Chapter 4: Oversized Dreams

Ronnie moved carefully through the forest, his eyes scanning the ground for anything that looked valuable—or at least sellable. He treaded lightly, making sure not to step on anything that might scream, bite, or explode. The last thing he needed was another monster jumping out at him.

"Alright, let's see what this forest has to offer," he muttered, crouching down to examine a strange plant with petals as sharp as razors.

He carefully plucked one of the petals, wincing as it nicked his finger. "Ow! Okay, note to self: handle with care."

Holding the petal up to the Amazen Shop System, he waited as the system scanned it.

[ Item: Razor Petal. Value: $5. Sell? Y/N ]

"Five bucks? Not bad," Ronnie said, tapping "Yes." The petal disappeared in a flash of light, and his balance updated:

[ Current Balance: $20. ]

Encouraged, he continued his search. A little further on, he found a flower that emitted a faint, bluish glow. It was beautiful, but Ronnie wasn't about to get sentimental.

"Sorry, buddy," he said, uprooting the flower. "You're going to a better place. Probably."

The system scanned the flower:

[ Item: Glowflower. Value: $10. Sell? Y/N ]

"Ten bucks? Now we're talking," Ronnie said, selling it without hesitation.

Next, he noticed a patch of grass that seemed to… follow him. Every time he took a step, the grass leaned in his direction, as if drawn to him.

"What the hell?" Ronnie said, crouching down to inspect it. "Are you… stalking me?"

The grass didn't respond, but Ronnie wasn't taking any chances. He carefully uprooted a handful and held it up to the system.

[ Item: Sentient Grass. Value: $8. Sell? Y/N ]

"Sentient grass? Of course it's sentient," Ronnie said, rolling his eyes. "Why wouldn't it be?"

He sold the grass, adding another 8 to his balance. Over the next hour, he continued to gather and sell various plants, amassing a total of 150.

"Not bad for a day's work," Ronnie said, leaning against a tree to catch his breath. "But I need something to protect myself. Can't keep running every time something with too many teeth shows up."

He opened the Amazen Shop System and navigated to the weapons section. Scrolling through the options, he considered his choices.

"A gun would be nice," he muttered, eyeing a sleek pistol. "But it'd make too much noise. Who knows what kind of monsters I'd attract?"

Instead, he settled on a heavy-duty carbon steel machete. The description read:

[ Item: Heavy-Duty Carbon Steel Machete. Price: $40. ]

"Forty bucks? That's a steal," Ronnie said, tapping "Purchase."

The machete appeared in his hands, its blade gleaming in the dim forest light. He gave it a few experimental swings, the weight feeling solid and balanced.

"Alright," he said, grinning. "Now we're talking. Let's see those monsters try to mess with me now."

Ronnie continued his trek through the forest, machete in hand, eyes peeled for anything valuable. He'd been selling plants left and right, amassing a decent amount of cash, but the forest wasn't exactly a safe place for a leisurely stroll.

Every now and then, he'd hear the rustle of leaves or the snap of a twig, and he'd freeze, ready to bolt. The oversized animals were bad enough, but the real problem was the monkeys.

Not just any monkeys—these were normal sized but oversized in numbers, aggressive, and had a bright red stripe running down their heads like a mohawk. Ronnie had a history with monkeys. Back on Earth, during one of his survival challenges, he'd been hoarded by a pack of them. If it hadn't been for a local tribe saving him, he might've ended up as monkey food.

"Of course it's monkeys," Ronnie muttered, eyeing a group of them swinging through the trees. "Why wouldn't it be monkeys?"

He tried to sneak past them, but one of the monkeys spotted him and let out a screech. Within seconds, the entire pack was on him, their claws slashing and teeth bared.

"Oh, come on!" Ronnie shouted, swinging his machete. "I just got this thing!"

The monkeys were relentless, swarming him from all sides. Ronnie slashed and dodged, but he couldn't avoid every attack. Claws raked across his arms and legs, drawing blood, but the wounds healed almost instantly.

"Am I Deadpool now?" Ronnie said, staring at a cut that closed up before his eyes. "Because this is kinda awesome."

Emboldened by his rapid healing, Ronnie went on the offensive. He swung his machete with precision, taking down monkey after monkey. The forest floor was soon littered with their corpses, and the remaining monkeys began to retreat, screeching in alarm.

Ronnie wiped the sweat from his brow, breathing heavily. "Alright, that's what I'm talking about."

Curious, he held up one of the monkey corpses to the Amazen Shop System.

[ Item: Mohawk Monkey Corpse. Value: $50. Sell? Y/N ]

"Fifty bucks?!" Ronnie exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "Hell yeah!"

He quickly sold all the monkey corpses, his balance skyrocketing to $943.

"Not bad for a day's work," Ronnie said, grinning. "Maybe I should start a monkey extermination business."

But his celebration was short-lived. The retreating monkeys had regrouped, and their screeching grew louder and more frantic. Then, the ground began to shake.

Ronnie's grin faded as a massive figure emerged from the trees. It was a gorilla—an oversized, white-furred beast with the same red mohawk stripe as the monkeys. Its muscles rippled with every step, and its eyes burned with fury.

"Oh, shit," Ronnie whispered, taking a step back.

The gorilla roared, the sound shaking the trees and sending birds scattering into the sky. Ronnie didn't need to be told twice.

"I APOLOGIZE, CHIEF!" he shouted, turning on his heel and sprinting for his life.

He laughed as he ran, the absurdity of the situation hitting him. "No fucking way I'm surviving this!"

The gorilla thundered after him, its massive fists smashing into the ground with each step. Ronnie weaved through the trees, his heart pounding, but he couldn't help grinning. This was the kind of adrenaline rush he lived for.

Finally, he burst into a grassy clearing just outside the forest. The gorilla stopped at the edge, roaring in frustration as it pounded its fists into the ground. It seemed unwilling to leave the cover of the trees.

Ronnie collapsed onto the grass, gasping for breath but still laughing. "Alright, note to self: don't mess with the monkey mafia."

Ronnie walked through the grassy fields, the tall blades brushing against his legs as he took in the scenery. The air was fresh, the sky a brilliant blue, and the landscape stretched out like something straight out of a milk advertisement.

"Ahhh," Ronnie said, stretching his arms wide. "This is the life. No monsters, no monkeys, just me and nature. Well, and my machete. Can't forget the machete."

As he wandered further, he spotted a dirt path cutting through the grass. His heart leapt.

"Civilization!" he shouted, pumping his fist in the air. "A village or a town must be nearby. Finally, some people who aren't trying to eat me!"

But then he remembered the guardian's words: "My world is based on what you might call a feudal age."

Ronnie's shoulders slumped. "Right. No skyscrapers, no cars, no Netflix. Ugh, this is gonna suck."

He kicked a rock, sending it skittering down the path. "No burgers, no bikes, no—"

Wait.

A grin spread across his face. "No, I do have burgers. I've got the Amazen Shop System! Why don't I start my own McDonald's here? I'll be fucking rich!"

He paused, scratching his head. "But… I'm no good at business. I mean, I'm great at stunts and surviving, but running a restaurant? That's a whole different level of crazy."

Ronnie sighed, walking down the dirt path as he mulled it over. "Maybe I could start a business, but my thing is back there—running from danger, the pursuit, the adrenaline. That's what I'm good at."

Then, an idea hit him. His eyes lit up.

"Wait. MMA fights. What if I start a business on MMA fights? People love that stuff! Two guys—or girls, or whatever—beating the crap out of each other in a ring. It's entertainment gold!"

He started pacing, gesturing wildly as he thought aloud. "And here's the kicker: these kinds of businesses grow through advertisements. The more people watch, the more businesses will pay to sponsor the fighters. Exposure, baby! That's where the money is."

Ronnie's grin widened as the plan took shape in his mind. "I could build an arena, recruit fighters, and sell tickets. Hell, I could even stream it if I figure out how to make cameras work here. People would pay to see this!"

He stopped pacing, staring off into the distance as if he could already see the arena in his mind. "Yeah. Yeah, this could work. I'll be the Don King of this world. Or maybe the Dana White. Either way, I'll be rolling in cash."

But then reality set in. "Alright, first things first. I need to find people. And not just any people—people who are crazy enough to fight monsters and each other for money. And I need a place to build this arena. And sponsors. And… ugh, this is gonna be a lot of work."

Ronnie sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Why does every great idea have to come with a to-do list?"

Still, the idea stuck with him as he continued down the dirt path. The promise of adrenaline, danger, and maybe even a little fame was too tempting to ignore.