Jack5101b

In a world where every animal on Earth has mutated into terrifying beasts with elemental powers — fire, ice, wind, poison, and more — humanity lives in constant fear. These creatures, now known as Beasts, have reshaped the balance of power. Slowly, brave humans began rising against them. Those who managed to defeat and tame these beasts earned the title: Beast Tamers.

Becoming a Beast Tamer is every survivor’s dream — a symbol of strength, protection, and hope. But not everyone is chosen by fate.

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John is a young man who lives in the shadow of this beast-ridden world. Unlike others, he has never been able to tame even a single beast. He is seen as weak, unworthy — a failure in the eyes of society.

But one fateful day, John is caught in a strange accident that sends him back in time — to an era before the modern mutations… to a prehistoric world where even dinosaurs have mutated into monstrous, ancient beasts.

Trapped in the past with no allies, surrounded by gigantic primeval creatures with never-before-seen powers, John must now learn to survive. As he uncovers ancient secrets and gains the trust of these primal monsters, he discovers that his weakness might just be the key to a forgotten power — one that can change both past and future.

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John’s story is not just about survival. It’s about rising from weakness, mastering ancient powers, and becoming a legend in a world ruled by monsters.

Can a boy with no powers become the greatest Beast Tamer history has ever known?

THE DEMON TAMER

The spoon paused halfway to John's mouth, a small tremor running through his hand. The food, once warm and comforting, now felt like sawdust on his tongue. A sudden, sharp thought had sliced through his mind—swift and electric.

"I'm feeling very sleepy," he blurted out, too quickly.

He set the plate aside, the clang of metal on ceramic louder than it needed to be. His eyes met Luna's across the dining table. Calm. Watchful. She always saw more than she let on.

"I'm going to bed," he added, forcing a casual shrug. "Actually… a lot's happened since morning."

Luna's brow arched slightly, her lips tugging into a knowing smile. She didn't question him—she never did when it mattered. There was trust in her restraint, and maybe a little worry hidden behind her calm.

"Okay," she said softly, amusement dancing in her tone. "Go sleep. And don't forget, school starts at ten."

John nodded too fast, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. He stood, pushing back the chair as gently as he could, and made for his room. His steps were swift, quiet.

The moment the door closed behind him, he turned the lock. Click. A small sound, but it echoed like a thunderclap in the stillness.

He spun toward the digital clock on his desk.

His hands moved without thought—rehearsed, mechanical. He grabbed the emergency satchel from under the bed, already packed. Water. Dry food. Bandages. A thin blanket. The essentials. He had learned the hard way: never teleport unprepared. That one night, stumbling through the forest dehydrated and delirious, had burned the lesson into his bones.

He tightened the straps. Checked the water bottle's seal. Pulled the pack over his shoulders and faced the center of the room. His heart pounded—not with fear, but anticipation.

Only the soft red glow of the clock lit the room now, its numbers blinking.

A blinding burst of light exploded from his chest. It wasn't painful, but it consumed everything. Space, thought, time—all folded in on themselves. He could neither see nor feel, caught in the riptide between worlds.

The light vanished as suddenly as it came.

The air around him had changed. It was thicker here—wild . A strange humidity clung to his skin, and the earthy scent of moss and ancient wood filled his lungs.

The jungle stretched around him in every direction, dark and primeval. Tall grasses rustled in the breeze, and somewhere in the distance, the low, guttural growl of something unseen stirred the silence. Bird calls echoed from above—shrill, sharp, and alien.

John looked down, quickly patting his chest, his sides. Water bottle? Check. Food pouch? Still there.

Relief washed over him like a tide. He was prepared this time.

A familiar tree loomed nearby—colossal and twisted, its bark scarred with age. Its thick roots curled like the claws of some ancient creature, and within its base was a hollow, shadowed and deep.

He had found it on his third jump—a hidden space barely large enough to sit in, but sheltered and safe. A place where he could breathe without looking over his shoulder.

John approached it quietly, his steps light but sure. He ducked inside and sank down against the rough bark, pulling the satchel into his lap. For a long moment, he just sat still—listening to the forest's breath, feeling the rhythm of his own heart begin to slow.

Then he reached into the pouch and pulled out a small meal—simple, dry, but real. Real food. Real warmth. It reminded him of home.

He ate slowly, chewing in silence, his eyes never leaving the opening of the hollow. Out there, the jungle waited. Watching. Listening. But tonight, he was ready for it.

And for the first time in days, a small smile touched his lips.

This time, he wasn't just surviving.

CHAPTER 42: MIDNIGHT DEPARTURE