First Catch

The forest was damp again.

Ren's eyes opened to low fog clinging between the trees and a deep chill that sank into his bones. The fire had burned out sometime before dawn, and his breath left faint trails in the cold air. His shelter held, but not the warmth.

He sat up and rubbed his arms, trying to get the blood flowing. No system message had appeared yet. That meant the new ability was still loading—or perhaps his body was too cold for it to activate.

He stepped outside the shelter and stretched stiff muscles. His eyes turned automatically toward the traps.

This time, something had changed.

The first snare was untouched, and the second was still in place—but the third—

It had sprung.

Ren approached slowly, stick in hand, trying not to hope too early. As he stepped closer, he saw it clearly: a small animal, brown-furred, about the size of a rabbit, suspended by its hind leg, hanging upside down and thrashing weakly.

Alive.

He crouched, watching its movements. It was fast, but tired. Panicked, but not strong enough to break the vine. The trap had worked exactly as planned.

His stomach clenched. This wasn't just a plan anymore. It was real. He needed to kill it.

And cook it.

He tightened his grip on the stick. "I'm sorry," he muttered under his breath, then struck once, hard and fast.

The forest went silent again.

The weight of what he'd done settled slowly. It wasn't guilt—not exactly. But the act carried a finality to it. Before this, survival had been planning, building, preparing. Now, it was taking.

He'd crossed another line.

Back at camp, he laid the animal on a flat stone beside the firepit and gathered wood. Tinder, kindling, fuel—he worked quickly, with practiced hands. The friction method took less time now, and before long, flames crackled again.

He hesitated only briefly before beginning the next step—cleaning the carcass. The knowledge was there, thanks to the system. Basic steps. Nothing fancy. Just enough to get the job done.

It wasn't clean work. But it was necessary.

By mid-morning, the first strips of meat were roasting on skewers over the fire. The smell filled the clearing—rich, earthy, unfamiliar, but deeply satisfying. It made his stomach tighten even more.

When the meat finally browned and the surface crisped, Ren took the first bite.

It was chewy. Slightly gamey. But edible.

Warm food filled a void that nothing else had touched. And more than that—it felt like victory. A turning point. He could find food. He could hunt. He could cook.

The fear of starving faded just a little.

As he finished eating, the air shimmered slightly, and the now-familiar message appeared.

> [New Ability Acquired: Basic Field Butchering]

You now instinctively know how to clean, prepare, and preserve small animals. Includes proper disposal to reduce scent trails. No equipment required.

Ren stared at it, then smiled faintly.

"Finally," he muttered. "Something useful after the task."

With the meat cooked and his belly finally full, Ren took stock of what remained. Bones, hide, some scraps of fat and tissue—all of it now useful. The system hadn't taught him what to do with them yet, but something told him that time and experimentation would fill in the blanks.

He buried the remains far from his shelter, just as the system had hinted. If animals could smell blood or rot, predators wouldn't be far behind. He had no interest in seeing what hunted in these woods.

By midday, the fog had lifted, revealing a sunlit clearing. Birds returned to the canopy, chirping and rustling leaves. The forest felt alive again, but less threatening now.

He leaned against a tree and pulled up his status window—something he hadn't checked since the first night.

---

Status: Ren Hoshikage

Condition: Stable

Energy: Moderate

Abilities Unlocked:

• Basic Firestarting

• Improvised Shelter Construction

• Water Source Identification

• Basic Field Butchering

• Trap Crafting (in progress)

---

Nothing flashy. Nothing powerful. But it was progress.

And that was enough.

Still, something about the list unsettled him. No magic. No combat skills. No flashy isekai-style power-ups. If this world had magic, it hadn't made itself known to him yet. Not even a hint. All he had were the bare tools of survival.

"Maybe that's the point," he said quietly to himself.

He shut the status window and stood. There was no time to waste.

The meat wouldn't last forever. He needed preservation. Drying it over fire might work for a while, but without salt, it wouldn't last more than a day or two. That meant more hunting. More traps. And maybe—eventually—fishing.

Downhill from the clearing, the stream flowed steadily. Ren followed it, checking the banks. The water here was clean, fast-moving. Too fast for fish to settle.

But farther down—

He reached a bend where the current slowed slightly and widened. Pebbles lined the shallow edge, and fallen branches formed small pools. He knelt and watched.

Minutes passed. Then movement—just beneath the surface.

Fish.

Small ones. Thin, darting shapes.

He didn't cheer or smile, just studied them in silence. The possibilities were forming already. A weir. A crude net. Maybe sharpened sticks if he could time it right.

And maybe, if the system liked him tonight, he'd wake up with a blueprint.

Ren returned to camp as the sun slipped toward the horizon. The temperature dropped slightly, and he instinctively added more branches to the firepit. This time, he built the fire deliberately low and wide—ideal for drying strips of leftover meat.

It was quiet. Not peaceful, exactly, but calm. And in that silence, Ren began constructing his first real tool.

A drying rack.

Two forked sticks driven into the ground. A crossbeam lashed between them with vines. Smaller twigs lined up like ribs above the coals. Not elegant, but it worked. The heat rose evenly and the smoke wafted gently through the cuts of meat. It would take hours, maybe longer—but it was working.

This was more than survival now.

It was routine.

He glanced at his shelter—reinforced with fresh bark and leaf padding. The fire crackled. The traps reset. The stream mapped. Even without high magic or warrior strength, he was carving out control, one small win at a time.

That night, after checking the traps one more time, he lay beneath the lean-to. His body ached from walking and carrying branches, but the pain wasn't sharp. It was earned.

As his eyes began to close, he whispered aloud—not out of habit, but just to hear the sound of another voice.

"I want something useful tomorrow. Not flashy. Just something that'll help me fish."

The wind stirred gently through the trees. Nothing replied.

Sleep took him quickly.

---

> [System Update: You have survived five nights.]

[New Ability Acquired: Primitive Fishing Techniques]

You can now construct simple fish traps, spears, and hand nets using natural materials. Includes understanding of basic fish behavior in streams and shallow water.

---

Morning light broke through the shelter wall. Ren opened his eyes slowly, then froze.

The message was still there—faintly glowing.

He grinned, a rare thing these days. Not from relief, or joy, but from something steadier:

Momentum.