I felt guilt, yes—but it wasn’t stupidity. Ever since I’d begun to understand life, there had always been a clear line between feeling guilty and being reckless, and I had no intention of crossing it.
From the clothing people wore, the way they ran their errands, the structure of the buildings, and even the furniture inside them, I could already tell this world was nothing like Earth. Not even close.
The thought of living without smartphones, television, electricity—without even a radio—almost made want to cry. I could already imagine how difficult this kind of life would be for .
The house we had just stepped out of looked like sothing straight out of the Middle Ages, though slightly improved. It was mostly built from gray bricks and stone, surrounded by bushes, with a wooden rooftop that creaked faintly in the wind.
At the mont, I was being carried in Elina’s arms—my new mother. As she walked along the front of the house, she occasionally spoke softly to .
Little did she know, I wasn’t paying attention at all.
Though her voice sounded like words to , my focus was entirely elsewhere—on the status screen floating silently in midair before my eyes.
It was strange, seeing a status screen follow around like that, but my curiosity far outweighed any discomfort. Compared to it, everything else felt insignificant.
Back on Earth, my life had been painfully boring. I had no friends—not even during my university days—because friendships often led to trouble. I had always been alone.
In my previous world, the only people I truly cared about were my mother and my sister.
Aside from them, there was only work—endless days and nights of it.
As I stared at the status screen, I noticed small changes. My age, my experience points, even my level had shifted slightly. It felt as though the system was constantly recording my daily activities, resetting and updating with ti.
That realization made uneasy.
If it was tracking everything so closely, then what kind of "surprise" would the transmigration starter pack bring next?
After a few monts, I tore my gaze away from the black screen and looked in the direction Elina was walking.
As she moved around the house, she continued whispering softly to .
I didn’t pay much attention, but bits and pieces of what she said gave a rough idea of the village’s layout.
Our farmhouse was located so distance away from the village’s central area.
She didn’t explain much about the inner circle—only that it was far more dangerous than where we lived and that I should stay away from it in the future.
The outer circle, on the other hand, consisted mostly of wild, uncultivated land—almost like a forest. She ntioned it in fragnts, quietly describing what could be found there.
We were still outside the house when she suddenly stopped walking.
I felt her arms tense slightly as her gaze shifted downward toward .
What’s going on?
After enduring stress for days with no end, all she wanted was a mont of peace. But sothing about my behavior must have felt wrong to her.
Monts earlier, I had been lost in thought. Then, without warning, a wave of nausea hit .
At first, it was subtle—but then it spread, turning into a sharp, overwhelming pain I had never felt before. It surged through my body, snapping out of my thoughts completely.
What’s happening to ? I wondered, dazed and confused.
I realized I was struggling to breathe, my chest tightening as I began gasping for air.
Elina noticed imdiately. Fear and panic flashed across her face.
The pain intensified. I could feel my body growing weaker, colder, as if strength was draining from by the second.
For , the fear ca from losing control—my body wasn’t responding, and I had no idea what was happening.
Whatever this was, it felt dangerous.
For Elina, it was sothing far worse.
To her, it ant her baby’s life might be in danger.
Without understanding the cause, she reacted instinctively. She turned and ran back toward the house, holding tightly as her voice rang out in desperate screams the mont she burst inside.
Soon after, my body convulsed, and I vomited a dark, thick substance.
The sight alone made the entire family freeze, as if their world were collapsing before their eyes.
With every mont that passed, Elina’s regret deepened. Fear twisted her heart as she wondered if she was sohow responsible.
Each ti my body forced sothing out, it felt like my throat was being torn apart from the inside. The effort left weak and trembling.
The girls were already crying. John and Elina stood frozen, their thoughts scattered, unable to think clearly.
The only person with any dical knowledge was the midwife—but she lived far away. Even with a mule cart, it would take too long. And by then... no one knew what state I might be in.
That helplessness crushed them.
At that mont, all they could do was pray—for a miracle.
The more Elina thought about it, the more powerless she felt. She didn’t know what to do anymore. She wanted to help , to give sothing soothing, but fear held her back.
What if doing sothing—anything—only made it worse?
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