"It's him!"
Roger was shocked, but after last night's incident, he quickly cald down, then feigned a groggy look as he got dressed, got out of bed, and opened the door.
The door was half-open, and Roger, rubbing his eyes, had a tired expression on his face, but his eyes closely observed the man opposite him through the gaps between his fingers.
"The weather changed a bit last night; I reckon there might be a storm coming soon," the man across said slowly, as if probing for sothing.
"Last night?"
Roger muttered casually, yet his face showed no signs of a slip-up, "Don't worry, sir, I've fixed the cabin well, it shouldn't be a problem."
Roger blocked the doorway with his body as he responded.
The man nodded, seemingly not intent on delving deeper, "Just keep an eye out."
He tore off a piece of a frayed net from his shoulder, "You can't always eat dry rations; you might try your luck nearby to see if you can catch so fish."
Upon hearing this, Roger's heart leapt; he suddenly realized that although he had managed to bluff his way through the night before, the clear footprints he left on the beach after getting ashore could reveal everything if soone were to check...
"What's wrong?"
Despite his best efforts to hide it, Roger's expression did falter, and the man opposite noticed it.
"Oh, it's nothing, I just have never done anything like that..." said Roger, feigning distress.
The expression on the man's face shifted subtly, a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. From his perspective, the scrawny teenager across from him barely passed for a young adult.
Perhaps he was overthinking it.
"If there's anything you don't understand, you can ask , if I have ti..."
"I might be able to give you so guidance."
Leaving those words, the man, hesitating for a mont before departing, finally spoke, "No need to call sir anymore; you can call Kant."
Roger watched this man nad Kant leave, and while he now knew the man's na and their relationship seed to have ward,
he did not feel any relief. Instead, his heart felt heavy because what he witnessed last night completely shattered his previous worldview.
"This world really does have monsters."
"Perhaps it also holds extraordinary powers."
Without taking the ti to eat, he changed clothes and ran to the seaside as fast as he could.
But upon arriving at the shore, Roger found that last night's high tide had washed away any traces on the beach. As he approached the island, the markings were no longer very clear.
"Did he discover anything?"
Roger couldn't be certain.
"Just take it one step at a ti. The most important thing for now is to improve my own strength. Only once I have the ability to protect myself will there be ti to consider other things."
He was alard by the murderous intent that had suddenly erged within him the night before. No matter what, that man had saved him, yet when faced with potential danger, he had chosen to confront it head-on without hesitation.
Given Roger's past character, this was unbelievable, "Could the original owner of this body have been an extremist?"
He shook his head, dispelling the chaotic thoughts from his mind. Now that he was at the seaside, he tried to fish in the water.
The result goes without saying.
He caught nothing.
Having left the seaside, Roger resud his exploration of the entire island. His first collection of herbs had been completely used up, and if he wanted to continue his training, he would need to prepare another batch.
By late morning, a hungry Roger returned to his cabin, this ti not as lucky, with a very limited harvest.
After a quick lunch, he rested briefly and then tried to exercise on his own.
Pain and itching, the severe reactions of his body, made it difficult for him to calm his mind. He struggled so much with maintaining his breathing rhythm that even basic movents were badly deford.
After laboring for two exhausting hours, besides ntal fatigue and physical soreness, Roger felt he had made minimal progress.
However, he did not plan to give up entirely.
The improvent provided by the Concentration Potion was indeed substantial, but he did not want to neglect the accumulation and training in his normal state. Completing this training routine without the potion would be trendously beneficial for his willpower as well.
After a short break, Roger dragged his tired body back out to continue his search.
It was nearly dark by the ti he returned to the cabin. The island was small, and there weren't many areas for him to explore.
He had swept through the island almost entirely that day to barely gather enough materials for the potion.
Although there were certainly oversights, the scarcity of a plant called Ironwood Vine worried Roger.
This was a symbiotic plant that thrived by attaching itself to the root systems of more robust plants and would only affect its host once it had grown to a certain extent, at which point, its characteristics could be identified.
Having gathered the herbs required once more, Roger began the concoction process again, and with the experience from the first ti, the preparation was a bit quicker.
After acquiring the Concentration Potion, he did not take it imdiately. Night was approaching, and following the previous night's events, he was sowhat apprehensive. To avoid any mishaps, he decided to stay vigilant for another day.
If Kant didn't show up tonight, it would imply that Roger might have temporarily dispelled his suspicions.
Clasping the axe close to his chest, Roger half-squinted till dawn, with nothing happening but the intermittent sound of the waves.
In the following days, life fell into a monotonous routine, and during this, Roger took the Concentration Potion two more tis.
After two enhancents, his physical condition improved significantly. Despite still appearing skinny, his slim body concealed a formidable strength beneath the skin and within the myofascial tissues.
Even though he was still slightly inferior to a robust fellow like Kant, he was much stronger than an untrained ordinary person.
Harvesting herbs grew increasingly difficult, and during one of the opportunities to take the Concentration Potion, he also morized the Basic Combat Technique from the books.
When alone, he would secretly exercise. Aside from eating, resting, and searching for herbs, he dedicated all his remaining ti to his training.
After several attempts, Roger gained so insights: he could catch fish using his net. With the intake of protein, his previously lean body was slightly more filled out.
In this manner, a week passed without him realizing, amounting to a total of ten days since Roger had landed on the island.
Throughout this ti, Kant hadn't visited once. Roger naturally relished the peace and had no intention of seeking him out.
After dinner that day, Roger bolted the doors and windows and climbed into bed early. Outside, the sea breeze howled, and faint flashes of lightning could be seen in the thick clouds.
"Another storm is coming."
Crack! Bang!
The storm roared in with fierce winds and pelting rain.
Wrapped up in his blanket, Roger felt like a small boat adrift in the sea, reminiscent of his first day in this world.
But today's rain was heavier, and the wind was more furious!
Boom, boom, thunder rolled, and lightning flashed.
And then, as a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, Roger's eyes caught sothing outside the window.
The lightning illuminated the outside as if it were day, but in that brief mont, he saw a ferocious face appearing outside the cabin!
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