"This is it?" I said, squinting at the map, then squinting harder at the reality in front of —like narrowing my eyes would magically spawn a chest, a tent, or at least a suspicious barrel of supplies.
I spread the map out wide. Then I turned it left.
Then right.
Then upside down.
Then I flipped it front to back, as if it were a reversible jacket hiding secrets.
Nothing changed.
I checked the landmark icon again.
Checked my surroundings again.
Checked the map again.
Still nothing.
I looked up.
A raft. One paddle. One fishing rod.
...That was it.
No food. No materials. No ergency rations. Not even a rock I could emotionally depend on.
"That’s... that’s all?" I whispered, my voice cracking slightly as betrayal set in. "No dried at? No toolbox? No mysterious glowing orb labeled ’Do Not Touch’?"
Silence.
The raft bobbed gently on the shore.
I stared at the fishing rod. "Am I supposed to negotiate with the sea?"
I checked around again just to be sure—kicked so sand, lifted a leaf, looked behind the raft like a clown expecting soone to be hiding there.
Nothing.
"...Wow," I said flatly. "Ten out of ten. Truly a luxury survival package."
Rage bubbled up. In a fit of pure, justified anger, I shredded the map into tiny pieces and hurled them dramatically toward the sea.
"Take it back!" I yelled.
The wind imdiately betrayed .
The shredded map fluttered around in the air, did a little loop, and smacked square in the face.
"...Even the weather is against ."
[You should escape now]
I peeled a piece of soggy map off my cheek. "And why is that?" I asked, already exhausted.
The ground answered for it.
The island shuddered.
At first it was subtle—a low, ominous rumble, like the island clearing its throat before yelling at .
Then the volcano in the distance began to growl.
Rocks trembled. Birds scread and fled. Lava light flickered ominously like the world’s worst mood ring.
[Because of that.]
I stared at the volcano.Then back at the raft.Then at the fishing rod.
"But I still haven’t gathered food!" I protested. "I don’t even know if I like fish in this world! What if they bite back?!"
The volcano rumbled louder.
Ash puffed into the sky.
The ground cracked beneath my feet.
"...Okay, okay, point taken!"
With zero remaining dignity, I sprinted toward the raft, tripped on absolutely nothing, and threw myself onto it like it was my long-lost lover.
I grabbed the paddle and shoved off just as the shore behind began to collapse. Rocks tumbled into the sea, trees slid downward, and the volcano finally erupted with a furious roar, lava spilling like it had waited specifically for to leave.
I paddled as fast as I could, arms burning, heart pounding.
"YOU COULDN’T WAIT FIVE MORE MINUTES?!" I shouted back at the island.
The island did not apologize.
As the distance grew, I slowed my paddling and finally allowed myself to breathe.
The island crumbled behind , sinking into smoke and fire.
I looked forward.
Endless ocean.
A single paddle. A fishing rod. No food.
I sighed and slumped against the raft.
"Where should I go now... next?" I muttered, squinting at the endless blue around . My paddle barely cut through the water before—thunk!
The raft bumped into sothing.
I froze. My heart jumped into my throat.
I leaned over the edge and peered down. Shadows shifted beneath the surface. Big shadows. ’Way too big to be fish.’
"Damn... I didn’t think this through," I muttered. Only then did I realize I was smack in the middle of a wide-open sea. There were no islands, no help, just and whatever swam below, probably judging my life choices.
The raft bumped into sothing again.
Thunk!
Thunk!
I shook my head violently, trying to clear my rising panic. "Nope. Ignore the shadows. Just... paddle forward. Pretend they’re friendly."
I resud paddling, muscles burning, stomach grumbling, all while keeping my eyes glued to the water. Thirty minutes later, my eyes finally caught a glimr on the horizon.
An island.
And on that island... a silhouette.
"Am I... seeing this correctly?" I whispered.
My eyes narrowed as I squinted. My vision expanded like so dramatic ani zoom sequence, and there it was. A person. Standing. On the beach. Waving frantically.
"...Who is that?" I muttered.
I didn’t know him personally, but the face was familiar. Probably one of those Advanced Heroes—bright smiles on variety shows, flashy costus, heroic poses, the type who talks about saving the world while barely lifting a log in training. Celebrity Hero, not actual Hero.
’Wait. If he’s here... are there other players?’
I watched as he spotted my raft and waved even harder, practically flailing. "H-Hey you! H-Help !"
I frowned. Should I? Help him? My raft could fit five more people, and having him onboard could an free labor—he could fish, gather coconuts, maybe even fetch a drink. Or... I could just ignore him and let him starve. Or better yet... steal all his food when he finally finds so. Choices, choices.
[Are you really a villain?]
"Who cares about that? Survival first, morality... later," I muttered under my breath.
I decided to interrogate him first. Useful? Worth bringing aboard? A threat?
As I paddled closer, I noticed: he had nothing. Not a single weapon, no food, not even the basic survival gear provided by the Vision. My eyes narrowed.
"He must have grabbed a green scroll," I muttered, shaking my head. "Absolute amateur."
He was useless.
Not only would he slow down, but he’d probably also try to complain when I told him what to do. And honestly... how did he even get into this level? Did he volunteer for the highest difficulty without a second thought? Didn’t the system warn him? Clearly not. Or... he ignored it. Either way, he was trouble.
"Nope. Not today, buddy. You’re on your own. And if you sohow survive, don’t expect to clap for you."
"HEY! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?! WHY DID YOU STOP?! DON’T YOU KNOW ?!" the man’s screams carried across the waves, high-pitched and panicked, like a banshee auditioning for a talent show.
I opened my mouth to yell back—maybe a sarcastic, "Good luck, buddy!"—when the water below the island darkened unnaturally. A shadow moved, massive and impossibly fast.
Before I could even react, it leapt out of the water in a terrifying arc. My jaw dropped.
The man didn’t even get a chance to finish his next sentence. One colossal mouth, filled with teeth sharp enough to shave mountains, opened and—gulp—he was gone. Swallowed whole in a single terrifying bite.
I blinked.
"...Whoa."
The sea churned violently where he had been. My raft bobbed helplessly in the wake of the chaos.
The system popped up in front of again, calm and annoyingly cheerful, like it had just watched the whole thing for fun.
[New monster spotted!]
"New monster?!" I muttered, gripping the edge of the raft so hard my knuckles turned white.
————————————
Monster Na: Nautilith
Level: ???
Description: Fish-type sea monster that preys on anything that strays too long in its territory. Likes to swallow its prey in one gulp, slowly dissolving it in its massive mouth, spitting out the bones once digestion is complete.
Weak spot: ???
————————————
"...Yeah. I do not need to see a full profile for this thing," I muttered, paddling like my life depended on it—which, spoiler alert, it did.
Every island has its own monster. Every island. And do I need to know their level? No. I’ve learned the hard way: it’s all Elite rank. All of it. Nothing in this world is going to be friendly.
I thought I was safe. I really, truly thought so.
Then the Nautilith surfaced again, creeping up behind like so aquatic nightmare with way too much patience. My paddle felt like a toothpick in comparison to the size of this thing. I rowed harder, splashing water everywhere, heart hamring, lungs burning—but it was like trying to stop a speeding train with a paper straw.
I yanked open my inventory in desperation. Weapons? Check. Jester’s Mask? Check. Tools? Check. Food? Nope. Nothing edible, nothing useful. Just , my wits, and my increasingly useless paddle.
"Shit..." I muttered, panic threading through my words.
Then my eyes landed on the last item in my inventory.
"...Oh, co on. Please let this work. Please please let this work." I muttered again, rocking the raft back and forth like chanting would magically solve everything.
It was... chunks of at. Leftover from when I carved out the Duneworm’s teeth to craft my daggers. Sohow, in a world that hates , this little pile of at was now my lifeline.
"Fish like worms... right? Just... behave, please," I whispered as I rolled the at into a compact ball, staring at it like it held the secrets of the universe. Then, with trembling hands, I tossed it into the water.
The Nautilith paused.
Then, slowly, its massive head turned. Its eyes—yes, it has eyes—locked onto the floating at.
"Yes! Yes, look at it! Look at the at! Follow it!" I whispered, fists clenched like I was coaching an Olympic athlete.
The beast slowed. Its massive body writhed through the water, focused entirely on the aty decoy I waved frantically.
With my heart in my throat, I rolled the at as far as I could. Farther! Farther! The Nautilith lunged after it like a toddler chasing a runaway balloon.
I didn’t wait to see if my plan worked any further. I paddled like the ocean was suddenly on fire, wind whipping my hair, sweat stinging my eyes.
Behind , I imagined the sound of a gigantic mouth chomping down on at instead of . Not a second too soon.
I didn’t look back. I didn’t dare. All that existed was forward, forward, forward, and the faint hope that sohow, this ridiculous gamble would actually keep alive.
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