That night, a dry wind blew through the ruins of wooden shacks and tattered cloth that formed the slums of the bandits. From atop a hill, a small boy sat in silence, idly playing with a knife in his hand.
"I'm alone tonight... I like that. I don't have to pretend to be good."
My name is Shun, son of the Reaper bandit gang's leader. I'm nine years old, though my soul is eighteen.
"It's cold. If only I had a jacket..." I sighed. "Talking to myself again, huh?"
Suddenly, footsteps approached from behind.
"Shun, what are you doing here?" My father's deep voice rang out.
I glanced back at him briefly. "Just getting some fresh air. The camp stinks of rotten meat."
He scoffed. "Whatever. But tomorrow, don't even think about skipping your hunting training."
Without waiting for my response, he turned and walked away. I could only sigh. "...Yeah."
I hesitated for a moment. Instead of waiting for tomorrow's hunting practice, why not start now? What dangerous animals could even be around here?
Feeling a bit daring, I headed into the forest.
A rabbit darted through the underbrush, as if something was chasing it. That something was me.
I had been tracking animals for a while, and this rabbit was the first one I'd found. My initial plan was to sneak up on it from behind the bushes, but it noticed me and bolted.
I kept chasing. A few times, the rabbit glanced back as if checking if I was still following. Of course I was. I wouldn't stop until I caught it.
Besides, there was nothing fun to do in this world no friends, no phones, no laptops, nothing. I was so bored that even chasing a rabbit felt exciting.
Just as I was getting exhausted, the rabbit suddenly stopped and stared at me. I was about to lunge at it when
Rustle.
The bushes behind it shook.
A wild boar charged out, jaws wide, and swallowed the rabbit whole in a single bite.
Panic shot through me. My legs gave out, and I fell backward, unable to move for a moment.
Then, as soon as I regained my senses, I scrambled to my feet and ran.
There was no way I could fight that thing.
But seriously... a boar eating a rabbit?!
Two hours later, I arrived back at the camp.
As I walked through, my steps came to an abrupt stop.
A slave lay on the ground—his left leg missing. The dried blood had long since stopped flowing.
"Is he dead?" I muttered.
A bandit nearby turned to look, then laughed. "Of course! You think someone can survive without a leg?"
Then, his expression shifted. "Ah... sorry, boss's kid!"
I didn't care. Dead slaves were nothing unusual here.
Like everyone else, I simply walked past.
"The way I think is getting worse. If this keeps up, I'll lose my humanity."
The night passed peacefully, and morning arrived.
That day, I stood in line with the other children. My father's loud voice rang across the clearing, barking out what he probably thought was a motivational speech.
After all, he was sending a group of nine-year-olds into the wild to hunt for their own food.
"Go out there and bring back the food you'll eat yourselves! You are not allowed to return for three days. If you come back before then, you'll be put to work as a carrier!"
A carrier didn't sound so bad. But in reality, it was no better than being a slave—you had no rights and were treated like dirt by the other bandits.
"Now, go and prove you're not trash!"
I stared at the forest ahead. There was no turning back.
Three days in the wild... Would I survive?