Tales of the Labyrinth

Translated by: il0vecats

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Chapter 3: Deep Forest

When camping out, falling into a deep sleep is risky, especially when bivouacking in a forest. Even in Korea, considered one of the safer regions of Earth, there are still wild animals in the mountains. While tigers and wolves are extinct, the government continuously releases Asiatic black bears. Wild boars, roe deer, and even feral dogs pose threats.

For instance, as a high schooler, Hwanin once encountered a feral dog while hiking in the hills behind his home. Although he managed to kill it with his club, the memory remained vivid.

Alone and bivouacking in the forest, Hwanin stayed on high alert, frequently roused from light sleep by the slightest sound, as he had learned from past experiences.

‘…….’

Feeling something peculiar crawling over his skin, Hwanin opened one eye slightly.

There, beyond the intertwined tree roots, he saw a pair of yellow eyes flit past.

A chill ran down his spine. Hwanin shut his eyes and held his breath.

He tuned his ears to the faintest sound, ready to catch the noise of a pin dropping.

Silence. Not even the chirp of a bird or the buzz of an insect.

Rustle… rustle…

The faint sound of wet leaves being trampled drifted through the stillness.

‘Too light for a monster’s footsteps. Probably a predator.’

Was it circling nearby? If it was a predator, it might have picked up on his scent—an alien smell to the forest.

Gripping the haft of his stone axe tightly, Hwanin cautiously opened one eye again. However, in the darkness of the forest floor devoid of moonlight, he could see nothing but pitch blackness.

Then, through a narrow gap between thick tree roots, he saw the yellow eyes again.

This time, the yellow eyes weren’t looking at him but elsewhere. Grateful, Hwanin closed his eyes hurriedly.

‘Eye level is around waist height.’

Reflecting on the pre-sunset landscape, Hwanin gauged that the height of the yellow eyes matched his waist level, lower than that of the green monsters he encountered during the day. Furthermore, the soft scuttling sound indicated quadrupedal movement.

It was definitely a predator.

‘About the size of a tiger, I’d guess.’

Fighting it head-on would be suicidal.

Rustle… rustle…

…heeeeaaar…

The sound of wind passing through a long, sinuous tube reached his ears. Was it the predator’s breathing or growling?

Hearing the predator’s breath so close made his heart race, guzzling oxygen.

The tree roots were thick and intricately tangled. They wouldn’t break; even a bear wouldn’t crush them at once.

Hwanin mentally practiced the motion of striking the predator’s forehead with his stone axe if it poked its head into his hideout, focusing every nerve on outside movements.

After a while, the rustling sound gradually receded with careful monitoring.

‘589… 599… 600.’

Barely breathing, Hwanin counted to 600 before the distant cry of birds and the chirping of insects filled the forest once more.

‘It didn’t find me.’

Perhaps hiding within the muddy tree roots and covering himself with his dirt-stained coat helped.

Taking a slow, deep breath, Hwanin noticed his hand tingling. Realizing he had gripped the stone axe’s shaft too tightly, he let go, and sweat dripped from his palm as his fingers tingled.

Though the immediate danger had passed, Hwanin didn’t let his guard down, wiping his sweaty palms on the leaves nearby.

As dawn began to cast a blueish light, he compensated for lost sleep with light dozing. With the forest bathed in light, Hwanin cautiously emerged from his tree root hideout.

Crack.

“Ugh.”

Discovering that human joints could stiffen this much, Hwanin stretched cautiously, his body feeling like a block of wood. It was foolish to sit crouching for over six hours.

Initially, his muscles screamed, making creaky noises, but as he continued stretching, his body warmed up, becoming more flexible.

Feeling his body’s condition improving, Hwanin chuckled slightly.

The emotions he had felt within a single day in this jungle were more intense than any he had felt in his entire 26 years.

Grrrrk.

As his body reactivated, it demanded fuel. Hearing his stomach growling, Hwanin began to search for traces left by last night’s predator.

“…Hmm.”

What he found was paw prints.

Discovering distinct feline paw prints in the damp soil, each pad nearly matched Hwanin’s foot size.

The paw prints were three to four times the size of a tiger’s footprint.

Cautiously following the tracks, Hwanin realized that the predator hadn’t been searching for him but was merely passing through. The paw prints continued over bare ground where leaves hadn’t obscured the trail.

It was both a relief and disturbing realization. Had the beast, likely an apex predator of its area, been consciously hunting him…

Automatically touching his lips, Hwanin found them cracked from dehydration. He felt a sharp pang of thirst and hunger, his vision slightly blurring.

Though manageable now, if left unchecked, severe hunger could hit him like a wave soon, leading to weak knees, cold sweats, and nausea—an extreme state of hunger.

A signal he was inching closer to death.

His gaze naturally drifted to the orange fruits reminiscent of the coronavirus in shape, scattered throughout the forest.

Rustle!

Then, a creature the size of a squirrel but reminiscent of both an elephant and a rabbit emerged from the bushes a moderate distance away.

On instinct, Hwanin gripped his stone axe and watched the small creature intently.

Overall, it looked like a rabbit but with delicate brown fur-covered ears resembling an elephant’s. Its elongated forelegs were well-developed for grasping, while the minute whiskers at the end of its blunt snout vibrated constantly, likely sensing air vibrations.

“…”

The rabbit-squirrel, apparently poor-sighted, didn’t notice Hwanin. It stood on its hind legs, sniffing the air and scanning its surroundings.

Shortly afterward, having deemed the area safe, it selected the ripest and largest orange fruit from the bush, tugging it free with a hop.

Rustle, tick—

With a light sound, the bush shook slightly, and the fruit ended up in the rabbit-squirrel’s grasp. Hugging the fruit with one arm, the rabbit-squirrel sped up the nearest tree.

In an instant, it ascended about ten meters to the closest branch. There, it deftly stripped the spiky outer shell of the orange fruit.

Plop.

Dropping the shucked shell, the creature began munching on the exposed pulp with palpable enjoyment.

Watching the scene, Hwanin turned his gaze to the fruit bush.

Had this been Earth, the fruit would have been ‘reasonably’ safe to eat. However, in this unfamiliar world, that fruit might be a deadly poison to him, even if it was food for the rabbit-squirrel.

Momentarily eyeing the ominously spiky fruit, Hwanin picked one eerily similar to the one chosen by the rabbit-squirrel.

The rabbit-squirrel had peeled it using its mouth…

“……”

Hwanin found the fruit’s texture soft like velvet. Grabbing a spike to peel it away, he found it surprisingly easy.

The inside resembled a lightly blanched tomato. Cutting it in half with his multi-tool, he noted few seeds the size of sesame in the flesh.

‘Smells like citrus juice.’

After a brief deliberation, Hwanin sliced a small piece of the pulp and placed it on his tongue. He waited a bit, rolling it around his mouth…

‘Seems okay.’

His tongue didn’t go numb nor did it tingle. As the flavor spread through his mouth, he found it pleasantly bland.

A slightly astringent taste, a hint of sourness, and a moderate sweetness.

Impressed by the wild fruit’s balanced sweetness, Hwanin swallowed the bit of pulp on his tongue.

‘268… 279… 299… 300…’

Hwanin remembered his father saying that symptoms from consuming poisonous fruit would manifest within five minutes. Keeping an eye on his watch, he waited. Five minutes passed without any stomach pain or other adverse effects.

To be safe, he removed all the seeds and popped the entire pulp into his mouth, savoring the burst of juice that spread a sweet flavor through his mouth. It was delicious – the slight astringency and sourness accentuated the sweetness perfectly.

Another five minutes passed without any signs of a stomachache or indigestion. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Hwanin took out his smartphone and photographed another fruit similar to the one picked by the rabbit-squirrel.

“Good thing I recently upgraded my phone.”

Having switched to a new phone with a large aftermarket battery, he had turned off all power-hungry features while trekking yesterday and set the brightness to zero. With the sound on silent and no vibrations, he estimated the battery would last six days with minimal usage.

Next, Hwanin secured large leaves resembling palm leaves and gathered more of the orange fruits, which he had dubbed “corona berries.”

If this forest was the native habitat of corona berries, he wouldn’t have to worry about food for a while.

Satiated by ten corona berries, Hwanin set off again, focusing on finding signs of human presence.

Although humans might not exist here, finding another intelligent life form was crucial for survival. There may be hostile tribes, but he would tackle that after finding them.

This time, Hwanin scrutinized the ground more carefully and inspected countless trees as he moved forward. Eventually, he noticed an odd-looking bush and stared intently at it.

“Not good.”

The unusual shape turned out to be trampled bushes caused by the footsteps of some predator. Placing his foot next to the newly discovered prints, he found them slightly smaller than the ones from last night.

Surveying his surroundings, the undulating terrain suggested he’d entered a hilly area with few flat areas visible. Corona berry bushes were scattered throughout.

The fortunate fact was that even after three hours of walking, corona berries were abundant, indicating a steady food supply. Unfortunately, it also raised the possibility of encountering multiple predators like the one from last night.

Hwanin’s suspicion was further confirmed as he noticed deep claw marks running vertically along a particularly large tree nearby.

“The beast can climb trees,” he muttered, tracing the marks left by what seemed like claws slipping while climbing.

“Maybe I should make a shield.”

Picturing a small raft rather than a shield, Hwanin quickly got to work.

First, he collected branches about the thickness of the club he had made earlier. Though planks would have been ideal for a shield, his multitool was limited to small, precise tasks.

Using his stone axe to chop wood into planks wasn’t an option as it would consume his primary weapon. After gathering sufficient branches, he tore vines from the corona berry bushes to use as makeshift ropes and trimmed the jagged branches to uniform lengths with the stone axe.

Thud!

One slip while trimming caused the axe to strike a rock, but instead of chipping, the stone axe gouged out a chunk of the rock.

“What’s this thing made of?” Hwanin marveled, resuming his task with renewed confidence in the durability of his stone axe.

With sturdy branches lined up vertically and the ample supply of vines tied together, Hwanin crafted a square shield in about two hours.

The result matched his initial design and expectations. The sturdy, straight branches made the shield dense enough to block arrows. He also wedged some sharp branches into the gaps, ensuring any green monster struck by it would end up bloodied.

He hadn’t envisioned this crude wooden shield to block powerful predator attacks. Its primary function was deterrence and creating openings when the predator bites.

Not dying without a fight embodied Hwanin’s resolve.

Strapping the improvised shield to his arm and testing its maneuverability, Hwanin found it adequately sized to cover his torso without hindering his movements.

‘Should have studied some shield techniques,’ Hwanin thought, recalling seeing the martial arts manual of Paulus Hector Mair, a medieval German civil servant who allegedly embezzled funds to create it. Aside from that, he had no knowledge of shield fighting.

Despite his ignorance, he assumed a posture from medieval dueling games. This stance covered his torso and upper thighs while leaving his eyes and lower legs exposed.

Swinging the stone axe while holding the shield proved challenging. His arm caught on the shield when attempting downward strikes.

‘I need to tilt the shield slightly when attacking.’

Hwanin realized he’d have to prioritize downward slashes and wield the stone axe with one hand. The axe’s poor weight distribution placed a burden on his wrist, and its short reach concerned him.

As he practiced, the small shield’s limited durability became apparent, causing Hwanin to fashion another club.

This time, he selected a 1.5-meter-long wooden stick. It had grown for decades before breaking for some reason and was as thick as an adult thigh. He shaped a handle with the stone axe and wrapped it with smooth vine bark stripped flawlessly using the multitool.

“This should prevent slipping,” he muttered, swinging the club several times.

Although his regular gym visits ensured he could handle the club one-handed, the club’s weight made two-handed usage more practical, akin to the stone axe.

With the wooden shield on his left arm, the stone axe in his right hand, and the two-handed club strapped to his back, Hwanin felt somewhat equipped.

“Hmm.”

Suiting up with crude weapons and a shield led him to consider making arm and leg guards.

Briefly entertaining the idea, Hwanin shook his head. Lacking the skills and time to craft such armor, and with the environment far from safe, he needed to prioritize avoidance and survival over combat.

Focused on staying alive, Hwanin resumed walking.