I was calm.

  "Motherfucker!"

  Very calm.

  "Son of a bitch!"

  Calmness filled my body and mind, like a slow-moving river on a beautiful sunny summer day. Yes. My thoughts drifted toward the person responsible for the current situation, whoever they might be, and I must admit, I let my imagination run wild. I wanted to meet this person. Of course, I didn’t mean anything drastic—just a peaceful, friendly conversation to clear up some minor misunderstandings.

  Why, then, did I imagine my guest lying strapped to a rough wooden table with thick leather belts as I slowly laid out inquisitorial tools, explaining their functions and uses in detail? Well, that was purely for better mutual understanding—and to make sure the poor soul wouldn’t hurt himself before we even started our discussion. After all, health is the most important thing!

  And why did I picture myself slowly heating the iron tools in a fire? Obviously, to ensure a proper level of comfort and warmth during our oh-so-fruitful exchange of words and to stimulate my guest’s intellectual capabilities. After all, it's the host's duty to create the right atmosphere, and I intended to be very thorough about that.

  Yes, I was a beacon of calm.

  I looked again at my body—or rather, the body of the young boy I now inhabited. At a glance, he was between nine and twelve years old before some unexpected guests ended his existence, along with that of the other poor souls around me.

  Why the age range? Well, because many factors affect a child's growth at that age. Illnesses for once, lack of nutrition and many other, but I must say this body didn’t seem malnourished.

  Sigh...

  Brilliant. I woke up in the body of a young kid, in the middle of a clearing littered with the corpses of my recent travel companions, deep in a forest in an unknown place. Just fucking brilliant. It was also becoming painfully clear that this wasn’t my world anymore. Sure, the clothing and condition of my companions should've been enough to erase all doubts, but as they say, hope dies last. And mine was flickering out.

  Slowly the realization was sinking in that I’d have to make do with the cards I’d been dealt. And let’s not kid ourselves—no one was coming to save me.

  Being a connoisseur of fantasy, fiction, or just a good book, I was of course familiar with similar situations like this. But there’s a big difference between reading about something and living it. Or in my case, living it in someone's borrowed body.

  And since we’re on the topic of isekai or reincarnation—because I assume something like that happened to me. I planned to use all the knowledge at my disposal to maximize my chances for survival in this strange new world.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  So, I started by trying to contact the soul of the boy who had previously inhabited this body. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe just some basic information or perhaps I didn’t want to be completely alone out here. Although, on second thought, a moody pre-teen constantly judging my decisions didn’t seem like the ideal travel companion.

  But that wasn’t the fate written for me. Despite my efforts and deep focus, no one answered. No goddess or guardian spirit showed up either. So, I was left with one remaining option. But before I could utter the words I was admittedly a bit afraid of, my stomach voiced its loud protest.

  A sharp pang of hunger snapped me back to reality.

  And I immediately scolded myself. What the hell am I doing? Standing around like some idiot, daydreaming about fantasy beings instead of searching the wagons and bodies for anything that could help me survive in this forest. Not to mention that the corpses were bound to attract scavengers, and given the likely magical nature of this world, an encounter with the local wildlife would probably end badly for me.

  So, driven by hunger and a healthy dose of paranoia, or is it really paranoia if they are out to get you? I began methodically and thoroughly searching the wagons and corpses, fully channeling my inner loot goblin. For the uninitiated, that means acquiring—I mean, taking temporary custody of—anything not nailed down to the ground in at least three different ways.

  After fulfilling the sacred duty of every adventurer, I reviewed my haul. It was rather modest, but I had only picked through what was left after the initial looting. I was now the proud owner of a leather backpack, into which I packed a small supply of food—mostly dried and, surprisingly, seasoned meat, and a second full canteen that had somehow survived intact. I also found a pouch with a few copper and silver coins. How that wasn’t taken already was beyond me. And of course two blankets—one for bedding and the other for warmth.

  Additionally, I found a hunting knife with a sheath and a leather belt. After adjusting and cutting it to proper size, I strapped it on and attached the knife.

  That’s where the good news ended. While examining the clothes of my former travel companions, I noticed something unsettling—my outfit was noticeably different from theirs, and unfortunately, not in a bad way. This meant I could be the son of a wealthy merchant or worse, a minor noble.

  The thought alone sent shivers down my spine.

  Being high-born draws attention, and attention was the last thing I needed. And considering that I was the only kid in the caravan to survive while all my guards perished? Yeah some would call it miraculous, others suspicious but no matter what people would ask questions. Questions I didn’t have answers for.

  So, for my peace of mind and frankly my own health I decided it was better to lay low.

  With my new belongings in tow, I approached the edge of the forest, mentally preparing for what lay ahead. There was a slim chance that this world, following classic fantasy logic, had some kind of system managing classes, skills, abilities, attributes, and of course, magic. Not that this thought brought me much comfort—because if I had such a system, then why wouldn’t everyone else had it too? Unless I was somehow special… but given the place and circumstances in which I woke up, I highly doubted that.

  So, I took a deep breath and decided not to delay the inevitable.

  I summoned the word Menu in my mind. Nothing happened. I tried Interface and Inventory. Still nothing. Feeling the metaphorical executioner’s axe hanging over my neck, I closed my eyes and, resigned to my fate, uttered a single word in my mind:

  Status.