Scattered rays of sunlight peeked through the dense canopy and fell atop the floor of the forest. The morning sun did little to ward off the dampness and darkness within the forest and only served as a visual reminder to the mark of the day.

At the very least, the sunlight served to illuminate the otherwise impossible to navigate paths within the forest. While light did come easy, Atlas couldn’t say the same about food.

“I hate this world. I hate the Shadow Monarch. I hate the monsters that tried to throw me into a pit of fire. I hate the air within this forest. I hate the…”

Trekking listlessly through the forest, Atlas’ mouth continued to unceasingly flap while muttering out an endless string of complaints.

“Stupid magic. Stupid transmigration. I was happy in my previous world. I was happy to die. Why did I have to be thrown into this place and left out to suffer…”

His steps had no sense of direction and his eyes did not contain the light of surety. He simply meandered aimlessly after being thrown out by the Shadow Monarch.

Well, not exactly thrown out. The wizened, ancient entity was kind enough to answer all of Atlas’ questions, provide him a water pouch to fill it with water, and even give him a map detailing the location of its inheritance underneath the hill serving as the Monster Den; in hopes that Atlas would share its location with another human, to whom the wizened voice would be able to pass down its inheritance before its passing. The map also highlighted the places to avoid, classifying them as danger zones.

Yet, nothing was ever enough for Atlas.

He was an insufferable, ungrateful person who would ask for a mile when given an inch and then proceed to ask for the world when given a mile.

Having quenched his thirst for water and knowledge, Atlas was struck by his next need…

Food.

It had been more than a day since his soul’s transfer into the body of the young, malnourished Atlas still-have-no-idea-about-his-last-name, and he had yet to eat.

Ravenous hunger was tearing apart at his stomach and was making young Atlas spiteful and filled with resentment.

“Useless Shadow Monarch! How could you possess waterskins, books, and maps, but not a single grain of food!?! Did you ever think about what your inheritor would eat after arriving at God-knows-where!?”

“What were you thinking when you set this stupid inheritance up, you thick-headed numbskull!!”

Atlas shrieked out and tore at his hair. Dropping to his knees, he threw the leather knapsack that the Shadow Monarch had graciously provided to the young boy to help him carry his items, and laid prone on the ground.

“I hate this. I hate every second of this. I just want to dieee!~”

Atlas buried his head into the damp ground and cried.

Looking at this scene, some might say that Atlas was being disrespectful, whiny, and/or spoiled. To these people, Atlas says…

‘Why don’t you try getting up your engineered-for-comfort bed, leave your air-conditioned room, get kidnapped out of the blue by a horde of flesh-eating monsters while being in a body of an impoverished twelve/thirteen-year-old, get abused, almost be sacrificed to a never-heard-before patron deity, survive thanks to bullsh*t reasons and luck, be demeaned by the consciousness of an already dead man, listen to an hours-long explanation on a topic that you were explicitly told to have no future in, be given a waterskin and a map, and then thrown into a random spot inside a forest bare feet with no idea on where you are or where you are going. Oh, also, try doing all of the above with an empty stomach.’

‘Tried it? No? Then stop judging my reactions.’

Honestly, Atlas was no soldier or athlete. He wasn’t a person that had lived in poverty or struggled for daily bread.

He was a man from the modern era who was used to the luxuries and comfort provided by the modern world. Additionally, he was quite rich too.

Asking a rich, modern man used to having a hardship-free life to trek through a forest filled with numerous unknowns and thorns, all with an empty stomach was honestly too much.

The reaction that Atlas was having was the honest reaction that most people from the civilized world would have, given the situation. If you say otherwise, then you’re either definitely a liar, or a person suffering from some sort of psychological issue.

As he wallowed in his tears and the muddy ground, Atlas' ears suddenly perked as he heard a sound.

‘Waterfalls? WATERFALLS!!’

His tired body instantly regained its motivation.

Jumping up to his feet, Atlas grabbed the knapsack which he had flung to the side and rushed in the direction that his ears were pointing at. His bare feet pricked and stumbled against the forest floor accumulating bruises and injuries. Alas, Atlas was far too excited at a possible oasis to mind such matters.

‘Waterfalls! Waterfalls mean rivers! River equals fish! Fish equals food!! I CAN FINALLY EAT!!’

One must never underestimate two things in life; a rabbit backed against the wall with no way out, and a man suffering from an empty stomach with nothing to lose.

Underestimate either of the two, and you WILL end up facing a loss.

Traversing the bramble-filled path filled with twists and turns and hindrances, Atlas arrived at the scene of the waterfall in record time.

It was glorious.

The waterfall, I mean. Not the record.

Stopping at the edge of the forest line, Atlas looked at the scene of surging waters with awe.

It almost seemed like a crack had formed in the heavens and water was surging from within. A curtain of thundering white covered a three-hundred-meter expanse and fell with vicious rage, the sound of which filled Atlas with dangerous awe and dread.

Words failed to accurately explain the feeling one would have upon catching sight of a waterfall. It was an experience that could only be described as…indescribable.

From the base of the waterfall that was at least half a kilometer away from Lucius, a mighty river stemmed. Unlike its thunderous progenitor, the river itself was quite mellow and quiet-flowing. Its body was crystal clear, allowing Atlas to peer at its depths.

’Not too deep. I can step into this river.’ Atlas inwardly estimated.

He then recalled his memory of the map provided by the Shadow Monarch and cross-referenced it with his current location.

Atlas was no stranger at reading maps and thus had no problems doing so. His previous complaints were simply spoken with spite.

‘There is no waterfall or river detailed in the map. There is, however, a massive lake some dozen kilometers the other way. I suppose this waterfall and river were formed as a result of that lake flooding.’

The hows and whys of this river’s formation were of no importance to Atlas. He was only here to eat.

‘FISH!!’

And sighted did he, the future resident of his stomach.

Throwing the leather knapsack by the riverside bank, Atlas rolled up his largely torn pants and stepped into the river.

’Oooh!~ Cold. Very cold!’

But the desperate seekings of a hungry man wouldn’t be thwarted by mere chillness. Even if said chillness was bone-deep.”

“Ow!~ Ow!~ Argh!~ Ow!~”

Breathing through his teeth and bearing the assault of coldness upon his legs, Atlas soon waded his way to the center of the river.

While the waterfall did spawn a massive river, the one that Atlas was nearest to was a small portion of the larger whole, also called a rivulet.

This rivulet was only a couple meters wide and knee-length deep. Nonetheless, it did contain enough fish to feed one man, and that was all that Atlas asked for.

Standing with his legs wide apart and his arms ready for action, Atlas waited for an unfortunate member of the aquatic to wander into his grasp.

Shaping his fingers akin to an eagle’s talon, Atlas waited…and waited... and waited…

He kept waiting…for fifteen minutes.

“DAMN IT!~ EVEN A MERE FISH DARES TO DISRESPECT ME NOW! Why don’t you obediently swim your way into my hands!?!”

Atlas yelled towards the sky, his eyes turning red from starvation.

He then looked towards the closest gathering of fish, a few feet away. He had been intently observing this very same group of fish and had been waiting for them to enter his range.

Unfortunately for him, they never once entered his range and were content with swimming around him, teasing him endlessly in the process.

Unable to hold back his rage any longer, Atlas finally descended into madness as he ‘saw’, hallucinated in reality, the school of fish taunt him with smug smiles on their faces.

Roaring out a warrior’s yell, Atlas leapt towards the group staking everything into this one action.

His body soared through the air and covered the distance while the fish remained motionless, shocked at his sudden actions.

‘Hehe! Come to papa!~’ he deliriously thought.

Halfway through his flight, however, Atlas felt his body suddenly drop in altitude. He was falling.

‘Wha-what!? How!?!’

He had forgotten to account for the numbing in his legs after standing in ice-cold water for fifteen minutes. His numbed legs, unfortunately, did not deliver him with enough power to complete the jump.

Splashing into the water mid-way through his jump, Atlas hit his head against a blunt rock. An immense sense of pain followed by intense dizziness assaulted his mind.

Darkness then claimed him.

Atlas lost his consciousness for the fourth time in the span of forty-eight hours. It seemed that the generic transmigration experience which many boys and girls dream of was simply unsuitable for him.