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Friday, XX/XX/XXXX | maybe morning |

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He spent one hour experimenting with his inventory and found several interesting things about it. The inventory contained so many square-shaped spaces, which could only be filled with one type of item. He tried combining his maths book space with Pocira, but it wouldn't let him.

Based on the numbering format, he guessed that he could store up to maximum 99 for each item, but there could be no way to prove this as he didn't have much item to begin with. This assumption was interesting, nonetheless.

And he could summon the inventory anywhere he wanted and took out the item he needed without looking at the display. Tinkering with his inventory for a while, he made it appeared in his bag and he successfully took out a bottle of Pocira without looking at the window at all. This was useful to fool people just in case this inventory thing was deemed abnormal.

Could there be another secret perhaps? No, Ivan saved them for later. This was no time to conduct experiment. Now he needed to get out of here safely.

He inspected his inventory one last time before heading out, gripping his new mantle with determination.

Inventory

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Copper coin x30

silver coin x23

Mathematics book x1

World History book x1

English book x1

Book x5

Pocira x1

Ration x10

Waterskin x1

Lighter x3

Pencil case x1

Dagger x1

[???] Fruit x13

[???] Herb x7

Burlap sac x1

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Friday, XX/XX/XXXX | maybe morning |

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This forest seemed endless. He had been walking for a while and still could not see the end of it. Instead of finding traces of civilization, he found weird animals--two-horned wolves, ox with burning fur and oversized horns--among others.

He was fascinated at first. Their peculiar looks attracted him the most. However, everything soon turned 180 degrees. The animals in this forest were aggresive, even the herbivore oxen. He couldn't believe it when one of them rammed a two-horned wolf to death.

The sheer strength made him shiver in fear. Loss was his fascination and replaced with terror. A mere action reminded him of his place--he was a weak level 1 commoner with a useless > passive skill. That weird ox could rammed him to death if it so wanted.

That beast was on an entirely different level...

This could be the reason why he was so afraid of being here. His level was too low and everything in this jungle was bigger, stronger, and faster than him... he was akin to a pebble. One hit of this monster and he would probably die a horrible death.

Ivan slowly peeked behind a tree. The angry ox had left, leaving the fresh corpse of a two-horned wolf beside a tree. On closer inspection, it met its demise by a big crack on its head, on which Ivan could clearly see its grotesque insides.

And he vomited.

He thought he was mentally prepared for this, but he was wrong. This stimulation was too much for him. The smell and sight turned his stomach upside down.

He spent nearly thirty minutes to recover from the shock. Although he started to calm down and accept reality, his body still refused to do so. His hands were still trembling, even more so when he wielded his dagger.

Ivan steeled his nerve and cut off the head. When the head was no longer connected to the neck, he grabbed it by the horn and hurled it somewhere else. With the destroyed head out of the way, he finally let out a long sigh.

As he stared at the fresh corpse in front of him, he considered butchering it for later use. His rations maybe would last four days at most. In order to stay alive, he didn't have any choice but to familiarize himself with hunting and killing animals.

First he needed to skin the wolf before he could butcher it, right?

He tore the sleeves of his uniform and made a makeshift mask and began working on his skills.

He took a good look at the dead carcass before him.

As a consumer living in modern age, he had zero knowledge on how to skin and butcher animals. Why would he learn them when he could buy raw meat straight from the butcher or order food online?

He tried to project the cut lines, but got confused instead. He then shrugged. Any cut was fine as long as he could get the meat.

He began from the center of the chest and went south to the abdomen, and stopped altogether. He was stuck. Where else should he cut now?

Ah, screw it.

He recklessly cut the thighs (skin intact), opened the stomach and set the intestines aside, and skinned the animal. It was messy, sure, but he was somewhat satisfied with his first attempt.

He threw the intestines, chunks of meat, other organs, and scraps of meat in his inventory. With his terrible skinning skill, he destroyed the precious pelt to pieces. There was no way he could tan that scrap, even if he knew how to.

Without looking back, he quickly disappear from that place, afraid of ambush the longer he stayed there.

Next he needed to find water source, preferably a river or a waterfall if he was lucky enough, to wash his meat and body. He looked like a psychotic killer at large.