I woke up gasping for air, inhaling deeply in desperation for oxygen.

  ‘I don't recall going to sleep.’

  I began to boot up as if I’d had another drunk blackout.

  ‘Nothing feels soiled. Minor scratches from the grass blades, no weird aftertaste…’

  I tried to get up, but my body didn’t budge.

  ‘No…’

  My memory snapped back to my death—unable to move as I bled out.

  My skin turned tight and bumpy, my pulse quickened, and my bladder tightened its sphincter.

  ‘No, no fucking way I’m going to be crippled again.’

  I forced strength into my limbs, tried to move my head, to speak—to fucking blink—but I couldn’t do shit.

  ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck. Let it be sleep paralysis.’

  Shadows shifted among the trees—silhouettes with pointed ears and mocking smiles, laughing at me, whispering intangible words.

  ‘I fucking knew it. They were waiting for the right moment. Fucking elves.’

  “...”

  I tried to shout for Nelson, but my jaw was locked. I could only swim my eyes around—blurry silhouettes everywhere.

  They began tossing Manzangos at me, humiliating me even more.

  ‘None of you will leave this forest alive.’

  My anger made the headache worse, but I didn’t care. I was ready to shock myself out of this nightmare using Helena’s painful healing, until—

  “FRANK, WAKE THE FUCK UP!!”

  —Nelson shouted in my ear.

  “What the hell, man?”

  I woke up covered in sweat.

  “You wouldn’t wake up, and you were making weird noises.”

  I was still disoriented. I opened and closed my fist, trying to get comfortable in my own meatsuit.

  “I dreamt of elves and…” I didn’t voice out my true fear.

  “Were they stacked?”

  “Leaf munchers can’t get fat on those bones.”

  “Wouldn’t that make elven girls hot to you?” Nelson smirked.

  “Fucking gross. I’m not zoophilic.”

  I tried to get up, still hyperventilating. Nelson offered his hand, but I swatted it away.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Your pale face says otherwise.”

  “I will be fine. Anyway, how’s your hand?”

  I stood up and stretched.

  “Looks like shit, but the wound’s closed. No problem moving it.” Nelson showed off his hideous scar.

  “Looks like a tumor,” I sighed, seeing my botched healing.

  “Git gud faster! When you can regrow limbs, we’ll be filthy rich!” He punched his chest confidently.

  “This motherfucker…” I sighed, exhausted.

  “I’ll go jog for a while, do some recon, maybe find some bird nests. My stomach’s rumbling.”

  He did a few calf raises and stretched his arms. He was calm—too calm.

  “Are you okay?”

  “What?”

  “Seeing you genuinely calm and not merely coping bugs me to no end.”

  He put on a conflicted expression and sighed deeply as he dropped his shoulders.

  “Skill issue… literally.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  ‘Ah, it bugs him too.’

  How could it not? Pretending to be fine when you’re not is normal. Being fine when you know you shouldn’t be is not.

  “Later, heal slut.” He bolted in the direction opposite the lake.

  He went away, refusing to discuss it further.

  Meanwhile, I went to the lake. I made sure to take the magic latrine with me. After expelling the impurities from my body, I dove into the lake. With my back to the water and my face turned toward the sky, I drifted like random debris. I was pleasantly surprised when it quickly killed my headache.

  “Can I abuse this?”

  Maybe the noob water doubled as MP potions. I could speed up my learning and nip any future worries before they appeared.

  Before my desire to never get out won, I swam frog-style toward shore. I let my wet clothes dry on me, just like I did when going to the pool as a kid.

  ‘You’ll get a cold.’

  The memory of my mum lovingly nagging me surfaced, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  Once again, I started the fire. It took me considerably less effort—suspiciously so.

  “Why is this so easy now? I only did it once. I haven’t learned it properly yet.”

  I was already suspecting that fire-starting had turned into a skill, but without the UI, I couldn’t check.

  “Still, it feels unearned.”

  I’ll ask the talking book after filling my belly.

  I cut some meat from my questionable protein source, impaled the chunk, and set it over the fire to cook. It smelled surprisingly nice.

  While I was wolfing down the bloody piece of meat, I spotted Nelson—clothes dripping from the lake, hoarding a pile of Manzangos. He grabbed one and began to chew with a bitter look on his face.

  “Fuck, I need meat,” Nelson muttered between munches.

  “HA! I told you, bitch! I’ll cook some forbidden meat for you.”

  “No, fuck you.”

  “But you nee—”

  “Go hunt a bunny for me instead. I can’t do shit yet. Can’t swing a sword, can’t throw a punch, not even a kick! I tried to ram one, and my speed dropped mid-charge. This curse is more annoying than I thought.”

  “I can’t hunt either. Remember, I can’t deal damage at all. Come join me in survival first-pa—”

  “I said no! I’ll hold on until I can hunt bunnies.”

  “Say that again without staring at my meat.” I grinned smugly.

  “Just shut the fuck up and ask the book about the meat-induced ravenous hunger.”

  “Let me finish eating.”

  “Now!”

  Nelson tried tossing a Manzango. The debuff triggered, and the fruity projectile dropped the moment it left his hand.

  “I should kick you out of the party for being trash.”

  I laughed at his miserable state before grabbing the book—mister book. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the incoming mana drain.

  “Greetings, mister book. Why is healing so hard?”

  I began to feel the strain of mana usage, but I was mentally prepared.

  [Greetings, young man. It is your lack of proper knowledge and formal training.]

  “That’s not what I asked you,” Nelson protested.

  “My mana, my questions.”

  [Also, Luminaria is angry at your disrespect.]

  “I haven’t—”

  [Desecrating her precious gift was too much, young man.]

  “It wasn’t my idea!”

  [Yet you participated. You are just as guilty.]

  I stared daggers at Nelson. He seemed torn between mocking me for getting punished over his suggestion and worrying that I would suck as a healer for a long time.

  “Fine. How do I apologize?”

  [REDACTED]

  “NOW WHAT?!”

  I coughed from the lack of mana and my growing anger.

  [Apologies. Lord Lytos has forbidden me from helping you with that.]

  “WHY?!”

  [Lady Helena’s orders.]

  ‘Helenaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.’

  I could swear I heard her mocking giggles right now.

  “Fine. Let’s change topics. Why did my fire-starting suddenly—”

  [Empirical Veteran activated. Congratulations.]

  “Shit. My luck is gone.”

  I complained, recalling that the spontaneous skill level-up chance had been one percent.

  The strain was still acceptable, so I asked one final question:

  ‘Can you tell me why, when I prayed to Helena, my healing worked—but it fucking hurt me and Nelson?’

  [In your case, it is Helena’s deliberate burden. In the case of your target, the pain is proportional to the reduction of his vitality. Or, in terms you may understand: it soft-caps his hit points.]

  “Deliberate?”

  [Yes. You seem to be the kind who would abuse power if there were no consequences.]

  I turned to look at Nelson. He rubbed his hand, remembering the painful hemostatic chant.

  “No. Improve your regular healing. Let’s look for a Luminaria temple and sacrifice your butt virginity if needed. I ain’t getting zapped again.”

  He spoke calmly and firmly.

  ‘What about the need for meat?’

  [REDACTED]

  “HELENA’S ORDERS AGAIN?!”

  [Apologies. She banned anything cataloged as “spoon-feeding” about her.]

  “Damn it,” Nelson complained.

  “Well, at least I know it has to do with her.”

  The book remained silent, confirming it by omission.

  I inhaled deeply. Today’s mana drain felt like a satisfactory short jog rather than an uphill marathon.

  ‘That’s it for today, mister book.’

  [Understood. Have a nice day.]

  I turned to Nelson, scratching the back of my head.

  “Since the hunger is thanks to my—”

  “Wife.”

  “—Goddess! I’ll help capture a bunny.”

  Nelson stared me down.

  “Uh-huh.”

  I avoided his judging gaze.

  “My gut is telling me that this would escalate quickly, so…”

  He kept staring in silence.

  “Come on. You were saying you were hungry, weren’t you?”

  “That sloppy topic switch won’t work with me.”

  “Shut up. Let’s go.”

  I went ahead, searching for the bunnies.

  “Old as fuck, yet acting like a teen. Gross.” He chuckled and followed suit.