**Translation (US English):**
Ryan sat on a flat boulder for what felt like hours, his face pale and twisted with unease. Every few minutes, his expression shifted—disbelief, fear, bewilderment, and a flicker of desperate hope battling for dominance.
{{ "What the hell do I do now…?" }}
He'd waited, half-expecting someone—*anyone*—to stumble out of the woods and save him. The chirps of birds and rustle of leaves had briefly soothed him, but the distant howls and growls lurking beneath the forest's melody kept his nerves frayed.
Waiting got him nowhere. The sun dipped lower, its golden light bleeding into an oppressive twilight. Back in the city, night meant quiet. Safety. Here? Darkness was a dinner bell for things with teeth.
Ryan finally cracked.
He stood, scanning the trees again. Every direction looked identical—no trails, no markers, just endless green and shadows. With a grunt, he picked a random path and trudged forward, counting seconds under his breath to drown out the panic.
{{ "Why'd I read all those damn novels?!" }} he muttered, voice shaky. {{ "Like some shut-in otaku's gonna get isekai'd and survive this crap? You think *you're* the hero here?!" }}
His laugh bordered on hysterical. {{ "Signed my own death warrant…" }}
He clasped his hands in a half-hearted prayer—*please, just don't let anything eat me*—though he doubted any god listened here.
Hours blurred. The sun hung low when hunger clawed at his gut, loud enough to echo through the silence.
**Grrooowl**
{{ "Useless," }} he hissed, but kept walking. Movement was better than sitting. Maybe.
Then—a sound.
The rush of water.
His heart leapt. Where there was water, there was food. Or at least a way to stay alive a little longer. A shaky smile tugged at his lips as he followed the noise, mind blank to everything but survival. *Forget the forest, the apocalypse, the monsters—what's the point if I starve first?*
Logic had left him hours ago. A person doesn't die from skipping a few meals, but his scrambled brain didn't care. Delusion kept him moving.
The roar grew louder.
And there it was—a shallow river, crystal-clear and gentle, its bed dotted with smooth stones. Reeds taller than him lined the banks like a natural fence.
Ryan didn't hesitate. He dropped to his knees, cupping his hands into the water. It looked clean. *Had* to be clean. What choice did he have?
The cold bit his skin, sharp and refreshing.
{{ "Damn… that's good," }} he breathed, bringing his hands to his lips—
**Grrrrrrr**
A low, guttural snarl rippled from across the river.
[Level K Entity Detected!]