Chapter 7.

 A Petty Criminal of the Village (2)

Experiencing theft is not easy for a person from the 21st century.

Not because we’re virtuous, but simply because we live under the constant gaze of cameras and naturally become cautious.

By the same logic, the only things I’d ever stolen were a bite of someone else’s instant noodles, a friend’s whiskey, and my own tears.

But here…

Stealing was necessary if I wanted to survive.

Why?

‘…Because the infrastructure is terrible.’

Retum Village was essentially a small rural settlement modeled after medieval Western Europe.

Tiny brick or wooden houses dotted narrow paths through the mountains.

It was also located far from the capital where David had once lived.

Which meant there were very few conveniences of civilization to enjoy.

If you needed medicine or vegetables, you gathered them from the nearby mountains.

If you wanted milk or eggs, you raised cows and chickens.

And if you wanted meat?

‘Hunters brought back animals.’

From what I’d observed, the village did engage in some outside trade, but it was largely self-sufficient.

Unless you found a proper role and interacted with the villagers, surviving here was difficult.

‘Of course… if you were capable, you could make a living here. Worst case, you could hunt or forage yourself.’

But I couldn’t interact with the villagers.

The moment I met one, there was a chance I’d be dragged directly into the game’s story.

‘And honestly…’

As much as I hated admitting it, modern people spoiled by civilization were weak.

Want fried chicken? Call a restaurant.

Need water? Use a purifier.

Need something repaired? Call customer service and schedule a visit.

That was the kind of blessed life I’d lived.

Unfortunately, I had no useful survival skills.

Wild animals scared me more than they inspired competitiveness.

I couldn’t properly identify edible plants.

And as a result…

‘I really do feel guilty about this…’

Whenever I secretly picked fruit from branches hanging over fences, I could practically hear my elementary-school ethics teacher’s voice.

When I snatched an egg while avoiding aggressive chickens, a conscience I never knew I had twisted itself into knots and screamed.

I tried to make up for it by chopping firewood or pulling weeds around the area, but guilt still poked at my chest.

Eventually, however, I hardened my resolve.

‘I’ll repay everyone later with a church raid…!’

Even a holy knight had to eat.

‘CEO, I hope you’re doing well. Thanks to the game you designed, I’ve become a thief.’

If you can somehow hear this voice, please patch in another way to obtain food ingredients.

Something like a minigame instead of fistfights with wild animals.

And while you’re at it, patch the life system too…

Honestly, damn it…

This is way too hard, sir…

‘Oh, and reduce the number of monsters. Give me an easy mode. Give David superpowers. Just… please save me.’

While making shameless requests to the game’s director—who was probably sitting in a climate-controlled office building somewhere, sipping an iced Americano and eating cheesecake—I stood in front of a mirror.

After putting on the darkest clothes David owned and grabbing a crowbar I’d found in the attic…

‘…I’ve seen this character before.’

I looked suspiciously similar to the protagonist of Thief Simulator.

For a moment, I thought a shabby garage, lockpicks, and a black-market computer would complete the look.

Unfortunately, that was asking too much.

With all my gear gathered, I stood in front of the door gripping the crowbar tightly.

And it wasn’t just because I felt uneasy about committing theft.

‘Because…’

CLANG!

Creak, crackle, creaaaak…

“David, I’ve come.”

The auditory hallucinations of Mirabilis poured from beyond the doorway and rattled my brain.

I pressed a hand tightly against one ear, but the sounds didn’t fade.

Time passed in rhythm with my rapidly pounding heartbeat.

The whispers felt so close it was as though something were breathing directly into my face.

I kept my mouth shut and held my breath.

After a while—

Crack.

Crack…

…

The sounds gradually subsided.

I let out a short sigh and glared at the innocent door.

Right.

This was exactly why I hated going outside.

‘Because it’s the time when hallucinations appear and monsters roam around.’

* * *

The late-night air was cold.

Even indoors.

Well, technically it wasn’t indoors.

I was inside a trash can, one of the hiding spots scattered throughout the village for players.

Clank, clank.

Ignoring the faint rattling sounds, I curled into myself.

My face buried in my knees grew cold, but I had no desire to raise my head.

Because right above me, near the trash can’s lid…

Sniff… sniff sniff

A damp breath drifted through the air.

And then:

“It’s…”

“There.”

“It’s there.”

“It’s thereit’sthereit’shere…”

“Where is it??? This is really weird!!”

A crude voice echoed nearby.

The tone sounded like someone forcing words through a ruined throat.

Its awkward attempts at mimicking human speech sent chills down my spine.

Alarm bells rang inside my head.

The scraping sound of dirt being dug up only made it worse.

‘…Why are you digging the ground?’

Don’t tell me it’s digging my grave…

Suddenly my eyes became suspiciously moist, and my desire to go home intensified.

But I endured.

‘This is exactly why I didn’t want to come out.’

Unfortunately, reality left me no choice.

The only way to gather food without meeting villagers was to move around at night.

And if I had to choose between:

Meeting villagers during the day and getting dragged into the story

or

Going out at night

I’d pick the latter without hesitation.

Granted, both options were awful.

But getting dragged into the story and wandering around at night came as a package deal.

If the story started, I’d end up roaming around at night anyway.

So obviously this was better!

After sniffing around the trash can for a while, the monster eventually muttered:

“Let’s go back let’s go back…”

“Since it’s here let’s go back…”

Then it left.

Click.

Ting…

Taptaptap!

I immediately jumped out of the trash can and sprinted toward a nearby house.

According to my memories, the beast-like monster that had just passed by had no eyes or ears.

But its nose was enormous.

Its sense of smell was incredible.

The proper way to evade it was to hide inside map objects like wardrobes or trash cans until it left.

And—

Standing near something with a strong smell also helped.

‘It hasn’t completely gone yet… but the night is short. I can’t afford to wait forever.’

This house!

Tap! Thud!

I vaulted over the gate and dashed inside.

Then—

“—!”

I clamped both hands over my mouth to stop a scream.

‘H-Hah…’

Leaning against the wall, I felt a metallic scent sting my nose.

I struggled to breathe quietly.

Massaging my overworked heart with one hand, I looked downward.

‘I expected something like this… but damn, that scared me.’

Taking shaky breaths, I glanced at the scene that had nearly given me a heart attack.

Two chipped axes were embedded in a severed chopping block.

Dark-red chunks hung from their blades.

But what drew my attention most was the red liquid soaking the ground…

And the scattered skins lying nearby.

I had seen those skins before.

Specifically—

‘…At a grilled-intestine restaurant. Though there hadn’t been blood there.’

I slowly raised my gaze.

Ding!

#001-3. Hunter’s House

Home of a family of hunters in the village. Your childhood friend Emily lives here.

‘…Right. Nothing to be scared of. This is a hunter’s house. Of course there’d be blood. Of course scraps like that would be lying around. They butcher animals here.’

Nothing strange about it.

No reason to be afraid.

Back in my world, there was a 24-hour butcher shop near my neighborhood.

This was basically the same thing.

I had simply visited a butcher shop late at night and accidentally wandered into an employees-only area.

Thinking that way should have calmed me down—

But no.

Holy hell, this is terrifying.

That was a 21st-century butcher shop.

This was a horror game.

They’re completely different!

Not just different regions or countries—

Different worlds!

‘What if the owner comes out and turns me into one of those…’

Even the genius teddy-bear chef, Mr. Poco, occasionally did things like that if someone kicked his precious pot.

The image of Emily from the game approaching me with one of those axes filled my mind.

My body trembled.

I wanted to go home.

Maybe coming out had been a mistake.

Why had I left my comfortable house?

I should’ve just boiled weeds from nearby and eaten those.

Why was I doing things beyond my station?

Regret filled my thoughts.

Then—

Sniff sniff sniff

Sniff sniff sniff

A horrifying sound instantly burned all of that away.

Grabbing my pounding chest, I carefully lowered myself and crawled beside the disgusting scraps.

I was trying to fool the monster’s nose.

The beast approached.

Its nose pushed forward.

Sniff…!

Its nostrils twitched.

The massive monster shoved its head over the wall.

Its black nose hovered directly above my back.

A damp breath escaped from nostrils the size of my palm.

Goosebumps raced from my feet to my head.

Curled up tightly, I relied on every scent around me:

The smell of dirt.

The smell of blood.

The metallic scent of the axes.

The scent of rainwater that hadn’t fully dried.

The lingering traces of living people.

Anything.

Everything.

Whatever would help me survive.

The result?

Sniff.

Sniff.

Sniff…

The creature abruptly turned around and left.

Success.

‘T-Thankfully… there aren’t that many roaming monsters in the village.’

If this had been the church, filled with countless wandering horrors, I never would’ve dared.

Not because it was impossible.

Because it was terrifying.

‘…Though I’m going in there eventually anyway!’

Wiping cold sweat from my chin, I climbed over the wall and continued onward.

Fortunately, no monsters were nearby.

Keeping low, I headed toward my first target of the night.

Following the path that stretched past Emily’s house, I soon arrived at a shabby, cluttered-looking residence.

I examined the building.

Beyond the half-open door stood a small wooden house filled with miscellaneous junk.

Nearby were firewood axes and piles of odds and ends.

The moment I stepped inside—

Ding!

#001-7. Sheriff’s House

Home of Peritas, former mercenary and current sheriff. One of the missing villagers once lived here.

I already knew that.

And it wasn’t what mattered.

Immediately, I turned my attention to the tree inside the yard.

Its branches looked sharp and strangely emaciated.

Between the few remaining leaves—

‘…There it is!’

A red fruit caught my eye.

I headed straight for it.

Completely unaware…

That someone was watching me through the window.

“…”

I wouldn’t realize it until much later.