Nick was born in a remote village in the northeastern mountainous area of Su Bin Province.
His family conditions were at least decent by village standards; his father was a carpenter, taking on jobs here and there, providing for their large family.
This allowed Nick to avoid spending his childhood doing endless farm work like the other kids in the village.
On sweltering sumr afternoons, he often went to the back of the mountain to escape the heat. The shade provided by the dense woods made it much cooler than outside, and villagers often ca here to chop wood and collect firewood, ensuring safety.
Many tis, he would lean against a tree trunk, lying in the cool shade, listening to the rustling leaves above, and drift off to sleep for the entire afternoon.
Of course, the energy of young boys is like the stray dogs running around the village, seemingly endless. Within a few years, he had explored almost every corner of the mountain behind the village.
Near the top of the mountain was a small pond, reflecting the canopy, erald and clear.
It’s unknown where they ca from, but a few small fish inhabited the pond. They weren’t very large, about the length of a palm, but they stood out due to the exceptionally clear water.
Like the naive boys living deep in the mountains, as pure as white paper, these fish that grew up in the secluded pond had not been exposed to the outside world and were defenseless against even the slightest temptation.
Even when Nick used a crude fishing rod he made from "fallen branches," "discarded twine," and "thorns and burrs," using worms he dug up as bait, these fish showed no awareness and bit again and again.
Honestly, these small fish weren’t tasty, their flesh filled with tiny bone spurs. After eating them a couple of tis, Nick stopped bringing the caught fish ho and began releasing them back into the pond.
Perhaps this is why he could stand out among countless low-level adventurers in the future, successfully achieving a professional level, and beco a senior.
——Unlike other kids, Nick didn’t lose interest in fishing just because of the ease with which he caught fish.
His attention shifted to sothing deeper.
He began to observe the fish’s movents when they bit the hook carefully.
Attracted by the subtle vibrations of struggling worms in the water, their tail fins flickered slightly as they quietly approached, cautiously testing with their upper lips to confirm the "harmless food" nature.
They withdrew, leaving enough space for a sprint.
And then...
"Swish!"
To this day, Nick still rembers the palm-sized fish’s hunting behavior when it lunged to bite.
The fish’s cheeks, jaws, and throat muscles contracted in coordination at an incredible speed, like a compressed spring, then expanded suddenly as the fish lunged forward, forming an expanding cavity.
The worm, along with the fishhook, was sucked into the mouth sharply, the jaws snapping shut quickly, the gill covers opening and closing, filtering the water from the mouth.
Nick found this process very interesting and didn’t feel anything else about it.
After all, he was the one holding the rod.
Continuing or leaving, the choice was in his own hands.
Even if his younger self jumped into the pond, those small fish couldn’t pose any danger to him...
Until now.
When a violent gust of wind lashed his face sharply, the glaring crimson reflected in his pupils.
When the Hunter truly beca the prey, and the angler wielding the rod beca the bait on the hook.
A deep sense of danger surged from within, with the sound of death echoing cruelly in his mind.
Only then did Nick co to understand the rules of this world.
The proud Half Elf with delicate features stood across from him.
With a tall and slender body from her Elf blood, years of adventuring added undulating curves beneath her tight clothing, exuding the beauty of strength.
She mimicked the ancient traditions of Elves by carefully crafting her slender arched brows now frowning together, her delicate petite nose slightly flaring with agitated breathing, thin lips parted slightly, revealing glimpses of saliva between her white teeth, and her persistent, crisp voice continued to echo from her lips.
Yet in this seemingly frozen mont, contrasting sharply was the gray-blue trail in midair, accompanied by countless splashing droplets.
It was a gaping maw, fearso and deford, causing chills to run down one’s spine.
Five rows of serrated, chilling sharp teeth appeared like a radiant white bone flower blossoming, a stench emanating with the stormy breath from its throat, with deep red throat flesh seen writhing inside.
"Sss... Crack!"
It was a dense, muffled sound composed of various noises mixed together.
The screech of tal twisting under brute force, the collective crack of fracturing bones, organs, and tissues under violent pressure, the squelch of so juicy object bursting suddenly.
The gaping maw’s jaws clamped around the Half Elf’s waist with precision.
She didn’t scream, and her exquisite face didn’t show any trace of pain.
Everything happened too fast, as if even the pain was isolated.
Laida’s upper body still maintained the stance from a mont earlier amidst the combat struggle, her right hand even clutching a Wooden Arrow she had just pulled from a corpse.
Yet from the waist down, those long legs clad in Deer Skin Boots, the color-coordinated knee pads, the skirt armor embossed with traditional Elf Clan patterns, had vanished.
Leaving only jagged stumps as if brutally gnawed away by a beast.
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