3 1 for the money, 2 is the Chapter

When my vision came to, the first thing that greeted my eyes was my mother's exposed breast. 'Is this the legendary breastfeeding?! Wait, crap, I forgot to ask her at what age I will be orphaned at. Gods dammit, I don't even know how I will be orphaned. Please don't let it be murder.' I prayed to the Goddess as much as I was able to.

Soon I saw my mother reach out to me and hold me under my tiny armpits, carrying me to her breast. I...well...opened my mouth with as little shame as possible and started sucking on her nipple. I may have gone a little too hard at it, because it sounded like she was trying to stifle moans while I drank the sweet milk coming from her breast.Crying silent, perverted tears of...joy? I thanked the goddess for this opportunity to enjoy one of life's greatest wonders. Ahem.

After the meal, or rather, after she ran out of milk, she pulled me away from her breast, much to my disappointment. When I looked at her face as innocently as I could manage, what I saw was a face that was surprisingly red, much to my amusement. If I had that fetish, I might've gotten my near non-existent dick hard, but on so many levels of existence would that be wrong.

Anyway, after that she released me to do whatever 1 year olds do. In my case, I'll be doing a lot of body acclimation before starting anything even remotely related to what counts as exercise for 1 year olds.

Wait, I just realised I could have asked her to just grant me the system earlier for this. Oh well.

For the next hour or so, I spent my time trying to waddle around on my short stumpy legs, occasionally trying to move my arms. Although that always ended up with me flapping them like a headless chicken more than anything else.

Like this, a week of sucking milk and flailing around went by. I never spoke a word, until I got fed up with the baby language my mom used and asked her to stop it. Boy, the look on her face when my first two words were "Stop it" and the next three being "it is annoying".

By the end of the week, she was still trying to teach me not to use those words, to her frustrated failures at my inability to not seem to want to do so. I also managed to gain control over my body and stop flailing about, so I should not at least be able to do some exercise, or rather, should I say it as it is, playing.

Another week, and I now have plenty of bruises on me. My legs seem to have suffered the worst of it, particularly me feet when I ran across a patch of broken glass. Mother panicked when I walked up to her and informed her about it with, "Mommy, look, got blood" as I pointed at my feet to make sure she knew what I was talking about. My hands come in close second, what with catching my falls on my palms and forearms on hard concrete and rough playground floor material.

At least they'll be quite calloused when I grow up.

After that week, a month flew by, then a year. My mom seemed to become a little more stressed and depressed everyday, with me noting the absence of a father. Must be a broken family.

Eventually, at age 5, my mother passed away, apparently from suicide. I can attest to it not being the case, because she looked like she wanted to protect me even when she left me in the house alone, running off to meet some would-be murderer of mine. No sane mother would commit suicide with a look of love and will to defend on her face.

Apparently this is where the orphaned stage comes in. Thanks for making it the 3rd worst option on the list of mother deaths, dear goddess. At least it wasn't rape death, or dismemberment and disfigurement.

And so off I went into the nearby mountains, filled with a sense of adventure to meet all ki- ah who am I kidding. You know the training arc is here.

After a couple weeks of tiring trekking into the mountains, eating what berries and wild vegetables I could to save on what preserved food I could that was carrying, I managed to reach a plateau valley somewhere 3-5 km up in elevation. Deciding this to be a good spot to train, seeing that the city isn't in sight, I set down what stuff I brought.

Though, it didn't account for much, being only a survival knife my mom used to keep sharpened in her drawer, a survival guidebook in case I couldn't recall what was edible, inedible, how to start a fire and whatnot, some basic cooking utensils as well as a pot, and about 3-4 weeks worth of preserved food for me to eat while I trained myself up to a point I could hunt animals. Being a scout when I was in secondary school sure was handy.

I set the stuff down in a cave, which had a clearing in front of its entrance wide enough for even my teen self to train in. After doing so, I set out to gather some foodstuffs from the berry bushes and wild vegetables I spotted on my way here.

Walking down the path I came from, I periodically marked trees along the way so as to not get lost when trying to return to the cave. That wouldn't be too fun if I was running away from something. Soon, I gathered enough stuff to eat for dinner, and proceeded back, following the marks. After preparing the pot, I realised i forgot to get water. I took out a canteen amongst the utensils and went off to search for a stream nearby.

Thankfully, there was one about a 5 minutes walk from the cave towards the east. At least I won't have to walk too far when I want a drink. After getting back and eating dinner, I went inside the cave to check how deep it is. There isn't a worry for bears around, considering that the country I'm in doesn't even have them around even in zoos.

After checking for a bit, I discovered the cave to be quite deep, around 15-25 metres deep, about 3-4 metres high, with its width varying from 2 metres at the opening to 6 metres at the very back of the cave. These stalagmites and stalactites sure are pretty though, it almost looks like they formed from liquid crystal. Guess I'll find out with whatever analysis function the system has when it comes out.

Beginning training the next morning, I went off to jog around the clearing on the balls of my feet to train balance and agility without my shirt and shorts on, so that I don't dirty them with the would-be accumulated sweat. Don't look at me like that. I'm lazy when it comes to washing clothes okay?

After jogging about 15 minutes, my legs felt incredibly sore, so I took a minute's break before moving on to do pushups, then sit-ups, then squats, lunges, and even chin ups when I found a short enough tree branch. Each consisted of 3 sets of 10, just so I don't push too hard too early on.

Next, I started practising combat arts. I would like to say martial arts, but most have too much flair with too little effects, while others are too focused on countering other martial arts geared towards killing. So, taking some basic moves, forms, then killing moves, and some stances, I created my own in the previous world for VR. Which also ended up being quite useful when I was drafted.

The combat art is called...well...I don't actually have a name for it. I guess calling it "9 Arts of Combat" wouldn't be too bad, considering it consists of 9 forms to be used. Footwork flexible enough for any situation without sacrificing too much speed, punches comparable to sledgehammer strikes, ways to divert attacks and use momentum against opponents, ways to strike weak points and how to spot them, kicks both too quick to react to while being just as, if not more, devastating than a roundhouse kick, ways to forcefully submit opponents, ways to assassinate opponents, ways on how to handle any and all weapons ever invented, and of course, ways to win in negotiations, be it political or business in nature, or just small-time tricks to gain small benefits from fools.

Deciding to do some archery training first, I first went to gather a couple vines flexible enough and durable enough to twist into a crude bowstring, then find a branch long enough as well as being flexible and malleable enough to not break under the tension. Next was arrows, with some poor wild chickens and geese suffering for it. After crafting the bow and arrows, I went off to find a wide enough tree with enough soft soil behind so as to not break any stray arrows flying past the tree.

'Breathe in, out...pull arrow...and release.'

-buffster mcwubster-