The Beginning Of The Hunt

The cold climate fell over the wooded landscape, gray clouds hovered over the trees as snowflakes fell from the sky. A grayish filter seemed to standardize all colors in a variation of gray and black.

In the middle of a clearing, a small deer with long horns roamed the plain in search of food. The majestic figure of the animal trotted quietly among the pines and dry branches of the forest, the animal cervidae briefly smelled the air before snorting and continued its walk to a dry branch of shrubs.

In the distance, among the bushes beside a tree trunk, a tall man and a six-year-old boy were hiding in a crouched posture.

"Very well son, can you see him clearly in your sights?" The man's hoarse and slightly tired voice resonated in a low, almost whispering tone.

"Yes." The six-year-old boy replied in a trembling and reluctant voice, showing his hesitation and reluctance.

With trembling hands, the slightly dark-skinned boy held an old-fashioned model of a hunting rifle. The spyglass, as well as the barrel of the gun, aimed precisely at where the lobe of the animal's left ear would be, which, apart from its condition of prey, continued to feed on the bush. This only served to fuel the feeling of strangeness and guilt, which grew in the heart of the boy in a heavy coat.

"Very well." He commented the man with dark hair and fair skin while slightly correcting his son's posture with the gun.

"Now son, pay close attention. Keep your target in the center of the bezel at all times, be sure to press the trigger slowly, do not pull, this can change the trajectory of the shot. Also, try to shoot at the exact moment it expires naturally, and only inhales again when the bullet leaves the barrel of the gun. Understood?" The calm and peaceful voice of the man with the unshaven resonated in the ears of the boy in a dark cap with gray details, not trusting his own voice to answer, the boy with dark hair and a slightly rounded face just nodded, before breathing and sighing deeply a couple of times.

Slightly concerned about his son's abnormal condition, the man in the gray coat just looked strangely at the boy beside him before resting a hand gently on the boy's shoulder. The six-year-old boy was slightly startled before relaxing under the firm but gentle grip of his father's hand.

"Mark, relax. Or else you will end up missing the shot." He assured the older man in a gentle tone of voice with the hope of calming his son's nervous spirits, however, this only served to make Mark even more tense.

Mark licked his slightly dry lips before he swallowed some saliva. Supporting the barrel of the gun on the tree trunk for better stability, the boy with slightly gray eyes peered his target through his telescopic sight.

The majestic quadruped animal, for the first time since it started to feed, seemed to realize its current situation. Stretching your neck as you raised your head, the deer of imposing galls looked briefly in all directions, before their eyes fixed on a specific point. Interestingly, it was in the same direction that Mark and his father met.

For a brief moment, Mark looked at the animal's dark and half-gray eyes. This proved to be the worst of ideas, when the six-year-old boy felt his doubts about what he was doing to be sure to increase further. The deer's eyes shone in the dim luminosity of the place, showing an intelligent and innocent glow behind his eyes, and for the fifteenth time, Mark wondered why he was doing this.

Did he really want to kill a poor helpless animal that he wouldn't even follow would eat? Do not. Did he want to come for this hunt in the cold, when he could be in the comfort of a hut eating the delicious cookies while drinking a cup of hot chocolate made by his mother? Certainly not. So why, because he had to kill an animal that didn't even offer him the slightest threat.

The answer came to his mind at the exact moment when his father scolded him in a stern and slightly boring voice, causing Mark to tremble slightly.

"Come on, son, or else he will escape." He commented the man with a face set in a tone of rebuke while looking at the animal more than 500 meters through a pair of camouflaged binoculars. With his experience, he knew that the animal somehow, probably through smell, had detected strange presences around it, and would most likely flee into the forest.

However, his rebuke seemed to fall on deaf ears when Mark only continued to stare at the animal. Undecided, the six-year-old boy considered his current possibilities.

It could quickly change the trajectory of the crosshairs to the side and save the animal's life, however, it was more than certain that his father would be dissatisfied with this result and would seek new prey to be slaughtered. And it will certainly last more than the hour and a half they had been looking for, until they found this deer since the noise of the shot would chase the animals away in the surrounding area.

His second option was even worse than the first, try to convince your father that this was not right and that they should let the animal live and return to the hut they had rented, Mark knew more than anyone else that it wouldn't work, it didn't work the last 25 times and it wouldn't work now. After all, Mark only knew two people that his father obeyed and listened seriously to the point of taking his opinions seriously. One being his own mother and the other being his grandfather, Lieutenant Colonel Henry Morrison.

This only left him with the last option, is the one he was most reluctant to accept even though it was so simple. All he had to do was pull the trigger, hit the target and that's it. Everything would be said and done. The innocent deer would die, his father would be happy and proud and Mark could return to the safety and comfort of the hut while he regretted taking a life.

"And that ..." Commented the six-year-old boy, his sad and depressed voice carried a distant tone and full of regret.

" "Is that it ", what?" He asked the man with broad shoulders with an raised eyebrow while looking away at his son, who only ignored his worried whisper as he turned his full attention to the deer, who should not have more than 10 or 15 years of life.

Mark briefly adjusted the weight of the rifle on the tree trunk while placing the gun's butt on his shoulder, his dominant hand slowly pressed the trigger while his left hand offered a greater balance to the weapon through a firm grip, but without much force. A decided look appeared in his eye as the boy looked at the deer through his spyglass, his breath held at the exact moment when the trigger triggered the firing mechanism.

'I'm sorry.' the boy thought with regret when the loud shot of the shot resonated through the forest, surprising not only his father, but also the deer.

For the first time, the gray world lit up with the existence of a single color when the pointed projectile streaked the air towards the poor helpless animal, leaving behind a trail of red line, which exploded in a spot when the bullet hit the deer's head hard.

The animal's head had a small bump behind it, before the deer collapsed on the ground with a small thump. The bullet had apparently gone through his head, a small red puddle began to appear around his skull as his body struggled slightly, probably due to some cathartic moments prior to his death.

Mark sighed in resignation as he lowered his gun and looked away, in contrast, his father only whistled in approval while nodding.

"Nice shot, son." He commented to the man with some surprise in his voice, bearing a proud smile on his face, the man with long hair looked at the animal slaughtered through his binoculars.

However, his comment seemed to fall on deaf ears once again when his son did not even bother to answer him. Wrinkling his nose slightly in discontent, the man with broad shoulders looked towards his son, only to see the sad, crestfallen expression of the six-year-old boy.

His serious and severe countenance quickly softened into a slightly guilty and somewhat confused expression as he struggled to find something to say that would not affect his son so much. However, unfortunately, he couldn't find anything.

The young child looked away from the floor and looked at his father briefly, before exhaling in frustration through his nose as he turned to walk away. However, even before he could take the first step, Mark felt a heavy hand gently rest on his right shoulder.

"Listen son. I know this may seem a little cruel to the deer, and also go against everything your mother taught you to be right…" the hesitant and nervous voice of the dark-headed man sounded slightly softer and more gentle than he would normally do, making Mark feel momentarily touched, before hearing your father's next words.

"But, there is no way. And things like that that make a man, who makes a good military man. Believe me, when you were in the army, you will thank me for these tips that I am giving you now, and you will think "Wow, good life that I heard my father that day"." His father's safe and confident tone almost sounded arrogant, and even though he had his back, Mark knew that the light-skinned man was smiling with some arrogance.

Powerless, the boy in the gray coat, just stiffened his body slightly, ready to scream that he didn't want to be a marine like his father and grandfather had one day, but in the end Mark restrained himself. His body visibly relaxed after sighing deeply, before responding without much enthusiasm or confidence.

"Right." If his father noticed his dejected behavior or his false tone of affirmation, Mark could not say.

Without waiting for an answer, the dark-haired boy distanced himself from his father and the tree trunk. With the modified rifle in his hands, Mark made his way through the woods towards the hut where he was previously.

Seeing his son's somewhat apathetic behavior, the man with the dark scarf just sighed as he denied with his head. Despite his annoyance, the man with broad shoulders soon followed his son. The poor deer, as expected, had been left behind in a small pool of his own blood, which was quickly absorbed by the snow.

The gentle autumn breeze blew on her brown skin, her brown hair strands flowed in the wind as some leaves fell on her shoulder. His expression was serious, even a little nostalgic, as he looked away at the dead deer in front of him. His mind lost in thought reminded him of what had happened in one of his lives and years ago. A sigh escaped his mouth when he looked at the Beretta 92Fs in his right hand, his mind still wondered how he had hit the target so far.

"Well, thank you very much, dad." He murmured Mark with a distant expression as he returned to reality, the sound of the flow of constant water resonated through the small clearing on the banks of the stream.

Fallen to the grassy soil covered with leaves, there was a white-tailed deer, one of the unique species in the region.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Mark decided to approach the slaughtered animal with an outstretched hand towards him.

The palm of his hand touched the animal's short fur, the sensation of the body cold to the touch made the man in the dark navy blue jacket frown slightly in displeasure before re-focusing on his task.

'To consume.' The man in the white T-shirt and dark pants thought while he was deeply focused.

His hand, like his entire arm, became a blackened muscle mass with some reddish fibers. The blackened mass bubbled slightly when black tentacles and whips, very similar to giant tapeworms and solitary, jumped out of his arm and wrapped around the curved horn deer. The quadruped animal appeared to stir slightly before turning into a mass of reddish ground meat, commented to be sucked by Mark's arm. The cracking of bones breaking and breaking resonated through the clearing over the flow of water from the stream, and for a moment, Mark vowed to hear the dead animal grunt in pain when its head was fully absorbed.

With an admired and terrified look, Mark saw his arm absorb the animal completely, leaving behind only a small trail of blood on the veneered floor as his arm returned to normal. The boy in the white T-shirt shuddered slightly when he felt his stomach turn, before an electrical sensation runs down his spine.

[ Ding! ]

[ Congratulations, after muffling and consuming a deer of high galls, its biomass increased. ]

[ Ding! ]

[ Congratulations! You won + 15 XP for shooting prey. ]

[ Ding! ]

[ Congratulations! You earned + 15 points in your Metamorphosis and Consuming. ]

[ Ding! ]

[ Congratulations! Under the effort and repetition of an action, you have gained the skill of handling firearms. ]

[ Ding! ]

[ Due to the muscular memory of his body and memories of his past life, the skillful handling of firearms rose to Level 10 ]

Mark just blinked his eyes twice, before the messages disappeared from the front of his face. The boy sighed slightly as he stood up again, before turning his attention to the small flap in the upper left corner of his field of vision.

[ Mission status:

2 out of 15 animals of different slaughtered specials;

1 of 3 slaughtered deer;

2 out of 5 animals shot down 25 meters away;

0 out of 1 slaughtered bear; ]

Fiery with his head, the young adult with green eyes turned his attention to the trees around him. The orange brown colored cups served to remind you of the current season, as well as the reason for your urgency to level up as quickly as possible.

'And now, where to go?' thought Mark as he looked at the tall trees, before heading in a random direction, which looked as good as any other.

With his Beretta in hand, keeping his finger always off the trigger to prevent accidents, Mark went on his way among the pines and other unrecognized trees. A curious and admired look appeared on the face of the man with slightly dark skin while admiring the species of trees, plants and unique flowers in the region. Mark cannot recognize most of the trees he had seen on his way until then, for him, nor did one of those trees really look like any specimen he had known in his past life, with the exception of pine trees, Mark thought that all vegetation was quite exotic.

However, he preferred to attribute this to his lack of knowledge and his own ignorance, than to admit the possibility that this new world would be extensively more different than he originally thought.

After a few more minutes of walking, Mark saw something with the corner of his eye that caught his eye and piqued his curiosity.

It was only for a minute, maybe even less than that, but Mark could have sworn he had seen a plump, feathered bird, slightly larger than a chicken, running through the top of the small mound on your right, before jumping behind a fallen tree trunk.

"What was that?" He commented the man with deep green eyes, before raising an eyebrow in confusion and curiosity. With the gun in fists, the young adult hurriedly walked towards where the gray figure had run and hidden.

Upon reaching the top of the mound, Mark briefly looked towards the tree trunk before stopping abruptly when his senses attacked. His body's hair shivered, his lungs filled with air as his eardrums hummed gently before detecting a low growl. His pupils shrunk slightly as his eyes widened when he saw a black figure jumping towards him with the corner of his eye, holding his breath, Mark felt his whole body tension, before he jumped away.

The green-eyed man felt a draft passing near his body when a pair of claws almost hit him.

Mark rolled over the veneered floor before turning to his attacker while resting on one knee and aiming at the creature. Great was the surprise of the young adult when he saw a large gray wolf with dark fur and approximately 1.9 meters high.

'a wolf?' thought Mark as he blinked his eyes a couple of times as he looked at the bristling animal in front of him.

The tall wolf looked at Mark with blood thirst and hunger for meat as he growled threateningly, with a slightly sloping posture, the animal showed its teeth as it prepared for a new attack. Over his head, his new and level was proudly displayed. Wolf, level 5.