A few weeks have passed since I realized I was transported to another world.

  Now, I’m in the body of a five-year-old boy named Axel. He has curly brown hair, green eyes, and pale skin. His body is rather weak—even a few days ago, I came down with a fever.

  Adapting here is hard. It’s so different from the modern world. The hygiene is awful, the food tastes bland, and I have to learn an entirely new language.

  Almost every night before I fall asleep, I cry.

  I think about my mother, Rae, my guild members—everything I left behind.

  I try to stay strong, but I can’t. It just can’t be helped.

  I wonder how those protagonists in isekai stories adapt so quickly. I’m jealous of them.

  This boy's father is a hunter. We live in a secluded cabin deep in the forest. He leaves to hunt most days, and when he’s home, he teaches me the language.

  Now I know his name.

  Arnold.

  It’s just the two of us here. I wonder where his wife is.

  Most of my days are spent trying to learn the language and doing light exercises.

  Back in my old world, I was weak—physically fragile because I never exercised. It wasn’t until I met Rae that I started working out.

  While I was doing push-ups one afternoon, the door creaked open.

  "I’m home!"

  Arnold’s voice echoed through the cabin.

  He stepped inside, a massive bow slung over his back.

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  "Father..." I called out, still catching my breath.

  "Wh## ar# you ###ng, Axel?"

  I still can’t understand the language completely. I try to piece it together from context, but sometimes I get it wrong.

  "Exer####," I muttered, attempting to say exercise in his language.

  Arnold chuckled softly.

  He knelt down to my eye level and gently patted my head.

  It feels... nice.

  But I wonder—how would he react if he knew I wasn’t really his son?

  If I want to survive in this world, I need information.

  But I don’t know how to get it.

  There are no books in this cabin. I don’t even know what the written language looks like. Somehow, I need to convince Arnold to tell me about the outside world.

  I thought hard about how to get the message across.

  Later, when he was preparing dinner, I grabbed his hand and led him outside.

  I pointed to the deer he had hunted earlier.

  Then I tapped my head and said, "Know."

  Arnold’s eyes lit up, and he gave me a bright smile.

  Did he understand me?

  Maybe now I can finally learn more about this world. Maybe I can adapt.

  At least, that’s what I thought…

  Until the next day, when he brought me along on his hunt instead.

  I know the language barrier between us is strong, but why would Arnold think that if I wanted to know more about deer, the solution was to take me hunting with him?

  Well… actually, that kind of makes sense. But still, who in their right mind brings a five-year-old into a forest full of insects and dangerous animals?

  Then again, what choice do I have?

  And I should be thankful to Arnold because he adjusts to my pace. Now I'm thinking, isn’t bringing me just hindering his hunt? We even need to rest every 10 minutes of walking.

  At least he’s letting me explore the world beyond the cabin.

  This is actually the first time I’ve wandered this far from home.

  We move slowly, carefully. Arnold steps lightly, making barely a sound as we weave through the dense trees. I mimic him, trying not to snap any twigs underfoot.

  The forest is thick and alive—the scent of damp earth fills the air, and distant birds chirp overhead.

  Then, something strange catches my eye.

  What’s that?

  In the bottom right corner of my vision, something faint flickers.

  A circular shape.

  No matter how I turn my head, it stays fixed in the corner of my sight.

  There are two green dots on it—one at the center and another close by.

  I blink rapidly.

  What the hell is this?

  I try to ignore it for now, focusing on following Arnold’s steady movements.

  But it’s hard to ignore.

  At one point, we spot a group of deer grazing quietly in a small clearing. Arnold halts and gestures for me to stay still.

  Then, that strange circle in my vision shifts.

  Several red dots appear—clustered in the direction of the deer.

  My breath catches.

  Is this… a mini-map?