Chapter 4: FIRST HUNT
"BITE!"
"BITE!"
Hari jerked backward just in time. The deer's teeth snapped shut, missing their target by a narrow margin. Its attack left only a faint mark on his hand, but that was enough to make him understand how dangerous this seemingly adorable creature could be.
Only a few seconds earlier, he had been admiring its unusual appearance and thinking about how cute it was.
Now, he was staring into the mouth of an animal that wanted to bite him.
The deer seemed pleased with itself. It held its head high, watching Hari with an expression that almost suggested satisfaction. Perhaps it had rarely encountered a creature weaker than itself. Whatever the reason, the little encounter appeared to have convinced it that Hari was easy prey.
Hari, meanwhile, was having very different thoughts.
What the hell is wrong with this deer?
His first instinct was to run. On Earth, a deer was an animal one might admire from a distance, not something one expected to attack a sleeping human. But this was not Earth, and the cataclysm had changed the rules of the world. Even a familiar-looking animal could be dangerous.
He had no intention of becoming the deer's breakfast.
Hari quickly assessed the situation. His body was stronger than the one he had possessed on Earth, and he had already discovered that he could use mana in some way. But he had no proper weapon, no experience fighting dangerous animals, and no idea what abilities this deer might possess.
Could he outrun it?
He doubted it.
The deer had already demonstrated that it could approach him and attack without hesitation. Turning his back on it and sprinting through an unfamiliar forest sounded like a good way to invite another bite.
Hari moved backward, then performed a few quick rolls to put some distance between them. He regained his footing and watched the animal carefully.
The deer hesitated.
That small pause gave Hari time to think.
Its movements were aggressive, but its hunting behaviour seemed crude. It had attacked him, yet it did not immediately follow up with another strike. Perhaps its instincts were still developing after the cataclysm. Perhaps it had only recently begun hunting smaller creatures and had not yet learned how to deal with stronger prey.
Hari could not be certain, but he had noticed something important: the deer was not behaving like an experienced predator.
That meant he might have a chance.
He glanced toward the branch he had used to catch fish the previous evening. It was not a proper weapon, but it was better than having nothing. Moving slowly, Hari retrieved it while keeping his attention on the deer.
The animal reacted at once. It seemed caught between fear and aggression, as though the branch made it uncertain whether Hari was still helpless prey.
Hari tightened his grip.
The deer had probably spent most of its existence avoiding larger predators. Now, after feeding on smaller creatures, it had begun to see itself as a hunter. Its confidence might be growing faster than its actual abilities.
Hari knew he could not rely on that assumption alone. If he made a mistake, he would pay for it.
The deer lowered its head and charged.
Hari braced himself, gripping the branch with both hands.
The animal's antlers collided with the wood.
He had expected the impact to drive him backward, but the pressure was surprisingly slight. The branch held, and the collision disrupted the deer's charge.
Hari immediately seized the opportunity.
He drove a powerful knee into the deer's body, leaving it disoriented. Before it could recover, he thrust the branch toward it. The deer recoiled, and Hari attacked again, striking and stabbing with the makeshift weapon.
Blood spurted from the wounds.
"Puchi."
"Puchi."
The sounds seemed strangely small compared with the violence of the struggle. Hari had never imagined that his first real hunt in another world would involve fighting a deer at arm's length, but there was no time to dwell on the absurdity.
The animal tried to escape.
Hari refused to let it go.
He understood that if he allowed the deer to recover and launch another attack, he might lose his only advantage. He moved in, seized its antlers, and wrestled it to the ground.
The deer struggled beneath him. Its movements were desperate, but they were becoming weaker. Hari held on, ignoring its attempts to break free.
The struggle was brief but intense. By the time the deer grew exhausted, Hari was breathing hard and his muscles were tense from the effort. He used the opportunity to mount the animal and deliver the final blows.
Gradually, the deer's resistance stopped.
The light faded from its eyes.
Hari remained still for a moment, making sure the fight was over. Then he finally let himself breathe.
He had survived his first encounter with a predator.
More importantly, he had made his first successful kill.
A wave of triumph rose within him. He had been dropped into a strange world with no equipment, no guide, and no idea what awaited him in the forest. Yet he had managed to defend himself and bring down an animal that had tried to eat him.
It was a small victory, but it was his.
He would take it.
After recovering from the struggle, Hari dragged the deer toward the riverside. The carcass was not easy to move, but he managed to get it there and began working on it.
First, he fashioned crude tools from the deer's antlers. They were useful materials, and he had no reason to waste anything that might help him survive. Then he skinned the animal and cleaned the carcass.
The work took care and patience. Hari had no modern equipment, so he relied on what he could make and find in the forest. A sharp stone served as a tool for scraping away the remaining flesh and tissue from the hide.
Once he had prepared enough meat, he ate a portion.
The food restored some of his energy after the exhausting fight. He had spent much of his time in this world worrying about water, hunger, and the possibility of being attacked. Now he had proof that he could obtain food for himself.
That was worth something.
But he still needed clothing.
Hari returned to the hide and spread it across a smooth rock. Working carefully, he scraped away the remaining flesh and tissue until the surface was clean. He then soaked the hide in the cool river water, allowing the natural enzymes to soften its tough fibres.
After that, he stretched it over a wooden frame and secured it with strips of vine. The hide needed to remain taut while it dried in the sunlight, so he checked it regularly and adjusted the vines whenever necessary.
It was slow work, but Hari had no better option.
As the hide dried, he monitored its condition, making sure it kept its shape rather than shrinking unevenly. When it was ready, he cut it into rectangular strips and tied them together with thin strips of vine.
The result was a functional garment.
It was certainly not as refined as modern clothing, and it would not win any fashion awards. Still, it served its purpose. Hari put it on and felt a quiet sense of satisfaction.
He had killed an animal, prepared its meat, fashioned tools from its antlers, and made clothing from its hide. Each task had taught him something about surviving in this unfamiliar environment.
For the first time since arriving on the mountain, he felt a little more capable of handling the world around him.
He was no longer merely reacting to every new danger. He was learning how to live here.
The days that followed passed in a steady routine. Hari hunted, gathered what he could use, and continued adapting to the forest. His body grew stronger as he worked, and his experience helped him respond more confidently to the challenges around him.
He paid attention to his surroundings, practised his hunting skills, and became more familiar with the resources available to him. The rainforest remained dangerous, but it was no longer entirely unknown.
Fifteen days passed in relentless effort.
By the end of that period, Hari's body had reached what he understood to be its peak evolution. He had gained strength and resilience, and he was better prepared to venture farther from his shelter. Each morning, he set out ready to face whatever the wilderness might throw at him.
One morning, he spotted a deer near the riverbank.
Hari slowed and watched it. Its graceful shape reminded him of his first successful hunt, and he immediately began considering how he might approach it. He had gained experience since that first encounter, and his senses were sharper now. He was confident enough to plan his next move rather than rush straight toward his prey.
Before he could act, another deer appeared.
Hari stopped and reconsidered his approach. Two animals meant that he would have to be more careful. He decided to wait patiently, hoping one would leave and give him a better opportunity to strike.
He remained still, observing them from a distance.
Then the atmosphere changed.
A red wolf appeared.
Hari's attention snapped toward the newcomer. The wolf carried itself with the confidence of a predator that had no reason to fear anything in its territory. Its eyes burned with an intense, predatory focus, and its arrival transformed an ordinary hunting opportunity into something far more dangerous.
But it was the wolf's claws that truly caught Hari's attention.
Blue flames flickered around them.
Hari stared, momentarily unable to reconcile what he was seeing. He had already encountered strange animals in this world, but a wolf with burning claws was something else entirely. The blue fire cast an eerie glow across the forest floor, making the creature look even more dangerous.
The wolf let out a ferocious snarl.
Then it pounced.
The two deer had little time to react. The wolf attacked with terrifying speed, and the encounter ended in a burst of brutal violence. In moments, both deer lay lifeless, their would-be hunter reduced to a helpless spectator.
Hari did not move.
He watched in stunned silence as the wolf claimed its grisly prize. The speed and force of the attack left no doubt about the difference between the creatures he had been hunting and the predator before him.
Until that moment, Hari had been proud of how far he had come. He had survived the mountain, learned to find food and water, and killed a deer with his own hands. His body had grown stronger, and he had begun to believe that he could handle the dangers of the rainforest.
The red wolf shattered that confidence.
This was what a real predator looked like.
The wolf finished its attack and marked its territory. Its presence seemed to spread through the surrounding forest, casting a shadow of fear over the area.
Hari remained hidden, hoping the animal would leave without discovering him.
Then the wolf turned its head.
Its gaze settled on Hari's hiding place.
His heart began to race.
For one terrible moment, he could do nothing but stare back. He knew the wolf had noticed him, and he had just witnessed what it could do to two deer. If it decided to attack him, his improved strength might not be enough to save him.
The wolf moved.
Hari reacted immediately, leaping away from his hiding spot just in time to avoid its lethal attack. The sudden movement left him with no doubt about the animal's intentions.
It was willing to kill him.
Hari tightened his grip on the branch. He had no other weapon, and the branch suddenly seemed pitifully inadequate against a creature whose claws burned with blue flames.
Still, he turned to face the wolf.
He could not afford to lose sight of it. His body tensed as he prepared for another attack, watching the predator's movements and trying to judge whether it would come at him again.
The wolf growled.
Hari held his ground for a moment, then took a cautious step backward. He had no desire to provoke the animal further. There was a difference between being brave and being foolish, and he had no intention of confusing the two.
The wolf did not immediately pursue him.
It seemed to have no immediate interest in chasing Hari, at least for the moment. Perhaps it was more concerned with its territory or its prey. Whatever the reason, the brief pause offered Hari an opportunity.
He took it.
Turning away, he fled through the forest as fast as he could.
His muscles tightened with every stride, and his mind raced as he ran. He had survived his first hunt, but that victory had taught him only the most basic lesson of this world. Strength and determination were useful, but they did not guarantee survival.
There were creatures here that could kill him before he had time to react.
The red wolf had made that painfully clear.
Hari continued running, desperate to put distance between himself and the predator. He had come to this world believing that he could adapt through effort and perseverance. Now he understood that survival would demand more than physical strength.
He would need cunning.
He would need adaptability.
And above all, he would need the will to endure against all odds.
The forest closed around him as he fled, and the red wolf's blue flames remained burned into his memory.
His first hunt had taught him how to kill.
His encounter with the wolf had taught him how easily he could become the prey.
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Author's note: Jallikattu, also known as Eruthazhuvuthal, is a traditional bull-taming sport played in Tamil Nadu. In the sport, a bull is released into a field, and participants attempt to control it by holding on to the large hump on its back. Traditionally, silver or gold coins may be tied to the bull's horns, and the participant who succeeds in controlling the bull wins.