I felt guilt, yes—but it wasn't stupidity. Ever since I'd begun to understand life, there had always been a clear line between feeling guilty and being reckless, and I had no intention of crossing it.
From the clothing people wore, the way they ran their errands, the structure of the buildings, and even the furniture inside them, I could already tell this world was nothing like Earth. Not even close.
The thought of living without smartphones, television, electricity—without even a radio—almost made me want to cry. I could already imagine how difficult this kind of life would be for me.
The house we had just stepped out of looked like something straight out of the Middle Ages, though slightly improved. It was mostly built from gray bricks and stone, surrounded by bushes, with a wooden rooftop that creaked faintly in the wind.
At the moment, I was being carried in Elina's arms—my new mother. As she walked along the front of the house, she occasionally spoke softly to me.
Little did she know, I wasn't paying attention at all.
Though her voice sounded like words to me, my focus was entirely elsewhere—on the status screen floating silently in midair before my eyes.
It was strange, seeing a status screen follow me around like that, but my curiosity far outweighed any discomfort. Compared to it, everything else felt insignificant.
Back on Earth, my life had been painfully boring. I had no friends—not even during my university days—because friendships often led to trouble. I had always been alone.
In my previous world, the only people I truly cared about were my mother and my sister.
Aside from them, there was only work—endless days and nights of it.
As I stared at the status screen, I noticed small changes. My age, my experience points, even my level had shifted slightly. It felt as though the system was constantly recording my daily activities, resetting and updating with time.
That realization made me uneasy.
If it was tracking everything so closely, then what kind of "surprise" would the transmigration starter pack bring next?
After a few moments, I tore my gaze away from the black screen and looked in the direction Elina was walking.
As she moved around the house, she continued whispering softly to me.
I didn't pay much attention, but bits and pieces of what she said gave me a rough idea of the village's layout.
Our farmhouse was located some distance away from the village's central area.
She didn't explain much about the inner circle—only that it was far more dangerous than where we lived and that I should stay away from it in the future.
The outer circle, on the other hand, consisted mostly of wild, uncultivated land—almost like a forest. She mentioned it in fragments, quietly describing what could be found there.
We were still outside the house when she suddenly stopped walking.
I felt her arms tense slightly as her gaze shifted downward toward me.
What's going on?
After enduring stress for days with no end, all she wanted was a moment of peace. But something about my behavior must have felt wrong to her.
Moments earlier, I had been lost in thought. Then, without warning, a wave of nausea hit me.
At first, it was subtle—but then it spread, turning into a sharp, overwhelming pain I had never felt before. It surged through my body, snapping me out of my thoughts completely.
What's happening to me? I wondered, dazed and confused.
I realized I was struggling to breathe, my chest tightening as I began gasping for air.
Elina noticed immediately. Fear and panic flashed across her face.
The pain intensified. I could feel my body growing weaker, colder, as if strength was draining from me by the second.
For me, the fear came from losing control—my body wasn't responding, and I had no idea what was happening.
Whatever this was, it felt dangerous.
For Elina, it was something far worse.
To her, it meant her baby's life might be in danger.
Without understanding the cause, she reacted instinctively. She turned and ran back toward the house, holding me tightly as her voice rang out in desperate screams the moment she burst inside.
Soon after, my body convulsed, and I vomited a dark, thick substance.
The sight alone made the entire family freeze, as if their world were collapsing before their eyes.
With every moment that passed, Elina's regret deepened. Fear twisted her heart as she wondered if she was somehow responsible.
Each time my body forced something out, it felt like my throat was being torn apart from the inside. The effort left me weak and trembling.
The girls were already crying. John and Elina stood frozen, their thoughts scattered, unable to think clearly.
The only person with any medical knowledge was the midwife—but she lived far away. Even with a mule cart, it would take too long. And by then… no one knew what state I might be in.
That helplessness crushed them.
At that moment, all they could do was pray—for a miracle.
The more Elina thought about it, the more powerless she felt. She didn't know what to do anymore. She wanted to help me, to give me something soothing, but fear held her back.
What if doing something—anything—only made it worse?