Hunting Lessons (Taro, Peredolia, Yaofan)


The second day after the Arrival…


Broad feet stomp through the undergrowth. By the time Taro clumsily thuds his way through the bushes, his chest and forearms are scraped up by branches, and the elk doe he had spotted is long gone, pranced away cleanly through the forest like it belongs there. Not like him. Jeez, dwarves just aren’t made for this.

Stopping to catch his breath, Taro rests his hands on his hips and lets his Stamina bar refill. It’s a pretty big Stamina bar, if he does say so himself. Must be a dwarf thing, or it’s just tied to Constitution. Gotta be some perks.

The young man looks around the late afternoon woods. Birds are singing from somewhere. Small animals rustle the bushes. Somewhere, the sound of his elk escaping. Not that Taro can tell which one is her. Holding his stomach with an arm covered in shallow red scrapes, Taro hears his insides gurgle in protest at the lack of food. “This isn’t working.”

A day and a half now, the village has been scrambling to get some kind of order together. The desperate back at camp were eying the docile sheep hungrily, but slaughter all their free starting livestock on day two and they’ll be completely boned going forward. Gritting his teeth, Taro hopes the sensible voices back at camp can keep the panic at bay long enough for he and the other volunteer hunters to find something sizeable to feed them.

“Peredolia,” Taro speaks his advisor’s name with trepidation, more nervous than ever to call on the AI mascot since Arrival. Seeing the other NPCs moving around and acting and talking off script, it makes him worry how much the advisor would lean into his… character now that he’s- whatever he is. Awake? Real?

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Oh. The user speaks my name, as if summoning a demon. Are you afraid it bites? It is only a name. It cannot hurt you.

“I just,” rubbing the back of his head, Taro does his best to look casual. “Just stressed and hungry. Hey, do you know any hunting tips, please?”

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Please, he says, so politely. Demure, even. If I asked you to get on your knees and beg for my advice, would you do it?
Aha. Ha. Ha. No, there is no need. Your faithful servant is programmed to fulfill any and all of your needs, user. Let us begin with this:
Though I do not come equipped with wilderness survival tips, the Target Lock feature remains functional in the standard Fantasy Village User Interface on this side of the window. Simply designate the prey in your mind as your Target, and I will be able to see its health bar through the intervening obstacles. For instance. The elk doe that fled traveled north of your position.
When you are within range, simply use a Smart Missile. It will locate your designated target on its own. Arrows have a greater range than that spear you clumsily carry, it is a shame you lack anything to properly shoot them with.

Craning his head back, Taro peers at the sunlight filtering through the branches. Judging by the position of the sun, north should be… this way. Taro starts trudging through the underbrush again, this time using his spear to swat and crack through branches in his way. It’s not as though he can make is progress any quieter somehow. It’s make more noise or get scratched up and make noise anyways.

“Anything to shoot them with…” Taro mumbles to himself, mulling over Peredolia’s words. If the system recognizes the range value on the arrows, does he actually need to shoot them for Smart Missile to work? Back in Fantasy Village it was impossible to just throw arrows around, but there are a lot of interface mechanics that you can get around out here by just doing things the devs never thought of.

Stopping, Taro collects some sticks and stones from around his feet. “Peredolia, open the Basic Crafting Menu,” he instructs. When the window changes, he begins loading the materials into the template for Stone Arrows. A progress wheel appears as the stack of five arrows builds in the completed item slot. Reaching inside, Taro takes them and holds the bundle in his fist, then squats down and uses his fingernails to inscribe a Smart Missile rune on each arrow. Each completed rune glows with raw blue mana. Peredolia watches Taro’s actions with a curious green eye, expression hard to read.

Was he trying to subtly get Taro to figure this out on his own or something? Whatever it is, the AI advisor doesn’t make any smug comments. Finally standing back up, Taro nods his head. “Let me know when I’m in arrow range.”

Once again, the dwarf is barreling through the forest, using his bulk to break through the branches like a human- demihuman?- cannonball. Charging north, Taro keeps one arm reeled back, poised to throw.

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Now!

At the advisor’s signal, Taro swings his hand forward and releases the bundle of arrows. Possessed by a will of their own, the fly between the trees, bushes and branches like darting birds. Still stomping forward, Taro hears the elk call out in pain somewhere ahead. Soon, there’s a trail of blood to follow.

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Your Early Hunting Practices ability has leveled up. Level reached: 9/100.

The pursuit continues. A dash, a pause for Stamina to refill, then a dash again. Taro nearly trips over something (a root maybe?), but he doesn’t look back, just keeps moving forward. The elk’s footprints on the ground become staggered, the smears of blood on the plantlife larger. Some branch must have caught in one of the wounds and tore it open. Even as the ancient hunter-gatherer instincts send thrills coursing through Taro’s adrenal system, he feels a faint sympathy for the animal.

When it dies, Taro knows. He knows before he sees it. For the second time since the Arrival reset his level to 1, Taro feels a sudden surge of strength through his body. Each of the scrapes and cuts across his arms and torso seal shut at once. Last time, it was the result of finishing off a few wild rabbits caught in simple snare traps.

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Experience threshold reached: You are now Level 3.
6 Stat points to distribute in Character Menu.
1 Skill point to assign in Skill Menu.
Your Early Hunting Practices ability has leveled up. Level reached: 10/100.
Early Food Prep ability unlocked!
Congratulations, Mister Vandernail. You have ever so slightly increased in my esteem.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Taro slows down. He takes his time clearing his path to the elk.


Meanwhile…


It was easier to run. To run and hide, somewhere no one could find her. Easier to pretend this was all a dream, and ignore the reality of everything- the immense weight of the task before her. Lying beneath the layers of bush and branch above, Kimiko stares at the speckled light of day shining in from beyond the forest. It’s peaceful here. In a strange, alien way, it reminds her of her room. Light edging in around and between the blinds in her window. The cool grass under her head is like a fresh change of sheets. Always nice, when she got around to bothering. Some music would be nice. The birds do their best, but they don’t hold a candle to performers like Akiko Shikata.

Then, a stormfront of noise approaches Kimiko’s position. Tensing up, she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to disappear. Just disappear...

Stalker’s Gait activates. Kimiko had been silently building up the Beginner Stealth ability out here just by being unnoticed by some of the passing animals, until the Skill had unlocked itself at the basic level.

Opening her eyes again, Kimiko stares up. She watches a long shadow leap over her- an elk. Flecks of blood stain the leaves and branches where the animal passes, and a short, squat wrecking ball crashes through hot on its trail. The dwarven hunter accidentally kicks Kimiko in the side as he passes, and she flinches, grabbing her flank. More pain. Real, piercing pain. He slammed right into the spot Dave had punched her the other day, still tender with a faint bruise.

Baring her teeth, Kimiko sits up and looks in the direction he ran. It’s not a player she recognizes immediately- she recognizes the ruddy red leather outfit, but doesn’t know his actual name. He must be out here looking for some food…

Kimiko feels her stomach rumble. She’d eaten some shoots and roots her Vagrant abilities notified her were safe. The grit of the dirt and the bitter flavor still linger in her mouth. What she wouldn’t do for one of the beef ramen bowls from that place with the kinda cute-looking deliveryperson…

Climbing to her feet, Kimiko raises a hand and drags it down her face. “C-come on, Kimi. Come on…” swallowing down the nerves, she steps out of the comfortably enclosed space beneath her bushes. Everything is too damn open out here. It’s too much for Kimiko. It’s too much for… for Kimiko.

“Come on, Yaofan,” letting her hand fall away from her face, she takes a deep breath and picks a few leaves and blades of grass out of her hair. Yaofan, the top Vagrant on the server. The legendary Vagrant Purist. That’s who she needs to be right now. Who she needs- who everyone needs. This is what she does. “Set Kimiko aside, and just- be her.”

Psyching herself up is enough to allow Yaofan to give pursuit to the hunter and his prey. The way that doe was bleeding, Yaofan calculates it will expire soon from exhaustion and blood loss. It’s there, inside her head. The knowledge, as if it had always been there, coming to the surface. Kimiko would be clueless, useless, but Yaofan?

There’s no rush, so she picks her way through at her leisure. For a moment, even, confidently.

When she finds the dwarf, he’s covering his mouth with his sleeve. “Eugh. What’s that stench? …’s it sick?” he’s talking to himself, completely unaware of her approach. At his feet lay a freshly dead doe, flanks skewered with stone arrows. Two of them are snapped and pulled on by branches, stretching the wounds wide. The sight of the gore makes Kimiko gag. Yaofan sniffs the air.

“After something dies, it empties its bladder and bowels,” she says in a deadpan, that just barely manages to come out as nonchalant and not spaced out.

The dwarf nearly jumps out of his boots, spinning around and grabbing his spear in both hands. “Nani!” he exclaims, stumbling backwards over a root and falling atop the bloody Elk. “Ah, oh. Vagrant, yes?”

Konnichiwa,” Yaofan says quietly, reaching down to help him up. He looks relieved to hear a Japanese voice reply to him, and the two of them switch to their native language. “I think I can help you clean up and butcher the kill. Split it with me in exchange?”

“Of course! I was looking to catch something for everyone. They’re just about ready to start killing the sheep,” the dwarf brushes himself off and bows. “Egawa Taro, nice to meet you.”

Yaofan bows awkwardly back. “Just use my character name for now. Yaofan. It’s nice to meet you, Taro.”

“Wait, Yaofan, I know that name,” the dwarf rubs his stubbly chin. “Oh! What, you were on the top of a bunch of the leaderboards! Like exploration.”

She kneels beside the elk and looks it over, letting the flood of information on what to do and how to do it cram out Kimiko in her head. Fill it with information and procedure, the essence of Yaofan the Legend. “That’s right. That’s me,” an affirmation to herself, as much as to him. “Here. Let me show you what to do, and try not to be squeamish.” … An affirmation to herself, as much as to him.

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Pub: 01 Dec 2025 02:15 UTC

Edit: 01 Dec 2025 02:16 UTC

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