A Bug In Fate

"What kind of title is that?"

Alden stared at the floating screen for several seconds, rereading the description again and again. The more he read, the less sense it made. A flaw within the tapestry of fate? A variable absent from prophecy? Those sounded less like system text and more like something an ancient sage would mutter before vanishing into obscurity.

He focused on the title again and opened its details.

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Title: A Bug

Rank: Unique

Description:

An existence that should not exist.

A flaw within the tapestry of fate.

A variable absent from prophecy.

Neither chosen nor rejected.

Neither destined nor forgotten.

The laws of the world fail to fully recognize this existence.

Divination becomes unreliable.

Fate cannot accurately predict your future.

Those who attempt to perceive your destiny may receive contradictory results.

Effects:

• Increased resistance to divination.

• Increased resistance to prophecy.

• Fate-based abilities are less effective.

• Growth potential cannot be measured.

• Luck cannot be accurately evaluated.

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After reading it for the fifth time, Alden finally pressed his fingers to his temples and exhaled.

"So basically... I’m special."

That was the only interpretation that made sense. Whatever fate, prophecy, or divination meant in this world, they clearly mattered—and according to the description, none of them applied to him properly.

Honestly, it didn’t sound bad.

He closed the interface and finally looked around.

Excitement had its place, but so did survival. Getting distracted here would be a quick way to die twice.

The forest felt even stranger than before. Massive trees stretched into a dark sky, their trunks wider than houses and their branches thick enough to resemble elevated roads. Above them, two moons cast faint red and blue light through the canopy, painting the world in an unsettling yet beautiful glow.

Alden inhaled slowly and steadied himself.

Panic wouldn’t help.

He was alive.

He had a system.

And, most importantly, he hadn’t died again.

That was progress.

His gaze fell on a fallen branch nearby. It wasn’t impressive, but it was long and solid enough to serve as a makeshift weapon. He picked it up and tested a few swings.

It looked less like swordsmanship and more like a child imitating a warrior.

Still, it was better than nothing.

Armed with his "weapon," Alden moved deeper into the forest.

At first, nothing happened. Only insects, distant birds, and the rustling of leaves accompanied him. As time passed, however, hunger began to replace curiosity.

Survival was starting to feel very real.

Then movement caught his attention.

A small creature emerged from behind a bush.

It was roughly knee-high, shaped like a squirrel, but its body was covered in dark scales. Two short horns jutted from its head, and its tail swayed as it sniffed the ground, unaware of him.

Alden’s expression shifted.

Food.

Carefully, he stepped forward.

One step.

Then another.

The creature suddenly froze.

Its head snapped toward him.

Crimson eyes locked onto his.

Silence held for a brief moment.

Then it lunged.

"What the—?!"

Alden reacted instinctively, swinging the branch down like a sword.

The impact landed, but the result was far from ideal. The force nearly tore the branch from his grip, and a sharp crack echoed as it split in two.

The creature tumbled back, quickly recovering.

Alden stared at the broken stick.

The creature stared back.

Neither looked satisfied.

"...Right."

Only then did it sink in. Back on Earth, small animals ran away from humans. Here, that assumption could get him killed.

That was a mistake.

A dangerous one.

He dropped the broken branch and clenched his fists.

No weapon meant no choice but his body.

The creature lowered itself again and charged. Alden shifted aside and threw a punch—but the moment his fist connected, pain shot through his knuckles.

The creature was far stronger than it looked.

"Seriously...?"

It tried to bite him. He barely avoided it.

What followed was pure chaos.

Neither had technique. The creature relied on speed and aggression; Alden relied on instinct and stubborn persistence.

Several times he narrowly avoided claws and teeth. Several times he took minor hits. His clothes tore, and scratches formed along his arms.

But slowly, a pattern emerged.

Every attack was a full commitment. No hesitation. No adjustment mid-charge.

That was exploitable.

When the creature lunged again, Alden waited longer than before.

Then, at the last possible moment, he stepped aside.

The creature missed completely and slammed headfirst into a tree root.

Before it could recover, Alden moved in, tackling it to the ground.

It struggled violently, but repeated blows eventually weakened its movements until it stopped entirely.

Silence returned.

Alden lay on the ground, breathing heavily.

"...I won."

He stayed there for a moment, staring upward.

Then his stomach growled.

"...And I still need dinner."

---

An hour later, after recovering some strength, he dragged the creature by its tail. Staying out in the open with meat was an easy way to attract worse things.

Fortunately, he found shelter at the base of a massive tree. A hollow cavity formed a natural space inside the trunk.

"This works."

Nearby, he also found clusters of blue mushrooms. Strange, but at this point, "strange" had lost most of its meaning.

He gathered them without much thought and went inside.

Starting a fire proved far more difficult than expected. By the time flames finally caught, his arms felt exhausted.

Still, it worked.

Soon, the hollow trunk filled with warmth as pieces of monster meat roasted over the fire. The smell was not appealing, but hunger made it irrelevant.

He ate cautiously.

Not great. Not terrible. More importantly, he didn’t collapse.

Good enough.

Then his attention shifted to the mushrooms.

He looked at them for a moment.

"If this kills me, at least it won’t be from starvation."

He took a bite.

Seconds passed.

Nothing happened.

Then a blue screen appeared.

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[ Minor Poison Resistance Acquired ]

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Alden slowly lowered the mushroom.

"...That’s not reassuring."

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