Chapter 15

    The Little Bear’s Memories

    Kit was confused when he regained consciousness amidst a strange sensation. He could not open his eyes to see his surroundings, but at this moment, he felt a soft warmth and something wet and pliable brushing against his body and face repeatedly. It was an indescribably comfortable feeling.

    (Ah. That tickles. Stop it...) The protest that came from his throat was only a short, broken sound.

    After a while, an overwhelming hunger took over, forcing the body—unable to move at will—to urgently search for something to eat. The human instincts he once had began to shift into those of a wild animal when warm, rich milk flowed hungrily down the throat of this body. A soul that had lived through two worlds immediately realized that he had transformed into a wild animal. His tiny nose started detecting the constant scent of musk and the metallic tang of blood. Nearby, he could sense the movement of two other small bodies similar in size to his own.

    His mind suddenly recalled the giant bear whose meat had just been butchered and its hide flayed. The soul of an old man quickly realized that he might be dreaming about that bear without knowing it. What a vivid dream and such a realistic experience…

    Or perhaps the deities of this world wanted him to experience the life of the great bear he had just taken down?

    Confusion began to take root in his mind…

    (I...I wasn’t the one who killed it. So why...?)

    Though countless questions arose, time within this hyper-realistic dream passed by agonizingly slowly. The little bear’s body gradually grew stronger thanks to the nourishment of the rich milk. Then, his lessons on how to survive in the forest, as taught by a great bear, began throughout the passing year. The scent of grass and earth carried a faint fragrance. The open space within the vast forest allowed his small body to run and play freely. But the joyous moments were fleeting.

    Before the first winter arrived, the strange soul within the bear’s body came to understand the harshness of nature and the dangers that all creatures in the wild must face.

    He lost one of his littermates to a pack of white-furred wolves that shimmered under the sunlight. Their fangs were razor-sharp, glistening and dripping with blood. Mother Bear fought valiantly, slaying three of them before forcing the pack to retreat. That day... the bear family feasted upon the carcasses of the wolves with both vengeance and hunger.

    The following year, he lost his remaining sibling to a sworn enemy—a true nemesis of crescent moon bears. Kit had never hated these furred creatures before, but the instincts of a bear were difficult to suppress. His skill in using claws and fangs advanced rapidly as he encountered his enemies time and again. Though he always bore fresh wounds as souvenirs, the young bear—now approaching adulthood—did not feel any lingering resentment.

    This was simply the way of nature. Only strength ensured survival.

    Before the third winter arrived, his once-kind mother bear—who had diligently taught him how to forage and sustain himself—finally decided to drive him out of the den. The little one did not understand the bear’s language, but the meaning his massive mother conveyed was crystal clear.

    "Go find your own food now, son. Shoo, shoo." Ah... she must have grown tired of taking care of a fully grown, fur-covered brat.

    Thus, the young bear ventured out on his own, struggling to hunt, stockpile fat, and endure the bitter cold of winter for several years. Each time he survived the harsh winter winds, his strength increased. His hunting and ambush skills sharpened. His senses and memory of food sources became more precise.

    After living as a crescent moon bear for ten years, his hunting territory within the forest had expanded vast and wide. His massive body, undefeated in combat, made every wild creature in the area recognize the unique scent of this fierce bear. The massacre of a silver-furred wolf pack before the thirteenth winter ensured that no other predators dared to challenge him within his domain.

    The life of a male bear was mostly solitary. Only for brief periods each year did females seek him out for mating. Natural instincts dictated that every mother bear fiercely protected her cubs more than anything else. Thus, despite having sired many offspring over the decades, the father of the forest never once met his own sons or daughters. What a lonely life it was.

    Kit’s soul continued to observe through sensations and thoughts as if he were the owner of the body. Time passed until the thirtieth winter arrived. He eventually stopped keeping count out of sheer boredom. If compared to the time he had lived all along, he must be an old spirit—an eighty-five-year-old soul drifting from one body to another in a chaotic cycle.

    Then which body was real? Or were they all real? Or perhaps everything he had done was merely a dream? And why was this dream so long…? At this moment, whose consciousness did he truly possess? Kluay Khai’s? Kit’s? Or the bear’s...? As his mind began to wander aimlessly, coupled with the aging body of the great bear, his emotions grew irritable more frequently.

    Then came two thrilling encounters with humans. The first time, he won and survived. The second time was the last—when he met someone familiar... Brother Jason.

    It was undeniable proof that this was merely a dream—an experience from the great bear, transferred to him through an incredible, inexplicable means. The moment the great bear’s consciousness faded into darkness, Kit’s soul fell into a deep slumber, as if it were trying to relax after living such a long life.

    The little boy was completely unaware of how much trouble he had caused for those around him.

    Sister Anne’s scolding voice echoed so loudly in his ears that it hurt. His small body sluggishly burrowed into the bedding where the children slept together. The softness of the rabbit fur made the little one start rubbing his face against it with contentment. But before Kit could completely hide himself in the dark crevice of the bedding, he was caught.

    “Brother Kit! Brother Kit is awake, Mother.”

    (This voice...That...that rascal Ethan!) The young boy cursed internally, but his body still tried to snuggle deeper into the warm bedding. Before long, his older brother’s large hands grabbed him, gently pulling him out of bed. His drowsy eyes, having almost fully rested, had no choice but to open.

    “Good... morninggg.” Grooowl… His stomach let out a loud grumble right after greeting them.

    “Kit! You made all of us worried. Why do you always act so recklessly without thinking?” Sister Anne’s stern voice continued to boom. “I told you to handle the bear carcass properly. I didn’t mean for you…a tiny little kid to butcher it into pieces like that.”

    “Well...well, Sister told me to take Brother James with me...so I...I thought...” The little one stammered, as if trying to defend himself. At that time, he really did think Sister had ordered it that way.

    “The blood of crescent moon bears and large forest beasts serves as a tonic for adults. But for a child like you, it’s an entirely different matter...” Sister Lisa opened an old book he had never read before, showing him the contents. “You’ve been asleep for three whole days!”

    The little boy could only bow his head in apology. Only then did the two elders soften their stern expressions. Sister Anne continued to lecture him for a while longer until Kit’s small stomach could no longer bear it. When it rumbled for the third time, Sister Anne left to bring the meal they had prepared for him.

    Even before the food entered the bedroom, his tiny nose could already catch the scent of grain porridge boiled with garlic and mushrooms. The lingering smell of urine from the younger children mixed with feces—scents he had already grown accustomed to. The scent of straw and dried grass outside. The scent of pine from the forest, carried in by the cold wind. The scent of his siblings and the two nuns. The slightly musty scent of his own body. And most importantly... the scent of Jason, who was chopping pine logs outside for firewood.

    With each breath Kit took, the little boy’s mouth fell open in shock. His heightened sense of smell—so acute and vivid—was strikingly similar to the thirty-plus years he had just spent in his dream. His heart pounded with a mix of delight and excitement.

    A special power! Something he had always longed to experience since waking up in this second world. Now, he finally had it. The divine nose—capable of sniffing out the musky scent of his siblings, detecting food, inhaling the aroma of the forest and the cool embrace of nature, and also...the stench of filth, garbage, and all kinds of waste...Was this some kind of cruel joke?

    The delighted smile on his face quickly turned into a frown as his imagination, once filled with excitement, took a nosedive into despair. The rotting smells of this world were an ordinary, everyday occurrence that no one seemed to care about.

    It seemed...his life’s goals now had to include another item: ‘Make the town cleaner.’

    He would become a farmer. And he would help make the town a better place to live.

    As he devoured his meal hungrily, the plans in his mind began to branch out like a growing tree. Agriculture and livestock had always gone hand in hand. If plants could use waste as fertilizer, then why couldn’t human excrement be used the same way? A vivid image formed in the child’s mind—of a vast garden, meticulously arranged with various plants, flourishing beautifully after being enriched with a special compost formula.

    The town would become cleaner, filled with the fresh fragrance of flowers and greenery instead of the stench of waste. Public health would improve. The harvest would be abundant, ensuring no one went hungry again. The mere thought of this grand plan made Kit smile. If it became reality, just how amazing would it be?

    His imagination drifted for quite some time before coming to a halt when the last spoonful of thick porridge disappeared into his stomach, leaving him full. His thoughts turned to his unofficial older brother, who was sweating profusely while chopping firewood. The scent of Jason’s body carried by the wind made the little boy wrinkle his nose and sniff in disapproval.

    As soon as he thought about Jason, he suddenly remembered the rash decision he had made—taking liberties with the large prey that the young hunter had nearly risked his life for. Kit’s face turned pale for a moment. Then, the small boy hurriedly turned to ask his sister, Anna.

    “Anna, is Brother Jason angry that I skinned his bear without permission? What... what should I do?”

    “Calm down, little brother. Hehehe.” She instinctively reached out to wipe the food off the little boy’s mouth, though he resisted slightly as usual. “He wouldn’t stop praising you. That hide was skinned so perfectly that it’s flawless. All that’s left is to soften it, and then Brother Jason will use it to make a new cloak for himself…”

    “He even gave us all the meat and internal organs. The only important thing he kept were a single fang and claw. He said the rest would be for you and James. The younger ones were thrilled.”

    “A fang and a claw...?” Kit was puzzled. The real treasures from that bear should be its fat, meat, and nutrient-rich internal organs. Seeing his familiar expression of confusion, Anna naturally continued explaining.

    “That’s right. Those things are incredibly useful. They’re as hard and tough as metal. Mother Anne could barely contain her excitement. I heard that the blessing of the God of Craftsmanship gave her many visions about creating useful tools from them…”

    It was unbelievable how the blessing of the God of Craftsmanship was even more beneficial to people’s lives than they had imagined.

    Before long...The church in Redwood Village would likely have many convenient new tools for everyone to admire.

    Little Kit could hardly wait. He didn’t forget to tell the nuns that he wanted a knife that fit comfortably in his hand—so he could cook and forage more efficiently than before.