145

As a result of spending almost that entire day exploring, the only things I’d gotten were the following.

A broken alarm

A high-end pocket watch with a small gemstone inside

Sundries

To put it plainly, I hadn’t found anything worth a damn.

If I’d gotten even a shred of useful information, it would’ve been different, but I hadn’t found a single point where power was usable—let alone an intact place that hadn’t already been ransacked.

For the record, “sundries” mostly meant consumables like pens and memo pads.

‘Yeah… too much time had passed. If it had been a hundred years instead of two hundred, there might’ve still been more left behind…’

Whining wouldn’t change anything, so I trudged back along a road littered with orc corpses.

Last, I checked that the lockdown on the room where electricity was still usable was functioning properly, and then I set out.

In the end, by the time I left the theme park, night had completely given way to morning, and I had to secure breakfast—and a place where I could use fire.

The fact that I’d gotten this late because I’d forgotten to adjust the watch’s time, then wandered around because I couldn’t find my way, was downright pathetic.

The current time was 8:30—I closed the pocket watch’s lid carefully and stowed it in my backpack.

As I headed southwest through the forest, thinking about what to do for breakfast, something that caught my eye came into view.

“…Huh? What’s this?”

An artificial object that nature had reclaimed made me blurt it out.

Curious, I checked the thing half-buried in plants and realized it was a vehicle that had likely been abandoned.

I couldn’t tell whether it had been military or not—the original shape was almost completely gone—but the remaining frame was unmistakably that of a car.

Which meant this must have been a road or something like it.

I put a hand to the ground and examined the area for a while… and then I found what I was looking for.

Shattered asphalt—and its fragments.

And the remnants of structures swallowed by nature showed that people had once lived here.

‘From the position and width… a highway? If I’m this unfamiliar with the geography on the west side, it won’t help me pin down where I am.’

For now, I scratched an X-mark into some random structure with my claws so it’d be obvious this was a discovered point.

If I marked unclear points like this in a visible spot, it might come in handy someday.

I didn’t know what it’d be handy for, but if I planted a flag like this, there ought to be a chance it’d connect to something.

As I kept moving west, west, west, the distribution of green I could see through gaps in the trees suddenly changed.

As I approached the mountains, I could gradually feel the slope, and the ecosystem would probably change too before long.

Even through the gaps in the trees I still couldn’t look up and see it, but this was a mountain region with elevations topping 3,000 meters at most.

I didn’t need to go all the way to the summit, but enjoying the view looking down from somewhere along the way wouldn’t be bad either.

Mainly because of the information value—getting a grasp of the terrain.

Who in their right mind would want to stare at endless green wilderness day after day, even if the location changed?

The sun was still high, so I didn’t have to rush, but it was better to have time to spare.

So I picked up my pace more than usual and ran up the nature-rich mountain path—until I finally confirmed a slope that deserved to be called a slope.

Rock faces gradually started to show, and it started to feel like a real mountain.

So that was how I passed the foot of the mountain and found myself in the middle of climbing.

When I looked back, I could see the forest, but I still didn’t have enough altitude to take in a wide view.

I climbed while searching for signs, thinking, “Isn’t there any mountain-like creature around?” but unfortunately, even my nose and ears couldn’t pick up anything.

Either they were too small for me to notice, or there weren’t any… or maybe my sensing ability just couldn’t find them, but there weren’t many wild animals like that.

If anything was here, it was probably monsters.

For the record, how animals and monsters were distinguished differed by country.

For example, in the Empire, any “creature with a structure, ability, or traits that couldn’t be explained scientifically” was defined as a “monster.”

Apparently that led to many creatures being treated differently than in other countries, and I suspected that had been one cause of conflict too.

Between a neighbor who said “Coexisting with monsters is possible” and another neighbor who said “Monsters? Fine—kill them,” there was bound to be friction.

Anyway, with nothing particularly noteworthy, I kept climbing until the slope got a bit harsher.

“Well, I’m not following a proper mountain trail, so this is probably normal,” I said, and looked back.

I looked down at the green that filled the sky and earth without a hint of emotion.

I searched the scenery carefully, wondering if there was any sign of man-made objects—or what remained of them.

The first thing I found was the theme park’s outer wall from where I’d been just a little while ago, and the structures visible beyond it.

“Even from this height, I can still see it,” I muttered, but since I still didn’t have enough altitude, only a tiny portion was visible.

I considered climbing higher, but with this huge body, there was a risk the footing would collapse.

First, I’d survey the surroundings from here—and while I was at it, look for a route to climb.

I moved slowly and carefully, staring down at the forest and squinting for “anything.”

After repeating that for a while as I walked along the mountain slope that was starting to feel punishing, I spotted something that clearly didn’t belong.

And it wasn’t in the forest—it was on the mountain.

(…A marker? It looks pretty new.)

It was a wooden stake driven into the ground.

If it had been just a stick, I could’ve ignored it, but unfortunately there was a skull of some creature hooked on top, and the bone rattled in the wind.

I let out a sigh. “So there are barbarians on this mountain.”

I’d never heard of goblins or orcs having a custom like this.

Which meant it was some other creature—a monster—but unfortunately, nothing in my memory did something this tasteless.

When I got closer, the stake was bigger than I’d expected, and the skull on it was proportionally large too.

I’d heard of birds impaling prey on branches to store it, but there was no way this was a size birds could manage.

Judging from the skull, the owner of this head was likely a creature with a body over two meters tall.

“…For a territorial marker, it’s a bit too violent.”

And for a human to do it, it was primitive to the extreme.

It probably wasn’t something that had formed naturally, but I figured I should confirm it, so I brought my face close to the crude object.

Then, from some distance away, I heard a cry.

Right after that, I sensed the sound of something coming this way.

Looks like the maker of this thing was about to show up. I looked over, but because of the terrain, I couldn’t see them at all.

After waiting there for a bit, the thing appeared in a way that made me look up.

A creature that was incredibly close to humanoid, covered head to toe in fur—yeah, a monkey.

But it was huge.

Absurdly huge.

There was still some distance and I couldn’t see its whole body, so I couldn’t tell its exact size, but I couldn’t help thinking it might be bigger than me.

A monkey of utterly abnormal scale.

“KYIIEEEYAAAAAA!”

The monkey bared its fangs and roared at me.

So what, I scoffed.

Maybe it didn’t like my reaction, because the monkey shut its mouth and leapt down from higher ground.

And then—I saw something impossible.

I knew very well what it held in its hand when it landed.

While I was staring at it, the great ape raised the weapon overhead.

No speed, no technique—yet even that kind of blow still managed to graze my arm, because I was too slow to jump back.

I wiped the faint blood with my thumb and returned my gaze to the huge saber in the ape’s hand.

This wasn’t something I could dismiss as “similar”—the shape, and the material that could actually injure me.

“Hey, monkey. Why don’t you tell me where you got that?”

A special-alloy saber made for genetically enhanced soldiers—one exactly like mine.

Why was some giant ape I’d never seen before carrying it?

There was no verbal reply—only another downward swing of the blade.