One piece: Without a system, I have to survive!

The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows on the trees around my camp. The scent of roasted meat still lingered in the air, mixing with the damp earth and the wild, untamed scent of the jungle.

I sat with my back against a tree, chewing on the last of my meal. The wolf, curled up a few feet away, had already finished eating, its golden eyes half-closed in rest.

For the first time since arriving in this world, I felt a sense of accomplishment.

Water. Food. Fire.

I was surviving.

But deep down, I knew this was only the beginning.

A Primal Instinct

A sudden snap of a branch made my body go rigid.

My hand tightened around my club as my eyes darted toward the darkness beyond the firelight. The wolf's ears perked up, its body tensing.

We weren't alone.

I slowly rose to my feet, heart hammering in my chest. My eyes scanned the jungle, trying to pierce through the shadows.

Then—movement.

A pair of glowing red eyes appeared between the trees.

Then another.

And another.

Shit.

Low growls rumbled through the air as the creatures emerged into the fire's glow—jungle hounds.

Three of them.

Lean, muscular bodies covered in dark fur. Sharp claws digging into the dirt. Their fangs glistened with saliva as they slowly circled the camp.

Predators.

And they had caught the scent of our meal.

Fight or Flight

The wolf beside me let out a deep, warning growl. Its golden eyes locked onto the approaching hounds, muscles coiling, ready to fight.

I gritted my teeth. Running wasn't an option—the jungle was too dense, and I wasn't fast enough.

I had to stand my ground.

One of the hounds lunged first—

The wolf met it head-on.

The two beasts collided in a blur of fur and fangs, snarling and snapping at each other.

Another hound came for me.

No time to think.

I swung my club—hard.

The wood slammed into its ribs with a sickening crack. The hound yelped, stumbling back—but the third one took its place, rushing me with bared fangs.

Dodge!

I barely managed to sidestep as its jaws snapped inches from my arm.

It was fast—too fast.

It turned on me in an instant, eyes burning with hunger.

My heart pounded.

I was not going to die here.

The Turning Point

As the hound lunged again, I shifted my weight—and kicked up a burning ember from the fire.

The glowing coal flew straight into its face.

The hound let out a pained yelp, stumbling back as the ember singed its snout.

That was my chance.

I roared and swung my club again—this time, aiming for the head.

CRACK!

The hound collapsed, twitching once before going still.

One down.

I turned, breathless, just in time to see the wolf rip out the throat of the first hound. Blood sprayed across the dirt as its lifeless body fell to the ground.

Only one left.

The last hound, seeing its packmates dead, hesitated. Its red eyes flicked between us, weighing its options.

Then, with a final growl, it turned and fled into the jungle.

Silence fell over the camp.

I stood there, chest heaving, my hands trembling around my weapon. The scent of blood filled the air.

The wolf panted beside me, blood dripping from its muzzle.

We had survived.

Again.

But as I stared into the darkness, heart still racing, one thought remained in my mind—

This jungle was more dangerous than I had imagined.

And I had a feeling…

This was only the beginning.