The sun was dipping low by the time Ren reached the edge of the village. The old cart creaked under its weight, but he didn't mind—the sound was oddly comforting. Each step on the dirt path stirred memories of hunger and struggle, but this time… he returned not empty-handed, but with hope.
Children playing in the distance paused and stared at the mountain of materials piled behind him. Some recognized him and whispered quietly. "Isn't that Ren? The orphan from the outskirts?""He's pulling all that by himself?"
Ren ignored the murmurs and continued straight toward his broken hut at the far end of the settlement. As he approached, seven small figures came running out from behind the crooked fence—barefoot, eyes wide.
"Brother Ren!" Mira cried, her voice breaking."You're back!" shouted Toma and Elri in unison.
They rushed him, wrapping their tiny arms around his legs before he could even set the cart down. Ren laughed softly, a rare sound that seemed to ease the tension in all of them. He knelt, resting a hand on each of their heads.
"See? I promised I'd come back before nightfall."
Their eyes gleamed when they saw what he had brought—bundles of herbs, fruits, wood, and a large bag filled with meat.
"Is that… food?" Nia whispered, clutching her little brother's sleeve.
Ren nodded, smiling. "Enough for all of us. And more for tomorrow."
The next few hours became a blur of movement. Using his newly enhanced Forestry Lv.5 skill, Ren worked with quiet precision—reinforcing the walls of the hut with sturdy branches, sealing gaps with bark and moss, and using vines to bind the framework. The skill's mana sensitivity allowed him to instinctively choose the right material for each task.
[Skill: Forestry Lv.5 in use – Resource Appraisal Activated]
Even without tools, his hands moved as if guided by invisible plans. The children watched in awe as their once-collapsing hut slowly transformed into a stable, warmer shelter.
When the last plank was set, he started a small fire outside, roasting slices of boar meat and mixing herbs into the broth from forest roots and fruits. The rich, savory scent filled the air.
Their eyes followed the flames, their small faces glowing with anticipation.
Ren handed out wooden bowls he'd carved hastily from bark earlier. "Eat slowly," he said gently. "We'll have enough for seconds tomorrow."
The first bite brought silence—then tears. Mira sniffled, hiding her face as she ate, while little Lani giggled with a mouth full of food.
Ren leaned back, watching them quietly. In his previous life, he had eaten countless meals, but never one that felt this meaningful. These children weren't his by blood, but their happiness now fed a part of his soul he didn't know he'd been starving.
After making sure the children were full and safe for the night, Ren lifted the bag of remaining meat and fur. The moon had just begun to rise when he made his way back to Ralt's farmhouse.
The old farmer was still awake, repairing a fence by lamplight. He looked up as Ren approached.
"Well, look at that. You actually made it back."
Ren grinned faintly, placing a wrapped bundle on the wooden table outside. "As promised. Half of the meat from today's hunt. Fresh and safe."
Ralt's eyebrows rose. He opened the wrap and whistled. "Forest Tusker meat? You took down one of those things?"
"Got lucky," Ren said simply.
Ralt chuckled. "Luck or not, that's no small feat. You've got guts, boy." He grabbed a knife and tested the meat's texture. "This'll sell well in town if cured right."
Ren hesitated for a moment before asking, "Do you know where I could sell the fur? I need coin for salt, cloth, and some tools. The kids need clothes, and I can't patch everything with leaves forever."
Ralt rubbed his chin. "Hmm… closest would be Taren's Workshop, near the market road. He deals in furs and leathers. Tell him Ralt sent you—he won't cheat you too much."
Ren smiled. "Thank you. I'll head there tomorrow."
"Take care, lad," the old farmer said, his voice softening. "You've changed. Keep going that way, and you might just make a life worth living out here."
Ren nodded, turning to leave. The night wind brushed past him, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers and smoke. Behind him, the stars shimmered across the sky—quiet witnesses to the small victory of a man learning how to live again.
When he reached home, the children were already asleep, huddled together under the repaired roof. The small fire flickered faintly, warm and steady.
Ren sat beside it, his tired body finally relaxing. He glanced at the faint glow of the BROTHER system in his vision.
[Status Updated]
Name: Ren
Level: 4
EXP: 50 / 400
Strength: 10
Endurance: 10
Agility: 9
Intelligence: 6
Vitality: 11
Skills: Forestry Lv.5 | Skinning Lv.1
He smiled faintly at the screen before it faded from view. "We're getting there… one day at a time."
With that whisper, Ren closed his eyes—no longer haunted by the silence of his old world, but comforted by the soft breathing of seven little lives depending on him.
Morning sunlight filtered through the cracks in the repaired roof, casting faint golden lines across the hut's floor. Ren stirred quietly, careful not to wake the sleeping children. Their faces looked peaceful, full for the first time in days. That alone made the soreness in his arms feel worth it.
He stood, washed his face in a wooden bowl by the door, and looked outside. The forest breeze carried the smell of damp grass, and the distant sounds of the village waking filled the air — livestock bleating, chatter, and carts rolling down the dirt road.
Ren slung a rolled bundle of Forest Tusker fur over his shoulder. It was heavy, coarse, and faintly magical. With it, he could finally start earning coin — something this family hadn't seen in weeks.
He glanced at the still-sleeping Mira. "I'll be back by noon," he whispered softly. "Take care of them until then."
Then, he began his walk to the village center.
The Taren's Workshop wasn't hard to find. It sat on the main trade road, a sturdy stone-and-wood building with cured hides hanging from racks and the smell of tanned leather in the air. A few apprentices worked outside, scraping fur and stretching skins over wooden frames.
Ren hesitated briefly before stepping inside.
The interior was busier — leather rolls stacked to the ceiling, tools clinking, and the rhythmic sound of a hammer shaping armor pieces. Behind a counter cluttered with scales and parchment sat a middle-aged man with sharp eyes and rolled-up sleeves.
"Customer?" the man called without looking up. "If it's damaged hide, I'm not paying full price."
Ren placed the bundle on the counter. "It's Forest Tusker fur. Cleanly skinned yesterday."
The man's head snapped up. His eyes widened, flicking between Ren and the bundle. "Forest Tusker? You're telling me a kid your size took down one of those beasts?"
Ren shrugged slightly. "Got lucky. It was already wounded. Ralt sent me."
That name seemed to do something. The man's suspicion faded, replaced with mild respect. "Ralt, huh? That old badger still owes me three sacks of grain." He chuckled and untied the bundle, inspecting the fur closely. "Hmm. Not bad work. Hardly a cut on the hide. You skin this yourself?"
"Yes."
"Clean hands, steady lines… You've got a knack for it. Not common around here."
He weighed the fur on a large brass scale, jotting notes on parchment. "Alright. Full Forest Tusker hide, top condition… I can give you eight silvers. Fair price, considering the market's dry this week."
Ren nodded. "I'll take it."
The man—Taren, clearly the owner—counted the coins into a small pouch and slid it across the counter. Ren took it carefully, the faint clink of metal feeling heavier than it should. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
"Eight silvers for a few hours' work," he thought. "Not bad."
But he didn't leave right away.
"Taren," Ren said after a pause, "do you know if there's a guild in this village? I'm… thinking of registering as an adventurer."
The workshop master leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. "Ambitious, aren't you? You look barely older than a stablehand."
Ren met his gaze. "I can handle myself. I just need a place to start."
Taren scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, this isn't exactly a city, but yes — there's a sub-branch of the Adventurer's Guild here. Mostly farmers, trappers, and small-time hunters who register to get bounties or escort work. It's run by a woman named Kara. She's tough, but fair."
He paused, then added with a smirk, "If you're planning to join, don't show up looking like you just crawled out of the woods. The guild takes first impressions seriously."
Ren gave a small laugh. "Noted."
Taren's tone softened slightly. "You're Ralt's kid, aren't you? Or his helper?"
Ren shook his head. "No. Just someone he lent a handcart to."
"Hmm." The man studied him again — the quiet determination in his voice, the lean strength in his posture. "You've got the look of someone trying to stand back up after falling hard. I respect that. If you plan to work as an adventurer, bring any rare furs or hides you find to me first. I'll give you a fair rate."
Ren nodded gratefully. "I'll remember that."
As he stepped out of the shop, the morning sun greeted him again, warm against his skin. The sound of hammers and chatter behind him faded into the bustle of the village street. He opened his palm slightly, looking at the few silver coins glinting there.
They weren't much, but they meant progress — food for the children, repairs for the hut, maybe even better tools.
And soon… a guild card.
The BROTHER system flickered faintly at the edge of his vision, its familiar silent glow accompanying him down the road.
[System Note: Objective path unlocked – Survival Tier: Stable. New opportunity detected.]
Ren smiled faintly. "Guess that's your way of saying 'keep going,' huh?"
He turned toward the western end of the village — where the Adventurer's Guild sub-branch awaited. For the first time since being reborn, he wasn't just surviving. He was building a future.