The early dawn wind bit at Honu's bare scalp as he crept along the courtyard wall like a fugitive monk on a holy mission. His tiny feet slapped softly against the moss-covered stones, and he darted glances left and right like a cartoon thief escaping the scene of a crime. The monastery loomed behind him in all its tranquil glory—stone towers, flapping prayer flags, and monks snoring in peaceful ignorance—while he tiptoed toward the tree line with the grace of a frog in socks.
"Alright," he whispered dramatically once he was under the shadow of the pines, "if this world has a system, this is your cue, buddy. Show up and do your job."
He threw his arms open to the sky, waiting for some majestic holographic screen to pop up with fanfare and neon lights. Nothing. Just a crow squawking in the distance.
"...Seriously?" Honu patted himself down—chest, pockets, sleeves, even his bald head—hoping that somewhere, some hidden start button might exist. Nothing but the faint slap slap slap of his hands on his tiny frame.
"C'mon, don't make me hate you, bro," he muttered, jabbing the air like a gamer trying to reload a broken controller.
He squinted, eyes darting left and right. The forest whispered around him—the wind in the leaves, the distant dripping of dew, and then—
Scrunch… scrunch…
The sound was faint, rhythmic, and suspiciously greasy. Honu froze, every muscle on alert. Slowly, he crept toward the noise, parting the ferns and peeking through.
Up in a tree, perched on a thick branch like a fat squirrel, was an old monk with the build of a retired wrestler—broad shoulders, thick forearms, and a robe that seemed one movement away from ripping apart. He was chewing something, loud and satisfied.
Honu's eyes narrowed. "...Is that chicken?"
The monk froze mid-bite, eyes meeting Honu's below.
"..."
"..."
The silence stretched until the monk, with an unconvincing cough, slid the chicken leg up his sleeve as if it didn't even exist. "What chicken?" he said flatly, glancing away as if the forest might vouch for him.
"Cut the crap, old man," Honu deadpanned. "You're not supposed to be eating meat. Isn't that, like, the first rule?"
The monk's belly rumbled as he chuckled. "Why are you out here, boy? Causing trouble again?" He hopped down effortlessly, landing with the grace of someone half his size and flicked Honu's forehead.
"Hey—ow! That hurt!" Honu rubbed the spot and pouted, but then—something pinged.
A bright, blue screen flickered to life above the monk's head.
[ Elder Sama ]
"Ha!" Honu pointed excitedly. "There it is!"
Sama blinked and looked up. "What?"
"Right. You can't see it." Honu clapped his hands. "Of course you can't."
The old monk's brows furrowed. "Have you lost your marbles after the punishment? And why aren't you bowing?" He grabbed Honu's bald head, squishing his cheeks together until his lips puckered like a fish.
"Okay, okay! Elder Sama, I apologize!" Honu squeaked. He stumbled back, rubbing his scalp again. "Man, rubbing my baldness is becoming a habit now."
Sama crossed his arms. "Why are you awake so early? You usually sleep till the sun is hot enough to cook your lazy bones. Your senior brothers complain about it daily."
"Why are you eating chicken?" Honu shot back.
Sama coughed again into his fist, then, with remarkable hypocrisy, offered him the leftover drumstick. "Want some?"
Honu's stomach growled in betrayal. "...You drive a hard bargain, Elder." He snatched it, biting in with the vigor of a starving bandit.
Sama chuckled deeply. "Good. You're my accomplice now."
Honu raised his tiny fist for a fist bump, but Sama just stared at it, confused. "Never mind," Honu sighed, chewing the last bit of meat off the bone before Sama tossed it into the bushes like a guilty offering.
"Come," Sama said, turning. "Your training starts now."
A new message blinked infront Honu:
[ Follow Elder Sama ]
Honu squinted. "Could you at least give me context, system? Like, what am I supposed to do here?"
[ Chill. I'll fill you in time. ]
He groaned and jogged to catch up, nearly tripping over his own robes. The elder's muscles flexed under his sleeves as he walked—each stride powerful and sure. "Are you really a monk?" Honu blurted.
"What do you think?" Sama arched a brow.
"I think you're a scammer in robes."
Sama laughed. "You may be right."
As they crossed into a clearing, the sun climbed higher, scattering gold through the trees. Honu's small feet padded after the monk. "Elder… can you tell me about me? I mean, who am I exactly?"
Sama glanced at him with a hint of nostalgia. "You were found in the eastern forest as an infant. Alone. Almost eaten by a beast when I found you."
Honu grimaced. "Shit... Even in this life, I'm unwanted."
SMACK
"Language."
"Sorry," Honu muttered, rubbing his head again.
Sama's eyes softened. "I took you in. Ever since you could walk, you've been nothing but trouble. But I see potential in you, Honu. I want you to grow. To choose the good path."
Honu's chest tightened at the warmth in the man's tone. He wasn't used to that—a fatherly voice. He looked away quickly. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
Then—
SCREEEEEEEE!!!
The sound was so loud it made the trees tremble. Honu clutched his ears. "WHAT WAS THAT?!"
"Perfect timing!" Sama boomed with unnerving excitement.
"Timing for what?!"
Before Honu could run, the monk grabbed him by the collar and threw him into the air.
"AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"
The world spun, his tiny arms flailing wildly. Below him, something massive slithered through the undergrowth—a snake the size of a school bus, scales glinting like dark steel. It opened its jaws wide, venom dripping in strings that sizzled on the grass.
Sama leapt up and caught Honu mid-air, only to throw him again like a skipping stone.
"This is your training for today!" the elder shouted, landing beside the serpent.
"WHAT KIND OF CHILD LABOR IS THIS?!" Honu screamed. "I'M TEN! TEN!"
"Focus!" Sama barked, eyes narrowing at the beast. "Tell me its weakness!"
"I—I don't know! The heart?" Honu squeaked.
"Wrong!" Sama twisted aside as the snake lunged. "Earth serpents have two hearts. They shift along the belly. Difficult to kill that way."
Honu clung to a branch, legs kicking wildly. "Then cut off its head!"
Sama smirked. "Do you see a sword?"
"I don't know! Use a twig! A leaf! Like in the movies!"
The snake roared—if snakes could roar—and slithered up the trunk toward Honu, its massive tongue flicking inches from his face.
"Watch carefully, boy," Sama said, voice low now, almost calm. "No more playing after this."
He leapt from the ground with the power of a launched cannonball, palms pressed together in prayer.
"...Amitabha."
The moment his hand met the snake's head, a burst of golden light exploded between them. The beast convulsed, scales shattering like glass under divine pressure. Its body coiled once, twice, before dissolving into mist that drifted away on the wind.
Honu clung to the branch, mouth hanging open. "How—how did you do that?!"
Sama brushed imaginary dust from his sleeve. "With patience, discipline, and faith, my boy."
Honu blinked, still gaping. "And... years of skipping leg day, apparently."
Sama chuckled, eyes crinkling. "Tomorrow, you'll learn to stand still in the same pose for six hours."
Honu groaned. "Maybe I was better off in the snake's mouth."
Somewhere above his head, the system chimed faintly:
[ Quest Completed: Don't Die in Your First Ten Minutes ]
Reward: +1 Bald Wisdom. ]
😆]
"Great," Honu muttered. "At least I'm leveling up in suffering."