Sam woke up absolutely livid. Anyone would've blown a fuse if they were walking down the street minding their own business and got clobbered square on the forehead by a flying brick.
And to make things worse, the first thing he saw when he came to wasn't a hospital ceiling—it was the rough bark of a tree branch as thick as a water bucket, dangling more than sixty feet above the ground. The leaves overhead were so dense they blotted out the entire sky.
The forest around him was lush beyond anything he'd ever seen. Those "primeval forests" he'd watched on TV were nothing but sad little groves compared to this.
He clung to the branch for dear life, too terrified to move a muscle, his body trembling with tension. Sixty feet up—one wrong move and he'd be crippled, if not dead on impact.
"Hello?! Is anyone there?!"
*Whirrrrr—whirrrrr*
At the sound of his voice, Sam whipped his head around. Dozens of birds took flight, startled by the noise… but no human voice answered back.
He stared at the creatures soaring overhead, his eyes widening in disbelief.
Birds? These things were massive—and he couldn't recall a single species that matched what he was seeing.
Every last one of them dwarfed the largest birds of prey he'd ever heard of. They looked strong enough to scoop him up like a ragdoll without breaking a sweat.
Their talons were razor-sharp, their beaks curved like scimitars. Sam had zero doubt that if any of them decided to attack, he'd be a goner in seconds.
With that thought, he shrank closer to the tree trunk, letting the leaves and branches hide him as much as possible.
No way was he yelling for help again. That one shout alone had roused a bunch of these bird-like things that could've turned him into a snack. If he called out a few more times, he might not scare off any beasts—instead, he'd attract something even bigger and badder, looking for an easy buffet. The thought made his eyes sting with helpless tears.
Sam pressed his lips together, propped himself up against the trunk, and sat perched on the branch, forcing himself to stay calm and think through what the hell was going on.
He'd been knocked out cold by a brick. He should've woken up in a hospital bed—or at least his own bed—not dangling from a tree in the middle of nowhere.
What was this? Some kind of sick prank? It wasn't funny. Not one bit.
He frowned, a flicker of panic crossing his face as he glanced at the impossibly tall trees and the alien-looking birds.
He was a kid of the internet, after all—he'd binged enough isekai novels to fill a bookshelf.
This… this had to be a transmigration, didn't it?
Sam thought with a bitter chuckle.
But dwelling on it wouldn't get him anywhere. He couldn't stay stuck up this tree forever. First order of business: get down safely.
He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to shake off the dread, then suddenly froze—his hand shot up to his forehead.
No wound. Not even a hint of a bruise or a headache. That was impossible. He'd taken a brick straight to the skull—there should've been *something*.
He closed his eyes, smiling bitterly. Yep. Definitely a transmigration.
If that was the case… Sam glanced down at the ground far below. Sixty feet up, and no one to help him but himself.
He wrapped both hands tightly around the branch, carefully shifted his legs, and turned to face the trunk.
The tree was thick, its bark gnarled and rough, with vines as thick as his wrist hanging down everywhere.
He craned his neck upward. The tree stretched endlessly into the sky, its leaves and branches weaving a dense canopy that hid the top from view. But he could tell he was on one of the lower branches.
He reached out, grabbed a vine, and rubbed it against a sharp protrusion on the trunk. To his surprise, it was incredibly tough—only a faint scratch marred its surface, no tear to be seen.
He swallowed hard, then picked out the thickest, sturdiest vine he could find.
He checked its length, looped it securely around the branch, and tied a rock-solid knot, making sure it was long enough to let him reach the ground safely. Then, gripping the vine tightly with one hand, he slowly began to lower himself down from the branch.
He hadn't gotten more than a few feet when the leaves below him suddenly rustled loudly.
Something was there!
Sam tensed up instantly, his eyes locked on the foliage beneath him. The leaves were too dense to see clearly, but through a gap, he could make out a large black shape moving upward fast—straight toward him.
What was it? He stared, transfixed.
In seconds, the thing was right below him. The leaves parted, and a massive feline head emerged into view.
"AAAAAHHHH!!"
Sam's eyes went wide as saucers.
He tightened his grip on the vine, scrambling upward on pure instinct, desperate to put distance between himself and the beast—completely forgetting he was sixty feet off the ground.
A shadow fell over him. The beast's enormous claws sank into the tree trunk on either side of him. Its hot breath ruffled the hair at the nape of his neck and slipped down his collar.
He was trapped.
Every hair on his body stood on end. Was he really going to die the second he transmigrated? He whipped his head around to face the beast, needing to know what was about to kill him.
A black panther! Sam stared, his gaze glued to the creature.
Its massive head kept moving closer, its warm breath fanning his face—he could even feel its whiskers brushing against his skin.
Every fiber of his being screamed danger. Run. But there was nowhere to go.
Sam closed his eyes, resigned to his fate, waiting for the searing pain of being torn apart.
But the pain never came. The panther didn't leave, either—instead, it sniffed at his neck, then nudged at the back of his shirt collar.
The tug wasn't rough, but it was enough to make Sam's grip on the tree's protrusions slip. He opened his eyes, flailing instinctively, and wrapped all four limbs around the vine.
"Can you let go of the vine? I can't carry you down if you're clinging to it like that."
A clear, youthful voice rang out beside his ear—sounding like a kid not much older than him. A *human* voice!
Sam's eyes lit up. He looked up toward the sound… and came face to face with the panther's eyes.
His hands slipped. He almost lost his grip on the vine and plummeted to the ground, but the panther quickly lifted a paw and placed it gently under his feet, steadying him. Sam stared at the panther in amazement.
"Hey! Are you even listening to me?"
The voice came again—this time, clearly from the panther's moving jaws. Sam's lips parted.
"…You're a monster…"
"A monster? What's that?" The panther tilted its head, its emerald-green eyes flickering with confusion.
Miraculously, Sam understood the expression on its face.
But the fact that it could talk made him relax a little—he wasn't facing a mindless beast anymore. At least now he had a fighting chance… right?
Before he could figure out how to respond, the panther spoke again.
"Let go of the vine, please. It's too dangerous for you to stay up this high." It nudged his foot with its paw, gently urging him to let go.
Sam snapped out of his daze, bit his lip, then nodded firmly. Whatever the case, he needed to get down first.
"Alright. I'm counting on you."
The panther rumbled in acknowledgment, then nuzzled his body, turning him around so his back was to its chest. Then he felt it grab the back of his shirt collar in its jaws.
Wind whistled past his ears as his body lifted off the vine, bouncing slightly with the panther's movements as it descended the tree.
The panther moved surprisingly fast, and in the blink of an eye, Sam felt his feet touch solid ground. When he finally stood on the earth again, tears pricked at his eyes.
"What tribe do you belong to, little sub-beast? Why are you alone in the forest? Where are your tribe's beastmen?"
The three questions hit Sam like a ton of bricks, leaving him completely dumbfounded. Tribe? Beastmen? Sub-beast? What the hell was he talking about? Beastmen shall never be slaves?
The panther tilted its head when Sam didn't answer, padding closer to him. Sam took a step back instinctively—even though they could communicate, he still couldn't get used to the sight of a panther the size of a truck talking to him.
"I don't have a tribe. I… I don't know why I'm here alone in the forest."
Sam glanced at the panther. It was sitting upright in front of him, its long tail draped lazily over the ground, its tip flicking back and forth every now and then. As someone who'd spent hours scrolling through cat videos online, he could tell the panther was in a good mood.
He took a closer look at it. Its fur was pure black—no hints of spots or color variation, unlike the black panthers he'd seen in documentaries.
It was *huge*—even sitting down, it stood over twelve feet tall. Its coat was sleek and glossy, like the finest black silk, and when sunlight filtered through the leaves and hit it, the fur shimmered with a faint golden glow.
Its eyes were a deep emerald green, and when they locked onto his, Sam felt a primal shiver run down his spine—as if he was being hunted. But right now, its eyes were half-closed in the sunlight, and its tail was flicking playfully, making it look almost like a harmless oversized house cat.
But Sam knew better. This wasn't a cat. The sharp claws sheathed in its paw pads, the well-defined muscles under its sleek fur, and the sharp fangs it occasionally bared when it spoke all screamed *deadly predator*.
"No tribe?" The panther's voice softened, and suddenly, its eyes were filled with sympathy.
"My name is Xuan. What's yours?" It lowered its head, as if trying not to intimidate him, its voice gentler than before.
"Sam." He didn't understand why the panther looked so sorry for him, but he wasn't about to complain. If he could gain this panther's protection in this strange forest, his chances of survival would skyrocket.
"Sam… three syllables. A little odd, but it suits you. Would you like to join my tribe?" Xuan looked at him earnestly.
"My tribe is great. Our beastmen are strong, and we don't have many sub-beasts—each one is kind and good at gathering. If you come with me, you can join the gathering team, work with the other sub-beasts, and live with us. We'll be your new family. You'll never be alone again."
When talking about its tribe, Xuan's voice rose with pride, and its tail flicked back and forth even faster. It clearly loved its tribe deeply.
Sam was completely lost, but he could feel the sincerity in Xuan's words.
Beastmen, he got—the panther in front of him was obviously one. But sub-beast? From the sound of it, Xuan thought *he* was a sub-beast.
But he didn't dare ask for clarification. In a primitive-sounding place like a "tribe," admitting he had no idea what they were talking about might get him labeled as an outsider—or worse, burned at the stake as a witch.
"Can… can I check it out first? I don't have a tribe, so…"
He trailed off, hanging his head so Xuan wouldn't see the guilt on his face.
He'd noticed how sympathetic Xuan had looked when he heard he had no tribe—probably assuming he'd been exiled or something.
Sam clenched his fists. He was in a strange world, with no clue what was going on. The only thing that mattered right now was surviving.
He pushed the twinge of guilt aside. It wasn't a total lie, anyway—he *had* been through something terrible. Getting hit by a brick and waking up in another world was pretty damn traumatic.
But his dejected posture only made Xuan feel more sorry for him. The panther stood up, pacing back and forth awkwardly, clearly wanting to comfort him but not knowing how.
It circled him a few times, then blurted out the line all beastmen used to soothe sub-beasts.
"Are you hungry? I'll go hunt something for you."
*Gurgle—*
Xuan's voice was drowned out by the loud rumble of Sam's stomach. Sam scratched his head, his cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.
He'd been trying to look pitiful, and then his stomach had to go and ruin it by growling loud enough for the whole forest to hear. Sure, it made him look even more pathetic, but still—it was embarrassing.
"I'll take you to a safe place first. Stay there and don't move. I'll be right back after I catch us some prey."
With that, Xuan leaned down, preparing to pick him up by the collar again. Sam quickly stepped back, waving his hands.
"Can you not carry me by the collar? It chokes me."
Xuan was being nice, but they'd just met—Sam wasn't brave enough to ask if he could ride on its back.
But being carried by the collar on the way down the tree had felt like he was seconds away from suffocating.
Xuan tilted its head, looking even more like a harmless giant cat, no trace of annoyance on its face.
"Then how should I carry you? You can't keep up with my speed on foot."
Sam glanced around, then down at himself, tugging at different parts of his shirt. Finally, he grabbed a handful of fabric at the small of his back, turned around, and faced away from Xuan.
"Can you carry me by this part instead?"
No sooner had he spoken than he felt Xuan nudge his hand with its nose. He let go, and the next thing he knew, his shirt was being lifted gently, and his body was off the ground again. It was still a little uncomfortable, but *way* better than being choked by the collar.
Xuan waited until he'd adjusted his posture, then rumbled a low warning in its throat—Sam understood it meant they were about to leave.
"I'm ready."
As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt himself shoot forward like a bolt of lightning. The trees around them blurred into streaks of green as Xuan sprinted through the forest at breakneck speed.