Click(3): I Really Hate Rain
I really hate rain. I hated it even before I got dumped in this godforsaken place. When it rains, you can't see the clear sky, and the humidity goes through the roof. Especially during the rainy season—hot as hell, humidity off the charts, I thought I was gonna melt. If air conditioning hadn't been invented, I'd have turned into a puddle long ago.
Kwarung!!
"What a fucking shitty weather."
I spat curses while staring at the downpour that blocked out almost all visibility. I'd even prayed for the rain to stop, but what do I get? Instead of answering, the sky punched a hole in itself. This is why I hate gods. I like religious folks, just not the gods themselves.
Does it really hate me this much? Trying to screw me over?
If that's the case, it's pretty damn petty. I shook my head.
Anyway, the rain hadn't come in nearly a week, so I'd prepared thoroughly. Tarps over the oven and furnace to keep them dry, fish barrels moved into the cave. The traps in the river were a lost cause, sadly. The rain started at dawn. I woke up in a panic and scrambled to handle it.
I need to spot the signs of rain coming next time.
I had the general cycle down, but knowing the signs would let me prep even better. If I could use common sense from my old world, great—but this is the Four Seasons Forest. Normal logic doesn't apply. I need to learn the forest's own warning signs.
When's this gonna let up?
I gazed out at the torrent, lost in thought. No sign of stopping. This was way fiercer than last time. The river must be swelling huge. All sorts of sea critters would come flooding up with it.
Wonder what'll show this time? Not sharks, right?
Better stay on high alert for a while. I didn't want to get caught off guard like before.
I was blankly watching the endless rain when—
"Keheng!"
"Huh?"
A beast's cry pierced the roar of the rain. Wondering what was up, I peeked outside.
"Keheng!"
"Keng! Kyeng!"
"Jjik! Jjip!"
A horde of small-to-medium animals had gathered outside the cave. Raccoons—like the one Ppareumbo dismantled last time—rabbits, deer, wild boars, massive rats, and some I'd never seen before.
Why are these guys out there?
That's when the lead raccoon locked eyes with me.
"Keng! Keheng!"
"Jjipjjip?"
"Kkuik?"
"..."
This feels bad.
I cautiously barred the entrance. If those animals rushed in, it'd be chaos. And who knows what germs they might carry.
"Kekaek! Kekek!"
The raccoon pointed at me accusingly as I sealed the gate, protesting. Let's all eat well and live well! Why only you? Selfish bastard!
My response was simple: a casual middle finger. Animals might not get it, but it made me feel better.
Can't trust wild beasts.
Wonmo and Ppareumbo were exceptions, of course—cute and symbiotic. But these animals only had themselves to blame. Should've built shelters sooner.
Not that I can talk, stealing the original owner's pad.
No one was getting in this house. Come at me if you dare.
I snorted and reinforced the entrance. Maybe the raccoon had a plan, 'cause—
"Keheng!"
"Kkuiik!"
It smacked the wild boar's flank. The boar pawed the ground like it was about to charge.
Instinct screamed danger. That thing's charging.
Only one option: gear up heavy. They couldn't climb the bars anyway, so I'd siege them from range.
"Kkuiiiik!!!"
As I armed up, the boar charged at blinding speed. Forest beasts were no joke—monster-movie size and pace.
But I'd learned a key survival rule here: range is king. Range beats all.
Puk!!
Before it hit the bars, I pierced its forehead with aura. Cheonma's sword might've been riskier, but this was my Mithoricon sword. Already huge, it unleashed even bigger aura, stopping the boar dead.
Kung!
The boar collapsed, the thud cutting through the rain. The beasts looked shocked—it went down too easy.
I flicked my still-flaming aura blade.
"Come on."
"..."
"Come on, you animal shits. Come on!!"
"Keeeeng!!!"
And so began the siege across the bars. My reach and the barrier kept them at bay.
Jjeeng!
Rabbits and deer with killer kicks dented it sometimes. Good thing it was iron—not wood, or it'd be splinters.
"Get the hell out of my house!!!"
"Keheng!"
The siege to defend my home ended when the leader—the raccoon—fell. The rest scattered.
I panted from the thrill, then flopped down.
What a freakshow...
Weird it didn't happen last time. Maybe the storm wrecked their homes. I sighed, eyeing the corpses outside: the first boar, assorted animals. Wanted to butcher them, but no time.
Rain'll make 'em rot fast.
Have to bury 'em. Same spot as the gorillas.
Siege Successful. YasaengGrill
(Photos of dead animals outside)
(Photos of bars on the verge of breaking)
These beasts suddenly tried breaking into my house, so I sieged 'em back. If the owner says no, it's no—what's with forcing your way in;;
└Cheonma
Hmph. A touch of mercy wouldn't have hurt? Stinginess loses hearts.
└YasaengGrill
They're wild, not civilized;;
└Cheonma
Right, forgot. Slipped my mind for a sec.
└SwordTasteStar
Sieging animals... absurd. You okay?
└YasaengGrill
Yeah. Aura from range shredded 'em.
└SwordTasteStar
Weirdly effective, huh.
└What'd the animals do? Just dodging rain...
└YasaengGrill
Raccoon stole my Wall Valley Pills last time. Learned not to trust beasts.
└lololol
└lmao
└Wasn't that one half-killed by Ppareumbo?
└YasaengGrill
Yeah, but better than my house getting trashed
└Sieging beasts that aren't even monsters? First time hearing it.
└Humans raid with orcs/goblins sometimes, but animals? Nah.
└Happens. Wolves—fight humans most.
└No wolves tho? Usually there.
└Territorial, maybe elsewhere?
I closed the Gallery as users chatted. Outside, the rain had eased a bit. Probably stop in an hour.
Assume rain once a week...
Heavy rain brings animals. Logged it.
Wonmo slept blissfully, oblivious to my ordeal. Fair enough—unexpected siege.
Dduk- ttuk-
About an hour later, rain stopped. I looked out: sunny as ever, like it never happened.
Pak! Pak!
Big deal. Burying corpses was a workout. Prayed no giant worms as I dug. Lucky—none.
"Puha!"
"...And what're you?"
Just a weird mole popped out, stared with beady eyes, then bolted. Probably flooded out.
I smirked briefly, then buried the bodies clean.
Drainage works fine... Next, check the river?
Water still high, so take it slow. Plenty to do anyway.
If this happens every rain, headache city.
Forest animals and weather now. Checked oven/furnace, geared up. Swollen river—who knows what? Swapped to Cheonma's sword over Mithoricon.
Wonmo still snoozing, so left Ppareumbo.
At the river, expected chaos hit.
Kwagwagwagwa!!!
"Goddamn."
The torrent was a horizontal waterfall. Traps? Gone. But fish flopped on the banks—enough to tide me over.
But...
One stood out. Last time eels, this time pufferfish. Yeah, pufferfish. Round like Wonmo, swept from the sea.
Rain in the ocean too? Or what?
Eels can be freshwater, fine—but puffer? Sea-only. How?
Anyway, not eating it. Poisonous. Deadly enough normally; Forest version worse.
Plus, filleting's a nightmare.
Normal fish? Rough job fine. Puffer? Infamous precision work. Gallery full of idiots who watched vids and died. Skip unless expert.
Better send it back.
Shield forward, nudged it gently. It puffed up, threatened. Spiny puffer—not smooth.
Spike prick? Poison city. Olfather's antidote helps, but still.
Heading home, buddy. Scram.
Prodding it along when—
Kkuguguk!!!
Peobeobeobung!!!
It exploded, spines flying everywhere. Gut feeling saved me—shield up, minimal damage.
But not over...
Peong! Peng! Peng! Peobeobung!
Spines exploded too, spewing purple mist. Puff once, spines twice, explosions thrice. Impressive defenses.
And not done—
Seuuwuk-
Spines regenerated, shark-tooth style. Panicking, I booted it—no more plans.
Pungdeung!
Straight into the river. Off to the lake—or sea.
"Kkolk! Kkolk!"
Coughing hard, I retreated fast.
How, even careful?
Truly amazing place.