Neighbors (1)

A raccoon that spewed fire from its mouth like a ninja out of legend.

Not only could it breathe fire, but it was also capable enough to store that flame inside a glass bottle. I wasn't entirely sure what bottled fire could be used for, but an ability this unique was bound to come in handy somewhere. Above all, I took an immediate liking to its temperament.

That's the biggest factor.

Far beyond merely docile, the creature was polite to a fault; it was simply impossible to dislike. Even Fast Tree Sloth, fiercely territorial as it was, had stopped after swatting its back without pursuing further violence. That alone proved just what a decent fellow this raccoon was, which only made me fonder of it.

Should I take it in? It looks more than capable of pulling its own weight.

Whatever else it could or couldn't do, there was no doubt it was a master of fire. Just as I had until now, I would have plenty of use for fire moving forward. If this fire-wielding raccoon lent me a hand, couldn't I accomplish things that were previously out of reach? And even if I didn't know their current utility, I could stockpile those bottled flames along the way.

Falling down the chimney in the first place meant it was likely drawn to the fire, so we should be able to strike a mutual agreement: I provide a safe shelter, and the raccoon puts its talents to work. Without hesitation, I pitched the offer to the raccoon, mixing spoken words with frantic hand gestures and body language.

"Kee-eng."

Yet the raccoon flatly turned down my offer.

It was astonishing enough that it understood my words, but it even held up a tiny paw to make its refusal crystal clear. No matter how extraordinary its talents were, having wandered all the way here suggested it lacked a proper home. In a living hell like this forest, a secure haven was a matter of life and death. When I asked why it was refusing, the raccoon picked up a stray twig lying near the firewood pile.

Scratch, scratch.

It began sketching on the earthen floor. I leaned in, watching attentively. True to its sharp intellect, its drawing skills were remarkably adept.

Between Fast Tree Sloth and this guy, is sketching an essential survival skill for the beasts in the Forest of the Four Seasons?

Somehow, it seemed to draw better than I did. While I was musing over that, the raccoon completed its sketch: three raccoons in total. To all appearances, it looked like a family. Did raccoons live in packs?

"Keng!"

"Ah. That one's you?"

The raccoon pointed toward the largest figure of the three. In human terms, the head of the household. A father, in other words. The smaller raccoons depicted beside him were likely his mate and pup.

Well, there's no helping it then.

Whether beast or human, the breadwinner carries heavy responsibilities. I gave an understanding nod. I would have loved to offer some food as a token of goodwill, but unfortunately, my own survival hung in the balance. The only provisions I had on hand were heavily salted smoked meats, which hardly suited a wild animal's diet.

"Keng. Kee-eng."

"Hm? You want some fire?"

"Keng."

"Take as much as you like."

Instead, the little fellow asked for fire, and I gladly granted permission. I could kindle a flame whenever I needed one, and fire could hardly be counted as a scarce resource anyway. At my nod, the raccoon bowed politely, then touched the twig it had used for drawing to the fireplace.

Whoosh!

The tip caught alight, bursting into a lively blaze. To me it was merely a twig, but gripped in the raccoon's paws, it resembled a miniature torch. Normally, dry wood of that size would burn down to ash in seconds, yet through whatever mystical trick it pulled, the ember burned steady and slow like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a candle. Gazing at the merrily burning torch, the raccoon wore a look of deep satisfaction.

"Kee-eng!"

"Right. Take care out there. Stay safe, and if you ever change your mind, drop by anytime."

Torch held high in one paw, the raccoon went on its way. It was a bit of a shame, but surely our paths would cross again. It might lack raw physical might, but with wits that sharp, it was bound to survive somehow.

Unlike a certain bunch, he's actually polite and well-mannered.

Certain scoundrels had stolen all my Inedia Pills and tried to square the debt with a bunch of bananas. I hoped we could maintain steady contact if possible. But first, I needed to figure out what this bottled fire actually was. I watched until the raccoon's silhouette vanished into the wilderness, then logged onto the Gallery.

Everyone found the raccoon fascinating. The part about consuming fire, in particular, seemed hard for them to swallow. Well, this was the Forest of the Four Seasons, so it was best to simply accept the absurdity and move on.

Not like he'll drop by very often anyway.

I had never caught a glimpse of it before, only crossing paths now that winter had arrived. During other seasons, it likely stuck close to its own territory and immediate surroundings. With winter freezing the land, food must have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠grown scarce, naturally pushing it to forage further afield. Could such a tiny fellow really survive in this brutal forest down the line? I couldn't help feeling a bit concerned.

Still, with an extraordinary talent like that, it'll probably manage.

In fact, having already adapted to the Forest of the Four Seasons, its odds of survival were probably better than mine. At any rate, with the raccoon gone, I counted the remaining Ice Snow Flowers. There were still two left, so they could be put to use somewhere. Besides, scouring the surrounding area would likely turn up more.

Better put off cultivating cold resistance for now, right?

Without Starlight Princess's guidance, concocting a draught and downing it raw could lead to catastrophe. Yet leaving them to sit felt like a waste.

Brewing them with Mandrakes to give to Praise the Sun wouldn't be a bad idea either...

I checked my remaining supply of Elixir. Having used some to brew with Mandrakes, I had roughly three and a half bottles left. Factoring in the possibility that Wonmo, Fast Tree Sloth, and I might all suffer severe injuries at the same time, this was my absolute safety threshold.

It feels like mixing it with that would do the trick, though.

The fire the raccoon had captured in the bottle. Couldn't that bottled flame be combined with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Ice Snow Flower? However, that was pure speculation without solid proof. An expert's counsel was non-negotiable. Unfortunately, even Allfather was currently unavailable, leaving me at an impasse.

I'll just wait for the next opportunity.

There was plenty of time; no need to rush. Above all, didn't I need to undergo training to master frost energy first? On top of that, the workload would multiply exponentially once winter passed.

Put the bricks, cement, and sand over here...

I made preparations in advance for when the freeze began to thaw. As soon as the weather broke, I planned to construct an oven and a smelting furnace. I also kept an emergency escape route in mind, so my plate was plenty full.

How should I design it so it doesn't get swept away by an avalanche?

Avalanches were likely to strike roughly once a month. And not just avalanches—there was no telling what other natural disasters might come crashing down. I'd probably need to survive another fortnight before I could grasp the twisted seasonal laws of this cursed forest.

It has to be rock-solid, no matter what. Maybe I should just build a small outbuilding?

With bricks and cement already on hand, erecting a dedicated workshop to house the oven and furnace seemed like the right move. It would take time, but durability would be guaranteed. Of course, if an anomalous monster like Chief Gorilla burst onto the scene, all bets were off. That was beyond human control anyway; weathering natural disasters was all I asked for.

I need to maximize floor space, dig separate drainage channels... Man, my head hurts.

If I had gone to college, maybe I'd have a clue, but unfortunately, I was just a high school graduate. Penniless as I was back then, staying fed day-to-day had taken everything I had. My only consolation was the smattering of practical skills picked up during military service. I purchased a large sheet of paper through the exchange and sketched out the cave and its perimeter.

A simple rectangular layout should be safest, right?

To make room for that, I'd need to fell quite a few more trees. I planned to tidy up the clearing that Chief Gorilla had kindly smashed open for me. Spending the entire day immersed in blueprints and site planning, dusk crept up before I knew it. Snow began to fall with the coming of night, but it wasn't a blizzard—just gentle, ordinary snowfall.

Could this also be a sign that the weather is softening?

According to the journal left behind by my senior predecessor, the cold snap was slated to break in two to three days. I ought to wrap up everything I could before then. With some luck, maybe I'd even manage a hunt. Tossing more firewood onto the flames, I took a seat beside Fast Tree Sloth. Aside from meal times, this guy seemed permanently parked before the fireplace.

It has its perks, but I still hate winter.

The sun setting early and rising late was the biggest pain. The reduced activity of forest predators was certainly a blessing, but the same handicap applied to me. Sitting quietly before the hearth, a sudden thought struck me, and I pushed myself up.

No time to laze around. Snow could pile up overnight again.

So I set to work scattering salt. Without calcium chloride, coarse salt was my only alternative. Since the emergency escape shaft was still in the planning stages, staying ahead of potential hazards was vital. With that, my preparations for winding down the day were complete. In the long winter nights, there wasn't much else to do.

At least the drama topic on the Gallery has shifted, which is a relief.

Thanks to recent sports tournaments, the discourse surrounding El Dorado had largely fizzled out. In other words, it was on the verge of being completely buried. Though irrelevant to me, that probably wasn't great news for the folk out in the civilized world.

Well, outer-world matters are for outer-world people to sort out.

All I needed to do was wait for winter to thaw. I quietly passed the time, posting a brief check-out thread on the Gallery to mark the end of the day.

"Hey. Aren't you going to sleep?"

"..."

"Sigh. Never mind."

Fast Tree Sloth, spacing out into the dancing flames, could take care of itself. Silently praying that a blizzard wouldn't blow in by dawn, I shut my eyes. Whatever lay ahead was anyone's guess, but things were far more likely to get harder than easier.

If I'd known, maybe I should've dragged that raccoon along by force?

With that stray thought in mind, the next morning dawned.

"Kee-eng!"

"Uh..."

The moment I woke up, the raccoon was greeting me outside the cave. And not alone, either—it had brought along its entire family. One raccoon presumed to be its mate, and a tiny baby raccoon peeking out from behind them. Anyone could see that this raccoon household was practically screaming, 'We just moved in!'

"Keng!"

"...What is this?"

The father raccoon held something out toward me. At first glance, it resembled an ordinary bellflower root or wild ginseng, but its coloration was extraordinary. Pure white like fallen snow, it practically broadcasted: I am a miraculous spiritual herb.

"Kee-eng! Keng!"

As I accepted the herb with a dazed expression, the raccoon bowed from the waist. Its mate and pup followed suit. The baby raccoon offering its shy little bow was especially adorable.

...Did they come to hand out housewarming rice cakes?

It seemed I had gained some unexpected neighbors.