12 km
The red dots on my map pulsed faintly, almost like a heartbeat.
I stared at them, wondering who—or what—was waiting at the other end.
People, presumably. But what kind of people?
Ordinary humans? Elves? Maybe even catgirls?
The last thought brought a grin to my face.
“Now that would be fucking interesting.”
As ridiculous as it sounded, I couldn't rule anything out anymore. I'd died, woken up in a jungle, and received a system that could supposedly make me immortal. Compared to that, finding a few fantasy races didn't seem all that impossible.
Whatever this world was, it certainly wasn't anything I recognized.
And for the first time since arriving here, I felt a little excited about exploring it.
I focused on the nearest cluster of red dots and selected it mentally. The map immediately marked the location and displayed the distance between us.
12 km.
I stared at the number.
Then I stared at it a little longer, hoping it would magically become smaller.
It didn't.
“Twelve fucking kilometers? You want me to walk twelve kilometers through this jungle?”
I glanced at the thick vegetation surrounding me. Roots twisted across the ground, thorny bushes crowded the narrow gaps between trees, and the uneven terrain disappeared into the distance.
“I'm going to die before I even get there.”
I wasn't afraid of walking in principle, but trekking twelve kilometers through unfamiliar wilderness without proper equipment sounded like a miserable way to spend my first day in another world.
Then I looked down at my clothes.
More specifically, at the Magical Tool that had created them.
A thought crossed my mind.
“Wait. If this thing can turn into a gun, why not a vehicle?”
I concentrated on the image of a mountain bike.
The material covering my body immediately began to move.
Dark liquid flowed away from my clothes, gathering beside me before stretching into a familiar frame. Two wheels formed, followed by handlebars, pedals, and a sturdy seat. Within seconds, a mountain bike stood on the grass in front of me.
I blinked.
Then I walked around it, inspecting the tires and frame.
“No fucking way.”
I gripped the handlebars and gave the bike a little shake. It felt solid, and every part seemed to be in working order.
The Magical Tool really could become almost anything I imagined.
Or at least anything it was capable of creating.
I wasn't about to complain.
There was just one problem. A regular bicycle would make plenty of noise if I rode it carelessly through the jungle, and I had no idea how those red dots would react to a stranger suddenly appearing near their settlement.
I didn't know whether they were human, whether they were hostile, or whether they had weapons more dangerous than the primitive-looking spears I expected to find.
Better to be cautious.
I concentrated again, imagining an electric motor powering the bike. The Magical Tool shifted its structure, incorporating the components I had pictured.
I tested it carefully.
The motor worked, and the bike moved forward with barely a sound.
A satisfied smile appeared on my face.
“Now we're talking.”
I climbed onto the seat and started toward the marked location.
The first few kilometers weren't too bad. I followed the terrain displayed on my map, weaving between trees and slowing whenever the ground became too rough.
Unfortunately, a mountain bike wasn't exactly designed to glide through an untouched jungle.
Branches scraped against my arms. Thick vines occasionally caught the handlebars, and more than once, I had to dismount and push the bike over tangled roots. In some places, the vegetation was so dense that I had to find another route entirely.
“Whoever designed this fucking jungle clearly hated cyclists.”
I muttered a few more curses and kept going.
Thankfully, the live map helped me avoid the worst of the terrain. Whenever I reached a confusing stretch of forest, I checked my position and adjusted my route.
Eventually, the distance began to shrink.
Ten kilometers.
Seven.
Four.
By the time I reached the final stretch, sweat had gathered along my forehead, and my arms were scratched from pushing through the undergrowth.
But I had made it.
I stopped the bike behind a cluster of thick trees and checked the map one last time.
The settlement was just ahead.
I concentrated on the Magical Tool, and the bicycle dissolved into dark, flowing material. It climbed over my legs and torso before settling into the familiar shape of a T-shirt and shorts.
After checking that I was properly dressed, I looked toward the edge of the jungle.
Beyond the trees, the ground sloped downward into a wide clearing.
And there, spread across the landscape, was a village.
I crouched behind a tree and peered through the foliage.
The settlement looked nothing like the towns I knew. There were no paved roads, no electrical poles, and no concrete buildings. Instead, clusters of small huts stood scattered across the clearing, their walls made from packed earth and woven branches, with roofs of dried grass and straw.
Thin trails of smoke rose from a few cooking fires, drifting lazily into the afternoon sky.
People moved between the huts, carrying baskets, talking to one another, and going about their daily routines. A few children ran through the open spaces while adults worked nearby.
From this distance, the settlement almost looked peaceful.
Almost.
I checked my map.
I was still roughly five hundred meters away, and the slope between me and the village was too steep to ride down safely.
“Alright. Guess I'm walking from here.”
I left the bike hidden among the trees and began making my way down the slope on foot.
The ground was uneven, covered with loose soil, patches of grass, and exposed roots. I moved slowly, careful not to lose my footing or send a shower of dirt tumbling down the hillside.
When I found a spot with a clear view of the settlement, I lowered myself onto the ground and crawled behind a patch of tall grass.
From there, I could watch the village without exposing myself.
I summoned the Magical Tool again and pictured a pair of binoculars.
The transformation took only a moment.
I brought them to my eyes and adjusted the focus.
The entire village came into view.
And the first thing I noticed was the clothing.
Or rather, the almost complete lack of it.
The villagers wore simple garments made from leaves, animal hides, and rough plant fibers. Some of the men had strips of hide wrapped around their waists, while others wore crude coverings held together with braided cords.
Several carried long wooden spears tipped with sharpened stones.
I watched one man walk past a hut with a spear resting against his shoulder. The stone point was crude but sharp enough to be dangerous, and the wooden shaft looked sturdy.
These weren't people who had access to modern conveniences.
Everything about the settlement suggested a society that relied on hunting, gathering, and whatever materials could be found in the surrounding wilderness.
I slowly lowered the binoculars.
“Don't fucking tell me I've landed in the Stone Age.”
I looked at the village again.
“Seriously? Ten thousand BC? Maybe even earlier?”
I wasn't an archaeologist, and I had no way of dating the settlement just by looking at it. Still, the huts, tools, and clothing certainly reminded me of the prehistoric societies I'd seen in documentaries.
If I really had ended up in a world at that stage of development, I was in serious trouble.
“How the hell am I supposed to live with people who don't even have proper clothes?”
The words had barely left my mouth when a familiar mechanical voice sounded inside my head.
[ Congratulations, Host! ]
[ You have successfully identified your current era as the Stone Age. ]
[ As a reward for this discovery, you have been awarded 100 Pervert Points. ]
I froze.
Then I slowly looked up at the sky.
“Motherfucker…”
The word escaped in a low growl.
The system had confirmed it.
I was in the Stone Age.
Or, at least, this world had been classified as such by the system.
I dug my fingers into the damp earth and tried to process that information.
I'd expected another world, maybe even a fantasy world filled with magic and strange creatures. But being dropped into a prehistoric society was something else entirely.
No modern hospitals.
No supermarkets.
No reliable infrastructure.
And certainly no guarantee that the people living here would welcome a stranger who appeared out of nowhere.
I let out a slow breath.
“Actual fucking Stone Age.”
I was Alex Williams, a twenty-year-old man from a modern world, and I'd somehow ended up in a time when people still relied on stone tools and handmade shelters.
If this really was Earth's distant past, the implications were enormous.
If it was a parallel world, things could be even more complicated.
Either way, I was on my own.
Well, not entirely on my own.
I had the system, the Magical Tool, Limit Breaker, and Healing Factor. Those abilities gave me a considerable advantage, assuming their descriptions were accurate.
And now I had a hundred Pervert Points.
It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
I opened the Super-Market Store and searched for bottled water.
The price appeared immediately.
2 Pervert Points.
“Finally, something I can afford.”
I purchased one.
A plastic bottle materialized in my hand, cool to the touch, with tiny beads of condensation gathering along its surface.
I twisted the cap open and took a long drink.
The water was clean and refreshing, and I hadn't realized how thirsty I'd become until I felt it sliding down my throat.
“Damn. That hits the spot.”
It was an ordinary bottle of water, something I would barely have thought about in my old life.
Here, sitting on a hillside overlooking a prehistoric village, it felt like a luxury.
I drank a little more before screwing the cap back on.
Then I noticed the empty space in my system storage.
An idea occurred to me.
I concentrated on the bottle and imagined placing it inside the storage.
The bottle vanished from my hand.
I blinked and checked the system panel.
There it was, safely stored away.
A grin spread across my face.
“So I can put things back in there, too?”
That was useful.
Very useful.
If the storage could hold supplies without adding to the weight I carried, I could stock up on food, water, tools, and whatever else I managed to acquire.
I wouldn't have to worry about carrying everything on my back.
“That's fucking awesome.”
Then I paused.
I was getting excited about being able to store an empty water bottle.
An empty water bottle.
I leaned back and sighed.
“Look at me. A few hours ago, I had an entire modern world at my fingertips. Now I'm celebrating a bottle of water like I've won the lottery.”
It was a ridiculous situation, but there wasn't much I could do about it.
My old life was gone, at least for now. The cars, the conveniences, the influence I'd had in society—all of it was beyond my reach.
Still, the Super-Market Store gave me a way to obtain those things again.
Maybe I could eventually buy a car, a house, or even something far more extravagant. If the system's inventory was as extensive as it appeared, the possibilities were practically limitless.
But first, I needed points.
And that brought me back to the problem I'd been trying to avoid.
According to the system, Pervert Eyes would help me earn them by identifying certain body parts of women and assigning points to them.
Which meant I needed to understand how the ability worked and what the system expected me to do.
I looked through the binoculars again.
The village was full of people, and several women were working outside their huts.
For the first time, I could examine the villagers properly.
The women had a wide range of appearances, from light brown skin to deeper shades of bronze and caramel. Their long, dark hair was often tied back or left loose over their shoulders. Most wore simple garments made from leaves, woven fibers, or animal hides, and many had necklaces fashioned from bones, teeth, and polished stones.
Their clothing was practical rather than decorative, though some wore intricate bands around their arms and legs.
One woman sat outside a hut, working on a woven basket. She had strong features, high cheekbones, and a focused expression. Her dark hair fell down her back, occasionally slipping over her shoulder as she leaned forward to work.
Even from a distance, she carried herself with a quiet confidence.
Nearby, another woman walked between the huts with a basket balanced against her hip. Her movements were practiced and efficient, suggesting that she'd spent years doing the same daily tasks.
The villagers looked physically fit, which wasn't surprising. Their lives probably demanded constant movement, whether they were gathering food, carrying supplies, tending fires, or working around the settlement.
There was little sign of the elaborate jewelry or carefully tailored clothing I'd been accustomed to seeing in my previous life. Instead, their ornaments were made from the materials available to them.
Bone necklaces hung around several women's necks, their polished surfaces catching the sunlight. Some wore beads made from seeds or stones, while others had dark patterns painted or tattooed onto their arms and thighs.
The designs varied from simple lines to more complicated spirals and geometric shapes.
I found myself wondering whether those markings had any cultural significance. Perhaps they represented family groups, personal achievements, or something connected to their beliefs.
Whatever the meaning, they gave the villagers a distinctive appearance.
For a while, I simply watched them.
It was strange seeing people living in a way I'd only ever encountered in books and documentaries. They weren't characters in a historical drama or illustrations in a textbook. They were real people, going about their lives in a world that seemed impossibly distant from my own.
And I had absolutely no idea how I was supposed to approach them.
I couldn't just stroll into the village and announce that I was a man from the future.
Even if they understood what I was saying, they'd probably have a hard time believing me.
I adjusted the binoculars and studied the settlement again.
There were dozens of huts, several cooking fires, and what looked like a communal gathering area near the center. A few men were working on wooden tools, while others carried bundles of branches toward the edge of the village.
The people appeared organized, with their own routines and responsibilities.
They might not have had modern technology, but that didn't mean they were stupid or incapable. They'd survived in this environment long before I arrived, and they probably understood the surrounding land far better than I did.
That was something I needed to remember.
I might have a system, but I had no practical experience living in this world.
My immortality wouldn't automatically teach me how to find food, identify poisonous plants, or navigate the wilderness.
And it certainly wouldn't make me immune to making stupid decisions.
I lowered the binoculars and looked at the village with renewed caution.
My first priority was to learn more about these people without drawing unwanted attention.
If they were friendly, I might be able to establish contact and learn how to survive here. If they were hostile, I needed to know that before walking straight into their territory.
For now, I would stay hidden and observe.
I had time to figure things out.
At least, I hoped I did.