The Fairy's Instincts, Unexpectedly
Situations where people lose control over themselves weren't all that rare.
Drunken humans who couldn't even stand straight were one example. Children scarred by trauma from exposure to violence and terror in their early years were another. And those swept up in inescapable tragedies, developing panic disorders—yet another.
"Emotions always tend to trample reason. Acting faithfully on emotion easily leads everything to madness." Just like that famous quote from Baltasar Gracián.
The moment some factor renders emotions uncontrollable, the fragile human mind crumbles in an instant—like a sandcastle swept away by waves.
Without any mental preparation or countermeasures. No "normal" person could stay fully sane after suddenly transforming into something half a handspan tall, in the form of a little girl, no less.
It's only because I've been through all sorts of crap in life that I've managed to stay cool-headed, judge situations rationally, and find optimal solutions up to now. If anyone else had been thrown into my shoes, they'd probably be swimming in a wolf's stomach by this point.
Even I, though—couldn't ultimately escape the human category.
So the tragedy unfolding before my eyes... I hadn't noticed it myself, but in truth, my subconscious had been rotting away for a long time.
"...Hoo."
Staring at the red lump of meat that used to be a crow—but was no longer—I felt my overheated emotions slowly settling back into place.
To sum it up: I'd gotten a bit too immersed and enjoyed it way too much.
The instant I took in the sight of the crow—now unable to fly, no longer a threat to me—some switch flipped in my head. Or at least, that's what it felt like.
The reason I used vague terms like "probably"... was because I still couldn't be sure if the series of depraved actions I'd just cackled through were entirely by my own will.
From the moment I approached the flailing crow right up to when its last breath escaped, my consciousness had been hazy and dreamlike, trapped on the boundary between dream and reality. Ecstasy, rapture, or catharsis—something like that.
Of course, I'm not claiming the gruesome scene before me wasn't my doing or pleading diminished responsibility. Honestly, though, it still didn't feel real that I was the one behind it.
I killed the crow. To satisfy my own utterly base pleasure, a sliver of sadism, and my craving for fun.
Fluttering up like a butterfly, stinging like a bee. Then rising into the air again for a bombing run.
Stab. Poke. Stab. Poke. Stab. Poke. Until it could no longer move.
If I had to put it in words, it felt similar to solo sexual relief. At some point, desire dominates the entire brain. Afterward comes emptiness, hollowness, a subtle guilt. The so-called wise man time.
...Looks like it's not just the appearance that's changed.
Violence, pleasure, slaughter. For someone like me whose hobby was gaming, those were familiar keywords. Most games couldn't do without them, after all.
I'm not trying to make some ridiculously biased claim like "games are a disease and a social evil." The nonsense about game addiction blurring reality and fiction—people arbitrarily shoving others into their narrow worldview—doesn't even deserve discussion.
On the contrary, having spent years holed up in my room living like a shut-in, I felt the gap between reality and unreality more sharply than people with normal, fulfilling lives.
Familiar, but not close.
In my previous life, the extent of my killing had been limited to swatting mosquitoes that tried to suck my blood. Violence? If anything, I'd been the one getting hit, never the hitter—not once.
As for pleasure... it'd be a lie to say I never pursued it in life, but I kept it to personal small joys that harmed no one. Never anything illegal, dangerous, or against societal norms.
Someone with such utterly ordinary, normal sensibilities as me... was now finding profound satisfaction and thrill in violating and crushing a life.
Clearly abnormal. That's why I suspect it.
Is this cruelty bubbling to the surface truly my innate nature, buried deep within? Or is it insidious brainwashing that came with transforming into this form?
Fairy traits or something...?
I recalled the warning text I'd skimmed over in that Merhen-whatever game—the root cause of me ending up like this.
Strongly influenced by racial traits.
Unfortunately, I had no idea what those racial traits actually were.
No reason to know. Merhen-something was just a game I'd delete and forget after a few hours at most.
No matter how hard I wracked my brain, memories that didn't exist wouldn't appear. I couldn't recall a single letter of that warning.
But I couldn't just do nothing. As a countermeasure, I recalled the general traits of fairies I knew from folklore.
Guides who lead the wandering, yet also make them lose their way. Sneaking into homes to help with chores, or kidnapping children to whisk them to fairyland. Impulsive, mood-driven, oblivious to danger. Pure and wicked. Playful chaos.
Whatever the case, the polar opposite of my extremely rational self.
If I was being strongly swayed by such capricious fairy traits right now... then if some "condition" arose where I couldn't control myself... I could understand committing idiotic acts swept up in emotion, regardless of my true intentions.
Like the series of actions I just took—things the old me would never have done.
Well, if not... then I'm just the type who can't distinguish games from reality.
I wasn't crazy. As long as I was alive, breathing, and moving here right now, there was no reason to think this place was a game rather than reality—
Fairy lv.2
Level increased!
...Oh. There it is.
* * *
The tactless status window popped up, rudely interrupting my serious contemplation. On the flip side, you could say it helped me avoid getting needlessly bogged down in an unsolvable issue.
Whether my mental state had changed or not. Whether my playful crow-slaughtering was ethically problematic or not. None of that mattered.
"Pewoooo!" Slink. Sliiiide—
More importantly, I needed to get out of here before predators drawn by the blood scent arrived. Decision made, I clutched the bloodied, dulled fork to my chest and hurriedly fled the scene.
But I reeked of blood too, so a few times, animals that caught the scent blocked my path.
"Chik, zzzt!" Stab. "Shaaaak!" Thrust.
Fortunately, most obstacles were insects or small critters I could handle.
Kill or be killed. With that sole thought driving me, I jabbed with the fork and pressed forward.
.
Dribble, dribble.
Soon, luck smiled—I found a stream flowing through a rock crevice.
Splash, splash. Plop!
Without a second thought, I dove in, submerging my whole body.
To a human, it'd barely wet the ankles. For me, it was up to my chin.
Bone-chilling cold pierced me. The rough current thrashed like it would swallow me whole.
Enduring the cold and pain, I stabbed the fork into the streambed to avoid being swept away.
I stayed submerged as long as possible until the blood scent washed off. Only when it felt too dangerous did I emerge, looking like a drowned mouse.
.
The sky was turning crimson.
Owls, weasels, kudzu... no, civets. The night's wilderness was far more dangerous than daytime. Meeting night unprepared would be the end.
No time to warm my shivering body. Facing the cold wind, I frantically searched for a hideout for the night.
Thankfully, before the sun fully set, I found a stump from a broken dead tree. Confirmed no other occupants in the small gap inside, then I started camping prep in earnest.
.
.
.
.
I finished all preparations just before full night fell. Double-checked for dangers nearby, then returned to the stump.
First, I shoved today's skewered snack-fork in, then slipped into the gap beside the stump. A cozy space just big enough to lie down unfolded.
Approaching the fork on the stump floor, I plucked off the wood fruit I'd grabbed midway and hugged it. Covered the entrance with pre-gathered leaves, and darkness enveloped me.
Careful not to impale myself, I moved to settle on the leaf bed. Rustling leaves and musty earth scent created a snug atmosphere.
I closed my eyes briefly, feeling the fruit in my arms. I'd grabbed it for emergencies, but had no intention of eating it.
There were signs of wild animals eating from the bush nearby, but without knowing local ecology, eating rashly was taboo.
Could be belladonna or something—looks like wild berries but actually poisonous. So I needed to think carefully about—
Grrrrumble.
...eating it?
It's fine. I'm a fairy anyway. Not like I'll die from a random fruit.
Yeah, no problem. With that conclusion, I chomped a big bite from the fruit in my hands.
Crunch. Nom nom. "...Mmph."
A bit tart, maybe underripe, but totally edible.
Crunch. Crunch. Nom nom. Nom nom.
Today was exercise-heavy, but somehow, I'd survived Day 1 here.
Tomorrow, use this stump as a temp base and properly scout the area... scout th—
Finally feeling secure, piled-up fatigue hit all at once. Before I knew it, I'd dozed off against the wall.
Ding~!
"...?"
Similar to the message when the crow died and I leveled up—a translucent screen suddenly appeared before my eyes.
"Yaaawn...."
Reflexively, my eyes scanned the text.
Skills:
├─ Fly lv.9
├─ Evasion lv.3
├─ Air Flow Riding lv.1
├─ Hide lv.2(new!)
├─ Stab lv.3(new!)
└─ Natural Affinity lv.1 (+)(new!) ★
Evolution possible! Level max reached!
...Evolution?
My drooping eyes snapped wide open.