The First Hunt
Having endured the raging storm, Chester had immediately roamed the forest to work and build the Beach Villa right after the weather cleared. It was a situation that would have broken an ordinary person and completely ruined their sleep cycle, but Chester woke up at dawn, just before the sun rose, as he always did.
He was well-accustomed to working overtime or even staying up for days on end due to sudden schedule changes or Monia's stubborn demands. And no matter how grueling the work, a butler was rarely shown any leniency. This was especially true for a personal butler like Chester, who was assigned exclusively to Monia and had to begin his duties before the day even started.
Even if it shaved years off his life, and no matter how exhausted and worn down by hard labor he became, he had to stick to the designated schedule.
An occupational hazard, perhaps.
Realizing he had woken up just before dawn broke, Chester stood up and stretched to loosen his stiff muscles. After waking up his body, he chased away the last remnants of sleep with light exercises like jogging in place and running.
Once fully awake, he looked around the Beach Villa and saw Monia sleeping with a deep scowl on her face. Perhaps because they hadn't had enough time to build a bed and she was sleeping directly on the ground, she looked incredibly uncomfortable.
"Ugh... No, the demon... The demon is chasing me!"
What on earth is she dreaming about?
Chester watched Monia flail her arms while muttering strange things in her sleep, then turned to poke at the dead campfire. As he carefully stirred the ashes, a few remaining embers caught the fresh air and glowed a warm orange.
He added some kindling to revive the fire, swept the ashes aside, and stacked fresh firewood. Once the fire was going, Chester grabbed his spear and the sling he had recovered from yesterday's wreckage, then headed into the forest.
Though the storm had only recently passed, it was about time for the animals to start moving. Larger beasts could survive longer on stored energy, but smaller creatures did not have that luxury. Once a storm cleared, they had to move immediately to forage.
Chester intended to target those very animals. He could have just caught fish, but he had no intention of restricting himself to the same familiar spots. Doing so would leave him vulnerable to unforeseen dangers creeping up on him. Thus, he planned to use his hunts as an opportunity to explore the surrounding areas and deepen his understanding of the island.
As he crept through the forest on the hunt, a strange sound caught his ear. Stealing toward the source, he spotted a creature with long, curved claws digging into a fallen log.
What is that?
The beast dug at the wood, sniffed around with the snout at the end of its elongated head, and then went back to clawing at the log. After a few moments of tearing and splintering the wood, it flicked out a long tongue, pulled a fat grub from the crevice, and swallowed it down.
Chester studied the creature more closely. It walked on all fours, but its forelegs were longer than its hind legs, and they were armed with formidable, menacing claws. Its fur was generally short, though a strip of longer hair ran down its back, draping over its body.
Its ears twitched constantly in every direction, and its eyes, positioned on the sides of its head, allowed it to see almost all the way behind itself—clear indicators that this creature was not a predator. Predators had eyes and ears focused forward to track prey, not to scan their surroundings for danger.
But just because it wasn't a predator didn't mean it wasn't dangerous. On an island devoid of proper medical facilities, a single swipe from those razor-sharp claws could easily lead to fatal blood loss or infection.
Even so, Chester's mouth watered.
Those would be incredibly useful.
If he could find a stone hard enough to sharpen them, he could fashion a knife far superior to anything he currently had. Furthermore, that curved, hook-like shape would be exceptionally handy for climbing cliffs.
While Chester eyed the claws with greedy anticipation, the creature found a second grub and happily devoured it. Watching the beast tear further into the wood in search of more food, Chester picked up a stone, loaded it into his sling, and began to whirl it.
Quietly, slowly, carefully, making no sound... He held his breath, waiting for what he deemed the perfect moment. He aligned his target with an imaginary line in his mind, calculating the slight delay of the stone leaving the pouch and how that friction might throw off his aim.
Chester released one end of the sling held by his index finger. The sudden release of centrifugal force sent the stone flying, the recoil vibrating through the loop wrapped around his middle finger.
Thwack! The flying stone struck the unidentified creature squarely in the head.
...I was aiming for the body, though.
In truth, Chester had targeted the larger surface area of the torso rather than the small, difficult-to-hit head, but a win was a win. It was a mistake, but it had resulted in an instant, clean kill. Deciding to be satisfied with the outcome, Chester grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck and lifted the carcass.
Setting the body aside, he examined the spot where the creature had been digging and began to pry the wood apart in the same direction. Exerting his strength, he split the log open, revealing a wriggling grub inside.
"Oh."
Chester popped it straight into his mouth and chewed.
"Are there any more?"
He dug around a bit more, but that seemed to be the last one. Suppressing his disappointment, Chester picked up his quarry and moved on.
A bit disappointing. It looked quite meaty when it was covered in fur.
Up close, he realized its body was actually quite slender; it was mostly just fluff. Still, finding decent game so quickly was an excellent start. Chester suppressed the urge to hum a tune and continued his trek through the forest.
As he wandered, Chester came across a grove of bamboo.
...Should I use bamboo when I build the house?
Even if Chester could easily carry a thin log or two, climbing up a tree with them on his back was out of the question. He would have to climb first and then haul the materials up using vines, which meant he needed to avoid anything too heavy. In that regard, bamboo was perfect. It was light enough for even Monia to carry, yet sturdy enough to serve as flooring.
Chester notched a nearby tree to mark the location of the bamboo. Then, he resumed his hunt, exploring deeper into the forest.
The forest was teeming with life. There were brightly colored spiders, all kinds of insects, and the birds, reptiles, and small rodents that fed on them, along with the carnivores that hunted those smaller creatures. One peculiar detail stood out: most of the animals he encountered were remarkably small.
Did the island environment cause them to shrink?
Chester didn't know the scientific theory of "evolution," but he was well aware of the concept of "adaptation"—how seemingly identical creatures developed distinct differences to survive in various environments. He figured that was the reason behind the abundance of small creatures here.
They must have adapted to hide and endure anywhere in response to sudden climate shifts.
Moreover, they likely discarded large bodies that required massive amounts of food, opting instead for smaller frames that could easily sustain themselves and generate energy on meager portions.
But if that's the case, what was up with that bear?
A question arose. The bear Chester had encountered was only about the size of his torso—incredibly small for a bear. He had assumed it was a cub, but in an environment where all creatures had shrunk...
Could that have been a fully grown adult?
A bear. Chester's deepest trauma. Back when his fear of bears was at its peak, he couldn't even step foot into a forest, terrified of the wilderness they inhabited. Even now, having overcome his dread of nature as his emotional wounds healed over time, bears still terrified him. Wounds might heal, but the scars always remained.
On the other hand, the plants are massive.
Because the animals were small, the vegetation grew unchecked. It made sense, given the lack of giant herbivores to devour them. If that was the case, there might be creatures living high up in the canopy specifically to feed on the lush foliage. However, climbing trees to hunt consumed too much energy; even if he knew there was edible game up there, he had no intention of pursuing it.
...What is that?
After wandering for a while longer, Chester stopped by a river to drink. On his way back, he spotted another suitable target.
What is that?
It was a frog. But it wasn't just any frog—it was massive, plump, and meaty.
I hope its skin isn't poisonous.
He had heard stories of remote tribes coating their arrowheads with poison harvested from frog skin. Usually, though, such toxic creatures were quite small. While large poisonous creatures did exist, he wondered where this frog stood.
Is it poisonous or not?
Deciding to catch it first and figure it out later, Chester loaded a stone into his sling. At that exact moment—
"Huh?"
A sudden impact jarred his back. As Chester stumbled, something swept past him at blinding speed. Whipping his head up, he saw a bird soaring into the sky, its talons clutching the creature he had just hunted.
"..."
At first, Chester stared blankly, unable to process what had just happened. Then, his face contorted in an instant.
"You little piece of shit...!"
It was the first time Chester had been this furious since two years ago, when Monia had inspected a banquet hall he had spent an entire month preparing, only to casually order him to tear it all down and start over by the following evening.