The Hunter's Son
The rodent was scurrying across the Floating Island, doing its best to survive another day. As the creature busily gnawed on a piece of fallen fruit, a snake watched from a branch above, eager to fill its long-starved belly. The snake had been on the verge of hunting when the typhoon struck, forcing it to hide for days. Now, it was absolutely famished.
Slowly, cautiously, it slithered closer to the oblivious rodent, which remained focused entirely on its meal. Though non-venomous, the snake was a master hunter. Once its hook-like teeth sank in, no amount of struggling would save the prey. All that would be left was to swallow it alive, inch by inch.
It crept closer, bit by bit. Suddenly, a fist-sized stone came flying through the air, slamming into the dirt right next to the rodent. Startled, the rodent bolted. Having lost its meal right before its eyes, the disappointed snake quickly retreated into the shadows. On this island, the only creatures that hunted by throwing stones were the ones who ruled the fertile lands deep within. The snake had to flee before it became the prey.
Slip the loop over the middle finger, and hold the other end of the cord with the index finger. Once the sling is secured with those two fingers, place a suitably sized stone into the pouch and begin to spin.
Chester aimed at the mysterious rodent eating fruit ahead of him. The fist-sized creature was happily munching away on the fallen fruit, completely unaware of his presence. Slowly swinging the sling in a vertical, top-to-bottom motion, Chester aligned his target with an imaginary sightline. With a smooth motion of his right arm, he accelerated the spin and released one of the cords, letting the stone fly.
"Ah!" Chester thought it was a decent throw, but the result was disappointing. The stone struck the ground right next to the rodent, scaring it so badly that it abandoned its fruit and fled.
"Damn. Just a little more to the left." He muttered to himself, unable to hide his frustration.
Shaking off the disappointment, Chester walked over to where the stone had landed and picked up the discarded fruit. It's not rotten. It was dirty, but certainly edible. He wiped off the dirt and popped it into his mouth.
Chester chewed on the fruit as he walked through the forest. He had to leave his missed prey behind and find something else. He kept walking. The boy who had been born to a hunter and spent his childhood running wild in the mountains was long gone. His feet, softened by years of walking on paved city streets, were screaming inside his leather shoes.
Still, Chester pushed forward. He made sure not to venture too deep to avoid losing his bearings, and before long, he spotted a new target. It was a bird resting on a branch. Hurry, before it flies away! The urge to rush gripped him, but Chester forced himself to take a deep breath and calm his racing heart.
He loaded another stone into the sling. This time, he spun it from bottom to top to get a higher trajectory. The stone whistled through the air, grazing the bird.
"Tsk!" Chester groaned, but then he saw the bird fall from the branch, struggling to move. He dashed forward. The stone must have clipped its wing. Unable to fly, the bird scrambled desperately across the forest floor.
Chester quickly pulled another stone from his pocket and threw it by hand. It sailed far over the bird's head. Without wasting time on regret, he grabbed another stone and threw it.
"Damn it!" Missing again, Chester realized his body was far more exhausted than he had thought. It took a third throw to finally strike the bird down. Panting heavily, Chester picked up the carcass. The sheer amount of time and failed attempts it had taken to catch this single bird made his head spin. Yet, looking at the prey in his hands, a faint, involuntary smile tugged at his lips.
When Chester returned to their campsite with the bird, he was greeted by the sight of Monia, sniffling while holding a bundle of broken branches and tangled vines.
"Ugh..."
"What are you doing?"
"!" Startled by Chester's sudden appearance, Monia hastily tried to hide the branches and vines behind her back, pretending nothing was wrong.
"Oh, I-I wasn't doing anything. What are you talking about?"
"..." Chester stared at the pile of debris behind her. It was clearly a failed attempt at building a shelter, and she was trying to block it with her body. Did she honestly think she was hiding it?
Realizing her cover-up was utterly useless, Monia's cheeks flushed red.
"Were you trying to build a shelter?"
"N-No? I could easily build one if I wanted to, but I just wanted to immerse myself in nature today..."
In his mind, Chester downgraded Monia's intelligence from "uneducated human" to "slightly clever monkey" as he sifted through her pile of failures. Locating the firewood he had gathered earlier, Chester quickly set about making a fire. All he needed was two sticks and some tinder.
First, he used a sharp stone to carve a groove into a dry branch. Stepping on the branch with both feet to hold it steady, he took a smooth stick and placed its tip into the groove. It was the classic hand-drill method. The trick was not just spinning the stick aimlessly, but applying downward pressure to create friction. The pressure and friction would grind the wood into fine dust, which would eventually catch a spark from the heat.
As a black ember formed and a thin wisp of smoke rose, Chester carefully transferred it to a bundle of shredded bark tinder and began to blow gently. After a few careful breaths, the smoke thickened, and a bright flame burst to life. He set the burning tinder down and fed it small twigs. Once the fire stabilized, he piled larger branches on top, completing the campfire.
"Ah..." Chester gazed at the crackling red flames. The sudden heat chased away the surrounding humidity, replacing the sticky air that had plagued them all day with a dry, comforting warmth. With the sun dipping below the horizon, the temperature was dropping fast, making the warmth of the fire incredibly welcome.
"Nice." After basking in the warmth for a moment, Chester began to hum as he prepared the bird he had caught. Ignoring Monia, who was trembling in horror at the sight of the carcass, he slipped his fingers between the skin and the meat, peeling it off in one smooth motion.
"..." Chester considered if there was any use for the feathered skin, but finding none, he tossed it into the sea. Leaving it near their camp would only attract wild beasts with the smell of rot.
Using a sharp stone, he butchered the meat, discarding the inedible entrails while keeping the heart and liver. He skewered the organs on a stick and held them over the fire.
"Ugh!" Unable to watch, Monia gagged. Having eaten nothing since arriving on the island, she had nothing to throw up and could only dry heave.
"W-Why are you cooking those?"
"They're rich in iron."
After carving out the rest of the edible meat, Chester walked down to the shore to wash off the stone dust and discard the scraps. He then skewered the remaining meat and began roasting it, eating the cooked heart and liver first. Though the meat was charred black in places, Chester didn't mind in the slightest and devoured it all.
"...You actually eat that. Isn't it disgusting?"
"I ate a lot of this when I was a kid."
"...How did you end up entering the Butler Academy?" To Monia, it was obvious Chester didn't come from a wealthy family. The Butler Academy. Becoming a butler for a noble house was no small feat. It was a dream reserved for the second sons of nobility who wouldn't inherit, or the children of wealthy merchants.
"My parents didn't want me to live like them," Chester said, tearing a piece of meat from a drumstick. "They saved up every penny they could to give me a better life."
Of course, money alone wasn't enough to enter the academy. One needed a noble's recommendation.
"My father saved the life of an old, childless noble." The noble wanted to repay the debt, and Chester's father asked for his son to be given a chance at a better life. And so, Chester, the hunter's son, entered the Butler Academy on that old noble's recommendation.
... Monia was quietly impressed. Most students at the academy had their lives mapped out from birth, receiving specialized tutoring from a young age. But Chester was different. He had gone from a hunter's son to an academy student overnight, yet he had excelled enough to be chosen by the Duke's family. He was so outstanding that her proud father had overlooked his commoner status to hire him. And even after being suddenly exiled to a deserted island, he hadn't panicked. He had simply adapted, surviving with remarkable ease.
...Did he always look like that? Monia found herself staring at his face. To her, a butler was merely a tool, an object she had never bothered to look at closely. He had been nothing more than a doll that obeyed her commands. It was almost shocking to realize that this was the first time she was truly seeing his face. She had possessed so little interest in commoners that she viewed them all as livestock—like cows or pigs whose faces were impossible to tell apart. Thus, this was a monumental shift. Chester had just been recognized as a 'human' by the arrogant daughter of the Duke.
Until now, the only people she considered human were those like her—wealthy, lavishly dressed, surrounded by servants, and pampered. Their lives were so decadent that their greatest physical exertion in a day was breathing or chewing. It was a flat, predictable existence where yesterday was identical to a year ago. But now, sitting before her was someone who had walked an entirely different path. A man whose life had been turbulent, dynamic, and full of struggle.
"..." Monia watched Chester as he happily ate the roasted bird. She was intrigued. As Chester returned from throwing the bones into the sea, Monia spoke up.
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
"Will you tell me more about yourself?"
Chester lay down inside his makeshift shelter. "No. I'm sleeping." And with that, he actually closed his eyes.
Left alone, Monia puffed out her cheeks and grumbled. With nothing else to do, she decided to try and sleep as well.
"...Ahhh! There's dirt everywhere!" Unfortunately, the Floating Island was far too harsh a bed for a woman who had demanded a luxury mattress even in her prison cell. "Eek! A bug?!"