The World Is Vast, and Fools Are Plentiful

Winter in the North was unforgiving.

When a man collapsed unconscious in the freezing cold, buried under mounds of snow, his chances of survival hovered near zero. Yet Ivan was certain the old man lying before him was still breathing.

"Damn... look at this frame."

Muscles were woven tightly across the stranger's body like a meticulously fitted suit of armor. Could a human being really look like that? If one disregarded the peppered gray hair and the deep furrows etched into his weathered face, he could easily pass for a robust youth in his prime.

Leaving him behind probably wouldn't end the world, but walking away from a dying elder sat poorly with Ivan's conscience. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Deep within his soul, the lingering instincts of his old-world Confucian upbringing stirred. Back in his homeland, anyone who averted their eyes from a fallen elder on the street was treated as an irredeemable scoundrel unworthy of human decency.

No matter how he sliced it, the reasons to help far outweighed the excuses to look away. With a quiet sigh, Ivan carefully lifted the old man onto his back.

"Ah, for fuck's sake. Don't these savage bastards ever bathe?"

The pungent, rancid funk unique to a northern barbarian warrior wafted off the old man in waves. Ivan couldn't stifle the curse tearing from his throat. Filial piety and moral decency be damned—for a fleeting second, he felt a powerful urge to chuck the reeking codger into the nearest icy river. Only the fear of giving the geezer a fatal heart attack held him back.

Upon reaching his cabin, Ivan hesitated briefly before setting the old man down onto the hard wooden floor. Placing that vile stench on his bed was simply out of the question. He tossed fresh firewood into the dying hearth, coaxing the embers back to life until crackling flames filled the cabin with gentle warmth.

Roughly two hours passed before the old man snapped upright.

Ivan offered a polite inquiry out of basic courtesy.

"Sir, are you feeling all right?"

"Food."

Remarkably, Ivan didn't even blink. Out of nowhere, vivid memories from his past life surged back to the surface.

Compared to the retail hell of his previous life, this level of gruffness was downright adorable. Ivan maintained a placid, professional smile.

"I figured you'd be hungry, so I prepared a meal in advance. It's humble fare, but take care not to choke—"

Before Ivan could finish his sentence, the old man fell upon the spread with terrifying speed. In the blink of an eye, a whole roasted boar foreleg was stripped clean, reduced to bare bone. Calling this act 'eating' felt like an insult to the culinary arts.

"Got more? And a drink, if you have any."

"...Ah, right away."

Ivan fetched more food with a dazed expression. Right before his eyes, the concept of a competitive eating broadcast was being violently redefined. Had the top eating streamers from back home witnessed this spectacle, they would have slammed face-first into an insurmountable wall of despair and announced immediate retirement.

The old man threw back cups of liquor in single gulps and inhaled roasted meat like air. To Ivan, who had endured three years of monastic, solitary existence deep in the wilderness, watching such raw gluttony unfold was almost sensory overload.

It was only after the old man wiped out every scrap of food stored in the cabin that Ivan finally snapped out of his trance.

Wait... did this old bastard just clean out my entire winter pantry?

A primal urge for wanton violence surged from the pit of Ivan's stomach. Oblivious—or completely indifferent—to the murder in Ivan's eyes, the old man patted his taut belly with deep satisfaction.

"Whew. Feels like I'm finally back among the living. Much obliged, young man."

"Don't... mention it... Seeing you eat with such gusto warms my heart with... immense joy."

Ivan ground his molars so hard they creaked. If not for the venerable teachings of Confucius, his fist would have caved the old man's nose in five minutes ago.

"Since fate has crossed our paths like this, how about we exchange names? I'm Ivan."

"Ah... that might be tricky. My circumstances are a bit tangled, you see."

Hiding his identity gave off the distinct, pungent aroma of a wanted criminal. Ivan raised his mental threat assessment by several notches.

"Still, a man has to pay for his keep. I'm reasonably handy at hunting—would a fresh catch square our account?"

So the freeloading geezer possessed a shred of conscience after all. Ivan felt his irritation soften a fraction. In truth, losing the precious ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠alcohol stung far worse than parting with the meat, but it wasn't as though he could force the old man to throw it back up. What was done was done.

"Well, if you're willing, I certainly won't say no."

"You're a refreshingly straightforward lad, just like you look. Well then... shall we go loosen up our joints?"

A sly, meaningful grin tugged at the corners of the old man's mouth, only to vanish into stone-faced neutrality an instant later.

Ivan navigated the snowy woodland in search of game. Having roamed these woods for three long years, the dense northern forest felt as comfortable and familiar to him as his own backyard.

"Your footwork is crisp, kid. Not at all like the soft runts running around these days."

"...You're not doing too poorly yourself, old-timer."

The old man kept pace right beside him without showing the faintest sign of fatigue. Considering he was unfamiliar with this particular stretch of wilderness, it was an impressive display of stamina. While secretly admiring the elder's endurance, Ivan spotted fresh, jagged claw marks carved into the trunk of a pine tree, along with tufts of coarse brown fur scattered across the snowbanks.

Judging by the freshness of the tracks, the prey was still nearby.

"Excuse me for a moment, elder."

"Hm?"

Ivan surged forward, kicking up plumes of powder. The trees blurred into a streak of white and brown as the biting wind whipped against his face. The musky scent of a beast grew stronger with every stride until he burst into a clearing and found a massive brown bear standing upright on its hind legs, greedily devouring a frozen honeycomb. It was likely packing on its final calories before settling into winter hibernation.

"Groar?"

The beast grunted in bewilderment as it noticed an unidentified creature hurtling toward it at breakneck speed. But the moment it recognized the approaching silhouette as a mere human, it smacked its jowls, threw its massive forelegs wide, and let loose a deafening roar. In human terms, the beast's reaction amounted to: Look at this free meal delivering itself!

Ivan smirked.

The bear swung a massive paw with savage force—a crushing blow capable of pulping an ordinary man's skull in a single strike. Ducking effortlessly beneath the whistling arc, Ivan drove his left fist directly into the beast's exposed flank. A sickening crack echoed through the clearing as the rib cage shattered instantly beneath the blow.

"ROOOAAAR!"

The bear bellowed in agony.

"Quiet down. We live in the same neighborhood—let's observe some basic etiquette."

Stepping in, Ivan snapped a vicious right hook squarely into the creature's jaw. The bear's massive bulk went completely limp like a puppet with severed strings, collapsing into the snow with a dull thud. Dead before it hit the ground.

A splendid haul right out of the gate. A carcass of this size would keep his larder stocked for days. Ivan smiled in quiet satisfaction, relishing the lingering thrill vibrating through his knuckles.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Loud applause rang out from right behind his shoulder.

"Fine work, young man."

Ivan flinched, spinning around to find the old man standing casually behind him.

I sprinted here at full throttle—how the hell did he keep up? No, more importantly, how long has he been standing there?

Worse, the old man wasn't even breathing hard. Not a single bead of sweat dampened his brow. Ivan's expression hardened.

"Plenty of strength, and your speed is decent enough. With that kind of raw physique, I suppose you've earned the right to strut around with your chin up. There is one minor problem, but for a lad your age, you're doing remarkably well."

There was a barbed edge tucked inside that compliment, and Ivan bristled at the condescension.

"A minor problem? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ah, pay me no mind. Forgive me. That's the trouble with getting old—the mouth runs faster than the brain. Forget I said anything."

The old man waved a dismissive hand, trying to deflect, but Ivan had no intention of letting it slide.

"Not at all, elder. Please, enlighten this ignorant youngster. What exactly am I lacking in your esteemed eyes?"

"Well, now... are you sure you want to hear it? I wouldn't want to go bruising your fragile pride."

"I assure you, my pride is intact. I will etch your wisdom into my very heart."

"If you insist that much, far be it from me to hold back. But remember, it's just the rambling of an old codger, so don't take it too hard."

The old man's face settled into an expression of deadpan seriousness.

"Looking at you, you rely entirely on brute physical force and think you're invincible. Carry on acting cocky like that, and you're bound to catch a blade between your ribs and die in a ditch somewhere."

"...Excuse me?"

Did Ivan hear that correctly? He stared at the old man in disbelief.

"When I was your age, I thought nothing in this world could touch me either. Looking back, I was nothing more than an insufferable, wet-behind-the-ears brat. Exactly like you."

The old man smirked, his gaze locking with Ivan's. It was an unmistakable, deliberate provocation.

"Oh dear, look at those eyes. Thought you weren't going to take it to heart, but you're shooting daggers. What, are you going to throw a punch at an old man now?"

Watching that slippery, infuriating grin spread across the wrinkled face, Ivan smiled right back.

"Perish the thought. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I've taken your precious lesson deeply to heart. But my comprehension has always been a bit slow... If it wouldn't trouble you, elder, perhaps you could grant me a lesson in person? With our bodies?"

The old man's eyes widened slightly before he erupted into hearty, booming laughter.

"Bwahaha! Look ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at you putting on airs when all you wanted from the start was a brawl!"

"If you're frightened, there's no need to push yourself. At your age, broken bones don't mend so easily."

"Hah! Right then. Let's start by beating some manners into that cheeky mouth of yours."

Ivan rolled his shoulders and tilted his neck until the joints popped with a dull crack. He talked tough, but he had no intention of going all out against a senior citizen. A blow that could crush a bear's skull would turn an ordinary human into paste.

...He won't die from just this much, right?

Pulling back the vast majority of his power, Ivan threw a casual jab aimed squarely at the old man's cheek.

Smack.

Without breaking a sweat, the old man raised a calloused palm and snatched Ivan's incoming fist out of the air.

"Look at this cheeky little shit. You're holding back against me?"

"Huh?"

Before Ivan could process the sheer shock of having his punch caught barehanded, the old man's counterpunch slammed into his ribs.