The forest night was slightly chilly, the sound of rustling leaves weaving a perfect lullaby.

  I dreamt of an infinite, calm lake under a bright blue sky, birds and crickets stitching together a soothing atmosphere. I held a fishing rod, staring at the water’s edge. I quickly realized it was a dream—I’d never fished in my life, never even touched a rod—but I let it play out.

  “Son, how are you?”

  A rough, powerful voice I hadn’t heard in a week. My eyes stung, my nose ran, and when I turned left, there he was: my father. Sitting on a folding chair in plain jeans, steel-toe boots, and a worn-out T-shirt. Playful eyes. Gentle smile.

  “Not so great, Dad…” I fought to keep my voice steady, forcing the dam in my eyes to hold.

  “I feel ashamed that you’ll know about my pathetic death. I know how much you hated my drinking, and…” My words trailed off; guilt kept me from continuing.

  “Son, you were always brilliant,” he chuckled, casting his line, “but by the Lord, you made the stupidest choices.”

  That little roast cracked the dam. Tears streamed as I cried in silence.

  “I can’t know what the real me thinks. I’m just the me you believe I am. But no matter what you did—no matter how stupid—the real me will always love you.”

  He glanced at me with that same faint smile, then returned his gaze to the rod.

  “Aren’t you a little too aware?” I chuckled, wiping away my tears.

  “That’s your fault, son.” He let out a big, goofy laugh.

  “Thank you, dream-dad. But still, I—”

  A pale, delicate hand with black, claw-like nails pressed over my mouth.

  “Frank~ I’ll let my father-in-law know you made it to ‘heaven.’ Don’t be a crybaby~.”

  Helena’s small frame pressed against my back. I caught her wrist, yanked, and swung her around onto my lap.

  “Really? Am I so mentally weak I even manifested you?” I couldn’t deny her presence—her pitch-black eyes had a strange, soothing pull.

  “You are~!” She traced a line down my chest, stopping with her fingers right over my heart.

  “But it’s the real me~.”

  Her hand sank through flesh and bone, squeezing my heart directly. I winced, but a beat later she was already pulling it back, dripping with blood.

  “Mmm~ your body remembers me well~.” She purred, smearing the blood across my cheek before curling up on my lap like a nightmarish cat.

  “Helena, please—not in front of my dream dad.”

  Embarrassment flushed through me; for all my bravado, I regressed into a shy kid with him watching.

  “Man up, son. Don’t go getting all whiny at your age.” He set down his fishing rod, stood, and turned toward me.

  “I know your love for unstable women. This one looks like your biggest score—or your biggest mistake yet.”

  His eyes softened, warm with pride.

  “Get me a grandson. Even if it isn’t in our world, the real me always wanted you to carry on the bloodline.”

  “Oh my~ should I help with that~?” Helena giggled and kicked her legs.

  “Shush!” I tried to cover her mouth, just to get my hand bitten.

  “Son, you must heed my words this time.”

  He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds until—

  A pillar of light engulfed him. His clothes turned into neat dress pants and a long-sleeved formal shirt—what I called his Preacher outfit.

  “Son, just as I always told you: the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” He began to be swallowed by the light.

  “I will try to heed your words this time,” I nodded solemnly.

  “Given your peculiar situation, let me add a couple more.”

  The light felt warm—calming.

  “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.”

  Helena stayed quiet, snuggling close as my father spoke.

  “Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and He will establish your plans.”

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Those were the last words my heart needed—served with an extra helping of roasting.

  “Be strong, son. You were a screw-up, yet still my pride! Second to your sister—that’s it! HAHAHA!”

  “You only had two kids!” I shot back, half-smiling through teary eyes.

  I stared into the pillar of light even after it was long gone—until Helena’s living hair began to snare and tug at my ears, pulling me back to her whims.

  “Weren’t you locked out for six months, you lying gremlin?” I pinched her cheek lightly. Her cold skin was addictive.

  “Well, I came to congratulate you~ I never expected fresh souls within a day… or even half a day~!”

  She manifested two souls in front of us, both looking like they were peacefully asleep.

  “Couldn’t you have waited for my dream dad to vanish first?!” Without noticing, I started caressing her cheek, then traced a line around her ear.

  “Aw~ don’t be such a baby~.” She placed her hand on top of mine, then half-closed her eyes.

  “I only have, like, thirty seconds left, and then I go poof~ for a while~.”

  “Yeah, sure. You just want me heartbroken, crying over your absence. I won’t believe it twice.” I pinched her earlobe as punishment.

  “But of course~ it was fun seeing you beg for hellfire to start the fire~.” She threw her arms up and cradled my head, mocking the single time I’d prayed to her.

  “As a reward for an unbelievably fast first sacrifice, I’ll give you a piece of advice~ Read the book Hexamalius gave you~.” Her figure began to flicker. “Oh my, time’s up~!”

  She started turning into slithering, rotten hair from the feet up. Taking advantage of the moment, I held her head and leaned in for a kiss.

  She seemed amused—and blocked it by biting and ripping a chunk of my lips. The sharp pain jolted me halfway awake, destabilizing the dream.

  “No no~,” she cooed, turning completely into hair. It slithered into the chest wound.

  “You little shit…” I chuckled, patting my chest and engraving it into the payback notebook.

  The dream began to collapse, everything blurring into a smeared mess. I closed my eyes in-dream, then opened them into reality. The first thing I checked was my chest and lips—both unharmed.

  Except there was fresh blood where the wounds should be.

  “What the fuck? Did you really my chest and my lips? What a nasty girl.”

  I got up and stretched my legs, trying to get my system up and running. Then I started toward Breakfall Lake, mentally checking my status.

  “Nothing abnormal. [Iron Gut] for the win.”

  I felt so good I wanted to jog—but I wasn’t doing that until I was damn sure there weren’t elves waiting to jump me.

  “ELVES could be here.”

  I stayed alert, even scolding myself for dropping my guard after reading that “safe area” bit in the diary. Trusting randoms is how you get quartered back home.

  After making my best impression of a slow military advance, I reached the lake—small, and clean like no water on Earth. I could see stones and algae at the bottom. Fish drifted around like they owned the place.

  My stomach rumbled at the sight of those slippery, tasty fucks.

  “It’s been ages since I had fish… and I can’t catch them because lol no damage. Fuck.”

  I ignored them and used my racial skill, [Contaminate], to pollute the lake with my filthy hands—or so I thought. The dried blood and fat washed off the instant I dipped my fingers in.

  “HOLY SHIT!”

  A second later I dove in, scraping my fingertips along the bottom. I didn’t care—my filth was gone. Even my pants were spotless.

  I even took Helena’s bag and filled it with water, hoarding the liquid treasure.

  “Helena’s divine artifact should be waterproof, right? Maybe it even keeps the water’s properties…”

  I muttered that while I sank it into the lake.

  “Why the hell am I this hungry? Back home I could go a whole day—sometimes two—on one meal. Is it this new body? …I need meat.”

  I kept staring at the fish, hunger gnawing harder with each passing minute.

  I forced myself to look away and distracted my mind with other thoughts.

  “Will we meet another otherworlder? If so, I should prepare for hostilities.”

  “I hope this water helps Nelson. I can’t lose him.”

  After a long time, the bag finally filled. Its weight didn’t increase, but instead of bothering my head with divine bullshit, I just muttered, “The Lady works in mysterious ways,” and left it at that.

  Back at the encampment, Nelson looked very pale.

  “Did you shit all night?” I asked, genuinely concerned.

  “Frank… I’m dying. What a shitty way to… end my isekai life.” He turned to me, extending a trembling hand.

  ‘If he’s healthy enough to drop shitty puns, he won’t die.’

  I grabbed a cup from the tent and scooped some water. “Here. Drink.”

  “Feed it to me.”

  “Are you that fucked up? Imagine your death report: cause of death—isekai diarrhea.”

  I pressed the cup to his cracked lips anyway. He gulped slowly at first, then sped up like a man possessed.

  “More. Now!” he snapped.

  “Where’s my thanks, ungrateful bitch?”

  I scooped more—eight cups total—until his color finally returned.

  “This water is fucking nice. My stomach’s at peace. Where did you find it?”

  “Noob Lake.” I pointed. “Go take a bath—you smell like literal shit. And try to grab us some fish. I’m starving.”

  “As soon as I take a ten-hour nap.” Nelson staggered into the camp and collapsed.

  “This motherfucker…” I let it slide. Pretty sure he’d had the runs all night.

  My stomach rumbled. I stuffed myself with Manzangos, but I couldn’t fill the void.

  “Damnit, this won’t cut it. I need meat!”

  My body began to tremble, like withdrawal.

  “But I can’t hunt for shit—and I need meat now.”

  I bent forward, one hand on my gut. Full of fruit, still empty. It growled.

  “Need… meat.”

  Then my nose caught it—iron, close.

  I turned. There it was: a big chunk of raw meat. My mouth watered. I grabbed the hunting knife, ready to carve off a piece.

  I staggered over, knelt in front of it, and began deciding where to cut.

  I must eat meat.

  “I blame [Hypocritical Hyena].”

  Whatever the source was.