“Riiip, riiip!”

“Glug-glug, crunch-crunch.”

The wet tear of flesh from bone scraped the air like a dull saw chewing through silk.

A squat monster gnawed a lifeless male corpse, the swallow and bone-crack unspooling like a grisly hymn under a blood-red sky.

It ate like a guest at a banquet, greed a black hole sucking down everything in reach.

Each bite flung a fan of bloodwater, red droplets spattering the floor like rain in a storm.

The iron tang thickened, rolling out like fog from a slaughterhouse door.

That stink whipped its bloodlust; it fed faster, movements brutal as a rabid wolf shaking prey.

Not far off, Nana Toki hid behind it by a few dozen meters, eyes wide, heart pounding like a drum in a tight chest.

Her nerves were tough, but this primal feeding slammed into her vision like a thunderclap tearing open night.

WTF...

What kind of cursed realm has Corpse Devourers crawling around?

Trash System, get out here and take a beating.

Trash System: “...” If I stay quiet, the host won’t notice me. Totally legit.

This has to be a straight-up magic world, right?

She hollered in her head a few more times and got nothing; she peeked at the still-feeding monster, then shrank back like a rabbit into brush.

Yes. She would leave first, like a kite slipping the string before the wind shifts.

As a refined soul destined to guard world peace, Nana Toki does not have the habit of spying on someone’s mealtime, even if the “someone” is a Corpse Devourer gnawing bones like a dog.

Call her cowardly? Her heart kicked—life matters; a bright future needs a beating pulse.

Run, run. No more talk. This girl is out—respectfully.

“Crack...”

She lifted a foot to step, and behind her the feeding sound cut off like a string snapped on a zither.

Around the corner, an icy omen shot up her skull like cold moonlight knifing through clouds.

Discovered?!

No time to think; the instant the chewing stopped, Nana bolted, feet drumming the tiles like rain on a tin roof.

“ROAR—!”

The answer slammed her ears, a thunderclap that made her eardrums burn like they’d been lit.

Damn, this is cursed!

The Corpse Devourer abandoned its leftovers, snapping jaws like a gate from hell as it lunged after her.

Nana, sprinting ahead, felt shock bloom like frost on glass—how did this freak sense me?

She flipped through a resident’s window, sprinting hard, glancing back like a deer checking the treeline for a shadow.

See if the freak got dropped by her footwork, like a stone falling behind in a river’s rush.

But she had underestimated its speed; it moved like a boulder rolling downhill.

“BOOM!”

A wall exploded behind her, dust billowing like a sandstorm; the monster tore through, maw gaping, hurtling on all fours like a boar gone mad.

It chased with a vow carved in bone: it wouldn’t stop till the catch was in its jaws.

For crying out loud, am I a lifeline? Why stick to me like a shadow at noon?

Its speed matched hers like twin streaks on a track; the gap tightened, inch by inch, like a net closing on a fish.

Nana’s jaw dropped—how is this even fair? The world turned into a bad joke written in blood.

She cut a corner, sprinting toward a commercial street lit like a dried-out carnival, neon dull and old.

After a few quick turns, she slipped into a supermarket, tucking herself behind a counter like a mouse under a beam.

“Huff, huff, huff—”

Her breath tore out heavy, body limp like a kite that lost the wind.

This body’s fitness was trash, worse than her last world’s shell—flimsy as paper armor in a rainstorm.

Another few dozen meters and she’d be hitting a wall, lungs burning like hot coal.

She slumped, strangling her breathing down to a whisper, ears pricked like a cat in tall grass.

That monster had sensed her footsteps across distance like a wolf hearing a leaf fall—she hadn’t seen that coming.

But now… she should have shaken it, like a tail shed in a thicket’s weave.

In a corner shadow, Nana peeked through the aisles, eyes sweeping like a lantern beam across empty shelves.

Confirming no one else near, she let a breath out like steam from a kettle, tension sliding from her shoulders.

Gone… finally gone.

Her gaze snagged on a counter, a pile of little snacks glinting like treasure in low light; she snagged a bag of spicy strips and tore it open.

All the blame—trash System. I’m in this mess because of that junk heap; how about a real-time complaint module, huh?

System: “...”

Chewing a spicy strip, Nana cursed the System like tossing pebbles at a mangy dog under a moonless sky.

“Drip... drip...”

A cool touch pattered onto her head, beads of water like dew falling from a leaf.

“Hm? Is there a leak up there?”

She wiped her cheek with her sleeve, still chewing, and tilted her chin, eyes lifting like a shutter sliding open.

Then she saw it: a bulky, ugly monster hanging from the ceiling like a bloated bat, maw open, staring straight down at her.

Its teeth were knives slick with drool, stench rolling out like rotten swamp air.

Nana Toki: “...”

“Plop.”

The spicy strips fell from her fingers, scattering like red twigs on tile.

Her gut sank, cold as winter river water—lamb into tiger’s den, straight and simple.

Send one away, and the next arrives like a storm front chasing the last squall.

She swallowed the half strip stuck in her mouth; time froze between them like frost sealing over a pond.

You looked at me; I looked at you—two lanterns staring across a black alley.

Big eyes, small eyes; the air warped weird, like smoke twisting from incense.

“ROAR!!!”

The ceiling monster yielded to hunger, dropped like a hammer, jaws lunging at Nana’s throat.

“Shit!”

Huge body, frightening speed—a thunderbolt wrapped in fat; her muscles snapped into motion, a forward roll slick as a snake under a rock.

If she hadn’t moved, her head would’ve been a ripe fruit in its mouth, bitten clean like an apple.

“Roar, roar, roar!”

It missed, fury flaring like oil on flame; a low growl dragged across tile, then another lunge, and another, claws like scythes.

Nana: “...”

Are you sick?

She scrambled up, legs shaky as reeds, dodging strikes that sliced the air like cold wind.

“Crash, crash!”

Counters shattered, snacks, fruit, sauces splattering the floor like a spilled carnival—acrid stings rising like smoke from chili oil.

In moments, the supermarket turned into a battlefield—shelving snapped, labels torn, aisles gutted like a carcass.

“Die for me!”

Annoyance sparked like flint; after slipping past another pounce, she whipped a sharp kitchen knife from her pocket—who knows how it got there—and drove it into its forehead like a nail in wood.

“Yowl!!!”

Steel bit bone; pain ripped a howl from its throat, vibrations jolting her grip so hard she staggered back like a wave pushed her.

“Still screaming?”

She snatched a fistful of chili powder and ground it into its wound and eyes, hot dust like wildfire poured straight into night.

“Yowl!”

Blinded and burning, it thrashed, rolling on the floor like a gator in a trap, rage cracking tiles and tearing shelves.

The wreckage spread; snacks were pulverized, and a hole gaped in the wall like a torn curtain.

It wasn’t dead yet; Nana rushed in, yanked the knife from its skull with a wet suck, then stabbed its neck, blade sliding like a cold comet.

“Roar, roar, roar, roar!”

Green blood fountained out, a ghastly spring painting the floor with sickly rain.

The monster bucked like a spooked horse, rolling and roaring, twisting like a rope in a storm, its fury unbound and feral.