Logic: White Spider Larva Infection Activated.
Rampage: Black Goat Calf Curse temporarily lifted.
A metallic voice echoed in my mind. The searing pain melted away like ice in fire, and rationality returned. I stood frozen on the snowfield encircled by forest. Pristine white snow stained crimson. Corpse Eater carcasses littered the ground. My claw-like hands—hooked and iron-hard—slowly shrank back into plump toddler palms. The corpse-pale skin gradually flushed with warmth.
I took a tentative step forward. I could walk. *How long was I trapped in that monster’s womb? Why was I born as a two- or three-year-old who could already walk? What even is this body? What did that armored man mean by "hybrid"? Am I monster or human?* And worst of all—I’d confirmed it—the absence of certain anatomy meant I was undeniably *female* now. One cursed twist after another.
But that mechanical voice mentioned I could perform a Self Appraisal. Maybe that’d explain things. I stared at my blood-smeared hands. The gnawing hunger in my gut had vanished. *I must’ve done something horrifying while rampaging… probably ate those Corpse Eaters. Disgusting. Better not dwell on it. Focus. Self Appraisal!*
Like a fool, I raised my hands as if transforming and yelled: “Self Appraisal!”
*Ptoo-ptoo!*
Nearby crows startled, flapping away from the carrion. They perched on branches, eyeing me with avian suspicion. Nothing else happened.
Great. Even birds think I’m insane. I crouched, burying my face in my hands. *Ugh… even the crows pity me.* Just then, strange data flooded my mind. The Self Appraisal *had* worked. At least the humiliation wasn’t wasted. Still crouched, I scanned the information.
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**Race:** Ghoul Hybrid
**Status:** Rampage Cursed Goatling, Logic: White Spider Larva Infection
**Skills:** Great Ghoul Tongue, Self Appraisal
**Trait:** Corpse Eater Devourer
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*That’s it?* Pathetic. The only useful detail: I wasn’t human anymore. I’d become a Ghoul Hybrid. But what *was* a Corpse Eater?
> **Corpse Eater:** A Ghostkind species dwelling in Sylia Forest. Low intelligence. Cold-resistant. The lowest rank among Ghostkind.
Ridiculous. I clearly wasn’t like those mindless horrors—I had *thoughts*. And as a hybrid, shouldn’t I be different? What defined a Ghoul Hybrid?
> **Ghoul Hybrid:** Offspring of a Corpse Eater and another species.
Useless. What about the two Status effects?
> **Access Denied. Insufficient Clearance.**
*Oh, "insufficient clearance"? Who do you think you are, some elder?* What was Great Ghoul Tongue?
> **Ability to comprehend and speak the Great Ghoul Tongue.**
So those two men spoke it earlier. And the Great Ghost Clan?
> **Beyond Self Appraisal’s scope. Unable to analyze.**
Worthless. And Self Appraisal itself?
> **A rare ability to analyze oneself. Obtained only under extraordinary conditions. One in ten thousand.**
*Still bragging? Shameless.* I already knew the last Trait. No need to relive that nausea.
The big picture clicked: This wasn’t Earth. I’d truly been punched through the dimensional wall by that jumper, dumped into this frozen forest in some twisted world. *Modern jumpers are terrifyingly powerful. Unbelievable. Unbelievable.*
Whatever. I’d bought life insurance back home. Dead was dead. Honestly? I hadn’t wanted to job hunt anyway. Survival first. Waking up as a child in this icy wilderness was hardcore mode from the start. *Jumpers these days have zero mercy. Unbelievable. Unbelievable.*
Right. Priority one: stay alive. Find a human settlement. I tore tattered cloth from a shredded corpse to wrap my body, snatched a small bone suitable for a weapon, and trudged toward the dark, frozen depths of the towering forest.
