In the morning, Grandpa woke me up, and we had breakfast together. The routine already felt remarkably natural, as if I had been living as his guest for weeks rather than just a single day. Grandpa Tariq seemed to be in a much better mood as he watched me prepare to head out, perhaps relieved to see that I was eager to contribute to the village's survival.

  “Be careful on the hunt,” he warned me as I stood at the door, adjusting the straps of my leather armor. “You don’t have your memories, so even if you were a warrior before, that was all in the past. Treat every beast as if it is your first. The woods do not care about who you used to be; they only care about how you fight right now.”

  “Okay. I will be careful. See you at dinner, Grandpa,” I said with a confident smile.

  The village was still early in the grip of dawn, with only a few early risers moving through the dirt paths. The air was crisp and carried the scent of woodsmoke and morning dew. When I reached the village center, I spotted a group of men gathered near a stone well, chatting animatedly. As I approached, a cold realization struck me: I couldn't understand a single word they were saying. They were speaking a local dialect that sounded like a series of harsh, gutteral clicks and long vowels.

  Damn it! I forgot that most villagers don't speak the Common language, I cursed internally. Grandpa hadn't mentioned it, likely because he spoke both so easily that he forgot the barrier existed for others. I hoped at least one person in the group could communicate, or this was going to be a very quiet and dangerous day.

  As I walked into their circle, one of the men noticed me and looked at me dumbfounded. Soon, all six were staring in my direction, their eyes scanning my iron sword and shield with a mix of curiosity and wariness. I quickly used my skill to gauge their standing.

  ***

  Rashmund

  Race: Human

  Sex: Male

  Status: Normal

  Equipment:

  One-handed Copper Sword

  Leather Footwears

  Job: Villager Lvl 15

  ***

  ***

  Nasric

  Race: Human

  Sex: Male

  Status: Normal

  Equipment:

  One-handed Copper Sword

  Leather Footwears

  Job: Villager Lvl 16

  ***

  ***

  Harounik

  Race: Human

  Sex: Male

  Status: Normal

  Equipment:

  Copper Short Spear

  Leather Footwears○

  Job: Villager Lvl 14

  ***

  It was clear they hadn't been expecting me at all. They looked at each other and then back at me, murmuring in their dialect. I waved to them awkwardly, and the man named Harounik waved back tentatively. I tried to introduce myself, but his confused expression confirmed he lacked any grasp of the Common tongue.

  “Hello, I am Han. The village chief sent me here to join you. Can I accompany you on the hunt today?” I said, trying to enunciate every syllable clearly.

  Harounik looked at the others with a worried gaze, then turned back to me. “Helo, I ma Harounik,” he replied, the words thick and poorly pronounced, as if he were repeating a phrase he had only heard a few times.

  I resorted to hand gestures, pointing at my sword, then at myself, and finally toward the distant forest. Fortunately, the universal language of "I want to help kill things" seemed to get through. They gestured for me to wait, pointing toward the main village gate.

  After a few minutes, a new figure approached the group from the direction of the guardhouse.

  ***

  Othrik

  Race: Human

  Sex: Male

  Status: Normal

  Equipment:

  One-handed Iron Sword

  Middle-scale Wooden Shield

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Leather Jacket○

  Leather Footwears

  Leather Gloves

  Job: Watchman Lvl 12

  ***

  Unlike the others, Othrik was a watchman, and his gear reflected a higher status and a life of combat. He had reddish-brown hair and sharp, intelligent dark eyes, and he looked much better groomed than the farmers. When he saw me, he looked surprised but quickly offered a gentle, welcoming smile.

  “Hi, you are that adventurer who lost his memories, right?” he asked in clear, fluent Common.

  “Oh, yes, I am! Can you speak Common?” I asked with a massive burst of relief.

  “Yes,” he said, letting out a short laugh. “I am a watchman; it would be troublesome if we couldn't speak to travelers or merchants. Are you here to join the hunt?”

  “Yes. Grandpa Tariq said it would be good if I could help you guys. I want to earn my keep while I'm staying here.”

  “It's okay if you want to come along,” Othrik said, nodding to the other men. “The chief mentioned it, but we already have six people in our party, so we can’t officially take you into the group. Are you okay with just observing and helping on the side?”

  “By the way, 'party'? What is that exactly?” I asked, curious about how the term was used in this world.

  Othrik looked at me as if I had two heads before remembering my condition. “Ah, right. Your memory. A party is a group that works together under a formal contract or agreement. If you form one, you can grow stronger together. Being in a party generally gives part of your job's bonuses to the other members, which increases everyone's survivability. It's how we stay safe in the wild.”

  So jobs give bonuses and people can share them, I noted. It really is a literal system that people understand and use.

  “I understand,” I replied. “I'll just come along and watch. If I see a chance to butt in and help out, I will.”

  The group prepared to depart. I watched with fascination as they performed what looked like a verbal ritual to finalize their coordination.

  “Form a party!” Othrik commanded with a sharp voice. “I accept!” the others replied in sequence, their voices steady.

  It looked exactly like a game notification coming to life. It seemed I wasn't the only one who could interact with these interfaces; the only difference was likely the 'Player Window' I had purchased, which gave me more detailed data.

  Othrik took the lead as we entered the forest. The area near the village was sparse and well-trodden, but as we delved deeper, the greenery became a dense labyrinth. Spiny bushes snagged at our clothes, and massive, old trees with roots that protruded like stone ribs from the ground made the footing treacherous. I kept my shield up, my "Sense" on high alert.

  “I found a grey wolf track. It goes toward the west,” one of the members shouted, pointing to a disturbed patch of earth and a few tufts of fur.

  Othrik directed them to follow the trace. We moved silently, the air growing colder under the thick canopy. Soon, we spotted three Grey Wolves lurking in a small clearing.

  ***

  Race: Grey Wolf

  Sex: Male

  Status: Normal

  Level 5

  ***

  ***

  Race: Grey Wolf

  Sex: Female

  Status: Normal

  Level 4

  ***

  ***

  Race: Grey Wolf

  Sex: Male

  Status: Normal

  Level 7

  ***

  The hunt was surgical and professional. Othrik charged forward first, using his shield to draw their attention and absorb their initial lunges. The others encircled them with practiced movements, their copper swords and spears flashing in the dim light. The wolves were quickly overwhelmed, squealing in pain as they were defeated without a single member of the party taking even a scratch.

  They dissected the corpses with speed, taking the valuable skins and teeth. I noticed they stayed cautious, their eyes constantly darting to the treeline; the thick, metallic smell of blood filled the air, and in these woods, that was an invitation to every predator nearby. We moved quickly, finding two more groups of wolves shortly after. The party started calling me a "good luck charm" in their dialect because the hunt was going more smoothly than usual.

  But half an hour later, that good luck balanced itself out in the most terrifying way.

  ***

  Race: Brown Bear

  Sex: Male

  Status: Bloodlust

  Level 15

  ***

  ***

  Race: Brown Bear

  Sex: Female

  Status: Bloodlust

  Level 12

  ***

  Two massive brown bears emerged from the brush with startling speed, likely drawn by the smell of our previous kills. Their eyes were filled with a frenzied greed, and thick saliva drooled from their mouths as they looked at the wolf corpses and then at us.

  “Everyone! Take formation!” Othrik shouted, jumping up from where he had been resting. “Quick, gather around me! Don't let them break the line!”

  The party readied their weapons, but I could see the visible anxiety in their trembling hands. These weren't Level 5 wolves; these were powerhouses.

  “Han! Stay behind us!” Othrik ordered, his voice strained. “Brown bears are fierce and won't stop until they've crushed you. Just help if you see anyone in a tight situation!”

  The bears charged with a deafening roar that seemed to vibrate in my very chest. Othrik managed to intercept the Level 15 bear, bracing himself behind his shield as the beast's claws slammed against the wood. Meanwhile, Harounik and the others struggled to hold the female bear back. Harounik tried to keep his distance with his spear, but the bear swiped the weapon aside and lunged forward. Harounik lost his balance and fell backward, his eyes wide with terror as the bear hovered over him.

  I realized I couldn't wait any longer. I dashed toward them, my feet moving with a speed I hadn't known I possessed. The bear was so focused on the fallen Harounik that it didn't even notice me until I was right on top of it. As it opened its maw to bite down on Harounik’s shoulder, I seized the opening. I didn't swing; I thrust. I drove my iron sword deep into its open mouth, aiming upward.

  The steel reached the brain instantly. The bear's body underwent a sudden, violent spasm, and it collapsed to the side, stone dead before it hit the ground. Moments later, Othrik and the others managed to finish off the male bear, though they were panting heavily.

  “You thank, Han,” Harounik said, standing up and dusting himself off with shaking hands. His Common was poor, but the genuine gratitude in his eyes was unmistakable.

  “It’s nothing. Are you okay? You almost became a snack,” I asked, my own heart finally slowing down.

  “I ma okay,” he replied with a shaky nod.

  Othrik approached us, wiping blood from his sword. His face was full of genuine praise. “Good job, Han. Honestly, I expected injuries or even death for one of us today, but you intervened just in time. I thank you for that on behalf of everyone here.”

  He talked to the other villagers for a few seconds, translating their excited chatter. “They say you were incredibly fast and strong. You killed a Level 12 bear with a single strike! They think you must be an experienced fighter who just hasn't realized it yet.”

  It seems increasing my Strength and Agility during the customization was definitely the right move, I thought with immense satisfaction.

  “Thanks for the praise,” I said modestly. “As I told the chief, I feel like I remember how to fight, even if I don't remember the actual training.”

  “Being strong is the only thing that matters in the wilderness,” Othrik said with a grin, slapping me on the shoulder. “Let’s dissect these bears and leave before the smell draws a pack of Orcs or something worse. I’m tired and hungry, but safety comes first.”

  We collected the pelts and meat as fast as we could and left the area. My first real fight in this world was over, and I had proven I could survive.

  [Edited]