The Setup

In the faint gray fog, Lumian woke up. He rolled out of bed at once, headed straight for the window, and looked outside. As usual, the mountain formed of brownish-red stone and reddish-brown earth stood silently upon the wilderness. Though only twenty or thirty meters high, it gave an impression of piercing the clouds and connecting with the sky, so much so that Lumian instinctively used the word "mountain" to describe it. At its foot, collapsed buildings in various states of ruin formed concentric rings across the wilderness, extending outward layer upon layer. "From its physical structure, that monster carrying a hunting rifle is definitely good at running and jumping. At the same time, it possesses a certain level of intelligence, able to use a relatively complex weapon like a hunting rifle... "It has exceptionally strong tracking abilities... "It's unclear whether it possesses supernatural powers like Aurore... "..." All sorts of details about his target surfaced in Lumian's mind. His initial assessment was that if he faced the monster carrying the hunting rifle head-on, the probability of being killed was as high as ninety percent. If he tried to exploit his own peculiarity, he would die even faster—because once he entered meditation, he could drive himself to the brink of death, and the enemy would only need a simple strike to reap his life. Besides being unable to fight head-on, an ambush assassination was also out of the question for Lumian. First, given the tracking ability the creature had shown, he probably couldn't truly conceal himself, making a sneak attack impossible. Second, he lacked any ranged weapon; if he had even a revolver, he wouldn't be in such a bind now. Over the past two days, Lumian had pondered over and over how to deal with that monster, and in the end, he could only think of one way: Use traps! He had once ventured deep into the mountains with the village hunters and learned how to set simple traps, later honing those skills in a few practical jokes. Lumian had originally thought of using the oil at home. For example, he could put it in a large lidless bucket, place it high up in a concealed spot, tie it with a rope, and the moment the target arrived, pull the rope to overturn the bucket, dousing the creature in oil before hurling a lit torch. Yet after weighing it carefully, he abandoned the idea. Given that the monster had demonstrated strong tracking abilities, he had to err on the side of vastly overestimating its sense of smell! The smell of oil was fairly obvious. And if he masked it with another strong scent, Lumian wasn't sure if the creature would change its tactics, or whether, like a wild dog, it could distinguish even the subtlest anomaly. In the end, he chose to dig a deep pit and plant sharp stakes. This also had its issues: given the creature's demonstrated tracking skills, there was a fair chance it would notice something amiss in advance and see through the trap. Lumian's countermeasure was to find a way to lower its guard and exploit blind spots in its thinking. Simply put, he could only hope to outsmart the creature—making full use of his greatest advantage as a human when even his weapons were inferior to his target's. "At least from last time, it has some intelligence, but not too much..." Lumian comforted himself inwardly. Naturally, he wouldn't underestimate the monster because of that; he planned to formulate his scheme by assuming its intelligence was on par with a normal human. The benchmark he chose was Pons Bénet. "No, that guy is too stupid. If he didn't have so many thugs, I would've made him kneel and call me daddy long ago." Lumian thought about it and prudently adjusted his estimate of the monster upward. "Mm, treat it as an uneducated parish priest." He looked out the window once more, his gaze resting on the wilderness between his home and the ruins. This place was closer to the "safe zone," making it the safest for him, but it lacked cover and offered an unobstructed view—thoroughly unsuitable for an ambush. "Digging a trap is fine, but if I use myself as bait, it'll see me from far away and just shoot me down without coming any closer..." Lumian muttered to himself, deciding to take the risk of entering the ruins and finding a suitable spot there to set his trap. The plan, already drafted in his mind, quickly took shape, with only one final point left to address: Digging a deep pit and planting sharp stakes took a lot of time, and Lumian couldn't order his enemy to wait until he was finished before showing up. After some thought, Lumian spread his arms, assuming the posture of "embracing the sun," and prayed more devoutly than ever before: "My God, my Father, please watch over me and help me finish off that monster. "Praise the sun!" In this world, hardly anything was a hundred percent certain. Hesitating no longer, Lumian carried his steel fork and axe out of the bedroom and into the study. Considering the target's weapon, he decided to switch his "protective gear." Lumian took off his padded jacket and used rope to tie hardback books to his chest and back. This was makeshift "paper armor"! Faintly, he recalled his sister once mentioning that this could lead to internal injuries or something, but he couldn't afford to worry about that now. Lumian moved his limbs to ensure that the number of books wouldn't hinder his combat too much. He put his leather jacket back on over them and went all the way down to the ground floor, rummaging for materials he might need to set the traps. Before long, he had a shovel in hand and a coil of rope at his waist—the latter meant partly for climbing, and partly for weaving a rope net to replace tree branches. Having completed his preparations, Lumian took a deep breath and opened the front door with his right hand, which held the iron axe. Faint gray fog drifted across the wilderness. Step by step, he walked toward the mountain that seemed stained with the color of blood. Amid the dead silence, Lumian reached the edge of the ruins. He first veered off to the side for a stretch, tossed the shovel, steel fork, rope, and other gear into a shadowy corner of a collapsed building, and then returned with only his axe to the spot where he had previously entered the ruins. He began his exploration without doing anything unusual, stealthily venturing into the depths of the ruins as slowly as last time. Upon reaching the spot where he had been frightened off by the three-faced monster, he lingered for nearly a minute before turning back. Halfway back, he began to detour toward the collapsed house where he had stashed the shovel and steel fork. As he drew near his destination, Lumian began observing the terrain, looking for a suitable spot to set the trap. "There's a fissure here that's rather wide and not too long. A few modifications will make it a fine trap and save me a good deal of time. As for the other one, it might take a while; I can only hope that monster won't track me down so quickly..." Lumian fetched the shovel and the other tools, returned to the chosen spot, and quickly went to work setting the trap. Once the fissure itself was roughly modified, he chopped and sharpened lengths of wood with his axe and set them at the bottom of the pit. Next, he wove a rope net, laid it across the opening, and covered it with a layer of loose earth, making it blend in as closely as possible with the surroundings. Having finished this, he imagined himself as the monster tracking him down and arriving before this trap. "If it notices this trap, it will definitely choose to go around or even leap right over it, landing roughly in this position... "What I need is for it to spot me the moment it reaches this point, but not before. So, I can only hide here..." Lumian paced out the distance with his feet, gauged the direction with his eyes, and slowly walked over to a relatively intact wall. Squatting there, he checked the line of sight. Then, he began digging the second trap. This was an arrangement tailored for a "normal human": When someone tracking a target finds a trap laid out for them, easily detects it, and spots the ambushing enemy right nearby, they will most likely grow smug and impatient, overlooking the possibility of a second trap and charging recklessly toward their prey. Someone of ordinary intelligence could easily fall into such a thinking trap—or rather, a blind spot. Lumian could only hope the monster fell short of average human intelligence, for otherwise he would have no choice but to turn and flee, with a high chance of being run down and dying somewhere in the wilderness, and only a slim chance of escaping back home to the "safe zone." The anomalies in Cordu Village were forcing him to risk his life. As minutes and seconds ticked by, Lumian finally finished the second trap, and the monster carrying the hunting rifle had yet to appear. The other monsters were nowhere to be seen either. At last, he could breathe a little easier. After hiding the shovel and other items, he stood straight and spread his arms. "Praise the sun!" This time, he was even more sincere. Lumian then pulled back against the wall, half-squatting on the ground, keeping his eyes on the first trap. This spot couldn't be seen from the direction he had come from, blocked from view by a completely collapsed building. He waited patiently. Thump, thump, thump... Lumian could clearly feel his heart rate accelerating. For him, this was an unprecedented experience. Back when he was a vagrant, he had faced "enemies" who were older and physically stronger than him, but neither side aimed to kill; it was mainly about fighting over food, money, and a decent place to sleep. Even if someone actually died in the process, it was considered an accident. Now, however, the enemy he was about to face was a monster bound by neither human law nor morality, far stronger than him and possibly possessing a few supernatural abilities. If anything went awry with his plan, his fate would be easily imagined. Thump, thump, thump... Inevitably, Lumian was on high alert, his nerves strained to the limit. Nobody wanted to throw away their life, and he was no exception. Inhale, exhale... Inhale, exhale... Lumian took deep breaths to steady his frayed nerves. Yet this seemed to have little effect. For a moment, he found himself wishing the monster would come quickly, yet dreading its actual arrival. The former was because it would bring an end to the ordeal sooner—win or lose, at least he wouldn't have to stay so agonizingly tense, on the verge of breaking down—while the latter was sheer fear. Seeing that his condition would only worsen if this continued, he told himself, "This is so I won't burden Aurore," and attempted to meditate. The crimson sun was harder to outline than before, but with Lumian's effort, it finally emerged. This calmed him down considerably, though a faint tremor still ran through his body. Just then, he heard a faint sound. It was as though beyond his line of sight lay a pasture, and a shepherd was tiptoeing closer.