Reborn as a Monster with the Multiplier System

Chapter 3 — The Scent of Smoke Beyond the Brush

The sickening crunch of hollow bones blended with the rustle of dry leaves. Ren squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his tiny jaws to work through the last scraps of the spiritual sparrow's meat.

Fresh blood stained the snow-white fur around his snout. A sharp, metallic tang flooded his mouth, making his stomach churn in violent protest. Gritting his teeth, he forced the jagged lump down his throat.

'Disgusting,' his mind screamed.

Ever since he had awakened in the body of this spiritual white tiger cub, hunting had become an absolute necessity. That unfortunate sparrow was the tenth prey he’d managed to ambush.

His human mind vehemently rejected the very idea of tearing into raw flesh, let alone swallowing it down with feathers and bone.

Yet, every time hesitation crept in, the agonizing hunger gnawing at his belly and the primal instincts of his new body seized control. He only managed to suppress his disgust because nature demanded survival.

After choking down the final bite, Ren dragged his paws toward the nearest muddy puddle. He stuck out his pink tongue, lapping at the water to wash the lingering blood from his snout and claws.

As he stared at his reflection in the murky puddle, his round ears twitched, hyper-aware of every rustle and snap echoing from the depths of the Thousand Monster Forest.

Beneath his clear, bright eyes lay a deep-seated terror. He wasn't afraid of starving to death. His greatest fear was losing his mind.

'What if my human consciousness completely erodes one day? What if I end up as a mindless beast, just like the frenzied monsters out there?'

The mere thought sent a shudder down his spine. Over the past three days, he had nearly crossed paths with high-tier predators more times than he cared to count.

Once, a bear the size of a small hill had lumbered past, scarcely five meters from his hiding spot. Ren had only survived because he possessed the human presence of mind to flatten himself beneath a tree root, holding his breath until his lungs were ready to burst.

Besides, his current size, no bigger than a domestic kitten, offered its own twisted advantage. A morsel this small wouldn’t even be enough to pick the teeth of those giant predators. They simply didn’t see him as a worthwhile source of nutrition.

Still, being utterly powerless left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Suddenly, a translucent, silvery-blue screen flickered across his retina.

Name: Ren Arka

Race: Spiritual White Tiger

Tier: 1 [10%]

Multiplier System: 10x

Skills:

- Sharp Claws

Ren let out a long sigh, sending tiny ripples and bubbles across the water's surface. Ten monsters. Ten grueling hunts, including the sparrow just now, and it had only pushed his experience bar to a measly ten percent.

'What kind of progression is this?' he grumbled inwardly. 'Even with a ten-times multiplier system, my growth is at a snail's pace. If only a high-tier monster would get struck by lightning and drop dead right in front of me... now that would be some luck.'

Ren was just about to turn away to find a safe place to sleep when the afternoon breeze suddenly shifted. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His tiny nose twitched.

It wasn't the metallic stench of blood. Nor was it the earthy scent of damp soil or rotting leaves.

It was the savory aroma of rendering fat, blending flawlessly with the mouthwatering scent of perfectly roasted meat.

*Grumble...*

The loud protest from his stomach was downright humiliating, a stark contrast to the supposed majesty of a tiger.

Three full days of chewing tough, gamey raw meat shattered his mental defenses in an instant. The tantalizing aroma bypassed his logic and struck directly at his nervous system.

Abandoning all the caution he had painstakingly built, Ren dashed through the underbrush. His four little legs leaped nimbly over thick, sprawling roots. His eyes widened to their absolute limits as he parted the final veil of ferns.

There, in the center of a small clearing, lay a medium-sized spiritual sheep. Its skin was roasted to a crisp, golden brown, sizzling faintly as it let off trails of piping hot steam.

It looked as though it had just been pulled from the finest hearth in the world.

His human reason screamed that this made absolutely no sense. A savage, untamed forest didn't just casually offer up ready-to-eat roasted mutton.

But the moment a single drop of savory fat slid down the sheep’s thigh and sizzled against the soil, the last thread of Ren's sanity snapped. His starving instincts completely took over.

The white tiger cub lunged forward, sinking his baby teeth deep into the tender, succulent meat, entirely unaware that this luxurious feast had been deliberately placed there by a truly terrifying existence.

To be continued...