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Chapter 10 – Day 9 of Living in the Demonic Land
I built a campfire and spent the night dismantling the king anaconda and the turtle. In the end, I drove a stake into the gap between the king anaconda’s scales and gradually tore its body apart.
Nothing was found in its belly, but a large number of small magic stones were found in its tail. They must have been left over from what the king anaconda had digested.
I put a knife between the skin and the flesh, but I could not cut it. I had no choice but to separate the skin from the flesh.
I cut off the turtle’s limbs, placed some firewood on its belly, and slowly roasted it for about three hours. When it became brittle, I split it open with a stake and removed the contents.
While I was dismantling it, a bug monster, the hell beetle, and a moth monster, the big moth, were attracted by the light of the fire, but I could easily defeat them with my axe.
The scales of the big moth are a paralyzing drug, so I collected them carefully. Combined with the egg mushrooms, I could make a powerful paralyzing drug.
I poured the entrails and blood into the swamp.
Maybe that’s why the carnivorous fish were beating on the surface of the water from midnight until morning. My gloves were stained bright red, and I could smell the blood all over my body.
I drew water from the swamp and washed my body and the shells and snakeskin I had cut out. The shells would make a nice little tent roof. The snakeskin could be used for many things.
For now, I decided to make a breastplate based on P.J.’s armor.
I tasted the meat, and the haze turtle was very tasty, while the king anaconda tasted bland and took quite a while to chew through.
I made several trips back and forth to the house to transport the snakeskin and meat to be smoked. I wish I had some sort of magic circle to cool the meat; maybe it was in P.J.’s notebook.
I cut the fish open and let them dry in the sun.
The king anaconda and the haze turtle magic stone were both large, but I wasn’t really interested in them, so I left them there. I put the haze turtle meat in a pot of water, covered it with a lid, and lit the fire in the hearth.
The sun was already high in the sky.
I sat down on my bed to wait for the soup to be ready, but at once, sleep came over me, and I lost consciousness.
It was almost evening when I awoke. I had been up all night dismantling and must have been exhausted.
In the pot, the turtle soup had become a thick paste. It was only seasoned with salt, but it was incredibly delicious.
After waking up, my body and head felt refreshed. My tiredness was gone. I feel like I can see clearly now.
I did some light stretching and then went to look at the fields.
I found a lot of swimming bird feathers scattered all over the field, and it looked like the bendgrass had eaten them. In fact, the bendgrass seemed to be growing better than yesterday.
Looking at the ground, I saw that some of the shoots had already sprouted.
“What kind of soil is this?”
It seems to be growing awfully fast, but at least it’s going well.
There was nothing special in the traps.
When I went to the place where I did the dismantling last night, I found a huge outbreak of insect-based monsters.
Not only hell beetles and big moths but also vespa hornets of a size I’ve never seen before and a glittering jewel beetle monster (I don’t know its name) were swarming around in the blood spread on the ground.
A hell beetle noticed me and attacked me. I guess the blood made it aggressive.
I easily killed all the insect-like monsters because I knew their fragile parts, such as the gap between their abdomens and chests and their heads. I am not sure how much my level had improved, but at least I was able to capture the movement of the insect monsters.
Not wanting to eat them, I took only the magic stone and threw the rest into the swamp.
Once again, fish fought with each other on the surface, and suddenly, a large whale-like fish swallowed a hell beetle corpse as tall as me in one gulp.
It must have been the boss of the swamp.
I thought I’d try to catch it one day, but I didn’t have enough hook and line to catch the boss yet. It was getting dark.
Would a dead worm be enough bait for fishing?
“Maybe next time I’ll look for a worm monster.”
I wasn’t tired at all, but I went home anyway.
My days and nights were now completely reversed.
While I eat grilled dried fish, I tan snakeskin to make leather.
According to P.J.’s notebook, the king anaconda’s magic stone is effective against magic, and the leather is almost magic-proof.
I honestly don’t think magic will be used in a demonic land, but I guess it’s not a bad thing to have.
The tanned leather is used to make an irregularly shaped breastplate.
For now, it seems to be able to prevent magic from being directed at the heart.
There was still some snakeskin left. The snake was so big that it could have swallowed a giant turtle, so even if it ate me, it wouldn’t be enough to fill its belly.
I thought about making boots or a hat, but the poor workmanship of the breastplate made me give up on making one myself.
The next time I visit a training facility, I will ask for an introduction to a craftsman.
For now, I decided to make a large fishhook by bending the fang of a king anaconda.
Although it was bent, it had shape memory, so it returned to its original shape immediately.
It is also quite hard. Even an iron knife couldn’t scratch it.
I had no choice but to use an axe to strike it back and turn it into a harpoon.
I found out that there were many fish monsters in the swamp, so I decided to have some fish meat as well.
When I left the house to catch the night breeze, the moon was moving in the middle of the sky.
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“The king anaconda and the haze turtle magic stone were both large, but I wasn’t really interested in them, so I left them there.”
“Something was valuable, but I wasn’t really interested in it, so I left it there.” And was that guy an adventurer for several years with that attitude? Why didn’t he die as a beggar from a cold in some ditch during winter before? Or end as a debt slave?
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Plot armor. Compared to him, Iron Man is like a newborn bunny. And it seems to me that the MC is a reflection of the author. Which reflects badly on the author himself.
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