The Weakest Tamer Trash Picking Journey Begins

Chapter 5 Four stories, three years of survival in the woods.



The fortune teller has come to see me several times since then.

Talk to me, give me a degraded version of the potion.

They also shared the food with me.

In the meantime, my environment is getting worse and worse.

A year after that day, I couldn't get into my room.

Sad and crying, I threw the cup that was on my desk towards my mother.

After that, my father beat me many times and experienced pain I had never felt before.

My mother never stopped my father.

It's a degraded version but the potion helped.

I was sad to see more scars, but not tears.

When I began to live hidden in the woods, I was horrified by strange things.

I thought I didn't want to see anyone, so I honed my hiding skills from then on.

I just honed the technology so I wouldn't find it.

In the meantime, I read the book many times and tap it into my head.

Medicinal herbs that become edible nuts, poisonous grasses, and medicines.

Each trait became distinguishable by remembering it.

This manages to make life in the woods a little safer.

I also remember eating poisonous grass incorrectly and suffering.

In addition to the two books, there were also books on how to catch prey in traps.

Practice by remembering the traps you can make yourself.

I failed a few times, but I was able to catch my prey.

During the demolition, I feel like I screamed before, but it must be my fault.

For the first time in a long time, I got a little excited about the meat.

Three years.

I think I've gained a lot of strength.

I could run in the woods for a long time.

A small prey, but also an increased chance of being caught.

I can also use medicinal herbs to handle wounds.

Life in the woods is going well.

……

Something bothered me, so I get out of the woods for a while and go to the village settlement.

... I look surprised that they thought I was dead.

Will he die?

What bothers me is the fortune teller.

He came to see me every two weeks, but I haven't seen him in about a month.

Did something happen?

There was no one in the fortune teller's house.

I get anxious about what's going on.

Hissing in the back, I hear voices.

If I clear my ears, I hear a slight talk.

My chest hurts like it was grabbed by the content of the story.

... ran off the spot and fled to the woods.

……

The fortune teller was dead.

I heard you stuck a cold.

If the mayor had the potion, he could have cured it.

But... the village chief refuses to be treated with potions.

It seems I have the cause.

The fortune-teller who did me good was apparently smoked out of the village.

I didn't know.

Because of me......

Return to the hidden residence.

I don't feel like doing anything.

I was sad, but for some reason, I didn't cry.

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