Chapter 1: A Little Tooth

Ding—

“Welcome to the System’s Weird-Tale World. The world you have been selected for is The Water-Marsh Chronicles.”

“Please confirm your chosen identity.”

Jiang Xiaoya was an exceptional lifeguard. After she died in a mission gone wrong, she was retrieved by the System. The System said she seemed quite capable and offered her a second chance at life, dropping her, all dusty and disheveled, into a world of supernatural horror.

Staring at the identity options laid out before her, Jiang Xiaoya fell into deep thought.

If this were some epic female-led adventure, she would’ve slammed the button for “Mercenary” and kicked off a spectacular new life of blood-soaked battles, like something out of Resident Evil.

Failing that, choosing “Ordinary Person” would be fine, too; she could find a powerful base and a strong thigh to hug for protection.

But contrary to the System’s expectations, Jiang Xiaoya was basically a piece of dried kelp, content to just sway in the breeze.

While it was true she died saving someone, a big part of that was because she didn’t have much ambition to begin with. She was a go-with-the-flow kind of person. Her personality was warm and sunny, but her acceptance of fate was so next-level that she figured living was fine, but dying was also, you know, whatever.

Her team captain constantly pulled her aside for talks, telling her to cherish her life. Jiang Xiaoya figured she did cherish her life, a fact best demonstrated by her daily vitamin regimen.

Beyond that, her philosophy was that life is best lived at a standstill.

So, blood-soaked battles? No, thank you. A desperate struggle for survival? Hard pass.

Jiang Xiaoya’s eyes darted left and right. She hesitated for a long moment in front of the [Mercenary] option before her gaze started to wander.

Her finger quietly tapped the very last choice.

Might as well be a baby.

The System politely reminded her, “Are you sure, Host? If you choose to be an infant, your intelligence may be reduced due to physical limitations.”

Jiang Xiaoya nodded.

And then, she began to cheerfully look forward to the life she was about to lead: a life of aimless, kelp-like vibing. The life of a certified slacker!

---

After a solid year of acid rain, the land became pockmarked with swamps. Ferns grew with wild abandon. But unlike in many post-apocalyptic movies, the monsters that appeared here weren’t zombies, but a bizarre type of creature known as a “Water Ghoul.”

Water Ghouls only appeared on rainy days, wandering through the swamps like lost souls. They were slow to react to the outside world, yet incredibly savage and terrifying. They would drag any living person they passed into the water, drown them, eat them, and then turn them into one of their own.

Because these strange traits were so much like something out of a horror story, people called them “Water Ghouls.” Still, even high-level Ghouls could only manifest in damp places. So, humanity erected towering electric fences at the edge of the swamps and established survival bases of all sizes in the relatively dry regions.

Right now, however, in a dangerous swamp zone where no living person should be, a bonfire flickered inside an abandoned building.

They were a small squad, planning to cross the sprawling marshlands to seek refuge at the nearest survival base, Asparagus City. But as luck would have it, they’d run into a massive swarm of low-level Water Ghouls and had accidentally stumbled into this area, explicitly designated by all major bases as the “Forbidden Zone.”

According to the stories, this Forbidden Zone was once the largest prison in Asparagus City, holding thousands of inmates. After the cataclysm, it was swallowed by the swamp.

The area was now overrun with numerous high-level Ghouls rarely seen outside. And—there was an unknown, strange magnetic field radiating from this place, marked on satellite maps with a dark black blotch. To this day, no one who entered has ever come out alive.

Hence the name, “The Forbidden Zone.”

By all rights, having set foot in here, this squad shouldn’t have survived a single night.

However, during their approach, they didn’t encounter any high-level Ghouls, not even a single low-level one. The calm swamp mirrored the sky perfectly, and the ancient prison ruins had a serene, almost peaceful charm.

Yet as they sat before the fire, every face was grim.

A constant beeping sounded from their satellite watches. Usually, the magnetic field of a high-level Ghoul appeared as a single dot the size of a bean. But now, their watch faces were mysteriously illuminated with a blood-red screen that extended across several thousand meters.

A sense of foreboding crept into everyone’s heart.

“Captain, maybe we should forget Asparagus City and just turn back?”

The words had barely left his mouth when Deng Feng, the scout sent out earlier, burst through the door, panting.

“Run! I don’t know what’s happening, but I saw a ton of high-level Ghouls heading this way!”

Just as the group hurried to pack their gear, heavy raindrops started pouring down on the ruins. Everyone knew that Water Ghouls became especially active in the rain, their speed increasing significantly.

Once the downpour started, their chances of escape would be slim to none.

The captain frowned. “There’s no time. We have to leave someone behind as bait. Otherwise, we’re all going to die.”

Water Ghouls were dangerous but not very smart. Once they caught a single prey, they would start fighting over it and then sink back into the swamp. In other words, sacrifice one person, and the others could buy enough time to get away.

After a moment of silence, the room full of adults turned their heads in unison, their eyes landing on a small bundle in the corner.

Deng Feng panicked.

“That’s the child Captain Jiang entrusted to me before he died! He wanted me to take her to Asparagus City! He died saving us…”

“So what? What if she starts crying on the road and attracts the Ghouls?”

“You people!”

Everyone avoided Deng Feng’s gaze. It was clear they had already made a silent, collective decision. The team gathered their packs and stepped out into the curtain of rain.

Deng Feng tried to argue, but the captain clamped a hand on his shoulder. Even if Deng Feng offered to stay behind as bait, they couldn’t continue their journey with a baby in tow.

His face ashen with fury, Deng Feng stopped chasing after the team and rushed back towards the ruins, against the flow.

However, he was only halfway there when he heard a strange noise.

Did that swarm of high-level Ghouls catch up already?

No, this was a completely different, low-frequency vibration. It sounded like some enormous creature breathing inside a vast cavern. A guttural “Hhhh… hhhh…” sound echoed through the rain, rebounding between the abandoned buildings.

Deng Feng’s back instantly broke out in a cold sweat. He turned his head, his body stiff as a board.

Not far away, a giant’s shadow cast a broad silhouette.

The ruins were long since deserted, the world shrouded in a blurry mist. The monster appeared through the fog and vapor, striding between the high-rises. It had long, flowing hair and stood far taller than any human.

The dark figure moved through the empty ruins, its long, thin limbs walking through the rain.

Beneath it, a river of green gore trailed behind—the bloody remains of the slaughtered high-level Ghouls.

“Hhhh… hhhh…”

After the cataclysm, countless things had appeared in the world that were beyond human understanding. But after years of exploration, humankind believed they had a solid grasp on the post-disaster world.

Who could have imagined that here, in the depths of this swamp, hid a bizarre existence that exceeded all human imagination and was beyond their very ability to comprehend?

Soon, the screams of his teammates echoed from the rain.

“…What the hell is that thing?”

“Quick, open fire! Stop it!”

Deng Feng’s eyes went wide.

Under a hail of bullets, green blood dripped from the creature, only to heal at a visible rate.

Solid concrete instantly softened and collapsed, turning into mud. Wherever the giant passed, the black swamp swallowed everything like tentacles. The concrete ground gave way, and entire buildings disappeared into the marsh as if they were made of foam.

It was an utterly illogical and deeply horrifying scene.

By the time the team members tried to run, it was too late.

“Help! Hel—glrggl!”

Deng Feng stood frozen in place, cold sweat and rainwater soaking his back. His brain was screaming at him to run, but his legs felt like jelly.

Click.

He had unconsciously stepped on a small pebble.

The giant creature slowly turned its neck. Its eyes cut through the rain, locking directly onto Deng Feng’s position.

It saw him.

Just as Deng Feng was trembling uncontrollably, a baby’s giggle, “gugu,” suddenly echoed through the rain.

It was like a stone tossed into the boundless surface of a lake.

The massive shadow tilted its head slightly.

Water was still dripping from its hair. Its pale face, splattered with leftover blood, held a fragile, enchanting, and chaotic beauty. But it was only a fleeting glimpse. The face was quickly hidden again by its damp, long hair.

It held this twisted posture for a moment, listening quietly.

Its pale chin turned towards the source of the sound.

The giant bypassed Deng Feng.

The Water-Marsh Monster moved through the towering ruins, its long, thin limbs striding through the darkness, making a terrifying hhhh sound and a dragging noise. Its huge shadow looked like a lonely, great tree.

---

Baby Jiang Xiaoya opened her eyes and discovered her limbs had shrunk like a wool sweater that had gone through the washing machine.

She vaguely remembered her conversation with the System, but since her brain wasn’t fully developed—and her cerebellum wasn’t developed at all—her memories were completely foggy. It was like trying to recall the name of that one guy from that one movie; the more she tried, the more it turned to mush.

She couldn’t remember what she had planned to do before transmigrating. In short: Jiang Xiaoya, human kelp!

The baby’s eyes weren’t fully developed yet. She opened them wide but couldn’t see anything clearly. She could, however, feel a cool rain drifting in, and the drops hitting her face made the child jolt.

Before she crossed over, Jiang Xiaoya had held onto the hope that, as a baby, she’d surely have a guardian, or at the very least an orphanage. Being a piece of kelp swaying in the wind for a decade or so would be no problem at all.

But now, Baby Jiang Xiaoya realized she was in a dilapidated shack, open to the wind and rain, half-buried in a swamp, and seemingly abandoned for a long time. There was an extinguished bonfire nearby, and all around was silence.

It just goes to show: people who rely on blind luck will meet a terrible fate!

The baby realized the problem a beat too late: For god’s sake, who ditches a baby?

She struggled, trying to command her tiny limbs to sit up and save herself. But she must have been just born, because after a lot of effort, all she managed was a wave of her arm.

Still, she was much smarter than a normal baby. She looked around and, hoping someone noticed her, let out the loudest sound she could muster:

Any kind souls out there?

There’s a kid here! Save the child!

She had originally intended to wail, but then a thought crossed her mind. She shifted to a cute, gurgling giggle, like a little hen, trying to attract a good Samaritan’s attention. However, even after the rain’s pitter-patter stopped, the surroundings remained eerily silent.

Jiang Xiaoya had a feeling her infant years were about to be cut tragically short.

But every slacker shows their true colors even as a child. Just like now—after struggling for a moment, Baby Jiang Xiaoya quickly felt a bit tired. Realizing that rolling over was too much effort, she slowly pulled into her swaddling, like a tiny turtle retreating into its shell.

Just as her eyelids were getting heavy, the half-asleep baby suddenly heard heavy footsteps approaching.

It was a slow, ponderous sound, as if something heavy was being dragged.

Soon, she felt a giant shadow loom over her. The newborn baby’s eyesight was extremely weak; she could vaguely sense that the figure was a bit big. No, it was downright enormous.

Then again, it might just be because I’ve shrunk.

The baby immediately broke into a toothless grin, gurgling and reaching out her hands in an attempt to sell cuteness for survival.

In the drizzling rain, the massive shadow appeared above the infant. A pair of green, vertical pupils lit up in the darkness.

The monster sniffed, then extended two fingers to lift the tiny bundle, examining it.

It was completely different from those other Water Ghouls. The Marsh Monster’s vision was poor; it relied almost entirely on its sense of smell. But that didn’t stop it from being able to lock onto every enemy within its range by scent alone and drag them all into the swamp to be killed.

The moment it lifted the swaddling, the baby immediately let out another gurgling laugh.

The child’s laughter was like light, airy bubbles, filling the vast, silent swamp.

The vertical pupils in the darkness had an eerie, inhuman look, and they narrowed into a thin line.

The shadow slowly drew closer to the child’s cheek, twisting its neck to study the giggling baby, as if puzzled by how that sound was being made. It slowly reached a pale finger toward her face.

The innocent little cub had no idea that the pale finger slowly approaching her had crushed the skulls of adult men and could just as easily crush her own. She just happily waved her arms, gurgling and asking to be held.

It leaned in closer, its face almost touching the baby’s, wanting to hear the giggling sound more clearly.

The moment it got close, however, the baby immediately and enthusiastically snuggled her head forward, giggling as she tried to nuzzle its cold face.

It recoiled sharply.

Feeling the shadow above her disappear, Jiang Xiaoya grew anxious. She craned her neck and looked around in confusion.

Hey, kind soul, you’re not gonna keep the kid?

The “kind soul,” of course, hadn’t gone anywhere. The Marsh Monster slowly retreated, hiding behind a nearby wall. Its ghostly green eyes glowed in the darkness, creeping along the wall like a terrifying shadow, hovering over the baby in a twisted, horrifying stance. Its green, vertical pupils were fixed on the infant below.

Like its eyesight, the Marsh Monster didn’t have a clear sense of self.

Contrary to its massive size and slow movements, it was extremely savage and had a volatile temper. Not long ago, it had killed most of the high-level and low-level Ghouls here simply because their evening howling had disturbed its sleep.

It had intended to kill the one below, this— Human. This little human.

Yes, it was definitely going to kill her. But after the Marsh Monster had killed all the Ghouls that howled at dusk, this swamp became too quiet. Even the water birds disappeared. For a creature with such poor eyesight that relied on hearing, the silence was maddening.

It had restless wanderings in the rain and encountered screaming humans. It didn’t like screams or the sound of guns, but they were better than silence. Still, it killed the passing humans anyway.

Great. Now the swamp was completely silent again.

There was only the endless sound of the falling rain.

It paced anxiously, planning to kill the little human below, its pale fingers unconsciously scraping deep marks into the wall.

However, by the time night fell, Jiang Xiaoya was still alive and well.

Because every so often, she would let out that gurgling, hen-like, adorable laugh. In its murky world of sound, her giggles were like light, dancing bubbles.

Every time she giggled, the vertical pupils in the darkness would snap into a thin line.

After a long and chilling observation period, the monster on the ceiling glanced around.

It saw that no other humans were coming back.

The terrifying creature leaned in, and with a swoosh, it stole the giggling baby away.