After a few hours of following the smoke, Fang Mu arrived at a village nestled by a stream. He noticed a massive wall surrounding the village, with people bustling around it. He roamed along the wall, searching for a way to breach it. After a couple of minutes, he spotted a hole partially covered by vines and branches.
His eyes lit up with excitement. Immediately, he began digging through the vines and branches using his mouth. After a few minutes of effort, he saw a sliver of light and caught a glimpse of what looked like the inside of the village. Quietly, he slipped through the hole and entered the village. He carefully covered the hole with vines and branches so that no one would notice the breach.
Fang Mu slithered through the shadows, his small, amphibious body barely making a sound as he moved along the village's dirt paths. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and cooked food, mingling with the distant chatter of villagers going about their evening routines. He kept to the edges of the pathways, using crates, barrels, and piles of firewood as cover.
His three yellow eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the details—wooden huts with thatched roofs, children running barefoot, elderly men smoking pipes near a small communal fire. It was a modest settlement, but the massive wall around it suggested it wasn’t as simple as it seemed.
Why does a village need such heavy fortifications? Fang Mu wondered. Are they trying to keep something out… or something in?
He had no time to ponder further. His stomach twisted with hunger. Though he had gorged himself back in the cavern, that energy had already been spent. He needed food, something to sustain him in this unfamiliar place.
A sudden, delicious aroma caught his attention. His gaze locked onto a wooden stall where a pot of steaming broth bubbled over an open flame. Nearby, a woman ladled soup into wooden bowls, handing them to passing villagers.
Fang Mu's instincts kicked in. He needed to steal food—but how? He couldn’t exactly walk up and take it. If he was caught, he'd likely be killed on sight.
Just as he was weighing his options, he heard footsteps approaching from behind. His body tensed.
Damn! Someone's coming!
Thinking fast, he darted toward a stack of hay bale, slipping beneath them just as a pair of boots stopped mere inches from where he had been.
"Did you hear something just now?" a deep voice asked.
"Probably just a rat," another voice replied. "Or one of those damned swamp creatures getting too close again."
The first man spat on the ground. "Keep your sword ready. The patrol captain said there’s been strange activity near the swamp lately. If anything sneaks in, we kill it on sight."
Fang Mu held his breath. His instincts had been right—this village wasn’t just protecting itself from the outside. Something dangerous was lurking nearby.
And now, he was trapped inside with it.
The village was small, taking only about an hour to explore. Children were playing in the grass, farmers were harvesting rice, and women were washing clothes by the stream.
He saw where the smoke was coming from—a large wok where a whole cow was being cooked. The cow lay on its side, roasting over a fire surrounded by large, glowing stones. People gathered around, happily waiting for the cow to cook.
"Wow, they’re cooking the whole cow," he said in amazement.
"It’s like fried chicken. I wonder what fried cow tastes like."
As he observed ,dog’s bark caught his attention. The dog, resembling a stray from his world, was barking at him.
"Woof! Woof! Woof!" The dog kept barking.
"Go away, doggie, go away," he said, but what came out of his mouth was a growl.
"Woof! Woof! Woof!" The dog continued barking.
"You won’t leave? Fine, I have no choice. Sorry, doggie." A quick flick of his tongue struck the dog. The dog yelped in pain, and soon its legs stiffened, causing it to collapse. Fang Mu realized his tongue was venomous, capable of paralyzing creatures—a discovery he made while hunting fish in the swamp.
"Caro!" A high-pitched voice called out. Raven saw a girl, about ten years old, running toward the dog. He quickly hid in the grass.
"Caro, what happened to you?" The girl was shocked to see her dog lying motionless. It whimpered weakly.
"Dad! Dad! Dad!" she shouted.
Soon, a man in his forties arrived.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Dad, look at Caro!" the girl pointed at the paralyzed dog.
The commotion drew the attention of other villagers. "What’s going on?" asked an elderly man, followed by curious onlookers.
"Dad, Caro—"
The girl’s father picked up the dog and examined it. "What happened?"
"I don’t know, Dad. He just ran off and started barking at the grass. When I got here, he suddenly collapsed."
"Will he live, Dad?" the girl asked, worried about her pet. The villagers, seeing the situation, slowly dispersed. Moments later, an elderly man in his fifties approached. He was Elder Gido, the village leader.
"Let me see, Yato," Elder Gido said.
"Here, Elder," Yato handed the dog over. After a few minutes of examination, Elder Gido spoke.
"Based on the symptoms, he’s paralyzed."
"Will he live, Elder?" the girl asked, trembling.
"Yes, Elma, he’ll live," Elder Gido smiled. "It’ll just take some time, but it’s not life-threatening. He just needs some herbs."
The girl sighed in relief.
"Maybe a snake or an insect attacked him," Elder Gido speculated.
"Probably," Yato agreed.
"Get ready, the boiled cow is almost done!" a voice echoed, catching the attention of the villagers.
"Let’s go, Elder. The boiled cow is ready," Yato invited, carrying the dog.
"You go ahead," Elder Gido said.
"Thank you, Elder Gido. We’ll go ahead."
"Eat well," Elder Gido reminded.
"Yes, Elder," Yato nodded, and they left with Elma.
"Goodbye, Elder Gido," Elma said.
Elder Gido smiled and nodded as they left. He then stared at the grass, as if searching for something or deep in thought. After a few minutes, he too walked away.
Unbeknownst to him, Fang Mu, hiding in the grass, had overheard the entire conversation.
"That was close," Fang Mu muttered. It would have been a big problem if the villagers had seen him. They might have killed him.
Seeing nothing else of interest in the village, he wondered, "Now, where should I go?" Before he could come up with an idea, his stomach growled.
"Ugh, it’s been over hours since I last ate."
"Is there anything to eat here?" he thought, looking around. He explored the village again and soon spotted a coop not far away, housing hens and chicks. The coop was made of wood, with four fences forming a square, about a meter high.
He licked his lips. "I wonder what chicken tastes like," he thought. In the three months he’d been in this world, he hadn’t tasted anything other than fish.
"But I’ll wait until nightfall. It’s almost dark anyway," he decided.
When night fell, the villagers were asleep, and only the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the wind could be heard. Not far from the grass, a pair of eyes watched intently.
"It’s showtime," he said.
He leaped quickly and approached the coop. Inside, he saw ten hens sleeping with their chicks.
"Come on, baby, come to daddy."
"Target locked." He jumped onto the coop’s fence, aiming for the hens. Before they could make any noise, his tongue struck their necks, paralyzing them instantly.
The hens couldn’t even cry for help, paralyzed by Fang Mu’s venomous tongue. The chicks chirped in alarm, but it wasn’t enough to alert the villagers. They too were struck and paralyzed.
In just a few minutes, ten hens were paralyzed.
"For the finale," he said.
He then targeted the chicks, flicking his tongue rapidly. One by one, the chicks were caught and swallowed whole.
"Hmmm," he murmured, surprised that they tasted even better than the fish he usually ate. He continued until he was full.
After a few minutes, he had eaten twenty three chicks. There were still some left, but he was too full to finish them. 
He had initially planned to eat the hens too, but they were as big as he was, and he was afraid of choking.
Twenty-three chicks were enough to fill him up.
Feeling too full to move, he rested for a while. After half an hour, when he could move again, he walked back to his hiding spot and rested there.
"I think I’m getting used to eating live, raw creatures," he thought.
"Whatever," he shrugged. After all, he was now an animal, not a human. He didn’t dwell on it and soon fell asleep. Unbeknownst to him, his skin was beginning to shed again.
He slithered over the fence, his tongue flicking with deadly precision. One by one, the hens went rigid, their bodies paralyzed before they could even make a sound. The chicks chirped frantically, but their cries were too soft to rouse the villagers. Soon, twenty-three chicks lay motionless.
Without hesitation, he swallowed them whole, their warmth still lingering as they slid down his throat. The taste—rich, slightly gamey, far superior to the bland fish he had survived on for months—filled him with satisfaction.
He had planned to eat the hens too, but they were too large. Even in this body, he knew his limits. Satiated, he slunk back to the shadows, his belly full.
As he drifted into sleep, an unfamiliar sensation tingled across his skin.
Unbeknownst to him, his body was beginning to shed once more.