I woke up inside a famine-era tragedy, and my cousin shoved me down right from the start. I cracked the back of my head on the doorstep, and that was it.
The good news: I came from another world.
The bad news: the original owner's whole family was doomed to a tragic ending, and that script was slapped right in my face.
Grandma was planning to sell me for money when the System came online:
"Sorry I'm late. A traffic jam in the space-time turbulence."
"What can you do?"
"Send you into the [Forbidden Zone of Ingredients]. One month in the mountains equals one day outside. Loot, fight, extract. You know the drill?"
"...That's it?"
"There's one more thing." A comment floated past: "Streamer, run! Your grandma's going to sell you!"
Got it. Two systems: gather supplies in the Forbidden Zone, and use the comments to avoid pitfalls.
In the Forbidden Zone, I dug up sweet potatoes, raided birds' nests for eggs, and caught field mice. While everyone else chewed bark, my family stewed cured pork.
The comments taught me how to trade, guard against thieves, and deal with awful people. Whenever I did something dumb, someone would shout in my ear, "Run!"
My cousin brought trouble on herself? Kicked out of the village.
My scumbag ex came crawling back? I splashed a bowl of soy milk in his face.
Relatives came to steal? I had snares to spare.
Just as life was getting better, another comment floated by: "Streamer, a great drought is coming."
The wells dried up, the rivers cracked, and more than twenty households looked to me.
"Are we leaving?"
"We are."
Water from the Forbidden Zone kept us alive, and the comments showed us the way.
We crossed mountains and faced wolves, fought bandits while crossing rivers, and dragged people back from the jaws of death.
Later, I built a new village by the river and became its head.
I started with a broken bowl, and the System provided everything else.
They said the mountain god was protecting me. I said the comments were my god.
