First Foraging Trip and I Already Encounter a Mutant?

“Ugh…”

I woke up at 10 a.m., my stomach growling loudly—reminding me, yet again, that it was completely empty.

Last night, Qin Dai really went all out on me.

That kick she landed on my right side? Left a nasty bruise.

Even now, the slightest touch sends sharp pain shooting through my ribs.

My right wrist was also lashed with a stick—so tender I can barely twist it without wincing.

And when I crawled to pick up that bun… just to avoid making her angrier… I ended up coating my clothes in mud.

By the time I got home, my wrist hurt so much I didn’t have the energy to open the wardrobe.

So I slept in yesterday’s filthy outfit.

Thankfully, my Big Bear plushie stayed clean.

That’s about the only thing keeping my spirits up right now.

“Sigh… I may be a scumbag, but seriously—aren’t they just as bad? The leader kicked me out after hours of torment, not even letting me stay the night. And Qin Dai? Dragged me to a graveyard at midnight and still expected me to be grateful?”

I sighed, got out of bed, and changed into clean clothes.

So uncool.

I’m not even sure what “uncool” really means.

I just remember girls using it four years ago to describe guys they disliked.

Now that I’m a girl too, and I really dislike the leader and Qin Dai… maybe it’s okay if I borrow the term?

Hopefully the original inventors won’t come back to haunt me.

Dressed in an oversized black short-sleeve shirt and plain black shorts, I stepped outside.

Foraging outside the camp is exhausting.

Most scavengers dig up plant tubers from untouched grasslands or search for snails in the muddy banks of irradiated streams.

Getting food like that is messy work—inevitably leaves you covered in filth.

To avoid having to wash clothes constantly, I’m forced to wear shorts even as winter approaches.

Water in the camp is strictly rationed.

Otherwise, I wouldn’t subject myself to this discomfort just to be lazy.

Of course, if I didn’t care about hygiene like most people, I could skip showers and sell my extra water rations.

But I am the leader’s “girlfriend.”

If I showed up looking like a filthy beggar, my life would probably end before sunset.

“Tch…”

The moment I stepped out, my injured right wrist slammed into a collapsed pile of firewood.

The pain was so intense, tears nearly spilled from my eyes.

I don’t even remember piling wood here.

Must’ve been some clueless neighbor dumping their excess right in front of my door.

If I still had my old height, I’d have given them a proper beating.

But who knows how hard Qin Dai hit me last night?

Just a light scrape and it feels like my arm’s on fire.

I hope it doesn’t get infected.

Not that I could afford treatment if it did.

“Girl, learning the hard way, huh? Told you Qin Yue’s a scumbag—did he hit you too?”

One of my perpetually judgmental neighbors called out.

Look, I admit I was a scumbag.

But I never hit anyone.

I’m a manipulator, not a gorilla with anger issues.

Why do they all assume I’m violent?

“…”

I stayed silent.

My empty stomach gave me zero patience for arguments.

Kicking the obstructive woodpile aside, I locked the door and headed toward the camp’s outer gates.

……

“Snails… snails… nothing at all…”

At a small stream far from the camp, I crouched, using my left hand to flip over every reachable stone.

No luck.

Not a single snail underneath.

Why snails?

Because I have no idea which plants are edible.

I’d rather not die young from accidental poisoning.

As for tree bark?

The trees in the light-radiation zone around the camp have been stripped bare by scavengers.

They might not know what’s toxic, but bark? At least that’s safe.

“Damn you, Qin Dai… If I ever see you again, I’ll kick your ass so hard with my boot!”

After hours of fruitless searching, I stood in the middle of the stream, venting my frustration—and my helplessness.

With my right hand injured, I couldn’t flip large stones.

All I could do was shuffle through pebbles.

How was I supposed to find food like this?

Not that I could actually threaten her.

I don’t even own boots.

And even if I did, my new 1.6-meter frame wouldn’t intimidate a kitten.

“Hiss… what the hell?”

Barefoot in the cold water, sudden pain shot through my calf.

Something had clamped down on my leg.

Panicked, I hopped on one foot back to the shore.

There it was—a ten-legged crab, its four pincers clamped deep into my calf.

The pain was unbearable.

Tears—pathetic, really—slid down my cheeks.

I reached down and grabbed its back.

Never dealt with this before.

I tried pulling it off.

Only succeeded in tearing my skin further.

If I kept yanking, I’d rip a chunk of flesh clean off.

What terrible luck.

Why did I have to run into a mutant in the light-radiation zone?

I sat on a rock by the stream, lips pressed tight, trapped in a bizarre standoff—me on one side, the mutant crab still clamped onto my leg.

In this apocalypse, the world is divided into four zones:

Heavy radiation, medium radiation, light radiation, and clean zones.

Generally, the higher the radiation, the more mutants.

Light zones? Should be safe.

Encountering a mutant here is rarer than winning the lottery.

Creatures here only suffer minor radiation effects—increased cancer risk, but not full mutation.

So why this?

I didn’t understand.

I just sat there, under the shade, one hand gripping the crab’s shell, the other supporting my leg, left foot stretched into the sunlight.

……

In the end, I did get the crab.

I sat in the sun for hours—morning until 4 p.m.

Eventually, the little monster died from heat exposure.

Yes.

Roasted to death by the sun.

And even in death, its pincers stayed locked onto my calf.

I had to pry them open, one by one.

Quickly lit a fire by the stream.

Maybe because I was so starved, but this grilled mutant crab tasted incredible.

Sure, eating mutated meat might give me cancer.

But at this point?

I didn’t care.

I was that hungry.

After finishing the meal, I limped—almost hopped—back to the camp.

I think I’ll never come back to this stream again.