I Got Reincarnated with OP Stats...For Snacking?

Absolutely! Here's the proofread version of Chapter 7: "Desperate Times Call for

Shizuku had reached that special kind of low only achieved through prolonged hunger, soul-deep exhaustion, and an emotional sugar level of zero. Her once-decent cloak was now a shredded disaster, her boots were held together with a bit of rope and sheer spite, and her hair had taken on the frizzed energy of a mad scientist caught in a thunderstorm.

She trudged along a dirt path somewhere in a forest she couldn't name, in a kingdom she hadn't identified, in a world that had clearly been patched together by a drunk dungeon master with no map.

Her stomach growled—again—and she glared at it with the full force of betrayal.

"I'm a powerful fire mage," she muttered darkly. "I survived a reincarnation, a pitchfork mob, and a glowing airhead of a goddess. And yet I am being taken down… by hunger. At this point, I would sell my non-existent soul for a single glazed donut."

After several more minutes of dramatic internal suffering, she plopped herself down on a rock and stared off into the trees. She tried to think logically. There had to be a way to get food without becoming a socially rejected freak of magical destruction again.

Her thoughts slowly spiraled into chaos.

Farming? Too much effort.

Working in a village? Nope—wanted poster pending.

Hunting? With what? A stick and her wounded pride? No thanks.

That's when it hit her. A moment of clarity. A flash of genius.

"I'll become a bandit," she declared out loud to no one. "That's right. I've got fire powers, a tragic backstory, and no responsibilities. It's practically required by isekai law."

Her voice echoed dramatically through the trees. A bird chirped in distant disapproval.

She stood and stretched, eyes gleaming with the gleeful despair of someone who had officially stopped caring about social norms.

"I'll only steal from people who deserve it," she told herself. "Like rich nobles. Or anyone carrying candy. Morality starts after dessert."

Her first attempt was, in theory, flawless.

She spotted a fancy-looking carriage in the distance, then dove behind a conveniently placed boulder, preparing the most intimidating bandit lines she could remember from anime.

"Okay. Step one: leap out with confidence. Step two: yell something scary. Step three: loot snacks. Easy."

She jumped into the road with both arms raised.

"HAND OVER YOUR SWEETS AND NOBLE SNACKS!"

The horses reared in pure terror. The driver shrieked and flung a boot at her. The passengers screamed. One chucked a pouch of coins out the window in panic.

Then the entire carriage bolted away down the road like she'd summoned a demon army.

Shizuku stood in the dust, holding a small bag of copper coins.

"…That was not the reaction I expected. Also, this isn't even enough for a cupcake."

She sulked off the road, planning her next move.

Obviously, she needed a disguise. Something edgy. Something intimidating.

She smudged dirt across her face, pulled her hood low, and practiced her glare in a puddle.

"Okay, take two. Let's go full edgy antihero."

The next cart she approached was slower, driven by an older man humming to himself. Shizuku stepped into the road with all the menace of a Halloween decoration missing a limb.

"Your goods or your gummy bears!" she yelled.

The merchant blinked. "Your… what?"

"You know, candy. Sugar. Small happy things that keep people from snapping and setting forests on fire."

He tilted his head. "I have… turnips?"

Shizuku's soul visibly left her body for a second. Still, she tried to hold her ground.

"I'm a terrifying forest bandit, you know!"

He squinted at her soot-covered face, torn cloak, and visible hangry energy.

"You look like you need a nap."

She attempted a dramatic reply but tripped on her own cloak and fell face-first into the mud. The merchant gave her a pastry. It was stale. She cried anyway.

Several failed attempts later—one involving a goat stealing her bread and another involving a log trap that just rolled onto her own foot—Shizuku lay sprawled in the grass, eyes hollow, chewing on a stolen carrot like it was the last hope of her civilization.

"Banditry is a lie," she mumbled. "Anime lied. Games lied. The real crime is that I haven't seen a single treasure chest."

She considered quitting. Becoming a wandering forest witch. Charging tolls to passersby using fireball threats and dramatic speeches. It wasn't like the job market was wide open to accused demons.

Eventually, she spotted one more cart. It looked half-empty and slow, probably delivering hay or barrels of something unimportant. But at this point, pride was long gone.

Shizuku stopped it by jumping in front of it like a very tired deer.

The driver screamed. She threw up her hands.

"I'm not here to hurt you!" she yelled. "I just want food. If you have anything sweet, I swear I'll disappear back into the woods like a bad moral decision."

The cart only had dried figs. She stared at the box like it was a sacred artifact.

"Not chocolate. But close enough."

She took a handful and vanished into the forest again, chewing thoughtfully and pretending this wasn't the most undignified day of her life.

She wandered until nightfall, her energy finally creeping above zero. Under a crooked pine tree, she sat down, chewing on another fig and staring up at the stars.

"Okay," she said to herself. "That was humiliating, but technically, I succeeded. Bandit attempt number four: partial victory. Calories acquired."

She pulled her tattered cloak tighter, curling up in the leaves.

"I may not be good at banditry," she muttered. "I may not be intimidating, cool, or remotely threatening. But by the unholy power of figs, I will survive this world… preferably with sugar."

There was a rustling nearby. Her head snapped up, hand crackling with fire magic.

But it was just a rabbit. She lowered her hand.

"Even you have it better than me, fluffball. I bet you're not being hunted for saving people."

The rabbit blinked. Then hopped away.

"Smart," she murmured, lying back again. "Maybe I should become a rabbit. They don't have to worry about divine misplacement."

And so, with a belly half-full of dry fruit and a reputation now firmly in "confused roadside lunatic" territory, Shizuku wandered deeper into the wilderness, cloak flapping behind her, ready for whatever the chaotic game-world would throw at her next.

To be continued…