Chương 23: Chapter Twenty Two

Alert! - 1 Health! Bob surged awkwardly awake, feeling as though he'd mixed six shots of espresso with a comparable amount of sleeping pills. His mind lost in a long moment of shuttered awareness, groggily pushing aside a mess of notification windows as he searched around for what had woken him. Only for his question to be swiftly – and painfully – answered. Alert! - 1 Health! The sudden flash of pain in his back-right side cleared out what cloudy thoughts were still lingering.

It also caused him to jerk forward, instinctively attempting to get away from the sensation. Before anything else, Bob noticed the new, locked-in position his eye seemed to have taken. His attempts to flip it around and stare at his attacker amounting to nothing more than a five- or six-inch variance in perception. Something which nearly sent a spike of fear tearing through his body. Until he was quickly assuaged by his newly discovered speed and turning radius.

In an instant, it felt like he was four feet away and already facing behind him. His movements facilitated by a strangely instinctive skittering sensation involving his bottom half. One he would currently be far more focused on, if it weren't for the murderous dinner platter beginning to march towards him. Its pinchers raised in obvious threat. Trying to judge his attacker's size made him realize that his own had most certainly increased.

Each of the impervious blocks of stone making up the tower's construction seeming far smaller than they had before. The crab, to its misfortune, had also suffered during this shrinking process. Weighing in at only slightly larger than its real-world lookalikes, it might once have been a serious threat to Bob's safety. Now – gazing slightly down at it in a form which felt both solid and stable – instead of fear, Bob felt a sudden surge of bloodlust overtake him.

The memory of being ripped in two by one of its bigger cousins still fresh and vivid in his mind. In fact, as the crustacean continued its charge, Bob decided this was the perfect opportunity to test out the plan he had come up with for his new prehensile 'tongue'. Or, more precisely, his prehensile tongue and his sole evolved skill. As Bob's new jaw slowly creaked open for the first time, the crab seemed to finally second-guess its decision to attack.

Its forward motion creeping to a halt before it attempted to reverse it entirely. All of which was done far too late. As the thick lashing of various bound and knotted cordage whipped out of his mouth, Bob found himself astounded by both its speed and size. His mind wondering how much more of the currently four-foot-long, one-inch-thick rope was still twisted up inside him.

Before then being far too occupied to care when that same rope impacted the top of the crustacean with impressive force; knocking it off its feet and almost instinctively beginning to wrap around the creature. Slowly pulling it towards its fate. It tried to fight back, of course. Its oversized claws attempting to maneuver themselves around the cord entangling the rest of its body. But by the time they'd gotten themselves positioned correctly; it was too late.

As Bob opened his mouth wide and, with one step forward and the slightest tug from his new limb, completely engulfed the crab. Claws and all. Before then, with an unnatural flexing of what appeared to be wood and iron, compressing his form entirely around it. Holding it helplessly within himself. Ding! Toothless Grasp (E) has Leveled up! 2 – 3 What pitiful resistance it was putting up seemed to fade away altogether when his skill leveled.

The increase also assisting in letting his limb move freely inside himself, relaxing his form when required for it to pass. It used that freedom in order to collect the now smaller lumps of silver resting there – the system seeming to have consumed an equal portion of both – and pulling them firmly into the sides of the crab. Before beginning to squeeze. Its struggles increased.

Mounting one last desperate fight for freedom as it felt the pressure begin to build; its claws and legs straining against his wooden frame. These attempts abruptly ceasing when – with a wet, suppressed crunch – its shell finally gave way, collapsing in upon itself. Ding! You have destroyed a 'LV: 2 Lesser Mad-Crab (F)' (3) Experience gained for Class: ' Treasure Hunter (B)' Bob simply stood there for a moment as he stared at the notification in front of him.

His mind trying to catch up with everything that had happened in the forty to fifty seconds he'd been awake. Not managing terribly well. At least his plan to combat the crabs had been successful. Though, as he disgorged the mess of crushed arthropod into the waters around him, he couldn't say he'd really considered the unpleasantness factor. Still, his skill combo had absolutely verified its usefulness. Plus, the brief combat had proven that the crabs were a source of experience points.

Which boded very well for his survival. Almost as well as whatever that Evolution had done to him. Bob, as best he could, stared down at his new form. Taking in glimmers of varnished wood and blackened rivets of iron. The box-like shape not unexpected, given his species. He was a chest. One which appeared a little over a foot tall and half again that wide. Probably. His eye, now firmly placed where one would expect a lock to be, unfortunately no longer capable of its previous exacting feats of self-description.

Though, now that he thought of it, still able to quickly peek behind him. At least if he opened his 'lid' far enough to do so. After as much self-evaluation as he was able to do, Bob took a moment to glance around the tower for other intruders. Not wanting to be ambushed by another crab while he was distracted by glowing blue windows. After finding nothing else in the general vicinity however, he finally turned his attention towards the notifications he had waiting for him.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. And boy were there a lot of them. Ding! You have Survived Evolving into a ' Thousand-Foot Mimic (E)' Congratulations! Ding! You have Acquired your first Unique Trait! Unique Traits are Evolution-Specific Traits which act as the hallmark of a subspecies; each far outshining their similarly ranked counterparts.

These Traits are allowed to further Evolve into greater and more specialized versions of themselves at set species levels. You have acquired the Unique Trait 'Articulated Undercarriage (E)', from the 'Movement' Path. Articulated Undercarriage (E) Transforms the Mimic's 'undercarriage' into a sea of 1, 000 'feet' operated by a distributed control system.

+ 5 Dexterity + 5 Constitution Passive Ability Surefooted (E) The Mimic is able to nimbly and securely navigate terrain which would be thought well outside its reach. Trait Evolution: Level 20 Bob paused here, hesitating for a moment before moving on to the last window demanding his attention. The description for his Unique Trait seemed very familiar. Even large swaths of the language used looked to have been pulled directly from the explanation he'd been given on his 'Class Skill'.

The text feeling awkward and recycled compared to 'The System's' usual, seemingly custom tailored, commentary. The thought was an idle one. But it quickly acquired monstrous significance when he almost casually realized that it probably wasn't much of an issue. Because, barring outlandish situations like his own, the same person probably never saw both of them. He was almost shocked that he hadn't considered it until now.

The fact that him being a 'sapient monster' meant he might be double dipping as far as bonuses went. After all, the system had already said that only 'Sapients' got classes. And he hadn't noticed any of the, admittedly few, humans he'd encountered with extra limbs, eyes, or grafted armored plates. So, it seemed likely that even if they were getting Traits, they certainly weren't like his. Bob felt the embers of hope he'd been kindling turn into something more.

Between his Species and Class, he would be gaining over double the attribute points of a similarly ranked monster. At least if the bonuses were comparable between different species of the same rank. Which meant he might be able to do more than just survive. He might be able to thrive. To grow truly, genuinely, powerful. Even if it was in the form of an oversized jewelry box.

Between this realization, the results of his evolution and the mangled crab remains still floating haphazardly in the water; Bob felt a genuine confidence begin to swell within him. Confidence about not just surviving the local, ravenous crabs. But perhaps even getting out of the valley he'd thrown himself into. With his current attribute growth, climbing his way out might be more than just a pipe dream. Hoping to continue this streak of good luck, Bob turned to the next window.

Begging that the system continue to reward him for all his recent suffering. Promising never to badmouth it ever again, even within his own head. A promise he realized just moments later that he may well be forced to keep. Ding! Congratulations! You have 8. 88 Silver Coins remaining post-evolution! Species Level Increased! 1 - 4 Next Level: 8.

88/16 Silver Coins The page didn't look as impressive or interesting as those which had come prior to it, so an observer could be forgiven their confusion over the stunned joy which had overtaken Bob. But to him, this might well be the most glorious bit of news he'd gotten all day.

'It reset...' Bob almost breathed the words inside his own mind, unable to believe his luck. Had the coins required continued to multiply as he'd expected, he wouldn't have even breached level two with his current total. Instead, it had reset itself back to a single coin. Though silver this time instead of copper. The totals would still soon drift towards the untenable, especially if it took more than ten levels to evolve now that he was rank E, but what little grace he was given might well save his life.

Because those four levels meant a lot of attribute points now. With a brief thought, Bob opened his full status screen for what may be the first time since he'd left the lake. The contents of which made his 'mouth' twist into an unnerving and materially-impossible smile. Name: Bob Stadler Title: Hard to Swallow (D) + Species: Thousand-Foot Mimic (E) + Class: Treasure Hunter (B) + Level: 4 8.

88/16 Class Level: 1 3/16 Health: 34/36 Mana: 52/52 Strength: 12 Dexterity: 38 Constitution: 36 Intelligence: 52 Perception: 20 Willpower: 38 Species Traits: + Articulated Undercarriage (E) Eyes Like Jewels (F) Creeping Hoard (F) Taste for Gold (F) Class Skills: + Treasure Sense (B) Obtained Skills: + Toothless Grasp (E) Dodge (E) Taunt (E) Blessings: + This… This was something he could work with. This was the status page of a monster that could survive in this part of the Dungeon. No.

This was the status page of a half -monster that could thrive in this part of the Dungeon. A statement which was reinforced by the still-new sensations lurking in the back of his head. The additions to himself granted by 'Treasure Sense' making themselves known. Where once he'd been entirely shrouded by a cloud of looming danger, its threats fatal and imminent; now Bob's mental landscape felt dramatically altered. While there were still blots of death and darkness scattered around him, they felt far less…

pressing than they had previously. Instead, he was now able to differentiate between them and lesser threats. Of which he was surrounded by many. Some, like those in the direction of the tower's steepled roof, literally only feet away. These threats, however, were now very much beginning to look like opportunities. And Bob was quite desperate to start taking advantage of them.

He even began to head towards the most readily available, feet taking him quickly towards the stairway down – where he could feel a steady pulse of light danger – almost without him thinking about it. Only stopping when his brain was struck by a strange disconnect from his casual glide across the floor. Because, up until a few minutes ago, the maximum number of feet he'd had any practice operating was two. And frankly he was a bit worried he'd be rusty in their use, given the extended period of time without them.

So how was he supposedly using 'a thousand' of them so casually that he'd moved without thinking? Bob attempted to peer down as far as he was able, trying his best to get a look at what was currently conveying him across the room's immaculate tiles. At first, he wasn't able to notice anything at all; this despite the straining effort it took to contort himself into position. That changed, however, when he attempted to take a step forward.

The bottom quarter of his chest immediately shifted from being a solid mass of hardened wood, to almost looking like the keyboard of a piano. The spaces between all of his 'feet' appearing entirely invisible until each one shifted forward. A process which was smooth, practiced and required absolutely no attention or management on his part. In fact, the only problem he did encounter as he began to run little test circles around the room was when he attempted to take individual control over one of them.

An action which immediately resulted in Bob experiencing the unholy love-child of a muscle cramp and a migraine. After quivering on the floor for a few moments – being reminded that sometimes gift horses bite – Bob picked himself back up. Deciding it might be best to leave off any further investigation of his new trait until later. A decision which was only cemented once he realized that the slight pulse of danger he'd felt further down the stairs, had slowly made its way to just outside the door.

Bob glanced towards the shadowed archway, not feeling for the first time since his reincarnation here the expected stab of fear such encounters usually provided. Instead, he was filled with a new sensation. As he saw the oversized-claws of his next opponent rise over the last, burnished stair-step; Bob felt Hungry.