Chương 8: The Food Chain Is a Ladder

Andy became, over some stretch of time that he was still having trouble quantifying, the most efficient predator in his weight class. This wasn't a boast, but had become a fact since everything Andy's size or smaller was either eaten, currently being eaten, or had moved well away from Andy's hunting zone.

He'd carved a territory in the midwater column between two thermal currents (too warm for most killable prey– don't get me started on tardigrades) and the surface (too cold, and within range of those aerial predators he couldn't quite forget. A comfortable band where the organisms were (had been) plentiful and his glowing horn served more like a lure and less of a… liability. He'd tried to solve the glow problem. Spent what he assumed was an embarrassing amount of time concentrating on the horn like a man trying to will away an erection at a funeral. His horn remained lit. So he'd done what any sensible predator with an unavoidable glow would do: he turned the glow into a tactic. The glow attracted things. Small organisms drifted toward it. Like moths to a flame. They came to the glow. And the resulting strategy was so embarrassingly easy that he felt like he was cheating. He called this move: The Shimmering Shaft. The laziest named attack but also the most effective. They drifted in, mesmerized by his large glowing tip, and he ate them. It could be ethically questionable, but a jelly's gotta eat, even if it would get him banned from a vegan subreddit. The jokes continued to write themselves and Andy continued to be the only audience member. Passive income wasn't enough. His come hither glow brought in maybe one XP per kill. The organisms and minnows attracted to it were too small and weak. He felt like at this rate he'd be buying a house with pennies he found on the ground. He needed bigger kills, and that meant hunting deeper out in the dangerous waters. It was during one of these excursions that Andy encountered a photosynthetic colony. It was beautiful. He was aware that beauty was a strong word for something he could only perceive through chemical signatures, but it was the first thing in the open water his senses had determined was neither food, threat nor rock. A floating cluster of photosynthetic cells, hundreds of them, arranged in a slowly rotating disk, each one pulsing a faint glow. His chemoceptors registered this as a bouquet of sugars and oxygen while his new nerve net allowed him to bask in the gentle warmth it was putting off. It was a plant, basically. A living engine that converted light into nutrients and released the excess into the water. His first instinct was to eat it. His second instinct, arrived fractions of a second later, overriding the first, was to not eat it. Afterall, this colony was doing something interesting. It was producing and that was attracting even more smaller organisms. If he killed the colony he'd earn ten… twenty XP total. But if he left it alive he'd have a constant stream of food, of XP. Over time it would surely bypass the one-time payout of destroying the source. He was thinking about farming. Like actual farming, and this colony was a crop. The organisms it attracted were the harvest. Andy the jellyfish with the glowing horn was going to become a farmer." I said I wasn't interested in photosynthesizing," he thought circling the colony like a real estate agent looking at a new listing." This is outsourcing. This is supply chain management. This is setting up a farmer's market and not having to grow the crops, or sell the crops and still rake in all of the money. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. He set up shop next to the photosynthetic colony. It worked immediately. The colony produced nutrients, which attracted grazers. These grazers were small and slow and absolutely so distracted by their buffet that they did not register the jellyfish emerging from behind the colony. Andy hunted with all the dignity and sportsmanship of a man shooting fish in a barrel. [SYMBIOSIS DETECTED] [YOU HAVE ENTERED A MUTUALISTIC RELATIONSHIP WITH: PHOTOSYNTHETIC COLONY] [SYMBIOSIS BONUS: +15% XP FROM ALL KILLS WITHIN SYMBIOSIS RANGE] [NOTE: PROTECTING YOUR SYMBIOTIC PARTNER FROM HARM WILL MAINTAIN THE BONUS. ALLOWING YOUR PARTNER TO BE DESTROYED WILL END THE SYMBIOSIS.] Andy processed the notification. Mutualistic. So then both parties benefit. His colony, Bob, got a predator that killed grazers that would have otherwise eaten it. Andy got unlimited free DoorDash and 15% bonus XP." Mutualistic symbiosis," he narrated, drifting beside the colony, "The predatory jellyfish provides protection. The photosynthetic colony provides a steady stream of lured prey. The Jellyfish has entered the farming minigame." The XP was flowing. Symbiosis bonus stacked with the exploration bonus, and the grazers came in waves. The compound effect delivered the kind of exponential growth curve that made Andy's inner gamer weep with joy. He protected the colony. Not in the vet-tech Andy kind of way (Although he liked to think there was some residual compassion in the gesture), but because the XP bonus was too good to lose. When a larger organism approached with feeding intent Andy intercepted it. He kept himself fit by cycling through his moves. [XP: 698/800] [XP: 750/800] He was getting close. Hunting sessions blurred together, a rhythmic loop of patrol, kill, absorb, patrol that was both meditative and, Andy recognized, the first thing in his second life that resembled contentment. A deep satisfaction of competence that he wouldn't call happiness or peace, but of keeping something else alive and enjoying its warmth. He thought briefly of Megan, when the healed cracks of grief started to quiver in his core he moved onto the vet clinic. He thought of long shifts, routine procedures, the satisfaction of making a difference. That was the thread that connected this Jellyfish with a horn to the vet tech Andrew Snodgrass. Taking quiet pleasure in a job well done. [XP: 780/800] [XP: 794/800] Six more. Five. Four. Bob rotated and more grazers arrived. His horn glowed, he thrust deep and shishkabobbed a group. [XP: 800/800] [TIER 4 EVOLUTION AVAILABLE] [CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE REACHED THE THRESHOLD FOR TIER 4 EVOLUTION.] [YOU WILL NOW CHOOSE YOUR EVOLUTIONARY PATH.] [THIS CHOICE IS PERMANENT AND WILL DETERMINE YOUR ORGANISM TYPE FOR TIER 4.] [CHOOSE WISELY.] Choose wisely. That was new. The System was now a wizened elder handing him a quest, "It's dangerous to go alone." He floated beside Bob, and felt the now familiar pull of the evolution threshold. Bob rotated, oblivious." Thanks for everything," Andy thought toward it, because even though thanking a plant seemed absurd, he was going to do it anyway. [NEW ABILITY: THOUGHT PROJECTION- Project concepts, ideas, and emotions at another sapient creature.]"Oh wow, I guess I really do need to thank you. You were a great business partner. Best symbiotic relationship of my life, which admittedly is a short list. Actually, this may be my longest running relationship. It's a little hard to keep track of time." Gratitude projected back at him." You are aware?" Affirmation. Well then Bob, maybe I'll see you around. Hopefulness. He opened the evolution menu. Time to choose, get bigger and see what a tier 4 horn looked like. He was trying to not be too excited about that part.