Chương 11: Luck Gene

At around mid-day, Nero felt the winds pull and the snow fall decreasing noticeably. That was his chance—he quickly climbed down the tree and immediately scrambled for some dry wood and sticks. Still, suddenly jumping down from the comfort of the double blanket he'd had over himself in the tree felt more than a bit electrifying. He'd been drained after fighting those rats, even after climbing up the tree, catching his breath, and drinking some water. He still felt like his soul was dying out.

"My stamina got demolished back there," he said through puffs of white breath as he collected more dry twigs.

"Gotta buy a stamina potion during my next run," he noted to himself. Previously, when thinking of dungeon diving, the last thing he'd ever considered was the cost of potions, equipment, and guides. But as it turned out, these were exactly what kept him up at night. Because if he had a dungeon run where he couldn't collect enough loot to cover the costs, he'd be broke in no time.

"Makes sense why the old-timers don't go solo." They'd probably considered going solo themselves, but instead of just thinking about risking their lives, they'd instead worked out the cost structure, found it too expensive and opted out.

"They even have families, unlike me." A family would've easily turned his solo adventuring into a nightmare. Right now he could get by on berries and leaves and live on a half empty even if he didn't make any profits, and instead recouped enough to cover the equipment costs. But with a family? He wouldn't be able to risk being unprofitable, because that would mean his wife and kids living with half-empty bellies too. He stopped collecting more supplies as he began feeling tired.

Instead, he dragged his legs through the ever-sinking snow back to his tree, where he'd left his bag, gathering a few more dried branches along the way.. After reaching the tree, Nero climbed back up onto the platform he'd built in the canopy. He'd already cleared the overhead branches of most dried leaves and snow, so now he layered a thick sheet of snow over the platform and built his small fire. While the fire burned, he climbed down with his dagger to butcher the rats.

This time, harvesting took considerably more effort, mainly because of the five neons whose bodies were smeared with poison. Their poison had spread to the others too, making the skinning process a hassle. His entire twenty-liter water pouch was almost half emptied by the time he finished processing the hides. Next came the organs—the gonads and liver—and lastly, the cores. He made slits in each rat's heart and plucked out the gem-like cores hidden within, one at a time.

The first felt perfectly round, glassy smooth, and cool to the touch. Its color bore a bluish hue.

"This one's a water elemental mana core," he said, choosing the term "mana core" instead of "beast" or "monster" core, mainly because calling a glorified rat a monster felt ridiculous.

"Though, these could still count as monsters," he added, glancing over the neon rat corpses. He plucked five more cores from the normal rats and stored them inside a polythene bag. Next were the neons—he used a young leaf to pull the cores out from within. These were fully light-green gems, almost like the emeralds he'd seen in the newspaper. They were mostly round, like the other cores. He wrapped one in a leaf and placed it in a separate bag.

The remaining four rats yielded similarly colored gems, which he stored away as well.

"Phew, done," he breathed, dusting off his hands.

"These five green cores, along with the one I hadn't sold before, make six green cores now." He still had claws, teeth, and certain bones to harvest. But looking at the gonads and liver, which had begun developing white spots, he decided to eat them first before they broke down into mana and waste. He carried the organs to the canopy and set them over the fire. After an hour of thorough roasting, he picked them up, reached into his backpack, and pulled out a small folded paper.

Unwrapping it revealed glassy, powdered table salt. He sprinkled some over the organs for flavor, added bread, and assembled a sandwich. The moment he bit down, the slushy, savory flavor of the organs coated his tongue. He savored the meal slowly, making sure to chew and digest every bite until the organs were gone. He then cleared the platform of wood, coals, and debris, and lay back on the warm, toasty surface. After resting a few more minutes, system notifications began popping up in his field of vision.

[Acquired Primitive Gene x1] [Acquired Primitive Gene x1] [Acquired Primitive Gene x1] [Acquired Primitive Gene x1] The notification repeated twice more. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"Interesting—how'd I get more genes this time than last?" he wondered.

"Is it because of the neon rats?" The first time he'd consumed ten rats, he'd gotten exactly ten genes. The second time, hunting more normal rats, he'd gotten only five from about ten. By that logic, his current gains should've been one or two, since yields kept halving due to gene-source adaptation.

"And yet, I've got six genes total." That could only mean one thing.

"I've adapted to the gene source of normal rats, but not to that of these mutated neon rats." Either way, six genes were six genes. He immediately began meditating, assimilating them as quickly as possible—he still had more monster parts to harvest, rest to take, and more hunting ahead. He first checked his status to confirm what kinds of genes he'd received. There were three constitution-enhancing genes, two strength genes, and—astonishingly—a Luck Gene! Holy!

He rejoiced internally before continuing the assimilation. After several minutes of breathing exercises, Nero felt an uncomfortable sensation rise in his stomach before settling back into something more comfortable. Taking the cue, he opened his status panel fully.

"Status," he recited.

Status Name: Nero Race: Human Core Stage: Dormant Base Attributes STR: 13 (+6) DEX: 7 (+3) CON: 14 (+4) SPE: 16 (+7) INT: 9 WIS: 11 CHA: 3 LUCK: 2 (+1) Assimilated Primitive Gene: (21/1000) Unassimilated Genes: N/A Gene Talent: N/A Beast Soul: N/A Gene Fragments: N/A Nero felt a wide smile pull at his lips. He truly hadn't expected to earn a luck gene at all! Luck genes were by far the rarest type of attribute gene. It wasn't something you could normally find in an E-rank dungeon... or was it?

"Hmm, I don't think attribute gene drop rates correspond to dungeon rank." He dug into the knowledge he'd gained from that guidebook by James and Serie.

"Right—in it, Serie explains how the drop rate of certain rare attribute genes depends entirely on one's external luck." External luck—another concept he'd picked up from that book. Though not fully confirmed, it was an unspoken rule most adventurers seemed to believe in. Luck, apparently, was divided into two parts: external and internal. External luck didn't care about wishes, circumstances, or position—it was an uncontrollable, vast river that gave and took from people, objects, and monsters as it pleased.

Internal luck, by contrast, was like a tributary of that vast river, one that followed a person's needs, unlike the uncaring river itself. And this tributary could only be developed by acquiring more luck attribute genes.

"So getting this luck gene from some no-name E-rank dungeon is the effect of my external luck, not this attribute's own doing." He glanced at his luck stat, which had previously sat at one. The attributes shown by the system represented his internal luck, since one's external luck was, in the end, immeasurable—good or bad. Base genes also weren't the same as the genes he'd acquired through hunting.

Technically, they weren't of primitive category, the primitive category of genes only amplified the base genes by adding to it. As for the external and internal luck...

"It's probably a good thing. Otherwise I doubt I'd have made it to adulthood if my internal luck matched my external." He laughed at the thought.

"Though that would've spared me the wonderful experience of the slums." He shook his head and lay back down on the wooden platform, pulling both blankets over himself to block out the cold wind and snow. He still felt chilly, but it was far more bearable now.

"Well, good night," he said to the dark forest, and drifted off. Around evening, Nero woke to the chirping of birds and a heaviness on his chest that seemed to grow by the second.

"???" Snow—an actual mound had formed over his chest. With some effort, he turned sideways, finding the motion easier than expected, while gripping the blankets. The snow slid off and thudded to the ground.

"Sheesh, and here I thought I'd be buried alive in my sleep," he breathed in relief, standing and stretching his stiff limbs.

"Phew. Still, I didn't feel that cold while sleeping. Guess now I know why." He looked around. The night remained thick with darkness; not even a sliver of moonlight broke through the heavy clouds looming overhead. The snowfall had picked up again. Something nagged at him—he felt like he was forgetting something.

"Hmm, what could it be… wait—my monster parts!" He looked down toward the base of the tree.

"Shit, I can't even see them anymore!" He climbed down quickly, dagger and staff in hand, having kept them hanging on the trunk. Using the staff, he probed through the snow until it struck something firm, almost like hard rubber. He gathered wood, lit a fire near the trunk, and began digging out the snow, scooping it away with his hands and warming himself by the flames when the cold became too much. He repeated this until all the rat bodies were uncovered. They looked like shriveled, frozen corpses.

"At least they're not frozen solid." He began harvesting the teeth, claws, and remaining solid bones. Though made of magic-rich flesh, most of the meat had already decayed significantly—these parts tended to be among the first to break down. The harvested parts usually lasted significantly longer. According to one of the senior harvesters at Red Rats, this was because the mana within these parts was more finely integrated and matured than the rest.

Still, if left exposed within the dungeon for more than two hours, they'd be reabsorbed by the core regardless—integrated or not. That was why large parties always brought harvesters along on raids, so they could dissect the valuable parts immediately after a kill and secure them before the dungeon reclaimed them. After collecting the valuable parts and stowing them in his bag, Nero warmed some bread and jerky over the fire, ate, and reattached the dagger to his staff, forming his short spear.

He rolled the backpack over his shoulder and put out the fire.

"Wouldn't want any nearby parties spotting this and trying to third-party me." That happened often enough to duos and trios, let alone a solo adventurer like him. He switched on the lantern instead, its faint blue glow lighting the path forward as he approached the cave entrance. At the sound of his footsteps, glowing eyes began to skitter about in the dark. His body grew warmer, bracing for what lay ahead.

"Well then, hello, darkness," he said with a faint smile, clipped the lantern to his backpack, and stepped inside.