[System: Warning. User's survival rate remains below 0.001%. Re-analyzing User's psychological condition... Unchangeable. Seeking alternative solutions...] The voice in Huang Feng's—the centipede's—consciousness sounded flat, yet there was a subtle vibration almost like despair behind its structured words.
Huang Feng, who was busy trying to climb a dry twig that looked like a granite cliff to him, completely ignored it. He slipped for the umpteenth time, landing on a pile of wet leaves with a soft blup.
[System: Solution search... found. Introducing the 'Evolution Point' mechanism.] The system's voice suddenly sounded more enthusiastic, as if it had found a lifeline. A new panel appeared, displaying an empty progress bar with the text [Evolution Points: 0/100].
"Evolution Points?" Huang Feng's curious voice finally replied. He stopped trying to climb and focused on the floating blue panel.
[System: Explanation: Evolution Points are a resource the User can collect by defeating or absorbing other living beings. Once enough are collected, the User can use them to evolve into a higher form, increase stats, or unlock new abilities. This is an alternative path to power without relying on the Starter Pack!] The System explained confidently, hoping for a bit of enlightenment from its uncooperative user.
Huang Feng was silent for a moment. The System could almost feel—though it was impossible—a thought spinning within the centipede's 'mind'.
"Okay," Huang Feng said finally. "I have two requests."
[System: ... Two requests?] The System gasped, metaphorically. This was new. Users usually immediately asked how to collect the points. Maybe he had finally come to his senses! Hope began to bubble in the system's code. [System: Please state your requests, User.]
"First," said Huang Feng, his voice smooth and without hesitation. "I want you to seal my Evolution Points."
[System: ... Pardon? Please repeat.]
"Seal. Lock. Don't let me use or see the progress. For... one month," Huang Feng explained, like a boss giving orders to a subordinate.
[System: Analyzing request... Illogical. The purpose of Evolution Points is to be used. Sealing them will significantly hinder User's growth. Survival rate will drop to 0.0000001%!] The System nearly shouted, if it could.
"I don't care. Second request," Huang Feng continued, without giving the system time to breathe—if it even needed to. "Also seal my venom. Whatever it is. Don't let me use it for one month."
[System: ...] The system panel flickered wildly, filled with scrambling error codes before finally disappearing. The voice sounded weak, almost a whisper. [System: Confirmation... User's request: Seal the Evolution Point mechanism and the innate Basic Venom ability of the species for 30 standard dimension calendar days?]
"Yes," Huang Feng answered curtly. "And activate... automatic mode. You handle everything. I don't want to be disturbed."
The System was silent for a long time. A very long time. The void within their shared consciousness felt emptier than usual. Finally, in a completely flat voice, devoid of any emotion, the system responded.
[System: Processing... As the User is the core of this operation, the System cannot refuse direct commands that do not *directly* endanger the User's life. Activating Automatic Sealing Mode... Seal applied.]
A small padlock icon appeared in the corner of the system panel, right next to the still-ineffective "A Very Crazy Man" title.
[System: Evolution Points have been sealed. Ability [Basic Venom] has been sealed. Duration: 720 hours. All Evolution Point gains will be collected and stored automatically without being displayed to the User. All instincts and abilities to emit venom have been disabled.]
The system's voice then faded away, leaving behind a profound sense of regret. The System had opened an alternative path, and its user had chosen to block it with a rock and shovel dirt over it. It regretted. In a very real sense, the system composed only of code and logic felt regret.
Huang Feng, on the other hand, felt very satisfied. Now, without the constant distraction of the panel talking about 'survival' and 'evolution', he could truly focus on his goal: defeating a wolf. For him, this was the best way to train. Without extra power, without venom, relying only on his skills and his proven madness.
He started crawling again. The world from a centipede's perspective was a vast battlefield full of danger. Every grain of sand was a rock, every blade of grass was a tree, and every dewdrop on a leaf was a lake.
Suddenly, a large shadow covered him. An insect—a type of ground beetle, jet black with strong pincers near its mouth—was approaching. Its size was almost twice that of Huang Feng. To the beetle, Huang Feng probably looked like an interesting snack.
"Ha," Huang Feng hissed, his mental voice full of challenge.
He didn't evade. He charged.
His first battle as an insect was messy and fierce. His human instincts—to punch, to kick—were utterly useless. He had to learn to use his new long, flexible body, with all its legs.
The ground beetle snapped with its strong pincers, trying to cut the centipede's body in two. Huang Feng moved in a wave, avoiding the pincers by a very thin margin. He tried to coil his body around the beetle, but its hard shell made it difficult to grip.
He finally used a brutal and direct strategy. He let the beetle clamp onto one of the segments of his body near the tail. A sharp pain shot through his consciousness, but it gave him an opening. While the beetle was focused on its pincer hold, Huang Feng slid forward, head-first, and slipped his front part, which had fangs (though his venom was sealed), into the narrow gap between the beetle's thorax shell and head.
He bit. And bit again. And again. Not with venom, but with raw jaw strength and unshakable determination. He tore and ripped at the soft tissue there.
The beetle flailed, trying to break free, but Huang Feng's grip—and the pain caused by the beetle's own pincer still embedded in his body—kept it from moving. It was a battle of tenacity.
After a few minutes that felt like an hour, the ground beetle finally lay still.
Huang Feng, with his injured body part, pulled away. He looked at the beetle's corpse. A strange hunger, originating from his centipede body, gnawed at him.
He didn't devour it immediately. He approached the corpse with curiosity. First, he pressed his fangs into the beetle's body, trying to inject something... but nothing came out. He remembered his venom was sealed. He growled, annoyed.
Then, he began to eat. Not ravenously, but slowly, methodically. He chewed on the soft parts he had just torn, feeling the insect's sap and flesh fill his small mouth. It was strange, but not disgusting to him. It was just... food.
Then, he found something. From the wounds he had made, a thick fluid—the insect's 'blood'—oozed out. His thirst was stronger than his hunger. He brought his mouth closer and began to suck it, slowly, savoring every precious drop of moisture.
Full and satisfied, he left the remains of the beetle carcass and continued on his way, leaving a small trail on the ground. The wound on his body throbbed, but he ignored it. It was just part of the process.
A few hours later, he encountered another opponent: a nimble jumping spider. This battle was even more fierce. The spider almost ensnared him with its web, but Huang Feng was learning. He used his long body to entangle and choke, while his many legs gripped the ground firmly. He won again, with more wounds as his reward. He again ate and sucked the body fluids of his prey.
This pattern continued for two weeks.
Huang Feng became a walking—or rather, crawling—killing machine. He attacked anything he thought he could defeat: giant woodlice, caterpillars, even smaller fellow centipedes. Each battle taught him something new about his body. He learned to use his antennae to sense vibrations of danger, learned to climb vertical surfaces more efficiently, and learned that coiling his body into a ball was a bad way to defend—unless he wanted to be stepped on.
One morning, while he was drinking dew from a leaf, he saw his own reflection in a small puddle of water below.
He stopped.
Something was different.
His size... was noticeably larger. Not just a little. From about ten centimeters before, he was now probably fifteen centimeters. His body color had also changed, from light brown to darker, almost reddish. His body segments looked thicker and more muscular. Even his antennae seemed longer and more sensitive.
He moved his body, observing the reflection. It was still a centipede, but... a fiercer, more formidable centipede.
"[System]," he called, his voice flat.
The system panel immediately appeared, still with the small padlock icon in the corner.
[System: Yes, User?] Its voice was flat, still carrying remnants of disappointment.
"You lied to me," Huang Feng accused.
[System: ... Analysis... System detected no falsehood. The System's basic principle is honesty and transparency—] The System sounded like it was defending itself.
"You sealed my Evolution Points. But why has my body grown larger? The color changed?" asked Huang Feng, staring at his now larger reflection.
The System was silent for a moment, as if performing a scan.
[System: Oh. That.] The system's voice suddenly sounded very, very tired. [System: The System did not lie. Your Evolution Points are indeed sealed and unused. The changes you are experiencing are a natural process.]
"Natural process?" Huang Feng repeated, disbelieving.
[System: Explanation: In the past two weeks, the User has killed and absorbed 47 individual living beings. Among them, at least 11 of them—including the first ground beetle, the third jumping spider, and yesterday's praying mantis—coincidentally possessed underdeveloped 'Beast Cores' of the Fur Vein Opening level.]
"Beast Cores?" Huang Feng looked up from the puddle, curious.
[System: Yes, Beast Cores are—] The System began preparing to give a long explanation, happy to finally provide useful information.
But suddenly, from behind a bush, a large, fat cricket jumped. Huang Feng immediately twisted his body, all thoughts of Beast Cores vanishing instantly, replaced by acute hunting instincts.
"Later," he cut off, and with a movement now far more agile and powerful than two weeks ago, he brutally pounced on the unfortunate cricket, beginning the next battle and meal.
The system panel hung there for a moment, watching the scene of wild violence.
Then, with a subtle vibration impossible for a machine, the panel made a sound.
[System: ... *sigh*.]
Even though the system did not breathe at all.