I stayed hidden behind the log for hours, long enough for the sounds of battle to fade and the smoke to thin. Time gave me space to breathe again—to pull my thoughts out of the mud—but one thing was certain.
I wasn't human anymore.
That much was undeniable. I had a system I didn't understand in a world I didn't recognize, where monsters grew stronger by killing other monsters and humans treated that like a tool. If they realized I wasn't like the others, they wouldn't hesitate. They'd take me alive, cut me open, and figure out what I was before I even knew.
I had to become stronger—not to be a hero, just strong enough to decide whether I would be prey or not.
I swallowed. System.
Yes?
Show me my stats.
The response was instant.
HP: 10
MP: 0
Attack: Lv.1
Defense: Lv.1
Speed: Lv.1
Vitality: Lv.1
Perception: Lv.1
Resolve: Lv.1
I stared at the numbers. I don't even have MP? That's just unfair.
You do not possess abilities that consume MP.
I shifted against the log; my flesh clung to the bark, grass sticking to me as I moved. How am I supposed to survive like this? No abilities. This weak body—
Mimic Larvae are not born with abilities. You can acquire them.
I clenched my jaw. And until then?
Stop whining. It is not impossible. Even for you.
I exhaled slowly. If you were trapped in this body, you'd complain too—…but the system was right. Complaining wouldn't change anything. The only way forward was simple.
Kill something—whether I wanted to or not.
I had no choice.
I looked over the stats again. All level one. Of course this body was built to fail. I exhaled slowly, because if a human didn't end me, something in the wild would—something like that level thirty-four monstrosity.
I carefully peeked out from behind the log. Nothing. No movement, no voices, no flame—just a cold breeze moving through the trees, the forest still pretending it wasn't full of teeth.
I started moving, careful and painfully slow. Every step peeled me off the ground with sticky resistance, like my body didn't want to let go of anything it touched. The trees began to thin as a river cut through the brush ahead—clear, shallow, flowing calmly like nothing in the world was wrong.
I stopped. I didn't feel thirsty or hungry, and that bothered me.
System… what do mimics eat?
They do not eat or drink.
I let out a small, relieved breath. …Convenient. Finally—one piece of good news. At least I wouldn't have to eat monster meat. The thought made me recoil.
I edged closer to the water and saw my reflection.
My body was… wrong. My face was worse: eyes misaligned, mouth slightly off-center, features shifting subtly and never quite settling, like someone had tried to make a person out of wax and given up halfway through.
I stared.
…I really have to live with this.
The water rippled so faintly I almost missed it. I paused as my reflection blurred and tiny rings spread, my warped face smearing into the moving surface—then another face slid into place over mine.
Not mine.
At first it looked like a trick of the water, some distorted copy, until the shape held—eyes, a mouth, too close. Something was staring up at me from beneath the surface.
Not mine.
I jolted back hard, like something had yanked my spine.
Water erupted. A hideous, fish-like head burst from the surface and a massive jaw snapped shut inches from my face, rows of sharp teeth clacking together with a wet, violent sound. Air hissed through its gills, and then it dropped back under in a flash, the surface slapping closed like nothing had happened.
I stumbled backward, sticky limbs dragging, heart hammering. For a moment I saw it again just beneath the surface, circling—a pale shape cutting lazy rings through the water, eyes tracking me through the ripples. Then it sank, down into the dark, and vanished into the depths.
I swallowed hard.
Everything wants me dead.
I moved on slower now, careful and cautious about everything. Every rustle made my body tighten. Every branch swaying in the wind felt like something shifting overhead. I kept glancing back, half-expecting eyes to be watching me the moment I turned.
The forest grew denser as I pushed deeper. Shadows thickened between the trunks, swallowing distance, and my nerves stayed stretched tight, ready to snap.
Then I heard it.
Howling. Close.
My body reacted before my thoughts did. I darted behind a tree and pressed myself to the bark, forcing myself to go still—forcing myself to focus.
Two shapes emerged on a nearby ridge.
Wolves.
Large. Lean. Corded muscle under tight fur, bodies held low and ready. Even from here they didn't look like normal wolves. They resembled them—same shape, same posture—but heavier, stronger, sharper, like something had taken a wolf and pushed it past what nature was meant to allow.
They weren't hunting. They were facing each other, lips peeled back, teeth bared.
Snarling.
…Are they fighting?
They lunged and the ridge exploded into motion. One wolf feinted left, then snapped back in, claws raking across the other's shoulder as it twisted away. The second answered with its jaws, teeth clamping down hard and dragging, ripping fur and flesh in a wet line. They circled in tight bursts—darting, colliding, separating—too fast for my eyes to follow cleanly.
Claws flashed. Teeth tore. Blood sprayed across the rocks in dark streaks.
Then one wolf found an opening. It ducked under a snapping bite, drove its shoulder in, and slammed the other into the ground with a violent thud.
A cold thought formed.
If one of them dies… could I finish the other?
The dominant wolf dropped its weight and drove its jaws into the other's neck—deep, too deep. Its teeth sank past flesh and found something that held, and for a brief moment its head jerked, stuck, jaws caught as it tried to wrench free. The wounded wolf's body slackened beneath it, but the dominant one was still anchored there—trapped for that heartbeat.
My core tightened.
This is my chance.
I surged forward, sticky legs pumping, heart hammering, forcing my body to move faster than it wanted to. The dominant wolf's eyes snapped to me and for a split second we locked. It tried to reposition—shoulders shifting, hind legs digging for traction—but its jaws were still caught in the other wolf's neck, anchoring it in place. The weight of that bite dragged at its balance and made its movements clumsy.
That heartbeat was all I needed.
I threw myself into its side. It yelped and lost footing, and the force carried all three of us. The wolves went over the ridge together, still locked as they fell—and my momentum followed.
Too far.
The ground dropped away and I slid toward the edge with them. Panic spiked. I slapped my hands down and my sticky flesh caught the rock and held, dragging and tearing as it fought the slide. I spread myself wider—palms, forearms, anything I could press into the stone—forcing more of my body to stick. The pull of the drop tried to peel me free, but I held on anyway, stretching and slowing until I stopped just short of the cliff's edge.
I hung there for a breath with empty air beneath me, then pulled myself back enough to stand, breathing hard as relief hit in a shaky wave.
…That was easy.
I waited. Seconds passed. No system message, no notification. More seconds slid by, still nothing.
System.
Why didn't I level up?
You have not killed anything.
…What?
I wobbled to the edge and peered down. One wolf lay sprawled and motionless—dead. The other was still breathing, but barely, mangled from the fall and half-crushed into the dirt. One leg bent the wrong way, broken and twisted under it, ribs rising in shallow, uneven pulls. It twitched in small helpless movements like it didn't know how to finish dying.
One of them is clearly dead.
You did not kill it. It died before impact.
…That's unfair.
The injured wolf shuddered again. If I could just finish it…
I scanned the terrain. No slope. No path. Only one way down.
Jumping.
I stared at the drop, then forced my eyes to my stats.
HP: 10.
My throat tightened. If I landed on the wolf, it would break the fall—and the impact might finish it. The thought made my stomach twist.
How fast my mind went there.
I took a few breaths and tried to steady the tremor in my body.
Steady. Controlled.
…Okay.
I backed up, ran, and launched myself off the ledge screaming.
The world dropped out. Air slammed into me so hard it felt like it was trying to peel me apart. Wind howled past my ears—past whatever counted as them—ripping at my jelly-like body and hammering it from every side. My form turned unstable mid-fall: eyes sliding, mouth shifting, features smearing and resetting, parts of me stretching too far, lagging behind, then snapping back.
Like my body didn't know how to fall.
And the sky was forcing it to learn.
I hit hard. The wolf absorbed most of it—and I bounced the wrong way, once, then twice, straight toward the cliff edge.
Panic spiked. I flung an arm out just as the ground vanished beneath me. My flesh slapped against the rock face and stuck—barely. My body swung over open air, legs kicking uselessly as dirt crumbled away beneath me. For a second I felt myself slipping and my grip wavered; I didn't have full control yet, my body stretching unevenly and trembling under its own weight.
Focus.
I forced my legs up, pressed them against the stone, and used the tension of my sticky flesh to drag myself higher inch by inch, slow and straining. Finally I rolled back onto solid ground and lay there for a breath.
…Yeah. That worked.
HP: 4
The wolf lay crumpled where it had fallen—unconscious, still breathing. I pushed myself upright, limbs still trembling from the cliff edge, and shuffled toward it. I formed a crude, stubby arm and slapped it once, then twice. The wolf went still.
For a second I just stared.
The reality didn't settle gently.
It hit.
I just killed something.
The adrenaline drained all at once. My stomach lurched instinctively—then I remembered. This body couldn't vomit. Couldn't purge. Couldn't react the way it should. The sensation faded, leaving only a strange emptiness behind.
Silence pressed in.
Then the system spoke.
Achievement Unlocked: First Kill
EXP Gained: 80
Yes—
The thought slipped out before I could stop it, too quick, too eager.
That sounds like a lot.
The realization followed a heartbeat later. I'd just killed something, and the first thing I felt was… progress.
Level Up
Level Up
Level Up
Level Up
Level Up
Level Up
You are now Level 7.
I stared at the messages as they stacked. Six levels, just like that. A short laugh escaped me—tight, almost strained. Not joy. Not quite.
Relief.
Progress.
This is how I survive.
Another message appeared.
New Ability Unlocked: Mimic Copy
Mimic Copy:
Grants a low chance to copy an ability from a monster you kill.
Abilities are temporary, unstable, and may carry side effects.
My grin spread before I could stop it.
Copy abilities? That's amazing.
I kept reading: low chance, temporary, unstable, may carry side effects, and my grin faded.
…Why do I even bother.
Of course it couldn't just be simple. Still, I forced myself to check my stats.
HP: 4 / 25
MP: 5
Attack: Lv.2
Defense: Lv.2
Speed: Lv.5
Vitality: Lv.2
Perception: Lv.3
Resolve: Lv.2
That was… much better. For the first time since waking up, I didn't feel like guaranteed prey.
…I might actually survive this world.
The thought barely finished forming before something colder followed it.
Survival here wasn't about running. It wasn't about hiding. It was about killing first.
Somewhere deeper in the forest, a wolf howled again—louder this time—and it wasn't just noise. The sound rolled through the trees like a command, and the forest went dead. Not quiet—dead: wind still, leaves motionless, even the insects cutting off mid-song as if the whole region had been forced to hold its breath.
Then the undergrowth shifted.
Closer.