{Day 2}
I woke up and immediately knew two things. One, I was not dead. Two, my body actually worked today, which felt like a luxury.
The crevice had held a faint, steady warmth through the night. My muscles no longer felt like they were made of wet paper. The raw panic from yesterday had dulled into a faint feeling. I was experiencing the kind of calm you got after nearly dying, where your brain decided it would rather focus on survival than have another breakdown. I still did not trust it, though.
After day one, I trusted nothing. Not the forest, not the damn system. Nothing in this world but myself.
Waking up, I checked my status.
My HP was full again. HP. Sweet, sweet HP.
Just seeing that full bar made me want to compose a song. Something heartfelt. Nearly dying yesterday had made me appreciate the gift of life so much more. My stamina, on the other hand, was still not full. Seventy-four was decent, but it offended me on principle. Hadn't I slept enough? Surely sleeping in fear deserved a hundred out of a hundred.
Then my stomach answered the question for me.
RUMBLE.
It was a polite reminder that I had yet to have anything to eat. A full-bodied complaint from deep inside me, like my organs were staging a protest.
Right, food.
I had hatched, escaped spiders, lost my tail, and collapsed in a rock crack. Somewhere in that delightful life experience, I had forgotten that living things needed to eat.
A line blinked into existence.
[Host note: Stamina recovery is limited without food intake.]
"So you are telling me," I muttered, "that I cannot survive on trauma and spite alone?"
No response. I took that as confirmation. I eased myself out of the crevice, keeping low. The forest was grey-green in the morning light, damp air clinging to everything. Leaves overhead filtered sunlight into broken patches. The ground was littered with wet soil, moss, and rotting wood.
I did not go anywhere near the spider tree hollow. My brain had already archived that scene in the "Do Not Revisit Unless You Want Nightmares" folder.
I moved slowly along the rock, using Cling to keep my steps quiet. I scanned the area the way I used to scan a room in a game when I knew there were enemies somewhere. I needed something small. Something slow. Something edible. Preferably something that did not fight back.
My adventure for food took me on a 10-minute walk.
"Radar," I whispered to myself. "Radar. Radar."
I did not know why I did it. Perhaps I thought it would increase my chances of finding a meal. It made me feel like I was doing something proactive. I repeated it like a chant while I crept forward.
Radar. Radar. Radar.
After five minutes of this nonsense, something moved near a patch of damp grass. A caterpillar.It was green, decent-sized, and, most importantly, plump. The kind that looked like it had never missed a meal in its entire existence.
Hello, handsome.
My mouth watered in a way that made me question my dignity. I had been a human teenager yesterday. Now I was staring at a caterpillar like it was a five-star buffet. How times had changed.The caterpillar wriggled lazily in the morning warmth, completely unaware it had become the target of a desperate gecko looking for its next meal. I felt a tiny bit bad, a tiny bit. But wasn't this the circle of life? Eat or get eaten. I had just seen my siblings get digested and turned into spider soup.
Rationalising the situation made everything more digestible. The remaining human logic holding me back began to wither as I walked towards the creature.
It made a tiny noise as it shifted, a faint, wet little squeak.
How cute.
I was still going to eat it, I activated Stealth. Not that it came with invisibility or anything. It felt more like my body remembered how to be still, how to match the environment, how to become forgettable. I crept forward, careful and slow, keeping my belly close to the ground, and got close enough to strike. Now, here was the issue. I didn't have any strong attacks, just my sharp claws and fangs. Even those were small ones.
So I did what I could.
I bit down hard on the caterpillar's side. The caterpillar exploded into motion.
I am not exaggerating.
The thing thrashed around. Its body slammed against the soil, then snapped the other way, trying to fling me off like I was a bit of dirt. I hung on like a person riding a bull machine at a theme park. If I was flung away at this speed, it would practically be game over. My claws dug in deeper instinctively, as if understanding that a loose grip would result in impending doom. My body got dragged along sideways, then forwards. Then up slightly as it reared.
I swung like a pathetic ornament.
For a split second, I saw the world blur and thought, so this is it, I am going to die because I picked a fight with a worm.It bucked again and my grip slipped.
WHOOSH.
My head narrowly missed a tree root. If I had hit it, I would have turned into gecko paste, and the caterpillar would have eaten my corpse out of spite. I clamped down harder, teeth sinking deeper. I felt the caterpillar's skin tear slightly under the pressure.
It thrashed more.
How was this thing so strong? It was a caterpillar. A living tube.
Where did it get this power from? Was it training? Was it on a meal plan? Did it have a gym membership?
My arms and legs strained. My claws scraped for purchase. My jaw ached. The caterpillar's body was slick with moisture, and it made everything harder. It slammed me against the ground.Pain flashed through me.I'm pretty sure my HP had dropped.
The caterpillar rolled, trying to crush me against the earth. I twisted and held on, my body pinned awkwardly against its side. I had time to think one clear thought.This was not a normal caterpillar.This was a hulk caterpillar.
That name was now copyrighted. If anyone else in this world wanted to use it, they would have to pay me in food and emotional support.
The hulk caterpillar kept going. Three minutes of pure violence. It thrashed, rolled, bucked, and tried every possible motion to shake me loose.My body moved like a rag in a storm.
Forwards. Backwards. Sideways. Up. Down.
If you could name a direction, I had been flung that way.I realised something in the middle of it all. This was going to end with one of us exhausted. My grip tightened again as I forced my jaw to keep working. Bite. Hold. Bite again.
I was not strong enough to tear chunks off quickly, so I went for persistence. Pain. Blood. Wearing it down.The caterpillar's thrashing started to slow. Its movements lost rhythm. The violence became desperate rather than controlled. It gave one final, huge convulsion, then it sagged.
It went still.
I held on for another second, just in case it was baiting me.
It did not move.
A chime sounded in my mind.
[You have gained: 210 XP]
[You have levelled up: +2]
[HP and Stamina fully recovered]
I blinked.
Two levels, from a caterpillar. Okay, so it really had been a hulk caterpillar. I felt vindicated.
Another prompt appeared.
[Void Eater is available. Apply now?]
I stared at the dead caterpillar. Part of me wanted to save Void Eater for something stronger. Something rare. Something with an amazing skill list.Then I remembered I had nearly been killed by a caterpillar.
A caterpillar.
The bar for strong creature had shifted drastically overnight.
"Yes," I said. "Please."
A pause.
[Well done. Do you want a cookie?]
The system somehow managed to be smug through plain text.
[Void Eater activated. Select a number from 1 to 5.]
Even the worms had build options. I stared at the numbers for a second. Three had always been the magic number.
"I choose three," I said.
[Option 3 selected. Skill obtained: Bull Strength (Lv 1).]
I froze.
Then a slow grin spread across whatever facial structure I currently had.
Bull Strength.
That explained everything. That was why the caterpillar had been built like a tiny green bulldozer. ihad just fought a creature with a temporary stat boost and survived by biting it like an angry paperclip.
Honestly, I deserved a medal.
"System," I said, "please describe Bull Strength."
[Skill: Bull Strength (Lv 1). Effect: For 5 minutes, increases Host's Strength, Defence, and Speed by +5. Usable x3 per day.]
I stared at the description, then looked back at the caterpillar.
"Why did you have that?" I asked the corpse.
No answer.
Rude.
My stomach rumbled again, impatient now that the threat was over. Right. The actual point of hunting.
I ate. It was not elegant nor noble, but I didn't expect a cinematic feast. I was a gecko, and this was about my survival.The meat tasted earthy and raw and faintly bitter, but it filled the hollow ache inside me. Warmth spread through my body as my stamina settled. The world sharpened. My head cleared. For the first time since hatching, I did not feel like I was about to collapse at any moment.