EPISODE 1: A second Chance.

  A god takes pity on me. Out of all souls, he picks this wreck. Now I’m thrown into the hell—no guide, no mercy—just a promise and a second chance. One I won’t waste.

  I’ll make everything right this time!

  That was the last thought I had before I opened my eyes… into this hellish dungeon.

  That God, of all places he could’ve dropped me... he picked this?

  I find myself suspended mid-air, tangled up in razor-sharp threads, even the slightest movement could inflict me minor cuts. My back is pressed against a wet, cold stone wall. Dim light flickers overhead. The air reeks of rot.

  This looks like a cave.

  More specifically, a spider nest inside a cave!

  I’m surrounded by dozens of dog-sized spiders that swarm the ground beneath me.

  Their twitching fangs dripping with saliva, and their glowing eyes lock onto me like I am their next meal.

  They start to climb up the webs, every step they take sends vibrations racing through the silk, tightening around my limbs like a noose.

  My legs are bound. My arms, pinned tight. Struggling only makes my health drop.

  I close my eyes. I pause. The air—hot, foul, soaked in rot—hits me, bringing back unwelcoming memories. Back then, it was burning flesh and melting rubber. My hand, reaching for my mother’s… and falling short.

  I snap out of it.

  “Not now” I shake my head.

  I’m given a second chance to fix everything, to go back in time. I can’t waste it on hungry spiders.

  “Dagger” I whisper.

  A shimmer of blue light pulse in the air, and the weapon forms in my hand—just like he said it would. Magic storage, he said it would come in handy.

  I twist my wrist and try to cut the web.

  But its pointless, the threads are hard like steel and I’m unable to even make a dent.

  The spiders, every time even closer, make their way up.

  A sudden switch of facial expression takes hold of me, despair. Everything is the same as always.

  My eyes rapidly move from one side to the other, finding no way out.

  My body starts shaking, cutting myself everywhere with the tight threads.

  I piss myself.

  Then—

  A glowing window blinks to life, right in front of my eyes.

  [Your health is dropping…]

  [---Status window---]

  [Name: Kaito]

  [Level: 1]

  [Health: 17 / 20]

  [Stamina: 18 / 20]

  [Mana: 10/ 10]

  [Skills: None]

  [Titles: None]

  [Conditions: Shock, Fatigue, Panic]

  Mana... That single word feels like air underwater.

  A glance of hope fills my face. I do remember him saying something about magic

  Mana he said.

  I have to find a way to somehow channel it to my blade. Is that even possible? To enhance the blade—like in animes.

  I tighten my grip on the dagger, shut my eyes, and focus.

  Forget the fear. Forget the spiders. Just find the mana.

  There has to be a sensation—something strange. Foreign. I just need to locate it.

  Where is it? My chest? My gut?

  I hold my breath.

  Silence. Stillness.

  Then—there.

  A faint warmth. Like a flicker behind my ribs, pulsing once… twice… like a second heartbeat.

  It coils in the center of my chest, not blood, not breath—something else entirely.

  The more I notice it, the more it grows—like heat pooling inside a clenched fist.

  It hums, not with sound, but with presence.

  I exhale sharply.

  That’s it. That got to be it.

  Now move!

  I grit my teeth, I imagine pulling the energy to my shoulder, then to my finger and finally to the blade.

  The warmth stirs. It resists.

  Sweat beads across my skin, mixing with the piss still dripping down my leg.

  But then—

  The dagger begins to glow.

  Faint. Unstable. Like a flickering heartbeat.

  But real.

  “It’s working!”

  The words escape me, a smile breaking across my face.

  For a moment, I forget I’m still monster food.

  Then I see them.

  Dozens of eyes. Fangs twitching. Webs trembling.

  My focus slips.

  The light dies.

  The glow fades from the blade, like a dream I wasn’t ready to wake up from.

  “Goddammit!”

  I grit my teeth and slam the dagger against the web.

  The threads shudder.

  “Come on,” I whisper, eyes locked on the glowing blade.

  “Just one clean cut and I’d be free.”

  But freedom meant falling—straight into their nest. Into their jaws.

  My breath shortens. My hands tremble. I’m falling apart all over again.

  No matter how hard I try… I’m fated to fail.

  What am I even doing here?

  I don’t know this world. I just wanted to live a regular life...

  What makes me think I can fulfill my promise to that God, to my parents?

  The truth is, I don’t belong here. Neither back there,

  … Maybe I don’t belong anywhere.

  That’s just how my life has always been.

  My name is Kaito. I’m supposed to be in high-school right now. Instead I’m in this shitty situation, but before the blood. Before the monsters.

  I knew happiness.

  I was born into a wealthy family, loved and cherished by both of my parents. Life felt like a dream.

  I was five the last time we were all together—headed to a house deep in the woods. I remember the sky. Black, endless, littered with stars. I saw one star brighter than the rest and whispered, “I hope I get to live like this forever.”

  And then, life played some tragic comedy on me from that point on…

  A truck. Wrong lane. Bright headlights. No time to evade.

  I remember the crash like it was yesterday—

  screeching metal, shattering glass, fire… and the stench of burned blood and rubber.

  My parents were slumped in the front seats covered by blood and fire.

  Unmoving. Lifeless.

  I remember reaching for my mother’s hand, then…

  Everything went black.

  -------

  The sound of the spiders gets louder, they are getting closer.

  My mind jolts back to the present.

  I shake my head hard and snap out of it.

  But something’s changed.

  My expression hardens.

  Courage rises in my chest, steady and defiant.

  That memory—

  it didn’t break me.

  It lit a fire.

  The dagger pulses in my grip, glowing with blue, crackling energy that dances along the blade.

  "Alright," I whisper, lips tight, eyes locked ahead.

  Time to start over.

  EPISODE 2

  I twist my wrist and slash.

  The web hisses as it tears apart.

  The spiders freeze, confused.

  I drop—

  Tumbling through the air—

  Then slam into the ground.

  CRACK.

  Pain explodes through my leg as it bends the wrong way.

  A scream rips from my throat.

  “Fuuuck! My leg!”

  My ankle’s broken.

  It took the full impact of the fall—

  but that’s the least of my problems now.

  The spiders shriek and leap.

  They charge—faster than before.

  This time, they’re pissed.

  I grit my teeth and force myself to move.

  The pain is blinding, but adrenaline takes over.

  I run.

  Or limp.

  Or stumble.

  Whatever gets me away—

  I do it.

  My mind races, flooded with panic, instincts, and one screaming thought:

  Don’t stop. Or you die.

  As I run, I enter what feels like a maze—

  a twisting labyrinth of tunnel-like passages branching out in every direction.

  God-knows where each path leads, but I don’t have time to hesitate.

  I have to take my chances.

  I can’t keep running like this much longer.

  I turn left into a wider tunnel—

  and that’s when I see it.

  Something strange.

  Something grotesque.

  A giant frog-like creature lies ahead—its belly split open, ribs jutting out like jagged spears.

  It should’ve been terrifying.

  But something about it felt… safe.

  Looking back, maybe it was the spider nearby—dead.

  Its body coated in a thick black rot, like dripping ink.

  It had tried to eat the frog—

  and lost.

  Poison, I figure.

  I don’t think. I just move.

  I dive into the open wound.

  Heat smothers me instantly.

  The stench is overwhelming—like rot and bile mashed into wet burning air.

  The spiders lose interest, they fear whatever this is.

  I’m safe.

  For now.

  I lay still inside the hollowed-out corpse.

  The spiders circle the area, but they don’t come close.

  They hesitate.

  They’re afraid.

  My heart slows.

  The adrenaline fades—

  and so do I.

  I pass out.

  I'm catapulted back to the night of the accident right after I lost consciousness trying to reach my mom's hand.

  In that darkness, something strange happened. I found myself floating in an empty void, weightless, as if time itself had stopped. A glowing figure appeared in the distance—me. The rest of the space was pitch black, like the world had vanished, leaving only this mirrored version of myself.

  I stepped closer, drawn to the figure like a moth to a flame. It was saying something. Then, just as I got close enough, the sound finally reached me.

  "You need to wake up. You need to know what happened. The truth."

  The moment those words hit me, the void exploded into pure white. Light surged through everything, and I felt myself being pulled—no, shoved—backwards, back into my body.

  Episode 3

  My flashback is interrupted by a sharp cold sting sensation on my ankle. The pain now is unbearable.

  I really have no time to be thinking about my past like this, especially when everything in this dungeon wants to eat me.

  I sit down, still inside the monster's carcass, and I see that all the spiders have lost interest, they were all gathered together around a huge, elephant size one. I’m guessing that’s the mother.

  Then it hits me—

  my biggest threat isn’t the web-crawlers keeping their distance.

  It’s the thing I’m hiding inside.

  My skin sizzles wherever the monster’s blood touched it—

  turning black with rot.

  The corruption spreads slowly, crawling across my flesh like it’s alive.

  I grit my teeth.

  Shit…

  This stuff is bad news.

  Toxic. Poisonous as hell.

  The arachnids weren’t just ignoring the corpse… they were afraid of it.

  At least I’m alive, there might be some herbs I can find here to treat the poison, but I made it, I survived that. I said to myself, and just like in the past, I summoned bad luck.

  The corpse shifts.

  I hear a twitch.

  A tremor.

  The muscles beneath me tighten.

  “No. no, no—don’t tell me…” I let out loud.

  The frog—if that’s even what this is—shudders violently, its innards convulsing around me like a living prison. Blood, guts and the black poison enveloped my body.

  It wasn’t dead.

  Or maybe it was… and now it’s not.

  “Please—stop! Don’t move! “

  “Just, stay dead!”

  The corpse spasms again, worse than before. Muscles twisting around me.

  Its rotting blood surges through each cavity, splashing down on my skin, rotting wherever it landed.

  The poison seeps through the wounds, into my pores, licking its way across every exposed inch of me like a living creature with a mind of its own.

  The scream catches in my throat.

  “This thing it’s killing me!”

  I draw my dagger and plunge it deep into its flesh. Breaking bones and tissues. Again. And again. And again.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  A frenzy takes hold of me. Blood sprays, sizzling against my arms, and face—everywhere it touches it infects with sick-black rotting disease, but I don’t stop.

  I stab with everything I have, teeth clenching, vision blurring. My body keeps moving on its own.

  “Stop!”

  “Don’t move.”

  “Don’t you fucking moveee!”

  The world sways. Shadows smear at the edges of my sight. I drop on my knees, coughing hard—a warm, metallic taste flooding my mouth. Blood splatter the ground. My grip loosens. My breaths comes shallow, ragged. The light is fading.

  And then—

  A pulse.

  The frog's body shudders once more.

  Then goes still.

  No more spasms. No more hissing breath.

  Just silence.

  The monster's blood slowly stops dripping.

  I slump forward, gasping.

  My lungs burn, barely pulling in air as the sickness spreads like fire through my veins.

  That dark, crawling disease wraps around me, coils beneath my skin, swallowing me whole.

  My vision blurs—a haze of blood and shadow.

  The ground tilts. I collapse, curling in on myself, dragging my limbs close like a dying animal.

  Every heartbeat feels like it's crushing my chest.

  I can’t breathe.

  Only pain. Only the stench of rot.

  And just when I think it’s over—when the black is about to swallow me—

  Something flickers.

  A glowing message, suspended in the air:

  [Skill Acquired: Black Poisonous Blood]

  I cough—wet, sharp, blood speckling my lips. My body trembles as I look up at the glowing message, my eyes barely able to focus.

  A crooked smile crept across appears in my face.

  (raspy, half-laughing):

  “Heh… a skill, huh?

  “Well… at least I’m not dying empty-handed.”

  Cough again—harder this time. My ribs scream in protest.

  The laugh dies in my throat, replaced by a groan that rattles all the way down my spine.

  And then—I feel it.

  A strange sensation, crawling up from both my feet.

  Cold at first… then burning.

  “AAAGGHH—!”

  The scream rips from my throat, raw and broken, echoing through the cave like a dying animal. The walls throw it back at me, again and again, until it feels like the whole dungeon is screaming with me.

  EPISODE 4

  My whole body starts to tremble and shake, like I’m possessed—then it just… stops.

  The black, pulsing sickness begins to retreat—slowly, steadily.

  It peels away from my skin like smoke in reverse, fading upward, unraveling itself as if the body no longer welcomes it.

  Veins once swollen and discolored smooth beneath my skin.

  The rot lifts from my limbs and climbs toward my scalp, dragging the darkness with it, like if it was being exorcised.

  My hair starts to turn pitch black.

  Then, as if scorched from the inside out, every strand gets loosens.

  One by one, they fall.

  Floating. Twisting. Landing in the blood pooling around me, but I yet to realize any of this.

  As I gain awareness and my senses come back, I slowly glance down at both arms—

  The rot was gone. The black patches, the bubbling flesh—faded like a bad dream.

  Slowly stand up, shaky, open up the cavity and craw out of the monster’s cadaver. A ray of light hits my skin, warm and wet, but not burning anymore.

  “I’m alive? But… how? Was it that new skill?”

  I blink, then look down at the floor.

  “…Wait. What’s with all this hair?”

  My voice cracks.

  “Is this mine? Is this—my hair?!”

  I Run my hand through my head—and feel, nothing…

  No hair. Not a single strand.

  My fingers brush over smooth skin.

  Bald.

  “No freaking way… I’m bald now?!”

  I see myself in the reflection of the pool of blood, its surface gleaming faintly like polished steel.

  So, power comes with baldness now? Just like freaking Saitama?

  With a weary laugh, I tilt my head back and sigh.

  “Great. Save the world, he said. Be the hero, he said. And now I look like a goddamn egg.”

  Clenching fists, accelerating heartrate.

  “Man, screw this ! “

  Take a deep breath, relax, we got bigger problems here...

  “…But, really though… what the hell just happened?”

  Still shaking, I focus on my status window. A familiar hum responds

  [---Status window---]

  Lines of glowing text shimmer into view, one pulsing brighter than the rest.

  ---

  [New Skill Acquired: Black Poisonous Blood]

  [Type: Passive]

  [Effect: Makes your blood poisonous. Grants resistance to most types of poisons. Resistance increases slightly with continue exposure.]

  [Side Effect: May cause monsters to avoid you if your blood is exposed.]

  ---

  My eyes scan the description, inhale still uneven.

  “Resistance to poison… that’s why I’m still alive,” I mutter.

  Glance down at my body—skin still raw, but the black sickness now just a memory.

  It all clicks!

  The pain, the strange burning, the recovery—it was the skill. It saved me!

  “So that’s how this works… survive the nightmare, and you get something out of it huh?.”

  Just as I finish my last words, I collapse face-first to the floor.

  Then, a strange sound—horrifying and chilling. A low growl, echoing off the walls, vibrating through the ground. It stirs the air, sharp enough to raise goosebumps.

  It continues—uneven, guttural, almost… alive.

  Episode 5

  It’s him—Kaito. Unconscious now, his body finally surrendering to exhaustion after everything it has endured.

  But inside that broken frame… something stirs.

  A memory.

  I wish I’d gained a skill when I survived the accident back then.

  But all I remember is my reflection screaming, “Wake up.”

  My eyes barely fluttered open. I was still trapped in the wreckage—everything hurt, vision shaky.

  I saw something...

  Something I wasn’t supposed to see.

  Through the cracked windshield, I caught a glimpse of the truck’s cabin. The driver had stepped out—unscathed. He circled to the passenger side, dragged out an unconscious man, and slumped him into the driver’s seat. Then, without hesitation, he wiped down the steering wheel and door, tossed off a pair of gloves, and walked away.

  A black car waited for him on the side of the road.

  He got in and disappeared into the night.

  That’s when it hit me—this wasn’t an accident. It was staged. Someone wanted us dead, and I am the only one who knows.

  That day, I swore I’d avenge my parents.

  But the memory doesn’t end. The pressure builds—first around his chest, then arms, almost everything. It’s like the air itself is turning solid. Crushing. Suffocating him.

  Kaito gasps awake—

  —and freezes.

  “What the heck is this!”

  EPISODE 6

  I’m buried beneath dozens of basketball-sized, blue slimes—cool, gelatinous, translucent creatures that pulse faintly with inner light. They jiggle with every breath I take, like they’re syncing with me.

  Instinct kicks in. I thrash—arms flailing as I knock two of them off my chest. They hit the ground with soft, wet splats. But… they don’t retaliate. They just wobble in place, blinking slowly. Almost like they’re… confused?

  “What are you doing to my body?!” I shout, my voice echoing through the cave. “What the heck is this?! I’m covered in this disgusting, saliva-like slimy coat!”

  I swat at them with a shiver, knocking a few off.

  But then—I notice something.

  My ankle.

  The one that I had broken with the fall.

  It doesn’t hurt.

  Cautiously, I lift my leg. One of the slimes clings to it, glowing softly. Through its translucent body, I can see it absorbing and dissolving the dried blood, torn tissues, and even fragments of bones.

  As the injured matter melts into the creature’s body, a darker shade of blue forms and pulses downward, lighting up the entire slime from within.

  The glow trails to a specific point—an exit area near its base—where the processed energy is released directly onto the wound.

  Wet. Cold. Slimy pop.

  That… heals?

  Am I supposed to say thank you or be upset?

  “Get out of here, I’m good now, thanks—sheesh,” I mutter, standing up and peeling the rest of them off me. My skin’s slick with slime goo. “Ugh. I seriously need a bath. This is disgusting.”

  Just then, my stomach growls like a beast, and the moment I take a step—I nearly collapse.

  What the hell?

  I’m healed. I got sleep. So why do I feel like I just ran a marathon underwater?

  Confused, I open my status window—

  And sink.

  [---Status window---]

  [Name: Kaito]

  [Level: 1]

  [Health: 20 / 20]

  [Stamina: 20 / 20]

  [Mana: 2/ 10]

  [Skills: None]

  [Titles: None]

  [Conditions: Critical Mana Levels]

  The slimes didn’t just eat and replaced away my wounds, blood, and broken bones…

  They drained my mana.

  Sure, they replaced everything with fresh tissue and clean bone. I’m technically full health. But those adorable blue blobs…

  They almost killed me.

  Figures.

  Everything in this world wants to eat you—one way or another.

  The light’s fading… the sun must be setting above. Everything’s getting pitch dark down here.

  Guess this dungeon is like a complex underground cave system—with cracks or holes somewhere up top letting sunlight leak in. Feels more like an ant maze than anything else.

  To my surprise, a soft light begins to bloom from cracks in the walls.

  Luminous mushrooms—pale blue and gently pulsing—emerge like stars in the dark, slowly lighting up the cavern.

  They bathe the stone in a faint, ethereal glow, turning the cold, damp walls into something almost… beautiful.

  Cozy, even.

  For a moment, I forget just how horrifying this place really is.

  I need to find water, food, and better shelter if I want to survive in this place.

  I don’t plan on moving much today.

  For now, this monster’s cadaver is my shelter—

  and, unfortunately, my only source of food.

  Raw meat.

  Not ideal.

  But it'll have to do… for now.

  The stench is unbearable.

  Even after hours, it still clings to everything—

  my skin, my throat, my mind.

  I draw the blade and tear off a “clean” chunk.

  The steel sticks to sinew and blackened muscle.

  It resists—

  like I’m sawing through old tire.

  I stare at it for a long moment.

  My stomach growls again—louder this time.

  No fire. No spices. No tools to clean it.

  Just my hunger… and a rotting corpse.

  “Alright,” I mutter. “Don’t die.”

  I bite into it.

  The taste hits like a punch to the throat—

  sour, metallic, and bitter.

  So bitter it makes my teeth ache.

  I gag. Cough. Almost spit it out.

  But I force it down.

  Chew slower.

  Swallow.

  Then the pain starts.

  A sharp heat twists through my gut.

  My skin goes clammy.

  I drop the rest of the meat and fall to my knees, clutching my stomach.

  [---Status window---]

  [Status Effect: Poisoned]

  I double over, coughing so hard my chest burns.

  Something clinks against the stone floor—

  teeth.

  My teeth.

  I stare at them in horror.

  Blackened. Cracked.

  Rotted from the inside out.

  The poison is eating me alive.

  My stomach twists violently, letting out a groan so loud it almost sounds human.

  I match it with my own scream—raw and desperate.

  “Fuuuck—! Come on, bear it… bear it, dammit! I have to survive!”

  My hand trembles as I bring the half-chewed meat back to my mouth.

  My vision pulses, each heartbeat pounding like thunder in my skull.

  “Just one more bite…”

  I bite down—knowing it could kill me.

  But I also know...

  I didn’t come this far just to starve to death.

  Then it kicks in—the thing I’ve been betting my life on.

  The system flashes before my eyes, a glowing message cutting through the pain:

  [---Status window---]

  [Passive Skill Activated: Black Poisonous Blood]

  [Toxins detected. Neutralizing...]

  [Status Effect: Poison — nullified.]

  Relief hits me like a wave.

  I smile.

  The searing in my veins dulls.

  My hands stop shaking.

  The pain melts away—slow, steady.

  Proof that my gamble pays off.

  I win.

  With what little strength I have left, I curl up inside the frog’s carcass.

  Warm. Disgusting.

  But safe.

  The stench doesn’t matter anymore.

  Not tonight.

  There isn’t much I can do right now.

  My guess? I need time to recover my mana.

  Even though I’m not technically fatigued… I feel like it.

  Maybe I’m not supposed to let my mana drop below 4. That could be it.

  I decide to stay put and meditate.

  I need to get a better feel for this mana—

  to be able to infuse my weapon in an instant when I need it most.

  I can’t afford to take forever just to focus and activate it.

  I also want to test where I can move it.

  My legs? My head? My whole body?

  So many questions.

  Does mana reinforce my body too, or is it just for weapons and tools?

  For now, I’ll focus on feeling it.

  Tracking it.

  The fact that my mana is so low makes the exercise harder—

  but if I can learn to use it now, when I’m running on fumes…

  then doing it at full mana will be a piece of cake.

  … I let the darkness take me.

  At first, there’s nothing—just the echo of my own heartbeat and the distant, wet sounds of the dungeon.

  But then, beneath it all, a faint warmth stirs in my chest. I chase it, reaching out with my mind the way I did before.

  The sensation slips away, slippery and thin, but I keep at it.

  Minutes pass. Maybe hours.

  My legs cramp. My back aches. The stink is still everywhere.

  But then I catch it—a pulse, weak but steady, like a tiny thread of fire.

  I picture it moving, try to guide it down my arm, to my fingertips, then up toward my head.

  The feeling flickers, fades, returns—never quite strong enough, but always there if I reach for it.

  A system message blinks at the edge of my vision:

  [Mana Manipulation : 7% → 8%]

  A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. Progress—slow, but real.

  I let my breath out, let my body relax. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll have more energy. Maybe I’ll even have answers.

  But for now, I’m alive.

  That’s enough.

  I drift off to sleep inside the warmth of the corpse, the smell barely registering anymore.

  EPISODE 7

  Blop. Blop. Blop.

  Wet, bouncing sounds echo through the tunnel.

  I crack one eye open.

  Slimes. Again?

  They’re eating my shelter.

  My damn house!

  I jolt upright.

  “Dammit—” I growl, grabbing my blade.

  I swing.

  Slash through one in a clean arc.

  Schlk—Splurt!

  It explodes, spraying slime everywhere.

  It’s disgusting—

  but I’m not surprised how easy they are to kill.

  Wait a second…

  Maybe I can get a skill from these things.

  I stand up.

  Then I go after them—

  every single one in sight.

  Slime after slime bursts apart beneath my blade.

  Sticky, wet, mindless work.

  But after a long stretch of nothing but exploding goo and silence…

  I realize they’re not going to drop anything.

  Of course.

  The God did mention it—

  the easier a monster is to kill, the lower the chance it drops a skill.

  I stare at the trail of half-burst slimes behind me, goo bubbling on the stone floor.

  No messages. No changes.

  Just mess.

  But just before the last of the slimes finish stripping the frog carcass, I dig through the remaining tissue and yank out twenty long bones.

  They’re light, curved, solid.

  I sharpen them on stone. Turn them into crude spears.

  Won’t win any wars with them, but they'll work if I aim right.

  I lower my blade, breathing through my nose, slow and steady.

  Across the tunnel, something shifts—barely visible, but I see it.

  There they are.

  Spiders. Small ones.

  Not like the one that almost killed me, but close.

  They move in tight patterns—silent, sharp, efficient.

  Definitely not slimes.

  I crouch behind a jagged rock and narrow my eyes.

  No way I can just rush in.

  The second I hit one, the rest will know.

  They’ll come for me—fast.

  Okay, I need a plan.

  I’ll watch from the shadows—

  see how they move, how they hunt, how they react.

  Figure out what they’re capable of before I make my move.

  Before stepping out, I press the dagger to my shoulder.

  One shallow cut. Then another on the other side.

  Just enough to let the black blood trickle down.

  The poison seeps into the air—sharp, acrid, unnatural.

  Most monsters avoid it. A warning sign they understand better than I do.

  Good. Let them keep their distance.

  I settle into the dark.

  And I wait.

  For days, I stay hidden.

  Motionless. Silent. Watching.

  Every night, I chew down mushrooms growing along the cavern walls.

  They taste like rot. Burn going down.

  The first few nearly kill me.

  But I don’t stop.

  My stomach twists. My throat swells. My vision blurs.

  Still—I survive.

  Barely.

  By the fourth night, I stop vomiting.

  The bitterness still bites, but my body adapts.

  [Blood Poison] levels up.

  Small comfort. But in this world, I take what I can get.

  Water? Still nothing.

  By day three, the spiders change.

  They move quicker—jump farther. Their reactions sharpen.

  I watch one leap from a wall to a ceiling. Fast. Clean. No hesitation.

  Skill growth. Natural, instinctive.

  They also start using webs—

  thin, weak strands that shimmer faintly in the dark.

  One sticks to my forearm. I test it.

  It holds for a second—then my dagger slices through with ease.

  No mana required.

  Later, I let one thread touch my shoulder.

  The web hisses.

  Dissolves against my blood like sugar in acid.

  They notice me sometimes. I can feel their gaze.

  Tiny eyes glimmer in the dark.

  They pause. Stare. Then scurry off.

  They don’t attack.

  They don’t seem afraid.

  Just… uninterested.

  Like I’m not worth their time.

  Like I’m already marked for death.

  Or maybe—

  they smell what I’ve become.

  Either way, it’s a mistake.

  And soon, I’ll prove it.

  My thirst is getting worse.

  If things stay like this, I’ll last maybe two more days—three if I’m lucky.

  The mushrooms keep me alive, but they don’t hydrate me enough.

  Neither do the water droplets that drip down the cave walls—too little.

  If I want to survive...

  I have to hunt.

  And I have to eat those baby spiders.

  There are about thirty of them—maybe more.

  And one big one.

  The mother.

  She leaves every day, just before the first rays of sunlight find their way through the cracks in the cave—

  bathing the place in soft light.

  Like clockwork, the mushrooms and other plants react—

  curling back and hiding deep inside the wall’s crevices.

  The glowing vines that cling to the stone—those weird, luminous things—

  shrink and vanish the moment the light touches them.

  And that’s her signal.

  She slips out through the upper passage, vanishing into the labyrinth of tunnels.

  And she doesn’t come back until the sun is nearly gone—

  roughly ten hours later.

  When she returns, she’s always dragging something behind her.

  Some weird monster—wrapped tight in webs like a cocoon.

  I can’t tell what it is. Too much silk.

  She’s feeding them.

  That window of time—while she’s gone—

  that’s my shot.

  If I’m going to take them out, it has to be then.

  [---Status window---]

  [Name: Kaito]

  [Level 1 | XP: 90%]

  [Health: 20 / 20]

  [Stamina: 18/ 20]

  [Mana: 10/ 10]

  [Mana Manipulation: 13%]

  [Skills: Black Poisonous Blood]

  [Titles: None]

  [Conditions: Normal]

  EPISODE 8

  I put my plan into motion.

  First, I collect every stick I can find—some snapped from broken roots, others pried from the cave walls. Then, I harvest strands of web. They’re sticky, elastic, surprisingly strong—perfect for binding.

  From my inventory, I pull out the curved bone I saved from the frog monster. I lash it to a thick branch using spider silk, wrapping it tight until it holds firm.

  A crude pickaxe.

  Ugly—but it gets the job done.

  I dig slow, methodically—one hole at a time, from wall to wall across the tunnel.

  Each time I scoop out dirt and stone, I use along with some sticks to hide the holes, the rest I carry it slowly to another tunnel and scatter it.

  No piles. No clues.

  It takes me three days.

  Once the pits are deep enough, I jam sharpened sticks at the bottom—angled up like fangs.

  Deadly. Hidden.

  When the last one is covered with dust and web to disguise it, I crouch back, wipe the sweat from my brow, and whisper:

  “I’m ready for those spiders.”

  The next morning, just before the sunlight crawls into the cave, the vines shrink back into the stone.

  The mother spider slips out like clockwork, vanishing through the upper tunnel.

  My cue.

  I draw my dagger, press it against a thin line of my own blood already pooled in a cloth scrap, and coat the blade.

  Thick. Black. Poisonous.

  The baby spiders—dozens of them—are balled together in the center of their web, curled and waiting for food. Asleep.

  I climb silently up the side of the wall, gripping web strands like ropes, and reach the ceiling.

  One by one, I press every remaining spike I made into the web above them—angled downward, aimed directly at their soft cluster.

  When they’re all in place, like a ball, I bite the inside of my cheek, slice the palm of my hand, and spit—making sure it spreads wide—

  then let the blood spray down, raining black hell on them.

  It hits them hard.

  They jolt, twitch, hiss—confused.

  Poison seeps in.

  I don’t give them time to recover.

  I cut the threads holding the spikes, almost falling myself.

  A rain of sharpened wood and bones all which contained my blood, crashes down—crushing, piercing, splitting and poisoning the nest apart in seconds.

  When the dust settles, more than half are dead.

  The ball is ripped open— blood, guts and twitching legs everywhere.

  I count only twelve remaining.

  Alive—but bleeding.

  Injured.

  And now… they know I’m here.

  A glowing sign flashes in front of me:

  [LEVEL UP – LEVEL UP]

  [NEW BASIC SKILL OBTAINED]

  [NEW BASIC SKILL OBTAINED]

  [YOU CAN NOW USE: LEAP]

  [YOU CAN NOW USE: ACCELERATION]

  “This might be helpful” I mutter, eyes narrowing. the remaining spiders are coming for me!”

  They begin scaling the web toward me, fast and twitching with rage.

  I leap down onto one of the corpses below, using it to cushion my fall.

  The bones crunch beneath me, but I roll off and scramble to my feet.

  I run—leading the remaining spiders straight toward the trap I prepared.

  They follow fast, screeching, their legs skittering over the web-covered walls.

  Right before they reach me, I activate Leap.

  My body surges upward—lighter, faster than before—

  and I launch just in time to escape their reach.

  They don’t expect it.

  They don’t even see the trap until it’s too late.

  Their momentum carries them forward—

  right into the holes.

  A sickening crunch follows.

  Instant death for most of them.

  Only two remain. Still alive. Still charging.

  I spot the bone pickaxe—within reach.

  Just in time.

  Both spiders leap at me at once, legs outstretched, jaws snapping.

  I lunge forward and grab the weapon.

  With everything I’ve got, I swing.

  The sharpened bone sinks deep into the first spider’s head—

  the impact so strong, the second one beside it is knocked sideways by the force.

  It hits the ground to my left, twitching.

  The one I struck lies still—pickaxe stuck between its eyes, blood pooling beneath it.

  The second one shakes violently, claws scraping the ground.

  Then it turns its gaze back toward me—

  still alive.

  Still coming.

  And now, it’s furious.