Monster (1)

She stared at the enormous cocoon that filled the living room.

The little one she traveled with had said ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the baby had turned into an egg, but no matter how she looked at it, this was far too large to be any egg. First the thing's body suddenly grew, and now it had wrapped itself into a cocoon.

Was it because she herself was still young? She couldn't figure out what kind of creature the baby was at all. No animal she had ever seen in her life had done anything like this.

Still, it didn't bother her much.

When she had crawled out of that revolting prison of liquid, she had made herself a promise — no matter what happened, she would protect the little one.

And yet, more often than not, it was the baby protecting her rather than the other way around. That fact gnawed at her.

The little one was always starving, fussing over food every single time, and there was precious little she could do about it.

Would things have been different if the tentacles that gave her strength had been stronger? Would things have been different if her own body had been bigger?

Lost in this troubled haze, she reached out a tentacle to stroke the cocoon. The moment it made contact, she flinched in shock.

An unfamiliar energy traveled down the length of her tentacle and was absorbed into her body. A rich fullness spread through her as if she had just devoured a highly nutritious meal, and strength came boiling up from within.

Addicted to that high-density energy, she couldn't bring herself to pull her tentacle away from the cocoon.

'This time feels different.'

When I had evolved from Hatchling to Juvenile, I'd been able to sense the changes around me from inside the egg, but this was nothing like that. Every sense connected to my body had been severed, and I stood alone in the darkness.

I looked down at my hands, and a pair of human hands — strange to me now — greeted me. Even my clothes were exactly what I'd been wearing before I entered the world of Space Survival.

'This must be my mental image world.'

No matter where I looked, there was nothing threatening. Only a lightless, pitch-black space stretching endlessly into the distance.

'I'm used to dark places, at least.'

Back when I was a kid, whenever my parents fought, I would always crawl under the bed or into the closet. Curling up in there with my ears plugged somehow made it easier to bear.

'That brings back old memories.'

Memories I had no desire to revisit.

I shook my head and shook off the unnecessary thoughts. 'How much time is left?'

In the game, evolving into a Sub-adult took six hours. I had no idea how long it would take in reality, but becoming a Juvenile had taken roughly the same as in the game, so this should be similar.

'What were the developers thinking, making it like this?'

Evolution was an essential pillar of playing an Amorph, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠yet they'd slapped such a brutal penalty on it. I could not for the life of me understand why. In a game where PK ran around the clock, being helplessly incapacitated for six hours was a flaw so severe you could call it a bug.

Worse, Amorphs were incapable of cooperation, so there was no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠asking a companion to stand guard while you evolved. Unless you hid somewhere no one knew about, you were almost guaranteed to get caught mid-evolution.

'There were even players who hunted nothing but Amorphs, after all.'

Plenty of people had come to hate Amorphs because of me, specifically, and innocent Amorph users had paid the price for it. A lot of them failed their evolutions, rage-quit with a shotgun blast, and logged off for good — that says it all. I'd died plenty of times myself, ambushed mid-evolution by Amorph hunters.

Failing an evolution carried no formal penalty. It was just a massive hassle — finding a new hiding spot, and then waiting out the long stretch of time all over again. Which meant it was impossible not to be furious. That's why I used to torment the hunters who interrupted my evolution far more viciously than usual.

'Looking back, I went a bit overboard myself.'

Once, some hunter recorded a video of himself getting destroyed by me and posted it to the community forum. The reaction was absolutely explosive. More precisely, the flood of resentment and blame directed at me was staggering.

"How can a person do that?" "Are you actually a real Amorph?" "He's hunting children!" — every kind of unhinged comment you could imagine.

'Tsk.'

Maybe it was the strange pull of this space filled with nothing but darkness, but the useless memories kept surfacing. If I've been given time, I should spend it usefully, not waste it. There was plenty to do once I got out — I'd need to sort out my priorities.

'Let's think while I walk.'

I took a single step.

Ripples spread outward, as if my foot had touched the surface of still water. And with that, I began walking across the black void, aimlessly.

'After evolving, I should deal with the Wolves living next door and on the fifth floor first — that'll settle the shapeshifting races, and then...'

I was mulling over how to assault the trade hub after my evolution when something dark bronze appeared and blocked my path.

'Huh?'

What had emerged from the black space was a Juvenile Amorph.

I knew it the instant I saw it. This thing was the Amorph remnant left behind inside my body. As I sank into my mental image world, the Amorph's instincts must have come along with me.

The thing bared its teeth and growled, but I wasn't the least bit frightened. If anything, it felt familiar.

I reached out my hand toward it. The creature that had been growling its threats fell silent and obediently lowered its head. The moment my hand touched its head, I woke up.

'Where am I?'

The first thing to meet my eyes as they opened was a thin membrane. A soft, sticky film of fluid was wrapped around me.

Feeling returned to my body. I was curled up the way a baby curls in the womb, arms wrapped around my legs, my long tail coiled around my waist like a belt. When I unfurled my combat arms and pushed myself upright, the film tore away with a sound like plastic peeling.

As I stood atop the shredded cocoon, a text box appeared before me.

'A message?'

This was the first time one had arrived just for evolving. Nothing like this had ever happened in the game, so I accepted the prompt, puzzled.

'They called this a new game, so I suppose there are changes.'

When I'd consumed the Psionium last time, no message like this had appeared. This seemed to be a new system that only unlocked through a proper evolution.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

I selected Confirm, and the text window filled my vision.

'The Transcendence System, huh.'

Originally, in Space Survival, trait fusion was only possible on a strict one-to-one basis. Because of that, races that leaned heavily on their traits had a hard time even remembering what they were carrying once a game dragged on long enough. By the time I reached an ending myself, I was carrying over five hundred traits, and keeping track of every single one had been a genuine ordeal.

It was such a garbage system that even I — the notorious Morph-fucker — had ground my teeth over it. So they went and overhauled it like this, of all things.

'What should I do?'

If this were a game, I'd have taken it without a second thought. But this is reality. A bad decision leads directly to serious danger. A system I know nothing about had just appeared, so I needed to weigh the fine print carefully before committing — just like the P.S. said.

'Gaining a Unique trait is a real benefit.'

In Space Survival, traits had no grades or tiers of their own. Their effectiveness was determined entirely by who wielded them and how, which was why the same trait could range from useless to devastating.

The closest thing to a rule of thumb was that fused traits were generally regarded as somewhat stronger. And among those, there existed a special handful of traits that performed overwhelmingly better than any other — the ones called 'Unique' traits.

Unique traits were extremely difficult to obtain, but their power was phenomenal. A single one was enough to flip a losing battle in an instant.

'Not that they're without drawbacks.'

Unique traits were immensely powerful, but they had one fatal weakness. Ordinary traits remained with your character even after death, but a Unique trait vanished forever the moment you died. If you wanted one again, you had to earn it from scratch. Which meant you had to handle them with extreme care.

'But this is reality, so that weakness doesn't apply?'

Death here means the end, period. The loss of a Unique trait wasn't even a consideration.

'But losing trait slots is the real risk.'

More pressing than the Unique trait's own weakness was the raw number of traits I carried. I currently held eleven physical traits. If three of them vanished, I could no longer meet the ten-trait requirement of the Physical Enhancement Type.

Someone might suggest taking the Unique trait first and simply collecting more physical traits afterward, but there's a problem with that. 'Removing a Type mid-way doesn't erase the Type penalty.'

My Psionic Enhancement Type currently demands six traits because of the Type penalty. So what happens if I lose the Physical Enhancement Type and re-earn it later? Absurdly, another penalty stacks on top — the requirement jumps from six to twelve.

'...I'll put the Transcendence System on hold.'

Physical traits were comparatively easy to come by. Honestly, the words "Unique trait" tempted me badly — but this was exactly the kind of moment that demanded caution. Even if it took a little longer, choosing the safe path was the smarter play. The right time to use the Transcendence System would come after I'd secured plenty of physical traits.

I dismissed the text window and stepped out of the cocoon.

'My size has definitely grown.'

Coming from that spacious, sprawling research vessel into this cramped little house, the increase in my body mass was impossible to miss. As I shook the shards of cocoon off my body, No. 26 came drifting over.

｢Wow!｣

[Zzzzzzzz (You've been well?)]

｢Big Baby from before! You're not going away again this time?｣

[Zzz Zzzzzz Zzzzzz (Nope. That was just a temporary change)]

She waved her tentacles this way and that, as if marveling at me.

'Huh? Tentacles?'

Now that I looked, No. 26's appearance had changed. Her body, previously a touch smaller than a human head, had grown larger still. And sprouting from her body were two tentacles.

[Zzzzzzzzzz (What are those?)]

｢These? They're new! Just grew!｣

[Zzzz (When?)]

｢When Big Baby went into the egg and I touched it, they grew!｣

With that, she gave one of the tentacles a little shake, and a wave of violet energy briefly pulsed out of it before fading away.

Seeing that, I was certain.

'A Sea Demon.'

Those tentacles were almost certainly Sawtooth Tentacles. Small and cute compared to mine, but I knew what hid inside them — razor-sharp spines like hidden blades. Drag one of those across someone's face, and the flesh would come away with it.

More than that, though, I was curious. 'Why did she suddenly evolve?'

There shouldn't have been any particular trigger. Had something happened while I was inside the cocoon? I swept my auxiliary organs over the surroundings, but there wasn't a trace of anything unusual.

'She said she touched the egg while I was mid-evolution, didn't she?'

I couldn't know the exact cause, but perhaps she had absorbed some of the energy my evolution had released. It was pure speculation — the relationship between the Bubble Amoeba and the Sea Demon remained unknown, so the conditions of her evolution were hardly something I'd understand.

｢Now I can protect Big Baby!｣

So declared No. 26, brimming with confidence. I patted her fondly, letting my pride show.

'I guessed it would happen, but it's really true.'

There was a time I'd genuinely debated whether to eat her. Not anymore. Those thoughts didn't even surface these days.

'She still looks weak, but if she's a true Sea Demon, she'll be an asset to my forces.'

The Sea Demon I'd seen had been over twenty meters long, bristling with hundreds of tentacles. If a colossal monster that had been treated as a semi-boss even in the game were to follow me, the benefits would be enormous. I had no intention of handing over any Genetic Essence, but passing along prey I didn't need was worth considering.

[Zzz Zzzzz Zzzz (Then let's go get something to eat)]

｢Yeah! Okay!｣

Maybe because I'd just finished evolving, the hunger gnawing at my empty stomach was enough to make it ache. She must have been starving too, because she agreed instantly. Fair enough — she'd been living off a single sandwich for more than six hours.

I set No. 26 on my shoulder and opened the door of the house.

Prey to whet my appetite was waiting next door.