Chapter 4
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Nest-Building Crow
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- Crow's Eye LV1
- Bird's Wisdom LV1
I'd leaped all the way up to Little Crow LV2.
...Though honestly, I had no idea what the difference was, but good things were good, right?
My body felt a bit bigger, maybe?
Eating one acorn and leveling up didn't quite make sense, but after mulling it over, it wasn't entirely implausible.
I hadn't just picked up a fallen acorn off the ground—I'd stolen and eaten an acorn from a monster squirrel. That was an achievement.
I didn't know the exact criteria for EXP accumulation and level-ups, but thinking of it that way made it seem justified.
I took a short break to check my status.
For starters, this gray feather on my chest.
When I plucked it out with my beak, the trait vanished, and when I hastily shoved it back in, it reactivated without issue.
Obviously, pulling out the feather meant losing the trait.
My beak would go from sturdy to soft.
I'd once pondered how a baby crow could survive this brutal world.
But things were different now.
I wasn't just any crow.
I was a crow that could steal others' traits.
...Still just a Little Crow, though.
Crow's Eye LV1
The eyes of a crow that loves shiny things. Allows viewing more information and distinguishing shiny objects.
This skill seemed to be the source of my ability to steal others' traits.
Let's break down the description.
"Allows viewing more information."
That probably meant I could see other creatures' status windows.
Being able to view their traits and skills was a pretty solid ability.
Hadn't I used their habits and traits to pit them against each other just now?
And the next part.
"Distinguishing shiny objects."
At first, I thought it was just flavor text.
You know, crows are known for collecting shiny things.
Like picking up coins and such.
In my case, it was half-right.
The shiny acorn I'd seen.
And the shiny caterpillar's feather.
Maybe Crow's Eye let me discern objects of value to me?
This gray feather stuck in my body—the Mountain Eater's feather—felt off too.
It wouldn't make sense to call it a "caterpillar's feather."
But I'd definitely plucked it from the Mountain Eater.
The shiny glow caught my eye, and I'd yanked it out with my beak.
Maybe traits I could steal manifested as feathers?
It was just a hypothesis, but it seemed plausible.
By collecting feathers from others like this, I could eventually pick up something like a "Gigantification Feather" or "Dragon Breath Feather" and become the world's strongest crow.
Of course, right now I was just a Little Crow.
Maybe I was a late-bloomer type character.
...I didn't want to think about it, but no matter how I looked at it, this crow matched the character I'd created.
An extreme late-bloomer build I'd put together.
I didn't remember making a crow, but it fit weirdly well.
The traits I'd picked even lined up on closer inspection.
[Dark Fantasy]
[Shabby Start]
[Material Desire]
[Twist]
[Eternal Night]
[Ominous Aura]
The problem was these debuffs.
First off, the genre was Dark Fantasy.
It wasn't pitch-black yet, but the setting was far from ordinary.
If squirrels and caterpillars were that monstrous, it fit Dark Fantasy perfectly.
Next, Shabby Start.
Could there be a shabbier beginning than this?
I'd been tossed out the window right after hatching.
If luck hadn't been on my side, I'd have died on the spot.
Material Desire.
In a situation where I should've fled, I couldn't resist the shiny thing.
That had to be its influence.
These three were at least tolerable traits.
I'd experienced them and could guess how they worked.
But the other three were total mysteries.
Especially Eternal Night.
What the hell did that mean?
If it meant no sun rose, that wasn't it—the sun was up, even if it was a bit dim.
So maybe metaphorical...?
No way to tell right now.
Twist and Ominous Aura were the same.
"Caw..."
I shook my head side to side a few times.
No point dwelling on unsolvable puzzles.
Better to use my time efficiently.
My immediate goal was surviving here, after all.
I shook off the thoughts and stood up.
Stomach full, water sourced from the puddle.
So what now?
Build a safe nest to survive the cold night.
When people think of bird nests, they imagine tree hollows or twig piles on branches.
Crows usually built like that too.
High up to protect from predators.
But me right now?
I couldn't fly.
It was common sense that fluffy baby birds couldn't take to the skies.
In other words, building on a tree like other crows was impossible.
So what to do?
Just give up?
Or find a way to climb the tree?
Nah, there were plenty of birds in the same boat as me.
Chickens—the top animal humans ate—couldn't fly, nor could the adorably huge kākāpō parrot.
They built nests on the ground.
Riskier than trees, sure, but livable.
And what bird was I?
The smartest ones around—crows.
Plus, with a human mind, I could make a nest leagues beyond the ordinary. Safe as houses.
I placed my honorable trophy—the acorn helmet—on my head and set out scouting.
It sounded like it might boost defense by 2 points, but alas, no effect.
Not even a real helmet.
Just the inedible cap of an acorn perched atop my head.
Might not even be an acorn.
So what should I call this thing I was wearing?
Unknown, but it felt reassuringly sturdy.
No actual buffs, but damn, it was tough.
Even my beak, which cracked the nut inside, couldn't scratch it.
...Tch. If that squirrel had fought holding this upside down, wouldn't it have been even stronger?
Musing on the intelligence of local wildlife, I toddled along.
Wings instead of hands were inconvenient, but using my beak was getting easier.
I gathered twigs and dry grass, then headed to a spot I'd scouted earlier.
A natural fortress where a rotten tree stump met a rock.
Way better than bare ground—plenty of cover.
Scratch scratch!
My fairly large baby bird feet, plus the acorn helmet, dug out a burrow my size in no time.
Pretty satisfying already, but I aimed for the best.
The best for me now? A nest I could handle any situation from.
Even if attacked, I needed an escape for my body.
Scratch scratch scratch!
"Cheep..."
A pretty snazzy nest took shape.
Front and back shielded by tree and rock—hard to spot, and even if noticed, most would pass it by as too much hassle.
Plus, I'd added an emergency exit for worst-case scenarios. Safety guaranteed.
"Caw caw."
Crows love shiny things.
If even Crow's Eye approved, it was objectively well-made.
Sky darkening, I wrapped up.
Birds had poor night vision by common knowledge, so time to stop and rest.
I darted inside.
Didn't forget to seal the entrance with dry leaves.
Pretty cozy.
Fluffy down, no draft—body heat holding steady.
I curled up and closed my eyes.
Today's survival: decently handled.
So many questions.
Did I really die? If so, why reborn as a crow?
That woman I saw when I first opened my eyes here.
She'd watched me hatch, so maybe a clue.
But finding her now? Impossible.
She lived in a cabin high in the trees.
And even if I did, a crow couldn't communicate.
Given how she'd chucked me out, I might end up as roast crow.
"Caw..."
Pondering her now was a luxury.
I was a crow regardless, and survival was priority one.
"Zzz..."
Sleep started crashing in.
Early to bed, early to rise—scout tomorrow's grub then.
Acorns had a nutty charm, but they didn't satisfy my human palate.
Meat would be ideal.
Maybe poke around the tree stump tomorrow?
Rotten wood ought to have fat grubs.
...Whether I could stomach them was another story.
Already missing human food.
Crispy batter and tender meat—pure bliss.
Paired with cold beer or cola, chicken hit different.
Not a crime to dream of chicken, even as a fellow bird, right?
Chicken on the brain must've been why I smelled grease.
"Zzz?"
My nose twitched at the scent.
No doubt.
This was chicken aroma!
Before flapping out, one thought hit.
Why?
Why the chicken smell?
Nothing here could produce it.
Realization dawned—I snapped awake.
"Cheep..."
My body, deep in the nest, was half-out already.
I'd nearly bolted at a phantom chicken whiff.
New bed messing with my sleep-talk, huh.
That smell earlier was surely a dream...
Why wouldn't it stop?
As the question formed, a plump, wriggling earthworm squirmed before me.
A worm? Where'd you come from?
Was that your scent?
Eager to be Little Crow chow, eh?
Not chicken, but I'll gratefully chow down.
Resisted Charm!
...That wasn't some worm.
Just bait.
The real threat crouched outside the burrow, waiting.
And its name was...
Phishing Snake LV8
Phishing Snake?
What kind of backwater is this where snakes go fishing?