Not Grateful At All – An Indoor Zoo in the New Cliffside House

I'd acquired a new mount. Unlike the centipede, this one was covered in fluffy fur. Stiff like broom bristles, but the ride was comfortable enough. A massive frame rivaling a lion's, with a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sturdy, thick neck topped by a plush mane—perfect for me to coil up and rest.

'Dotbakyi!'

"Kyaaang!"

My pet Dotbakyi (not a dog—Fanged Hyena lv31, stronger than expected) was the new mount's true identity. Maybe because I'd fed it well, but she was surprisingly docile. After naming her and bonding a bit, she started understanding my intentions right away. Sorry, Nanaruk, but she obeyed me as well as you did back when we first met. Strange, really. My centipede buddy seemed to get me too. I asked Pellelian, but even he couldn't give a straight answer.

I tapped Dotbakyi's neck three times. That was the signal to go. With me aboard, she started walking. A true villain rides a hyena, as anyone could see from that terrifying lion uncle in The Lion King.

Riding Dotbakyi proudly, I entered the indoor zoo. It had been a week since I started staying here. In that time, I'd begun dominating the monsters inside. Any that bared teeth at me got a firestorm baptism. Shit-throwers had limbs broken. Fakers who pretended submission only to lunge became my meal. Not all the captives here were pushovers. The real heavy hitters were in the outdoor zoo (aka outside), per the breeding journal. But Deshunan's indoor picks weren't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠weaklings either. This was deep in the Great Forest, and he was a powerful shadow elf.

There were monsters here that could level me up and ones worth borrowing skills from.

"Kiiing, kiiing."

"Whiiiine."

The monsters at the indoor zoo's entrance all submitted to me. Their signs of surrender varied—some flopped over belly-up, others slammed heads to the ground, still others curled small to show harmlessness. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I scattered feed for them. They devoured it greedily, gazing at me with respect. And with that, Dotbakyi held her head higher, prouder. Envy flickered in some monsters' eyes.

—You know how to command the underlings.

Pellelian nodded approvingly. As the quickest to submit and most loyal, Dotbakyi got special treatment—no cage, unlike the others. She redoubled her loyalty to me, and the rest strove to be like her. Of course, not all complied.

Deeper in, fewer took submissive postures. Right—these weren't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ordinary beasts; they were monsters. Ones that'd rip my throat given half a chance, drooling for the magic stone in my heart. Still, few attacked first now.

True to its name, the zoo had barred enclosures by section, some shared, some solo. This one ahead was solo too. Trees planted, rocks piled into a cave—all draped in webs. From the cave's black depths, red eyes floated up.

Seeing that name, I sensed bad blood. I'd eaten a Crimson Tarantula King's inner core, but what grudge could this lesser one hold? Yet every time it saw me, all eight eyes glowed red with hostility.

"Kakak, kak, gakak."

Unlike yesterday, it didn't charge first. Guess my beating hurt. I dismounted Dotbakyi, who refused to enter anyway—I hadn't planned to make her.

Click.

I unlatched the gate and strode in boldly, scattering feed before me.

'Come eat.'

This was my taming method. Start with food: submit, and eat. They'd seen others do it through the bars and knew the deal. The Crimson Tarantula did too. But it stayed put. Yesterday, it'd ignored the feed to lunge and got thrashed. Now it just hid in the cave. Ready to submit?

Thwip!

A venom stinger flew. I tilted my head aside. I'd borrowed that skill from a porcupine my first day but ditched it. Questionable origin—Pellelian guessed rapid calcium drain, risking osteoporosis. No thanks.

Instead, I was learning another. The spider gave up emerging, firing stingers nonstop. Annoying. I stepped closer.

That's when the webs tangled me. Dangerous. Struggling only tightened them. The vibration reached the cave-dweller.

Would it stinger me while bound and thrashing? Crimson Tarantulas were vicious. Time for hotter measures.

Thududududu—

It burst from the cave with terrifying momentum. Bull-sized tarantula. Glowing red fangs packed neurotoxin rivaling mine. It leaped.

And I'd waited for this.

Flames bloomed around me. Wire-tough webs ignited instantly, spreading to others.

Boom!

The tarantula smashed where I'd been. Dust billowed, embers swirled. I wasn't killing it with this fire alone. I leaped, coiling onto its body, wrapping its slender waist.

"Kwek, kwuk!"

Despite its bulk, the Crimson Tarantula was agile—could thrash wildly with me dangling. It slammed cage walls and rocks, trying to shake me. Given time, it'd succeed. I couldn't choke it out or bite easy—fur, shell, flailing made my head spin.

I tensed fully. Time for the new skill anyway.

Simple skill: secrete poison from scales. Pre-evolution, useless as a weapon—just slimy snake vibes. But as Crystal Double-Horn Python? Now crystalline, sharp scales I could erect.

Kakakagak!

They pierced. Venom glands injected neurotoxin.

"Kwek."

It slowed, then died—legs shriveling.

Whew. Long-overdue level-up. Not power-leveling as hoped here—my level's climbed a lot. Dotbakyi looked up, howling.

"Awooooo!"

Thinks she's a wolf? You're not even canine. But as victory fanfare? Fine. I stroked her head with my tail. She panted, tail wagging.

Time to check status.

Level 10. Without killing Deshunan, it'd be slower. Next evolution? Last was 20, maybe 30 now. Indoor zoo won't cut it—need stronger prey outside.

Skills got cluttered—needs sorting. Fun part: achievements.

Hahaha. Proof the zoo wasn't wasted effort.

—You said you wanted to become a serpent king. Whatever that means.

Pellelian murmured softly.

'Serpent commander.'

—And what's that?

No need to explain a middle-school wuxia novel in detail. Absolute invincible, beyond heroes, armies, even monsters. Or an intangible venomous snake no kingdom could touch despite full force. Short version: didn't want pursuit or threats.

—Every villain dreams of that realm. Near impossible.

Pellelian had dreamed of it too, he said. Just pursued species evolution through research, but the world wouldn't let him.

—Two paths there.

'Which?'

—Overwhelming power. Greatest mage to flip heavens, sword saint cleaving seas, colossal serpent coiling mountains and summoning tsunamis.

—Or form the greatest pack. Kingdom or empire.

'So you tried the first, elder.'

And failed, probably. He nodded.

—Now I think both were needed.

Forming a pack. Taming the zoo was half play, but the leader achievement stuck.

'Anyway, deeper in.'

Crimson Tarantula down—zoo nearly conquered. One cage left, deepest. Lights off. I left Dotbakyi, approached.

Come out!

"Saaak!"

Something lurked. Wouldn't show. Hostile or submit? Either fine. Won't come? I'll go in.

As I reached for the latch—

Thud.

Something emerged from dark. Big. Tarantula-sized? Thud, thud. But bulkier. I erected scales, readied.

Strong monster vibe. Strong ones don't submit easy.

It was a gorilla. Cool one—armored arms. As I offered feed for ultimatum—

"Baeem... snake."

Whoa, startled—feed spilled. Shock: it spoke, unlike others. Huge eyes welled with tears.

"Send... me... home."

Uh, this is home, gorilla.

"Then, your family... do. Repay."

What repayment? Bananas?

"You have hands... hands mean kin."

Transparent Hand—how'd it know? This gorilla was a destructive philanthropist.

"Give love. Accept... as family."

Shocking adoption offer. No thanks.