The Sweet-Toothed Hunters

The ecological niche of the Gamchi was almost identical to that of birds or bats. Of course, birds and bats already shared similar niches as flying creatures to begin with.

When you considered how wildly successful birds and bats were as species, the potential of these creatures was truly exceptional. In this world alone, there appeared to be at least twenty-two distinct families of Gamchi.

Twenty-two entire families, each completely independent in terms of diet, size, behavior, intelligence, and morphology. There was still room for further differentiation at the genus and species levels.

Since they belonged to entirely different families, they didn’t even feel like creatures sharing similar ecologies despite their superficial resemblance.

That was only natural. Different families meant they were as distinct as dogs, bears, and weasels. (All three belong to the order Carnivora but are classified in separate families.)

I still didn’t know why my previous opponent had allowed these things to flourish so wildly. Maybe a few of the creatures they created during the ecological competition had simply overwhelmed everything else. Or perhaps instead of evolving new species through competition, they had simply created Gamchi to fill those ecological niches directly.

Right now, only the species that ate puddings, the grains the puddings couldn’t finish, or the fruits of trees remained. The other ten or so species looked like they would go extinct. I decided to save them too.

Membrane Bird? Was that the name the previous player gave them? Not much different from bat-birds.

Anyway, I mobilized a massive amount of divinity and evolved every individual of every species simultaneously.

Some gained the ability to eat not only fruit but waterweed jelly as well. Others were modified to hunt and consume puddings, jellies, and the rest of the Dessert Legion. I also made them capable of eating cacti. Come to think ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of it, it was about time to begin turning the cacti and camels into proper members of the Dessert Legion too.

These organisms already had such high completion rates that evolving them would require an enormous investment of divinity, but it would be worth it.

While I had been busy looking after Sesaisa’s ecosystem, I hadn’t had time to properly modify my own. Now I poured divinity into every creature without reservation, turning them all into members of the Dessert Legion.

But the most important ones were the Gamchi. And for the sake of ecological diversity, the species that directly hunted jellies were far more crucial than those that ate plants, scavenged corpses, or plucked grain.

Let’s return to the jelly ecosystem. The necessities for jellies were as follows:

Nectar.

Water.

Rocks.

Sunlight.

Four elements. How much of each was required varied by species. As I mentioned earlier, some were mobile while others had become slow, hardened, and practically rooted like plants.

These jelly trees that synthesized nectar were called jellies, but their outer surface was covered in insanely hard mineral material. Their internal shells were also mineral-like, allowing them to absorb every inorganic and organic substance from the soil. They had evolved lens-like leaves that sucked in sunlight from high places. In other words, they were jellies that had taken over the ecological niche of ‘plants.’

However, their ‘leaves’ were pure jelly. That was obvious. If they had been covered in glass or mineral shells, they wouldn’t have been able to absorb heat and light properly.

That was fine. After all, very few pudding species climbed the jelly trees. Most simply rolled across the ground or dove into water. Therefore, the strategy of ‘gaining height’ had been the most successful among the jelly trees’ adaptations.

But that was when the flying predators appeared.

They simply flew high, perched on branches, and began mercilessly devouring the jellies that had conveniently spread themselves out on the tall trees. The slow, ground-crawling jellies were equally helpless against Gamchi with long, sturdy beaks that could crack their shells. The puddings were in trouble too. Their rolling and running movement offered no defense against Gamchi that dove from above to peck at them.

The creatures of the Dessert Legion were thrown into utter confusion. (That’s the best way to put it.) They needed new survival strategies.

I continued to exert my divinity, fine-tuning their ecosystem.

The first strategy was counterattack. The jelly trees began producing thorns and toxins.

But Gamchi that adapted to ignore the thorns, digest the poison, or even pierce the magical counterattacks of the jellies with raw physical specs naturally appeared.

The second strategy was increasing body size. If they grew larger and taller, that would do it. In response, the Gamchi also grew larger.

The third strategy was increasing durability. They complicated the structure of their shells and coated themselves in hard layers even if it lowered the efficiency of their nectar synthesis. But of course, even stronger Gamchi appeared.

I kept accelerating time and sowing the seeds of various strategies with divinity, repeatedly cultivating them so they could consciously develop.

If the Gamchi had one flaw, it was that their growth cycle was measured in years.

In contrast, the longest-lived jellies only lived for five years.

In the current system where eating a lot, growing quickly, and reproducing rapidly was advantageous, shorter lifespans had been traded for explosive evolutionary speed and reproductive power.

As a result, I only needed to adjust the evolution speed of the Gamchi. The twenty-two families of Gamchi remained twenty-two families, but the number of species had exploded to five hundred and sixty.

“Wow. You really are incredible in this field.”

At this point, the Gamchi would be able to hunt and grow on their own even if I left them alone. But there was something more important.

“What is it?”

Hand over the traits.

“Level 8. Level 8?! How on earth does a world that has only experienced four collisions have a stat over eighteen thousand?! Other people are struggling to even break one thousand right now!”

It was because predators had appeared.

After playing this game, I realized that ecosystems with tons of predators actually had higher life scores than those without any.

Probably because the diversity and stability of an ecosystem increased with the number of interacting individuals.

The angel showed me the Excellent trait cards.

“Evolution Acceleration. Designate all ‘Gamchi’ species.”

The evolution of the Gamchi became even faster. They now faced trees, jellies, puddings, giant jellies, small fast jellies—every possible opponent.

Meanwhile, some cheeky ones appeared. Creatures that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠went straight to the Nectar Well to drink the nectar itself. Honestly, that was only natural. It made more sense to consume pure life energy than to hunt randomly.

But that place was hell.

Abhojuth turned its tentacles toward the sky, making them sticky, and caught the swarming Gamchi en masse. It digested them alive like living flypaper.

From the perspective of managing the Nectar Well, Nectar Jellies, and Coral Gummies, Abhojuth could not possibly allow nectar-sucking Gamchi to gather. Even Yogur-tosoth found it difficult to drink from there, so it was only natural.

The Gamchi began avoiding Abhojuth’s dull senses, secretly sipping nectar, hunting the Nectar Jellies on the surface, or diving to catch the jellyfish inside. Some even evolved into fully aquatic forms. They looked like penguins. I accelerated that line of development as well.

“But if the Gamchi get this strong, won’t that be a problem?”

“Not at all. Because the desserts are evolving right alongside them.”

The evolution of the Man-Catching Candies I had pushed to the extreme was especially dramatic.

To hunt flying, fast, and light Gamchi, they developed greater stability for multiple leaps, became longer and more agile, and compressed their thorns and horns into a single structure.

The original Camel-Eating Candies and Man-Catching Candies I had created were quickly weeded out by extreme ecological pressures. Instead, more stable and varied candies appeared to fill those niches.

There were still some that devoted their entire lives to perfecting one final suicidal charge against the plentiful camels, but the mainstream had shifted. Most had become highly specialized predators that hunted agile Gamchi-like creatures. They leapt high, ran fast, tired quickly, and had become thorough carnivores that devoured even bone fragments.

Incidentally, these candies had no ‘eyes.’ Instead, they relied on highly developed tactile senses, vibration detection, and smell. They would roughly leap toward flying Gamchi, spread their bodies wide right before impact, grab their prey, and tear them apart. Still, it looked like they would develop eyes soon.

As this process repeated, clear changes appeared across the entire ecosystem.

In short, some of the Gamchi had become migratory birds. They raised their young near ‘safe’ freshwater lakes and obtained their food by hunting jellies around the Nectar Oasis.

The closer camels or Gamchi approached the Nectar Well, the more insanely powerful life forms emerged due to its production capacity. As a result, the Nectar Well had become the most dangerous and powerful region in the world. The Teimong River (which I had rerouted so it no longer connected directly to the well but circled the world in a winding path before entering the freshwater lake) served as a moderately dangerous middle ground where a small amount of nectar still flowed in.

On the other side of the river, in the safe freshwater lake zone, migratory birds, wetland reptiles, frogs, and fish that had fled after losing the competition at the Nectar Well flourished. The river that overflowed, the water Yogur-tosoth sucked in and spat out, and other sources constantly brought nutrients, enriching the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠entire world.

The cactus forest could only be described as ‘lush.’ It was supposed to be the camels’ territory, yet only monstrous plants that devoured the cacti (which had taken the position of ‘trees’), frantically consumed the flowers and grasses that grew wildly after every rainfall, and fled from the insane Camel-Catching Candies remained—along with the camels themselves.

The camels had also grown into monsters and undergone speciation. Their body sizes had become enormous, and instead of mismatched shells, their skin was now covered in mineral bristles.

They too wanted to approach the Nectar Well and drink the nectar, but doing so meant being torn apart by the Camel-Eating Candies that lived exclusively between the Teimong River and the well.

Yet they could not suppress their desire for nectar at all. Not because it was addictive, but because it was simply too perfect an energy source. Therefore, the camels grew larger, became faster, or began developing carapaces.

And finally, they appeared.

Not the giant jellies of the Nectar Oasis, but creatures that had grown specifically to tear apart Abhojuth’s tentacles and drink the fluids within.

The strongest Gamchi capable of seizing pure life matter—nectar—through physical power alone. Their entire bodies were covered in scale-like armor that clung to their membranes like lamellar plates. Their wingspans reached a full fifteen meters, their body length approached four meters, and they possessed powerful clawed legs and serrated beaks.

They could devour cows whole. Even Yogur-tosoth would need to use magic to deal with them. They were the strongest and most vicious predators in my ecosystem.

Even the mighty guardian of the lake called Abhojuth was beaten by them. They sliced off its tentacles, drank the spurting blood and nectar, and greedily consumed the nectar that flowed from the well along with the jellies. These nectar-sucking Gamchi deserved an entirely new name.

“The etymology is a bit hard to figure out.”

“Only the people who need to know will get it. That’s enough.”

I wanted to refine these powerful flying biscuits a bit more, but I had already spent too much time.

Even though I could accelerate time with divinity during the protection period, most players had probably entered the ‘Dimensional Rift’ phase by now. The community would be active.

Life: 29,131

Hmm. Looks like I won’t quite reach thirty thousand.

“You really have no conscience.”

The Military stat had also reached nearly twelve thousand, allowing me to pick another trait. I chose Aerial Combat.

Now then. Where should I post my promotional thread?

Ecosystem consulting business. Let’s see how well it does.

While writing the promotional post, a thought suddenly occurred to me.

“Can I post anonymous recommendations or something?”

“No. And why are you already thinking about fake reviews? If you promote it properly, it should blow up on its own.”

“Listen carefully. I came here to succeed. I will do anything to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠raise my success rate even by one percent. Rather than thinking ‘Ah, shit, I should’ve done fake reviews’ after I lose, it’s better to maximize exposure even if there’s a risk of getting caught.”

“Your conscience really is completely dead…”

The path of the Demon King truly was ugly and difficult.

“Anyway, anonymous posting isn’t possible. The community is completely public. Compete fairly.”

Fairly. Whether I get caught doing fake reviews and get flamed, or whether I succeed at fake reviews without getting caught. That was the fair competition.

“I’m starting to agree with the proposition that humans are trash. Anyway, comments have already appeared on the post you uploaded. Would you like to see them?”

Let’s take a look.

High praise. The signs are good.