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Chapter 5: Why Is It Always Me?

  ‘Shit… me and my god-damned mouth!’

  The curse was pure, reflexive despair. Hundreds of pale, shuffling caps, all turning toward her light.

  << Clarification: You do not possess a mouth or an oral cavity to vocalize from. A more accurate statement would be: ‘Shit… me and my god-damned thought.’ >>

  ‘You bastard!! This is not the time!’ Jessica’s mental scream was a frayed wire, sparking with panic. Her thoughts tumbled over each other, a frantic avalanche. ‘What do I do? What should I do? Run? Fight? Hide? Oh flaming hell!! Why? Why the hell have I been having bad luck lately?’

  << You're the progenitor of bad luck, that's why... And why are you just standing? >>

  ‘AAAGH!! FLAMING HELL!!’

  The system’s words was the final push. Her locust legs coiled and she leaped! out of the left-hand tunnel in a frantic, flaming arc. Boing!!-Leap! She didn’t run; she fled, a desperate, six-legged scramble combined with a frantic, buzzing flutter of her wings. Her [Spark Instinct] was a constant, painful siren in her mind, the shuffling, tick-tick-ticking horde was closing the distance.

  ‘Wait… don’t tell me they can run too?’ A hysterical image flashed in her mind: a hundred mushrooms wearing tiny ninja headbands, sprinting in formation. She violently shook the absurdity away. 'Focus!'

  She crossed the junction, veering hard into the right-hand tunnel without a backward glance. Going back toward the wolf cavern was suicide, their [Primal Instinct] would sniff her out in a heartbeat. Even if she somehow lured the mushrooms into a clash with the wolves, half the fungal army would still be on her, and she’d be back to starving, hiding, and dying. Every escape route was a dead end. All she could do was run, a tiny firefly trying to outpace a rolling wave of living landmines.

  ‘Someone… please, kill me now.’

  The plea was sincere, born of utter exhaustion. But the universe, it seemed, preferred a more drawn-out, explosive end.

  Just then, the air in front of her warped. A Mushrooper materialized not on the ground, but in the air directly in her path, having used its [Burst Speed] to intercept. Its pale cap was already swollen taut, a grotesque balloon primed to burst. There was no space to dodge, no time to veer. ‘SHIT!’

  BOOOM!

  The explosion wasn’t huge, but at point-blank range, it was devastating. The concussive force hit her like a physical slap. A cloud of hot spores and fungal shrapnel engulfed her. She was thrown sideways, her fiery aura flickering violently as she tumbled end-over-end across the rough stone.

  << SPECIES POSSESSED: CAVE LOCUST [HP/92%] (-15) --> [HP/77%] >>

  ‘OH, FLAMING HELL, NOOOO!!! NOT THIS TYPE OF DEATH!!’ The despair was immediate, but it wasn’t for her life, not yet. It was for the precious, hard-won resource she’d just lost. ‘My health! My beautiful, full hard-earned health! You walking spore-bags!!’

  Anger, white-hot and clarifying, burned through the panic. She scrambled back to her feet, her locust legs scraping against stone. She didn’t look back. She just ran, pouring every ounce of her will into a frantic, zig-zagging dash down the pitch-black right-hand tunnel, praying that this passage didn’t have its own welcoming committee.

  Tss… Zztss!…

  The sound was a death-rattle hiss, right beside her ear. Her instinct flared. Another one. To her left, a Mushrooper had matched her speed, its body already inflating, seconds from turning her into chitin confetti.

  ‘Not this time, you walking time-bomb bastard!’

  She didn’t stop running. As she careened forward, her head swiveled, and she spat. Not one, but three quick, successive globes of [Flame Acid Ball] shot from her throat. They sizzled through the damp air and struck the swelling fungus in a rapid SPLAT-SPLAT-SPLAT!

  The acidic fire didn’t just hit it; it dissolved it. The Mushrooper’s expansion stuttered, then reversed in a sizzling, melting implosion. It vanished into a puff of acrid steam and ash before it could detonate.

  A bright, beautiful notification blinked in her peripheral vision.

  << You have slain an Infant Rank Mushrooper. Exp +10% >>

  ‘Hehehe…’ A giddy, triumphant giggle bubbled up. ‘So you can die before you blow! Good to know!’ But the triumph was short-lived. The expenditure of focus, the risk of stopping even for a millisecond… ‘Not worth it. A measly 10% EXP isn’t worth my life. Just run. Just keep running!’

  She pushed harder, her flaming form a streaking comet in the absolute dark. Behind her, a staccato rhythm of tiny booms!! erupted as pursuing Mushroopers, unable to match her frantic pace, reached their limits and detonated harmlessly in her wake. She started to find a terrible rhythm, the frantic leap, the instinctual dodge, the focused study of the tunnel ahead for any dip, any turn, anything that could be used to her advantage.

  She was learning. She was adapting. She was surviving.

  And then the cave itself decided to join the fight.

  A deep, groaning tremor shook the world. It wasn’t the sound of an explosion. It was the sound of the mountain complaining. The overlapping, percussive booms!! of the mushroom detonations were no longer just hitting air, they were hammering the ancient, fragile stone of the tunnel.

  DU! DU! DU!

  The tremors intensified. A rain of grit and pebbles became a cascade of fist-sized rocks. A jagged crack splintered the ceiling above her with a sound like breaking bone.

  ‘WHAT THE FLAMES?!’

  Her [Spark Instinct] screamed a new, different warning. She didn’t look up; she threw herself forward in a desperate, flat dive.

  CRASH!

  A massive slab of rock, dislodged by the tremors, slammed into the ground exactly where she had been a heartbeat before. The impact shook her entire body, and the resulting dust cloud choked the air, dimming her fiery light to a feeble glow.

  She was no longer just being chased by monsters.

  The very cave was collapsing around her.

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

  The world behind her continued to be a symphony of miniature apocalypses. Each detonation from the pursuing Mushroopers was a percussive hammer-blow to the trembling tunnel, shaking loose more dust and debris. The concussive waves, even at a distance, buffeted her like physical slaps.

  << SPECIES POSSESSED: CAVE LOCUST [HP/77%] (-5) --> [HP/72%] >>

  << SPECIES POSSESSED: CAVE LOCUST [HP/72%] (-3) --> [HP/69%] >>

  << SPECIES POSSESSED: CAVE LOCUST [HP/69%] (-4) --> [HP/65%] >>

  The notifications scrolled in the corner of her vision, a relentless, numeric countdown to zero, causing her to subconsciously shriek.

  ‘Whyyy!!! Why meee!!’ Her internal voice was a sob of pure, theatrical injustice. ‘I’m too young to die! I haven’t even lived!’

  << You've already died once. A second time wouldn't be that bad ^^ >>

  The emoticon was the final insult.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  ‘AAAGH!! FLAMING HELL!! That’s exactly the point, you bastard!’ She shot back, her fear transforming into indignant fury. ‘I’m too young to die in this second life! I’m just four days old! I haven’t possessed a dragon, or a princess, or even a slightly larger bug! I haven’t seen the sun! Or grass! Or a decent meal that isn’t burnt wolf carcass! Oh, brotherrrr… I haven't even gotten my first kiss. There’s a whole world out there! I can’t die now! I’m too young, too beautiful, too tragically unfinished!’

  Even as the litany of complaints poured out, a strange dichotomy took hold. The part of her that was screaming was separate from the part that was acting. The fear was real, the desperation was genuine, but it was fuel, not paralysis.

  She didn’t freeze. She calculated.

  Her body became a machine of evasion. A frantic leap to the left avoided a crashing rock. A sudden, skidding reverse dodged a Mushrooper that burst from a fissure. A tight corkscrew roll minimized the blast radius of another detonation, taking only a glancing blow. She was a pinball of fire and chitin, banking off walls, using falling stones as momentary platforms, her mind a hyper-focused map of trajectories and threats. Every point of HP lost was a tactical sacrifice, paid to keep the main force, her consciousness, alive.

  The explosions grew more distant. The tremors began to feel different, less like impacts and more like… a sinking sensation. The falling rocks weren’t just falling beside her; they were falling with her.

  If she’d had a face in that moment, it wouldn’t have been twisted in terror. It would have been stretched in a wide, manic, utterly exhilarated grin. This was it. The ultimate high-stakes run. The no-margin-for-error raid boss. For the pro-gamer spirit still clinging to her core, the more impossible the odds, the more electric the thrill. The reward wasn’t loot or XP right now. The reward was the next second of breath. The next beat of existence. It was the most valuable currency of all.

  She was so deeply immersed in the dance of survival, in the fluid geometry of escape, that she almost missed the system’s dry interjection.

  << …Err. Are you aware that your current trajectory is no longer horizontal? You are, in fact, descending at an accelerated rate. >>

  ‘Huh?’

  The immersion shattered. She stopped ‘Leap-Boing!!’. Her legs churned in empty air. The explosions were distant, because she was far below them. The rocks weren’t just falling around her; she was falling with them, down a vast, newly opened shaft in the collapsing tunnel.

  ‘NOOO! HELP!!!!’ The scream was pure, unvarnished instinct.

  The system’s reply was its usual brand of bleak comfort.

  << You are currently the sole entity in your immediate vicinity capable of processing this nonsense. Shouting is an inefficient use of energy. >>

  The truth of it landed harder than the falling sensation. ‘Oh… right. I am.’ The frantic energy bled away, replaced by a sudden, hollow quiet. There was no one to hear her. No Mark, no Elsa, no playful wolf pup. Just the rushing air and the bastard's text in the dark.

  A profound loneliness, colder than the cave air, settled over her. ‘Sigh… It was fun meeting you, you know. At least I wasn’t completely alone through all this.’ The thought was sincere, a final, sentimental message in a bottle tossed into the void.

  The system’s response was immediate, and carried a palpable, digital shudder.

  << *Shudders* Dummy, you are not dying, you're just falling, and it wasn't fun meeting you. Sigh.... I'm going to have an headache at this rate. This is all your fault for the record. >>

  ‘But you don’t have a br—’ Jessica began, then cut herself off with an internal flinch. She remembered the torrent of furious data that followed that particular accusation last time. She did not want a repeat performance while plummeting to her doom.

  << …What were you intending to say? >> The query was dangerously calm.

  ‘N-no! Nothing!’ She yelped. ‘Just wanted to say… but you don’t have a way of telling if I’ll survive the fall? Because it really, really feels like I’m about to become a very flat stain.’

  There was a pause. Not a dramatic one. A slightly confused one.

  << …You have already concluded your descent. The impact was mitigated and you're are currently submerged. Your flames are extinguished due to hydration. That is why you perceive darkness and lack mobility. You are not deceased(Yet). You are merely… damp. >>

  ‘Oh.’

  The single syllable was a flatline of understanding, even as she consciously ignored the (Yet). At least she wasn’t splattered. She was… soggy.

  Experimentally, she tried to command her locust legs to move. A weak, uncoordinated thrashing answered her, followed by a light splash. She was in water. Deep, cold, utterly dark water.

  ‘But… won’t I die? I mean, I’m flameless. That’s like… my whole thing.’

  << That outcome would be probable if you remained in your base form. You are currently utilizing a possessed biological host. The primary risk is not extinguishment, but gradual system failure of the host due to immersion. It will consume vitality [HP]. >>

  << SPECIES POSSESSED: CAVE LOCUST [HP/49%] >>

  The number was a ticking clock. ‘Alright… so the plan is: get this flaming bug out of the water.’

  With a monumental effort of will, she forced the waterlogged locust body into action. It was a pathetic, stumbling process. Leap!! became a weak forward lurch that churned the water. Swim… was a frantic, uncoordinated paddling of six legs. Leap-!! was another desperate heave. It felt like an eternity, a slow-motion battle against buoyancy and her own draining strength.

  Finally, her scrambling limbs scraped against something solid. Not rock, but something yielding, yet firm. 'Land!' With one last, exhausted surge, she hauled herself out of the clinging water.

  For a moment, there was only the sound of dripping and her own silent, heaving relief. Then, a familiar sensation kindled deep within the core of the locust. A spark of heat, defiant against the chill. A faint sizzle... as water evaporated from her carapace. The spark became a flicker, then a steady glow.

  Vroom!!

  Flames erupted once more, not as a wild inferno, but as a warm, steady aura that clung to her form, casting a flickering circle of light on her surroundings. The joy was instant, overwhelming.

  ‘I’m ALIVE!!!’ The mental laugh was pure, giddy triumph.

  The laughter died as quickly as it had come. The light from her own body revealed her new perch. It wasn’t land. It was a thin, sodden plank of rotten wood, floating in what appeared to be a vast, underground lake or swamp. The wood beneath her was already blackening, smoking under the heat of her flame.

  ‘I’m absolutely lost. And… oh, flaming HELL!’ The second realization hit. ‘I’m standing on tinder! This thing is going to burn out from under me!’

  As if in answer to her despair, a new light caught her wide-angle vision. Not her own. A steady, distant glow from somewhere across the dark water. A fixed point in the void.

  ‘A light! A way out!’ Hope, foolish and bright, flared. She prepared to leap for joy.

  Her [Spark Instinct] didn’t spark. It detonated.

  She didn’t think; she threw herself upward in a frantic, flaming burst, her wings buzzing wildly.

  CHOMP!

  The sound from directly below was horrific, a wet, powerful snap of immense jaws closing on empty water and air right where she had been perched. The plank of wood vanished in the turbulence.

  Hovering shakily in the air, Jessica looked down. The dark water swirled. A status screen materialized, its numbers burning into her mind with cold, terrible clarity.

  [STATUS]

  +

  Level: 9 [Infant Rank]

  Specie: Dark Swamptile

  Magic Cores: [1/1]

  Innate Abilities: [One With Darkness] [Iron Skin]

  Abilities: Unique Skill [Chomp Of Darkness] [Swamp Rule]

  +

  'Level 9.' The number was a death sentence. ‘The HELL!! I almost just became a breath mint for that thing?!’ The fear was so deep it wrapped back around to numb disbelief. ‘Gosh… my life. What did I do to deserve this? Kick a universe of puppies?’

  She didn’t wait. She turned and flew, a desperate, wobbly line of fire, toward the distant, steady light. It was the only option left.

  After an eternity of anxious flight, the light resolved into its source: an opening in the cavern wall, leading not to freedom, but into a constructed space. The environment shifted from raw cave to something… designed. The floor became fitted, ashen-grey bricks. The walls were smooth, lined at regular intervals with iron sconces holding steady, ordinary flames that didn't flicker in a draft, but they seemed to bend slightly, as if leaning away from something, maybe from the shadows. It was a passageway. It looked like something out of a rogue-like dungeon game from her past life.

  A deep, ingrained wariness settled over her. ‘This feels like a hallway leading straight to a boss room. A boss room that ends with “Game Over” for me.’

  She hovered at the entrance, torn. Go back to the dark water and the Level 9 nightmare? Or forward into the ominous, lit unknown?

  The decision was made for her. A prickling sensation crawled over her carapace. She felt it then, not a single gaze, but a multitude. Dozens of unseen eyes, from cracks in the brick, from the shadows behind the flickering torches, fixing on her. The pressure of their attention was a physical weight, a silent, unanimous verdict: Move. Or be removed.

  ‘Great! Just more on my plate, right!?’ She grumbled inwardly, but the defiance was hollow. With no other choice, she moved, skittering quickly down the torch-lit passage. ‘At least this place has light. And floors. Small mercies.’

  The passage felt endless. ‘I can’t wait to be out of this damn cave. Being this powerless… it’s infuriating.’

  The passage finally opened. It didn’t lead outside. It opened into a room.

  A vast, circular chamber, impossibly large after the confines of the tunnels. It was dim, lit by a few guttering torches in distant sconces, their light struggling to reach the center. The air was still and ancient, smelling of cold stone and something else, ozone, and a deep, earthy musk.

  Jessica hovered at the entrance, her tiny flame illuminating only a few feet ahead. Her senses reached out, trying to parse the darkness at the room’s heart. What was in here? A treasure? An altar? A lucky spin?

  She focused, and the system tried to generate a status.

  What appeared was not information. It was corruption.

  [STATUS]

  +

  Level: ??? [???]

  Specie: ???

  ???: [???]

  ???: ???

  ???: ???

  ????

  ????

  +

  Garbled text, broken symbols, strings of question marks that seemed to bleed static. Then, a final, shattered line:

  << Ru?? R?n!! ?? >>

  A jolt of pure, instinctual terror, deeper than fear of wolves or mushrooms or even the swamp creature, lanced through her. Every fiber of her being screamed to flee. She involuntarily jerked backward, her flight stuttering.

  But before she could turn, the room itself moved.

  Not the floor. The darkness at the center shifted, heaved. A tremor ran through the very stone, a deep bass note felt in the bones she didn’t have.

  Then, a voice. Not from the air. It seemed to vibrate up from the floor, through the walls, resonating in the chamber itself. It was deep, dry, and held a weight of ages.

  “Kukuku… It seems I have a guest.”

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