A viscous, foul-smelling liquid slowly dripped from the moss-covered cracks in the damp, underground cave walls. The rhythmic plop of droplets echoed through the sprawling, dimly lit cavern—one of the many unmapped pockets within the Jura Forest. The musty space was littered with decaying vegetation, rotten eggs, decomposing animal carcasses, and other unidentifiable organic matter. Patches of rancid sludge floated atop murky, stagnant pools, producing a stench so pungent that even the lowliest monsters avoided this place.
Over the years, the air had grown heavy and stale from the lack of circulation, amplifying the fetid miasma until even goblins—normally tolerant of filth—refused to settle here. The threat of being choked to death by sheer stench made this cursed pocket a dead zone within the forest.
Plop!
Suddenly, a shadowy figure crashed through a narrow opening above and landed with a squelch in the excrement-filled mire below. In the dimness, it writhed faintly, then went still after releasing a faint, wet gurgle. Moments later, streamlined blobs—primitive slimes native to these depths—oozed from their hiding spots in the corners, converging in swarms upon the fresh arrival.
With sluggish hops and elastic leaps, they pounced on the fallen figure like piranhas to fresh meat, wriggling and enveloping the body in their translucent forms. One by one, more slimes emerged from the black river to join this frenzied feast—an instinctive, silent celebration.
"So… what's going on with me right now?"
At the far end of the cavern, a lone slime—unlike its kin—remained motionless atop the only dry, relatively clean patch of stone. It pulsed softly, as if absorbing its environment through some sixth sense, rather than acting on primal instinct.
"What… is this thing?"
The slime's gelatinous body suddenly trembled. Despite its amorphous form, ripples of confusion spread outward. Then, without warning, a semi-transparent screen of light—reminiscent of a World Language interface—flickered into existence in its mind.
Name: Nameless Monster (Takuma )
Race: Slime
Unique Skill: Otherworldly Arrival (Red) – Transmigrated from another world, granting limitless evolution potential.
Ultimate Skill: Gluttony (Purple) – A degraded but potent version of Rimuru Tempest's Predator, this skill allows you to devour organic and inorganic matter, absorb nutrients, mimic properties, and store them in a separate stomach dimension.
Racial Trait: Slime Physique (White) – Possess a fluid body immune to most physical attacks, capable of reforming from blunt trauma, requires no sleep or oxygen, and capable of dividing or reproducing asexually under certain conditions.
"So not only did I die, but I got reincarnated as a monster… and not even a cool one! A slime!?"
Takuma , or rather, the slime that once bore that name, stared dumbfounded at the floating status window. His squishy body trembled with disbelief as several small bubbles popped across his translucent form.
In his final memory, he had been walking down the street, face glued to his phone, when a sudden yell broke his focus. He looked up—just in time to see a delivery truck barreling straight toward him. Then, darkness. Pain. Blood. Screams. And finally, nothingness.
"Goddamn Truck-kun… You really don't miss."
Piecing together the situation with his anime-scarred mind, Takuma quickly recognized the familiar narrative: he'd become yet another victim of the classic isekai setup. Truck accident, sudden death, inexplicable rebirth—check, check, and check. And now, he found himself in a fantasy world as a bottom-tier monster with a status window and game-like interface.
That panel? Not some RPG system, but the manifestation of his awakened Unique Skill. [Otherworldly Arrival] wasn't a regular ability—it was a top-tier Red-ranked talent. Gluttony, meanwhile, was a rare Purple skill that likely mirrored a degraded form of Predator, famously wielded by Rimuru Tempest, the legendary slime protagonist of this world. And Slime Physique? A basic racial trait, akin to what all slimes naturally possessed.
Talents in this world were ranked Red, Orange, Purple, Blue, and White—from highest to lowest rarity. Unlike skills, talents governed growth potential rather than direct combat power. Takuma , despite being a newborn slime, possessed incredible long-term potential—but for now, he was still a weak, squishy blob.
As for the panel's appearance? It was just how his consciousness chose to visualize his skill info—if he wanted, he could morph it into anything. A mechanical HUD, a scroll, even an anime-style loli assistant. But now wasn't the time.
"Wait a sec… If I'm here, what happened to my body back home? My phone! My PC! My internet history! My hard drive—! Oh crap!!"
In that moment, the entire cave briefly echoed with the wet, squelching panic of a slime wildly bouncing in place. Other newborn slimes paused, "looking" toward Takuma , though none had eyes. Their limited intelligence couldn't grasp his bizarre behavior; they merely reacted to the vibrations in the air.
Once they realized there was no threat, they resumed their instinctive crawl toward the nutrient-rich filth river.
"Sigh… Whatever. The old me's dead. That world's gone. Even if I return one day, I'll be someone else. A slime has no shame!"
Having reassured himself with this flimsy logic, Takuma finally calmed down. It wasn't like anyone would ever find the "classified" contents of his hard drive anyway… right?
"But still… What kind of world did I end up in? If slimes exist here… are there goblins? Ogres? Lizardmen? Elves? Beastkin? Succubi?!"
His round body wobbled dangerously. A storm of unspeakable images flooded his imagination like a corrupted anime opening.
Yes, he had become a slime… but not just any slime.
He was the kind with ambition.