Ryan was still marveling at the fact he'd basically inhaled some glowing moss spores. When a sound cut through the eerie quiet of the Shifting Wilds.
It was a scream.
A very human, very terrified scream. It was sharp and then abruptly cut off, followed by a series of high-pitched, yelping snarls.
The sound came from somewhere deeper in the misty jungle, not too far from where he guessed Boulder's trail had led.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Ryan muttered, his brief moment of SSS-Tier triumph vanishing like ice cream on a hot sidewalk.
"Someone else already found trouble? This place is not messing around."
His first instinct, the sensible part of his brain that had successfully navigated him through life without being eaten so far, screamed, "Run Away! Go Back to the Nice, Clean Dome! Hide in Your Pod!"
But then another thought, a newer, more curious and slightly reckless thought, whispered, "But what if there's something to extract? From the screamer? Or from whatever did the screaming-to?"
His "Ultimate Infinite Extraction System" was hungry for new experiences, it seemed. And maybe, just maybe, he could actually help. Or at least see what he was up against.
He hesitated for only a moment. The yelping snarls were still echoing, mixed with frantic rustling sounds. If he was going to investigate, he needed to do it now.
"Alright, sensible brain, you can panic later," he told himself, gripping his cheap Utility Knife a little tighter.
The temporary +1 Strength from Boulder's boot residue was still active, making his grip feel a tiny bit more confident. He hoped it would be enough if he needed to, say, open a very aggressive, toothy pickle jar.
He moved towards the sounds, trying to be as quiet as a ninja with a head cold not very quiet, but he was trying his best.
The undergrowth was thick, and strange, spiky vines kept trying to grab his ankles like overly affectionate house cats made of thorns.
He pushed through a curtain of hanging moss [he resisted the urge to try and extract from it right then] and found himself on the edge of a small, muddy clearing.
The scene was not pretty.
A young man, probably not much older than Ryan himself, lay sprawled on the ground.
His starting clothes were torn, and he wasn't moving. Around him, three small, creature-things were sniffing and nudging at his body.
These, Ryan guessed, were the "Unstable Fauna" the God Warden had mentioned. They were about the size of small dogs, but they looked like a badger had a very unfortunate argument with a porcupine and a bundle of rusty springs.
Their bodies were low-slung and covered in dark, matted fur from which sprouted dozens of long, sharp-looking quills.
They had beady, red eyes and snouts full of needle-like teeth, which were currently making unpleasant sounds as they investigated the fallen novice.
Ryan's god Interface flickered, helpfully providing a label for the creatures: SPINE WHELP [ UNSTABLE FAUNA, LEVEL 1 ].
"Spine Whelps," Ryan breathed. "Catchy name. Definitely highlights their main feature."
One of the Spine Whelps looked up, its red eyes fixing on Ryan. It let out a short, sharp yelp, and the other two immediately turned their attention towards him.
They lowered their heads, and the quills on their backs bristled ominously.
So much for a quiet investigation.
There was no time to think, no time to weigh options or try to remember any fancy combat moves from movies.
Three quill-covered, dog-sized anger-bundles were about to charge him.
Ryan did the only thing he could: he yelled, a surprisingly loud and unheroic "Aaah!" and charged back, waving his little Utility Knife like he was trying to conduct a very angry, very small orchestra.
The closest Spine Whelp darted forward, incredibly fast. It didn't try to bite. Instead, it sort of twitched its body, and a volley of three quills shot out from its flank, whistling through the air straight at Ryan's chest.
"Nope!" Ryan yelped, instinctively twisting his body. He wasn't an acrobat, but the +1 Agility he was born with [according to his status screen] must have kicked in, because two of the quills zipped past his ear, close enough for him to feel the air move.
The third one, however, wasn't so lucky for his arm. It hit his left bicep with a sharp thwack and stuck there, sending a jolt of stinging pain up his arm.
"Ow! Son of a porcupine-dog!" he hissed, stumbling back a step.
The other two Spine Whelps were closing in, one from the left, one from the right, clearly trying to flank him.
This was not going well. His grand plan of "charge and wave knife" seemed to have some serious flaws.
He dodged another quill volley from the second Whelp, this one aimed at his legs. He felt like he was in a very unfair game of dodgeball where the balls were pointy and actively hated him.
The Whelp that had shot him in the arm was now lunging, jaws snapping. Ryan, fueled by a mix of panic and annoyance at being shot, swung his knife wildly.
He didn't expect to hit anything. He was just trying to create some space. But, to his utter surprise, the blade connected.
There was a wet, tearing sound, and the Spine Whelp let out a pained yelp, tumbling sideways. It thrashed for a moment, then lay still.
Ryan stared, wide-eyed. He'd actually done it. He'd killed one.
His arm throbbed where the quill was embedded, but a strange new feeling was washing over him too.
Not excitement, exactly. More like surprised competence.
His god Interface chimed, and a message flashed up:
Enemy Defeated: Spine Whelp [ Level 1 ]
+20 god Points Np Acquired!
Assimilation Level Progress: 20/100 [ Towards Level 1 ]
"God Points? Assimilation Level?" Ryan panted, keeping his eyes on the two remaining Spine Whelps, who now looked a little less confident, a little more wary.
So, killing things gave him points and helped him level up. That was disturbingly straightforward. Like a video game, but with real pain and a much higher chance of needing new pants.
The two Whelps snarled, but they didn't charge immediately.
They seemed to be reassessing this clumsy, yelling human who had somehow managed to take down their packmate with a cheap knife.
Ryan used the brief pause to glance at his arm. The quill was still stuck there.
He gritted his teeth and, with a quick, sharp tug, pulled it out. It hurt. A lot. Little drops of blood welled up.
The "minor regeneration" from his pod functions probably wouldn't fix this quickly.
He looked at the dead Spine Whelp. Now was the moment of truth for his SSS-Tier power. If he could extract something useful, maybe this whole "fighting for his life" thing would be slightly more rewarding.
He quickly focused on the corpse, his mind reaching out with that now-familiar pulling sensation.
The remaining two Whelps were watching him, circling slowly, but they didn't attack yet. They seemed confused by what he was doing. Maybe they thought he was offering last rites.
Target: Spine Whelp Corpse [ Level 1 ]
Initiating Extraction Protocol
Multiple Essences Detected. Select Extraction Focus or Attempt General Assimilation?
Ryan mentally jabbed at "General Assimilation." He didn't have time to be picky.
The pulling sensation intensified. He felt a faint warmth flow from the dead creature into him. It wasn't gross, like he was absorbing actual Whelp-bits. It was more like information. And a tiny spark of energy.
Extraction Complete!
Acquired:
Agility Essence [ Spine Whelp Variant ]: +1 Permanent Agility!
Quill Toxin [ Minor, Sample ]: You have assimilated the basic properties of the Spine Whelp's natural quill venom.
Further analysis required for synthesis or resistance.
System Note: Not bad for your first go at a critter! That Agility boost is forever! The toxin is just a taster sample for now. Don't go drinking it.
Ryan's eyes widened. "+1 Permanent Agility!" He felt a subtle shift within himself, a lightness, a feeling that his limbs were just a tiny bit more responsive, more coordinated.
It wasn't a huge change, but it was permanent. He could feel it. He felt quicker.
The two remaining Spine Whelps chose that moment to attack, perhaps sensing that their enemy was momentarily distracted by his internal celebration of becoming slightly less clumsy.
They charged simultaneously.
But this time, Ryan was a little faster. The +1 Agility, however small, made a difference. He sidestepped the first Whelp's lunge with a surprising nimbleness he didn't possess two minutes ago, and his knife, guided by a newfound coordination, found its mark on the creature's exposed neck.
Another yelp, another +20 NP. Assimilation Level progress: 40/100.
One left.
The last Spine Whelp, seeing its second packmate fall, seemed to lose its nerve.
It let out a panicked yelp, fired a wild spray of quills that mostly hit a nearby tree, then turned and bolted into the undergrowth, disappearing in a flash of bristling fur.
Ryan stood there, panting, his arm throbbing, his cheap knife dripping with something he didn't want to think too hard about.
He was alive. He had killed two hostile creatures. And he had gained a permanent boost to his agility.
He quickly extracted from the second dead Whelp, gaining another +1 Permanent Agility and another sample of Quill Toxin.
His Agility was now 12. He felt well, he still wouldn't win any dance competitions, but he definitely felt less likely to trip over air.
He finally turned his attention to the young man who had screamed. He knelt beside him. The man's eyes were open, staring blankly at the leafy canopy above.
There was no life in them. The CommNet would probably report another casualty soon.
Liam "Swift" Davies, the Interface identified him from some kind of lingering vital signature. Poor Liam. His "swiftness" hadn't been enough.
Ryan felt a pang of sadness, and a cold dose of reality. This god Verse was deadly serious. Aptitudes and levels weren't just for fun. They were for survival.
And his SSS-Tier system, it was more than just interesting. It was his key.