The next day's subject was, to put it mildly, not a popular one. **Monster Cuisine: Identifying Edible Organs**. The classroom was only half-full. Most of the B-Rank snobs from my combat class were conspicuously absent, probably thinking such a "menial" topic was beneath them. Their loss. In a death world, knowing what you can and can't eat seemed pretty damn important to me.
The professor was the exact opposite of Instructor Borin. She was a short, cheerful woman with sunny blonde hair tied under a kerchief and a smile that could probably calm a rabid hellhound. She introduced herself as Professor Petal. Seriously. Professor Petal. She looked like she should be hosting a baking show, not lecturing on how to disembowel a demon boar.
"Good morning, my dear students!" she chirped. "Today, we explore the silver lining of the Spatial Cataclysm: the bountiful, if sometimes… wiggly… buffet it has provided us!"
She wasn't kidding. The lecture was a wild ride. I learned that monster parts weren't just for weird collectors or trophy hunters; they were a cornerstone of advanced alchemy and enhancement.
"It's all about the concentrated dimensional energy!" Professor Petal explained, gesturing to a hologram of a truly terrifying shark-like monster labeled 'Megalodon - A-Rank - Aquatic Crack'. "Take the liver of this big fellow. If you can somehow acquire it—which requires, oh, a full team of A-Rank Hunters and probably several funerals—and manage to eat even a sliver, it can regenerate lost limbs! It's a true panacea!"
My eyes went wide. Insta-heal? Grow back hands? That was game-breaking stuff. Then I saw the estimated market value flashing below the hologram: **15,000,000 Unions**. I choked on my own saliva. I could buy a small island for that. Or, you know, 150,000 months of rent.
The prices were insane. Every powerful organ was a fortune. This wasn't just a class; it was an economics lesson on why being a top-tier Hunter made you filthy rich.
But then Professor Petal moved on to the "lesser" monsters. The common ones. The ones newbies like me might actually encounter.
"And we mustn't overlook the humble ingredients!" she said, pulling up an image of a wobbly, blue Slime. "The Gelatinous Core of a common Slime, for instance, is quite nutritious and is a staple in many energy gels! Only 30 Unions per jar!"
Next to it, she showed a large, hairy spider—a Spider Arancar. "And the Silk Glands from these darlings are a great source of protein and are used to strengthen textiles! A mere 100 Unions!"
Then she showed a truly horrifying diagram. "Now, a fun, if acquired-taste, recipe from the Wastes is Spaghetti Jello! You combine the Arancar silk—which, when boiled, has a noodle-like consistency—with the liquefied Slime jelly! It creates a unique, bouncy, protein-packed meal!"
The class collectively gagged. Spaghetti Jello. It sounded like a crime against food.
But my brain, always looking for an angle, latched onto something else. Professor Petal had mentioned the silk was used to "strengthen textiles." And there was a research note on the hologram: *'Arancar silk, when treated with Slime enzymatic gel, demonstrates a curious molecular realignment, increasing tensile strength by 400%. Potential for industrial cable applications.'*
My heart skipped a beat.
*Stronger textiles… molecular realignment… increased tensile strength…*
I looked down at my hands. At the invisible strings I could produce.
What if…?
The idea was crazy. Probably stupid. But what if I couldn't just make my strings *sharper* or *faster*? What if I could make them *stronger*? What if I didn't have to rely solely on my own stamina to reinforce them? What if I could use an external agent?
The second class ended, I practically ran back to my dorm. I didn't go to the training room. I went straight to my terminal and opened the UnionNet marketplace.
"Let's see… Slime Jelly… yes, 30 Unions. Add to cart."
"Spider Arancar Silk Gland… 100 Unions. Add to cart."
It was a gamble of 130 Unions. A little over a month's rent. If it didn't work, I was out a chunk of change and would be the proud owner of ingredients for a truly disgusting meal.
I clicked 'Purchase.' A confirmation popped up: **Delivery Estimate: Tomorrow. NEET.**
"NEET," I chuckled. This world's obsession with efficiency was even in its delivery slogans.
With my bizarre order placed, I finally headed to the private training room. But my focus was different today. I wasn't just practicing control or power. I was practicing *efficiency*.
I created a single [Monofilament Slash] and held it. I focused not on making it sharper, but on making it *denser*, on packing more energy into a tighter form, trying to mimic what an external strengthening agent might do. The stamina drain was noticeable, but I held it, studying the faint, almost imperceptible shimmer in the air.
This was a long shot. A crazy Hail Mary based on a cooking class and an industrial footnote.
But if it worked… if I could somehow fuse my energy strings with enhanced materials…
I might not just be a C-Rank [String Theorist] with good control.
I might be able to create strings that could truly compete with the big leagues. And I'd do it all starting with a jar of wobbly blue jelly and a spider's butt gland.
The thought was so absurd I started laughing alone in the training room. This was either going to be a breakthrough or the most expensive, grossest mistake of my new life.