The next few days became a weird, delicious, and incredibly productive routine. My dorm, once a monument to minimalist living, now looked like a mad scientist's kitchen crossed with a gym.
Boxes of Spider Arancar silk glands and jars of Slime Jelly were stacked next to my weight set. I'd become a master of disgusting-sounding, yet surprisingly tasty, power meals. My specialty was "Silk-Shake Smoothies": Silk glands blended with slime jelly, a banana (to make it feel like a somewhat normal breakfast), and a scary-looking green powder called "Mana-Kale" that was supposed to help with energy conversion. It tasted like sweetened grass and pasta, but I chugged it like my life depended on it. Because, in a way, it did.
The effects were nothing short of miraculous. It was like I'd finally found the stat menu for my own body.
My physical strength, which had been pathetically stuck at lifting maybe 30kg on a good day (and that was with a lot of screaming and questionable form), began to creep up. I could now heft a solid 50kg without feeling like my spine was going to turn into dust. It wasn't Hulk-level, but for a guy who considered getting out of bed a cardio workout, it was a revolution. My muscles weren't bulging, but they felt denser, more efficient. It was like the silk was reinforcing me from the inside out, weaving into my very fibers.
But the real game-changer was my stamina. Remember the soul-crushing emptiness after trying to lift those weights with my strings? That was becoming a distant memory. My internal "mana bar" wasn't a tiny puddle anymore; it was now a respectably-sized kiddie pool. I could practice for hours without wanting to pass out. The constant, low-level energy from the silk-infused diet was topping me up faster than I could drain myself.
This led to my biggest breakthrough yet: the **Silk Shield**.
It started as a desperate idea during a training session. I was trying to multi-task, maintaining my [Monofilament Slash] while rapid-firing [Sting Shots]. I kept getting distracted, my focus wavering. *'I wish I didn't have to think about defense,'* I'd grumbled to myself.
And then it clicked. Why did I have to *think* about it?
The silk wasn't just in my stomach; my power had absorbed its *concept*: resilience, protection, a woven network. I focused not on creating a shield in front of me, but on imagining my body itself being constantly wrapped in a million microscopic, interconnected strings—a second skin of invisible, silk armor.
The first time I tried it, the stamina drain was intense. It was like trying to hold a full-body flex while doing calculus. But I kept at it, and with every Silk-Shake smoothie, it got easier. The strings became finer, the weave tighter, the energy cost lower.
Now, it was almost automatic. A permanent, naked-to-the-eye sheath of reinforced energy silk wrapped around me from head to toe. It wasn't a forcefield that could stop a truck; it was more like wearing a suit of the world's strongest, most flexible chainmail. It would stop a slash, deflect a small projectile, and probably make a punch feel like a light tap. I hadn't tested it in combat, but the feeling of constant, subtle protection was a huge psychological boost.
My three core skills evolved with this new power surge:
* **[Puppet Strings]** felt effortless. I could now control a whole ensemble of chairs, brooms, and gym equipment simultaneously without breaking a sweat, making my dorm look like the world's weirdest ballet.
* **[Sting Shot]** was no longer a BB gun. It was now a .22 caliber rifle. A single *puff* could blow a fist-sized chunk out of the training dummy. A rapid-fire volley turned it into Swiss cheese.
* **[Monofilament Slash]** was terrifyingly precise. I could now make the wire so thin it could theoretically split a atom, and I could hold it steady for minutes instead of seconds, humming with lethal potential.
I stood in the private training room, looking at the annihilated dummy. It wasn't just cut; it was shredded, pulverized, and partially dissected.
"Hmm," I said, scratching my chin. "I might be a little overpowered for a C-Rank now."
A goofy grin spread across my face. This was all because of a weird cooking class and my stubborn refusal to accept that spaghetti jello was a bad idea.
Tomorrow was another class. Maybe Professor Vance would have more world-shattering theories. Maybe Instructor Borin would have us spar again. Maybe Professor Petal would unveil the secrets of deep-fried demon wings.
Whatever it was, I was ready. I was well-rested, well-fed, and wrapped in an invisible suit of spider-silk armor. I was no longer just trying to survive this world.
I was starting to really enjoy it.