The morning air was thick and warm. Droplets clung to the tips of ferns, sliding down to splash softly against the ground. The fallen tree that served as Luo Feng's shelter was no longer the damp, uncomfortable hollow it once had been. Over the past few days, he had gathered dry leaves, bark, and shredded moss, layering them carefully until the inside felt less cold, a small pocket of managed comfort in the vast, damp wilderness.
Now, it almost felt like his own space not home, but a place he could rest, a base from which to learn the rules of this new world.
The air smelled faintly of sap and soil, and when the wind pushed through the cracks in the trunk, it carried the earthy scent of rain from the deeper parts of the forest. Small insects scurried across the bark, keeping to the corners. He no longer minded them. This was their world, and now, his too, a shared domain of survival.
Luo Feng lifted his head slowly. Light filtered in through a narrow gap above, painting soft, golden stripes over his scales, illuminating the subtle patterns that were beginning to feel familiar. His tongue flicked out, tasting the air. The scents of the forest had grown sharper lately, more defined, a complex tapestry of information. He could tell which belonged to prey and which belonged to predators, a crucial language he was slowly mastering.
Hunger stirred quietly in his stomach not painful, but insistent, a dull ache that had become his constant companion.
He crept out of the hollow, claws brushing softly against damp bark. The jungle outside was alive again after the rain, buzzing with a renewed energy. Insects buzzed in shimmering clouds, frogs croaked from hidden pools, and somewhere far away, something shrieked and then fell silent, a reminder of the perpetual drama of life and death. The canopy dripped steadily, forming a rhythm that pulsed through the heavy air.
He paused near the base of the tree, eyes scanning the undergrowth. The light here was dim, tinted green by the layers of leaves above. The air shimmered faintly, carrying mist and scent, making everything look softened at the edges. Everything felt heavier after the rain, even sound itself, each noise muted by the moisture.
He began to move, slow and deliberate, a fluid shadow in the undergrowth.
The memory of failed hunts still lingered flashes of a darting tail, a startled jump, jaws closing on empty air. He had learned the cost of haste, the price of a single misstep. Every step he took now was slower, quieter, more intentional.
Find. Observe. Wait.
The forest rewarded patience, not hunger. It was a lesson written in missed opportunities and near fatal encounters.
His body flowed with a smooth, controlled rhythm. Each motion was calculated, muscles coiling and releasing with minimal waste. His eyes flicked from shadows to movement, from branch to soil, reading the signs of the forest. The forest around him whispered constantly the tremble of leaves in a faint breeze, the quiet patter of dripping water, the soft, almost imperceptible scrape of insect legs on bark.
Then, a faint splash, a clear and distinct sound amid the background murmur.
Luo Feng froze instantly, lowering his body into the damp ferns, becoming part of the foliage. Ahead, a shallow pool reflected the light above like a fractured mirror. At its edge, half submerged, a frog sat still as a stone. Its skin was dark green, with pale speckles across its back like scattered moss.
It twitched once, snapping its tongue to catch a fly that wandered too close.
Luo Feng's tongue flicked. A faint blue shimmer appeared before fading again.
"Target: green jungle frog, amphibious. Provides 0.5 bio energy."
He ignored the words. His focus was entirely on the frog, on the subtle tension in its limbs.
The ground here was soft, damp enough to muffle sound but slippery enough to betray a careless move. He lowered his body further, weight evenly distributed, his underside pressing into the cool wetness. His breathing slowed to almost nothing.
The frog didn't move, blissfully unaware.
He waited, a statue of scaled patience.
When the air stilled, when the frog's attention was fixed on another insect, he lunged.
Splash!
The frog jumped at the same instant, but his jaws closed around it midair. Its body squirmed briefly, a frantic pulse of life, before going limp. A faint metallic taste filled his mouth.
Ring!
"The host has successfully gained 0.5 bio energy."
He swallowed, feeling the faint pulse of warmth spread through his chest. Hunger eased slightly, the edge taken off. He didn't feel stronger, but his body no longer felt hollow, the emptiness temporarily held at bay. The change was subtle like refilling something invisible inside him.
He lingered near the pool, eyes sweeping the edge. Tiny ripples faded into nothing. Insects returned to their dance above the water, as if nothing had happened, the cycle continuing unabated.
He stayed still a little longer, letting the world settle around him again, his senses still tuned to the environment.
Then, a glimmer something crawling over a fallen log, its shell dark and smooth, reflecting pinpricks of light.
"Target: armored ground beetle. Provides 0.25 bio energy."
The beetle moved slowly, its legs scraping faintly against the rough bark. Luo Feng crept closer, pressing against the ground, his scales collecting a film of moisture. The bark was wet and cold beneath his belly. When the beetle neared a soft patch of moss, he struck.
Crunch.
The shell broke between his jaws, a bitter fluid spreading across his tongue.
Ring!
"The host has successfully gained 0.25 bio energy."
He swallowed, grimacing slightly. The taste lingered unpleasantly, sharp and earthy, but food was food. In this world, one could not afford to be picky.
The jungle never stopped moving. Even when he stayed perfectly still, life shifted all around him faint vibrations in the soil, the flutter of wings from a hidden bird, the quiet hum of something unseen moving through the undergrowth. It was endless motion, an orchestra of small lives playing without pause.
He had started to understand its rhythm, to anticipate its flows and ebbs.
Every few moments, he stopped to listen, his head tilting slightly, capturing sounds from every direction. A single misplaced sound could mean danger, a missed warning. The forest punished those who stopped paying attention, and the lesson was always final.
Something rustled behind him faint, quick, the sound of small feet on dry leaves. He turned sharply, body tensing, every muscle ready. A gray blur darted between roots, and his muscles reacted before conscious thought.
Rustle!
He lunged, but the small field mouse was faster, a blur of instinct and fear. It slipped between the cracks of a root and vanished underground. The air went still again, save for the faint rustling fading below into the darkness.
Luo Feng stayed frozen, breathing slow, analyzing the failed attempt. His tail flicked once, striking a broad leaf, sending a shower of droplets scattering into the air.
He wasn't frustrated not really. Just aware, his mind cataloging the experience.
Another lesson learned, another data point added to his growing understanding.
The forest was testing him, shaping him, sanding down his rough edges. Each failure pressed him closer to what he needed to become, a more perfect predator.
He waited a while longer, ensuring the mouse's flight had not attracted other attention, before turning back toward the fallen tree.
The path home wound between thick ferns and crooked roots, a familiar trail now. The air smelled of wet moss and old bark, a scent that was beginning to signify safety. Small creatures darted across his path lizards, insects, frogs each busy with its own survival, part of the great web. He no longer reacted to every movement. He had learned to tell which ones mattered and which didn't, conserving his energy for true opportunities.
When he reached the hollow, the familiar scent of bark and moss welcomed him like an old friend. Inside, the air was cool and dim, a relief from the humid warmth outside. The leaves he had gathered were still mostly dry, a testament to his improvements. He adjusted them slightly, pressing them tighter against the walls, shaping a smoother, more comfortable surface to lie on.
He even pushed a few bits of bark closer to the entrance, forming a narrow barrier that made the space feel more enclosed, more defensible.
It wasn't much, but it was something. It was progress.
He settled down, limbs folding comfortably into the nest he had made. His stomach was quiet, for now. The faint hum of insects filled the hollow, mixing with the steady drip of rain outside, a natural lullaby.
He had started to grow used to it the rhythm of this new life. Eat. Listen. Rest. Watch. Learn.
There was a strange peace in it, a simplicity born of pure purpose.
He watched the faint streaks of light that filtered through the cracks in the trunk. Dust motes drifted in the beams, slow and weightless, dancing in a light he could not feel.
Then, curiosity stirred, a quiet prompting from within.
Status.
A faint shimmer appeared in front of his eyes, quiet and steady, a window into his own being.
Host Property List
Level 3
Bio energy:9.75 / 30
Skill Points:0
Body Length:35 cm
Diameter:1.2 cm
Strength:0.2
Defense:0.1
Speed:0.4
Agility:0.7
Spirit:1.5
Physical Strength:1.0
Skills:Venomous Saliva (1/5)
Reputation Value:0 / 10,000,000
---
He studied the faint letters, his reflection shining faintly in the glowing text. The numbers were still small, but real proof of effort, of quiet persistence, of small victories won each day.
He didn't expect sudden growth. Power didn't come from waiting for miracles. It was built, bit by bit, meal by meal.
He blinked, and the faint blue light faded, leaving the dim, earthy hollow once more.
The forest outside continued its endless rhythm, a world of constant challenge and opportunity. The air pulsed with life, with countless stories like his own unfolding in the green shadows. Luo Feng lowered his head, his eyes half closed, listening to the world breathe.
Tomorrow, he would hunt again. The thought was neither exciting nor daunting. It was simply what came next.
The sound of dripping rain filled the hollow, steady and calm, a constant companion in his solitude.