He stopped.
A cascade could be heard ahead. Water flowed gently, spilling into a river below. Flies hovered above it—some small, some larger. Some round and chunkier, others slim and elongated. Many species, each with different colors and shapes.
Predators lurked nearby, waiting for a mistake.
For now, two dominant creatures occupied the few stones rising above the river. They belonged to the same broader kind—yet they were completely different.
One was translucent. Ethereal. Its organs could be faintly seen through its body. Its color was white—almost identical to the nature of monster cores. Thick, muscular hind legs supported it, each limb ending in many fingers. Horizontal pupils rested beneath half-closed eyelids, giving the impression that it was barely awake, as if always on the verge of sleep.
On the opposite stone sat the other.
At first glance, it looked ordinary. A maroon body, white-tipped fingers, and two perfectly round black shapes instead of eyes. But those eyes were fully open—always. Constantly scanning, searching, as if waiting for its prey to make a single mistake.
Looking at it, he was mesmerized.
It reminded him of the storage space. Of that moment just before an item vanished—when the black void was waiting for the item to drop in just to consume it.
Only now did he realize it.
When he had infiltrated the ant colony for the first time, he hadn't noticed the beauty of this place. Perhaps exhaustion had dulled him. Perhaps the timing was different, and these creatures only emerged at certain hours.
He couldn't tell.
They hunted the same way. Creeping close enough for their elongated tongues to strike at insects—sometimes succeeding, sometimes not.
Hunger interrupted his thoughts.
His core pulsed, begging to be fed. A low growl echoed from within him, persistent, demanding.
Forced by need and hastened by time, he stepped forward and jumped, aiming to find the ore here.
And—he did.
Or rather, he tried.
He floated.
He tried again.
And again.
Irritated by the repeated failure and the unchanging result, he stopped.
"I need to change my approach"
"Change"
"Change, huh?"
"Gene Point"
"WAIT."
Realization struck him. He still had one.
He could try. It might be his solution.
This time, he wasn't specific. He simply trusted the system to understand. He willed the point to be absorbed—to reshape his body into one capable of diving.
In the next instant, the point seeped into him, and internal modifications began. His core downsized slightly, preparing for the formation of a secondary core. This one wouldn't take the shape of a sphere—it crystallized into a skeleton.
Dusty mana particles rearranged themselves. One by one they solidified: spine first, then pelvis, sternum, femur, humerus, and the rest.
The process took longer than before. Clearly, this wasn't an easy modification.
When it ended, the dusty particles roaming inside him were significantly lower—but he didn't panic. The core would replenish it, pumping mana through him like blood.
He stepped forward.
Equilibrium.
Stable.
This was new.
A smile crept across his face.
Maybe this time I won't float.
A notification rang.
[Body Modification Complete ]
[Crystallized Mana Lattice Successfully Formed ]
Crystallized Mana Lattice, huh?
He believed the system was referring to the newly formed structure inside him.
Once more, his gaze fell on the water—and he jumped.
This time, he didn't float.
He sank.
His movements were clumsy. Arms and legs flailed, barely pushing him forward. At times his head dipped beneath the surface—water slipping into his mouth and nostrils. The first was manageable. The second was irritating.
His nostrils burned—not like the ant queen's acid, but in a sharp, persistent way that refused to be ignored.
Slowly, his body adjusted. Movements steadied. His limbs began to obey. At first he lingered near the surface, then—after growing accustomed—he ventured deeper.
He often forgot to breathe beforehand.
A notification rang.
[Through repeated action, you have acquired the skill: Novice Swimmer ]
He read it then ignored it. He was not here to get skills but to fix his hunger.
Inhale.Exhale.Hold.
—Dive.
At first, he barely sank. But repetition shaped instinct. Each attempt carried him farther.
After many dives, he reached what felt like halfway.
He climbed onto a rock near the shore and rested. Despite the hunger gnawing at him, he felt satisfaction.
If he continued, he would reach the bottom.
—And he did.
After what felt like an eternity, his feet touched stone.
Boulders surrounded him—some smooth and bare, others draped in moss. The riverbed was layered with textures: minuscule stones, fine grains, crushed fragments of rock that defied easy description. Leaves and shell fragments lay scattered among them.
Life thrived here.
Shelled insects clung to stones. Fish darted through the water. Carnivorous creatures hid within algae, striking only when prey came too close.
But—
no ore.
His search grew frantic. Every crevice. Every shadow.
Nothing.
Irritation flared. He kicked a small creature resting on the riverbed, sending it tumbling away.
*Squeal?*
The creature confused let out a high-pitched sound wondering what it did wrong.
His lungs burned. He pushed off the bottom and swam back towards the surface.
He would try once more.
And if it failed again, he would search elsewhere.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Hold.
—Dive.
Unlucky.
The growl inside him grew louder. Hunger scraped at his patience, sharpening his irritation with every breath. All the fighting before hadn't helped—it had only worsened his state.
He climbed out of the water, movements stiff and hurried.
This place was shallow.
He needed deeper water.