The flower didn't taste like a plant. It didn't taste like meat, either.
It tasted like electricity and rotten grapes.
As Ren swallowed the glowing violet pulp, he expected his stomach to cramp. He expected the familiar burn of dungeon toxicity—the kind of poisoning that usually killed rookies who drank unfiltered water.
Instead, he felt cold.
A sharp, paralyzing chill spread from his stomach to his fingertips. It wasn't the cold of the dungeon air; it was the cold of a void. It felt as if he had swallowed a black hole that was now expanding, sucking the warmth and life right out of his marrow.
Ren clawed at his throat, trying to gag, trying to bring it back up. But his muscles locked. He collapsed onto the dusty floor of the small cave, his body seizing in a violent, silent rhythm.
I'm dying, he thought, his vision tunneling into a pinprick of grey. I ate a glowing weed in a god's grave, and now I'm dying like a rat.
But as his consciousness faded, the darkness behind his eyelids wasn't empty.
He saw something.
He saw a mouth. A maw the size of a galaxy, lined with teeth made of stars, opening wide to swallow a burning sun. He felt an emotion that wasn't his own—an ancient, bottomless hunger that had existed before the concept of "food" was even invented.
A voice, booming and resonant, echoed in the cathedral of his mind.
[...Data corruption detected...]
[...Re-routing biological pathways...]
[...Host is insufficient. Host is fragile. Host is... tasty?]
Then, the pain stopped.
Ren gasped, bolting upright.
He was alive.
He frantically patted his chest, his face, his ribs. The sharp, stabbing pain of his fractured ribs was gone, replaced by a dull, throbbing ache. The deep gash on his arm from the fall had sealed shut, leaving behind a faint, jagged scar that looked days old, not hours.
"I... I'm okay?" Ren whispered. His voice sounded raspy, deeper than before.
"Define 'okay'."
Ren froze.
The voice hadn't come from the cave. It hadn't come from his earpiece. It had come from inside his skull. It was a smooth, cultured voice, dripping with arrogance—like a butler who had just caught you using the wrong fork for the salad.
Ren scrambled backward, pressing his back against the cold stone wall. "Who's there? Show yourself!"
"Show myself?" the voice scoffed. "My dear boy, I am currently woven into your nervous system. If I showed myself, you would turn inside out. And while that would be visually spectacular, it would be terribly inconvenient for my survival."
A blue light flickered in front of Ren's eyes. It was the System Interface—but it was wrong.
Usually, the System was a clean, sterile blue. This screen was glitching, the pixels bleeding into a dark, bruised violet. The text wasn't the standard Sans-Serif font of the Hunter Association. It was sharp, Gothic, and aggressive.
[System Reboot Complete.]
[User: Ren Walker]
[Class: SCAVENGER >>> ERROR >>> PREDATOR ( Awakening...)]
[Patron: The Starving King (Sealed)]
Ren stared at the text. "Predator? Patron? I don't have a Patron. I'm F-Rank. Gods don't look at F-Ranks."
"They do when you eat a piece of their soul," the voice inside his head drawled. "That 'flower' you scavenged? That was a mana-shard leaking from my tomb. You essentially just ate my hangnail. Gross, by the way."
Ren clutched his head. "I'm hallucinating. The fall caused brain damage."
"Oh, stop whining. Look at your stats. Specifically, the new one."
Ren focused on the floating screen. The numbers scrolled past.
[Strength: 8 >> 12]
[Agility: 9 >> 14]
[Mana: 2 >> 5]
[Unique Stat Unlocked: HUNGER]
[Hunger Level: 15%]
"My stats..." Ren's eyes widened. "They went up? Without leveling up?"
In the standard System, stats only increased when you gained a Level or wore expensive gear. Ren's strength had jumped four points instantly. That was equivalent to months of physical training.
"You are welcome," the voice said. "I am the System AI assigned to manage your... transition. You may call me Gluttony."
"Gluttony," Ren repeated.
"Yes. And we have a problem, Ren. My reboot consumed a significant amount of bio-energy. You see that Hunger stat?"
Ren looked at the 15%. It was slowly ticking up. 16%... 17%...
"If that hits 100%, you enter a feral state. You will attack and consume the nearest living thing regardless of size or danger. And right now, the nearest living thing is that delightful little morsel scurrying near your left boot."
Ren looked down.
A beetle, the size of a dinner plate, was crawling out of the debris. Its shell was iridescent black, and its mandibles clicked rhythmically. In the past, Ren would have seen a gross insect. He would have felt revulsion.
Now?
His mouth watered. Saliva flooded his tongue, thick and corrosive.
The beetle didn't look like a bug. It looked like a protein bar. He could practically see the calories radiating off it.
"What is happening to me?" Ren asked, terrified by his own appetite.
"Evolution," Gluttony whispered. "The food chain is a ladder, Ren. You were on the bottom rung. I just kicked you up a step. Now, eat. Before you starve us both."
Ren hesitated. It was a bug. A giant, dungeon bug.
But the hunger was physical pain now. It twisted his gut like a wet towel. Without thinking, Ren snatched the beetle. The creature hissed, its legs flailing, but Ren's grip was iron.
He didn't hesitate. He crunched down.
The shell cracked. Bitter fluid exploded in his mouth, followed by the sweet, savory taste of the meat inside.
[Consumed: Cave Scrab (Level 1)]
[Bio-Mass Acquired.]
[Hunger: 5%]
[XP Gained: 0]
Ren gagged, wiping slime from his mouth. "That was vile."
"Vile? It was texture," Gluttony critiqued. "A bit earthy. Lacked seasoning. But it will keep the engine running."
Ren sat back, breathing heavily. He had eaten a monster. Raw. And he had liked it.
boom.
The ground shook.
Ren froze. The vibrations were rhythmic. Heavy.
He crawled to the edge of his small cave, peering out into the massive obsidian cavern.
Below him, moving through the field of fossilized bones, was the creature that had chased him. The Rot-Behemoth.
Now that there was some distance, Ren could see it clearly. It was a nightmare of flesh—a mound of muscle and tumors roughly the size of a city bus. It walked on six misshapen limbs, dragging a tail that dripped acid. Its purple eyes scanned the darkness.
Ren shrank back, making himself as small as possible.
"Impressive," Gluttony murmured. "A necro-construct. Low quality, stitched together from refuse, but rich in mana."
"It's going to kill us," Ren hissed.
"Currently? Yes," Gluttony agreed cheerfully. "If you fight that now, you will be a smear on the pavement in three seconds. However..."
A red marker appeared in Ren's vision, highlighting a specific spot on the Behemoth's back—a pulsating green tumor.
"That is its Core. If you eat that, we could skip the appetizer and go straight to the main course. It would probably taste like aged cheese and power."
"You're insane," Ren whispered. "I have a knife and 12 Strength. I'm not hunting that."
"Not yet," Gluttony corrected. "But look closer. What is it doing?"
Ren squinted. The Behemoth wasn't hunting. It was... grazing. It ripped a massive bone from the ground—a dragon's rib—and crunched it between its jaws.
"It eats the dead to maintain its form," Gluttony explained. "It is a scavenger. Just like you."
Ren watched the monster. For years, he had been told that monsters were mindless killing machines. But this thing was just eating. It was surviving.
"We need to leave," Ren said, crawling back into the shadows. "I need to find a way up."
"Agreed. This level is too high for you. But remember this feeling, Ren. The fear? That is good. Fear keeps the meat tender."
Ren looked at his hands. In the faint blue light of the interface, his fingernails looked different. They were thicker. Sharper.
"One last thing," Gluttony added as Ren stood up. "Since we are partners now, I have taken the liberty of adjusting your visual settings. You might find it useful."
Ren blinked.
The darkness of the cavern shifted. The absolute black melted away into shades of grey. Outlines became sharp. He could see the heat signature of the Behemoth below—a burning red mass. He could see the faint white glow of small insects hiding in the cracks of the walls.
[Passive Skill: Night Vision (Grade E) - Acquired.]
Ren took a deep breath. The air tasted stale, but he could smell things he couldn't before. Ozone. Sulfur. And miles above him... the faint, sweet scent of rain.
"Which way is out?" Ren asked.
"Up," Gluttony said. "Through the ventilation shafts. But Ren? You're going to need more calories to make that climb. Look to your right."
Ren looked. A nest of Cave Scrabs—maybe twenty of them—was huddled in a fissure.
Ren pulled out his rusted knife.
"Bon appétit," he whispered.