[Status: Iron-Bound Stalker Mimic – Level 10]
[Current HP: 250/250]
[Hunger: 85/100]
Movement was a revelation.
For the first week of my existence, I had perceived the world as a series of static images and vibrations. I was a rock with teeth, tethered to a single damp corner by the laws of physics and my own pathetic weight. Now? Now, the world was three-dimensional. It had height. It had depth. It had... angles.
*Klak. Klak. Klak.*
My four metallic, spider-like legs struck the stone floor with a rhythmic precision. I wasn't just walking; I was a heavy-duty vault being carried by a nightmare. I could feel the tension in the wood of my legs, reinforced by the iron essence of the shields I'd digested. They were strong. Springy.
I approached the threshold of my "Spawn Room." For the first time, I didn't wait for the door to open. I shoved it. The heavy oak door, which had once felt like an impenetrable barrier, creaked on its hinges and yielded to my new Strength stat.
I stepped into the corridor.
The air here was different. It didn't smell like my stagnant, acidic bile. It smelled of sulfur, rotting flesh, and the sharp, metallic tang of distant magic. My *Mana Sense* went haywire. The hallway stretched out into the darkness, lit by guttering torches that cast long, flickering shadows. To any other creature, those shadows were hiding spots. To me, they were a buffet.
[Skill Activated: Skitter]
I shifted my weight and lunged toward the wall. My steel-tipped claws bit into the mortar between the stone bricks. Gravity tried to pull my three-hundred-pound frame back down, but my new Agility stat laughed at it. I scrambled up the vertical surface and tucked myself into the corner where the wall met the ceiling.
I hung there, upside down, looking like a gargoyle made of furniture.
*Thud. Drag. Thump.*
Something was coming from the left. I stilled my breath—well, I stilled the rhythmic clicking of my hinges. My *Bio-Detection* picked up a rhythm, but it was wrong. It wasn't the steady, warm *thump-thump* of a human heart. It was a cold, scraping sound. Hollow.
Three figures rounded the corner.
[Skeleton Warrior - Lvl 4]
[Skeleton Warrior - Lvl 5]
[Skeleton Archer - Lvl 5]
Undead.
I felt a surge of disappointment. Skeletons were the "junk food" of the dungeon. No blood to drink, no organs to dissolve, and their souls were thin, brittle things tethered by low-grade necromancy. But I was curious. If I ate a human and got lockpicking, what would I get if I ate a pile of animated calcium?
The Skeletons walked directly beneath me. They didn't look up. Undead AI was notoriously simple; they were programmed to look for intruders on the ground, not for predatory treasure chests hanging from the ceiling.
"Target acquired," I thought.
[Skill Activated: Ambush Leap]
I released my grip.
I didn't just fall; I launched. I used my powerful rear legs to kick off the ceiling, adding momentum to my massive weight. I landed squarely on the lead Skeleton Warrior.
*CRUNCH.*
The Level 5 Skeleton didn't even have a chance to raise its rusted sword. My weight flattened its ribcage into bone meal instantly.
[Enemy Defeated: Skeleton Warrior (Lvl 5)]
[Experience Gained: 25 XP]
"Pathertic," I grumbled internally. The XP was a joke.
The other two skeletons rattled in surprise. The Archer tried to notch a bone-tipped arrow, but I was already moving. Being a *Stalker Mimic* meant I didn't have to wait for them to come to me. I skittered across the floor on my four legs, my body swaying like a heavy pendulum.
The second Warrior swung a jagged blade at my lid.
*CLANG!*
The blade hit my iron-bound side and bounced off. I didn't even feel it. My Defense stat was now so high that low-level mobs might as well have been hitting me with wet noodles.
I lashed out with a leg. My steel claw caught the Skeleton's pelvis and ripped it clean off. As the undead collapsed into a heap of rattling parts, I opened my lid and scooped the skull and torso inside.
[Devour in Progress...]
The Archer fired. An arrow hissed through the air and lodged itself in my obsidian wood.
[HP: 248/250]
"That's annoying," I thought.
I didn't charge the Archer. I wanted to try something else. I focused on the internal "Inventory" of my stomach. I still had a few rusted daggers from the Rogue I'd eaten in Chapter 1.
[Skill Activated: Tongue Lash + Item Ejection]
My tongue whipped out, but this time, it was holding a dagger. I flicked my "muscle" with the force of a ballista. The dagger blurred through the air, catching the Skeleton Archer right in its glowing eye socket. The necromantic flame flickered and died.
[Combat Over.]
I stood over the piles of bone, my legs clicking as I paced in a circle. I began to eat. I shoveled the femurs, the ribs, and the shattered skulls into my maw.
It was like eating dry crackers. Dusty, flavorless, and irritatingly crunchy.
[Devour Complete. Extracting Attributes...]
[Mutation Points Gained: 2]
[Loot Acquired: Bone Meal (Crafting Material)]
[Warning: Undead essence is incompatible with 'Growth'. However, it is compatible with 'Structure'.]
[New Passive Gained: Bone-Reinforced Frame (Lvl 1)]
[Effect: Your internal wooden frame is laced with calcium. Durability +5%.]
I hummed—a low vibration in my hinges. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Mutation Points? That sounded like the "Patreon-tier" power-ups I needed. If I could collect enough of those, I could probably evolve parts of my body without waiting for a full Level Milestone.
But my hunger wasn't satisfied. In fact, eating the dry bones had made me even more ravenous for something... organic. Something with Mana-rich blood.
I turned my "gaze" further down the hall. My *Mana Sense* picked up a flare of warmth. Voices.
"I'm telling you, Jax, the map says the shortcut is through the Hall of Whispers," a female voice echoed.
"The map is thirty years old, Elara. For all we know, this whole sector has been reclaimed by the abyss," a male voice replied.
Human voices. Soft skin. Leather boots. Pockets full of gold and magic rings.
I felt a predatory shiver run through my wood grain. I didn't stay on the floor. I skittered back up to the ceiling, my black body blending perfectly with the shadows of the vaulted arches.
The food chain in this dungeon had just been reshuffled. The "Scavengers" were coming, thinking they were the hunters.
They had no idea that the loot was now hunting them.
I began to move, shadow to shadow, silent as a grave. I wasn't just a chest anymore. I was the reason why veteran adventurers always told rookies to never, ever look away from the furniture.
*Klak... klak... klak...*
"Did you hear that?" the female voice asked, sounding closer now.
"Hear what?"
"A clicking sound. Like... iron on stone."
"It's just the dungeon settling, Elara. Stop being paranoid."
I smiled, or at least, I adjusted my lid in a way that felt like a smile. *Keep walking, Jax. Keep walking right into my mouth.*
[Hunger: 90/100]
[Status: Predatory Stealth Active]