Chapter 3: Glass Minnow Lv.2
The small, translucent fish hovered a few feet away, drifting lazily in the current. It was barely larger than Gray’s bell, its body shimmering with a faint silver sheen. Tiny fins fluttered at its sides like delicate ribbons.
Gray focused on it, trying to will some kind of information to appear. ’Come on, system. You gave me a status screen. Give me something here. Identify. Scan. Inspect. Observe—’
Ding!
A small window materialized beside the fish, far less grand than his own status screen but functional.
[GLASS MINNOW]
Level: 2
HP: 15 / 15
MP: 5 / 5
« Analysis »
A common schooling fish found in shallow and mid-depth waters. Weak individually but travels in large groups for protection. Possesses minimal offensive capabilities but can detect vibrations through the water with sensitive lateral lines. Flees at the first sign of danger.
Gray’s bell drooped. ’Level 2. It’s level 2 and I’m level 1. Haahh... even the tutorial fish is stronger than me.’
He watched the glass minnow bob gently in the water, utterly unthreatened by his presence. It didn’t even see him as a predator. Why would it? He was a jellyfish. Jellyfish drifted. They didn’t hunt. They just floated around hoping something edible bumped into their tentacles.
Which brought him to a rather pressing question.
’How do I actually... kill things?’
He pulled up his status screen again, this time focusing on the skills section. Three skills. He had three skills. That was something, at least.
’Open skill descriptions,’ he commanded.
The system blinked in response.
[SKILL: Bioluminescent Pulse]
Type: Passive
Level: 1
MP Cost: None
« Analysis »
Your body naturally produces a soft, rhythmic glow of pink and blue light. This bioluminescence is generated by specialized cells within your bell and tentacles. At current level, it provides faint illumination in dark waters and may attract small organisms.
Effect: Low-light visibility within 1 meter. Minor attraction effect on curious creatures.
’So I’m basically a living nightlight,’ Gray thought flatly. ’Great. That’s definitely going to help me not get eaten.’
He moved to the next skill.
[SKILL: Nematocyst Sting]
Type: Active (Automatic on contact)
Level: 1
MP Cost: 2 per discharge
« Analysis »
Your tentacles are lined with microscopic stinging cells called nematocysts. Upon physical contact with prey or threats, these cells fire tiny, venomous barbs that inject a paralytic toxin. At current level, the venom is mild and effective only on very small organisms.
Effect: Deals 2-4 damage on contact. 10% chance to inflict [Paralyze] for 2 seconds on targets smaller than the user.
’Okay. Okay... that’s a weapon.’
He glanced at the glass minnow. It was roughly his size. The skill description said "targets smaller than the user." That ruled out the minnow. And probably most things in this ocean.
His enthusiasm dimmed.
’Right. Moving on.’
[SKILL: Static Discharge]
Type: Active
Level: 1
MP Cost: 15
Cooldown: 30 seconds
« Analysis »
Channel bioelectric energy through your body and release it in a sudden, crackling burst. This is your species’ rare defensive mutation, granting you an ability most moon jellyfish do not possess. At current level, the discharge is unfocused and drains significant energy.
Effect: Deals 8-12 electrical damage in a 1-meter radius. 20% chance to inflict [Stun] for 3 seconds. Warning: High MP cost. Use sparingly.
Gray reread the last skill twice. Then a third time.
’This is what I used on that nightmare lamprey thing,’ he realized. ’Eight to twelve damage? That’s... that’s actually decent. But fifteen MP when I only have twenty-five total? I can use it once, maybe twice before I’m completely drained.’
Still, it was something. It was more than something. It was the reason he was still alive right now instead of being digested inside a bony serpent’s stomach.
’Alright. I’ve got a sting for small stuff, a shock for emergencies, and I’m a pretty lamp. Not the worst starter kit. I’ve played roguelikes with worse loadouts.’
He dismissed the skill windows and refocused on the glass minnow. It was still there, drifting obliviously. Level 2. HP 15. His nematocyst sting did 2-4 damage. His static discharge did 8-12.
’If I shock it and then sting it... that could work. Assuming it doesn’t just swim away the moment I—’
He tried to move forward.
His body pulsed weakly. He drifted about half a foot. The glass minnow, sensing the tiny vibration in the water, flicked its tail and darted three feet to the left. Effortlessly. Instantly.
Gray stared.
’...Right. I’m a jellyfish. Jellyfish don’t chase things. Jellyfish don’t even really swim. They just... go where the water takes them.’
The crushing weight of his situation settled over him again. He had a target right in front of him. And he couldn’t even reach it.
’Okay. Think. Think. How do jellyfish actually move?’
He cast his mind back to the nature documentaries he’d half-watched during insomnia-fueled late nights. Jellyfish moved by contracting their bells. Pulse and drift. Pulse and drift. It was simple in principle but executing it with a body that had no bones, no muscles in the human sense, no limbs, no anything familiar...
He tried to contract his bell deliberately with intention.
His body scrunched inward awkwardly, one side contracting more than the other. He tilted and wobbled, drifting in a small, pathetic semicircle before the motion petered out.
’That was... not great.’
He tried again. Contract. Release.
This time the pulse was slightly more even. He moved forward in a mostly straight line. Maybe eight inches. Progress.
’Contract and release. Like breathing. Except I don’t breathe anymore. So just... like a heartbeat. A pulse.’
He focused on the rhythm of it. Contract. Release. Contract. Release. Each pulse pushed water through his bell and propelled him forward in a gentle, wobbling drift. It was achingly slow compared to the fish that surrounded him, but it was movement. Intentional movement.
’Okay. This is manageable. I’m not going to win any races, but I can steer. Sort of.’
He practiced turning. By contracting one side of his bell more than the other, he could angle himself. It was clumsy and imprecise, like trying to steer a boat with a single, floppy oar, but after a few minutes of awkward spiraling, he began to get the hang of it.
Then there were the tentacles.
His tentacles. Four of them, long and translucent, trailing beneath his bell like forgotten ribbons. They moved on their own, swaying with the current, responding to vibrations in the water that his conscious mind couldn’t even perceive. When he tried to control them directly, nothing happened. They were autonomous. Instinct-driven.
’But I need them to sting things,’ he thought, frustrated. ’How do I aim them if I can’t control them?’
He experimented. When he angled his body downward and pulsed forward, the tentacles trailed behind him in a net-like spread. When he pulsed backward, they drifted ahead of him.
’So I don’t aim the tentacles. I aim my body. The tentacles just... follow.’
It was counterintuitive. As a human, he was used to reaching for things, grabbing them with hands, manipulating objects directly. This body didn’t work that way. He couldn’t grab. He couldn’t reach. He could only position himself and let his trailing tentacles make contact.
’I’m not a hunter. I’m a trap. A floating, glowing, barely mobile trap.’
The realization was humbling but useful. He stopped trying to move like a human and started thinking like a jellyfish. He let the current carry him when it was going his way. He pulsed only when he needed to adjust course. He conserved energy. He watched and waited.
The glass minnow was still nearby, having forgotten about him entirely.
Gray positioned himself above it, letting his tentacles dangle downward like fishing lines. If the minnow drifted up, it would brush against them. If he could just get close enough...
’Patience,’ he told himself. ’Jellyfish don’t chase. They wait.’
It went against every gamer instinct he had. In games, you rushed in. You attacked. You ground levels aggressively. But this wasn’t a game where you could respawn if you messed up. This was his second life, and it was fragile.
He could not afford to be reckless.
’Fine. We do this the jellyfish way.’
He drifted, waiting for the minnow to make a mistake.
’Level 1 versus Level 2. Let’s see what happens.’