Chapter 6: Temporary Shelter
Gray drifted through the dark water, each pulse of his bell steadier than the last. The swarm was long behind him now, and the distant roar had faded into silence. Whether that was reassuring or deeply unsettling, he hadn’t decided yet.
His tentacles tingled with every vibration in the water, feeding him information his conscious mind was still learning to interpret. Currents shifting. Temperature changes. The distant scurrying of something small. And then, a difference in texture, something solid ahead.
He pulsed toward it.
The seafloor rose gradually from the abyss, a slope of dark stone and pale sand. Boulders jutted from the sediment like the bones of some ancient, buried giant, their surfaces crusted with barnacles and swaying tufts of something that looked like underwater moss. And there, nestled between two of the largest boulders, was a gap. A crevice just large enough for a moon jellyfish to slip through.
Gray approached cautiously, his bioluminescence casting pink and blue shadows across the rock face. The crevice opened into a small hollow, protected on three sides by stone. The current barely reached inside. Nothing larger than his bell could possibly squeeze through the entrance.
’This is perfect.’
He pulsed into the hollow and let his body settle near the sandy bottom. For the first time since waking up in this nightmare ocean, he felt something close to safe.
[LOCATION DISCOVERED: HIDDEN CREVICE]
[This location is suitable for rest. Would you like to designate it as a temporary shelter?]
’Yes. Absolutely yes.’
[SHELTER DESIGNATED: HIDDEN CREVICE]
[While resting in a designated shelter, HP and MP regeneration rates are increased by 50%.]
[Current MP Regen: 1.5 per 60 seconds.]
’Fifty percent bonus. That’s... still painfully slow, but I’ll take it.’
He let himself relax, his bell softening, his tentacles spreading across the sandy floor like discarded ribbons. The tension of the past hour slowly drained out of him. His bioluminescence dimmed to a soft, sleepy glow.
And then his stomach twisted.
Or rather, something deep in his gelatinous body did something that his brain interpreted as hunger. It was a strange, hollow ache, nothing like the familiar pangs of his human stomach but unmistakable nonetheless.
’I haven’t eaten since... the convenience store,’ he realized. ’The spicy chicken noodles. I never even got to pay for them.’
A small, bitter pulse ran through him. He’d spent his whole human life being unremarkable, and now he couldn’t even be reincarnated as something with a spine. The universe really did have a sense of humor.
’Haah... i really wanted those noodles.’
He shook himself metaphorically, since he had no head to shake. This wasn’t the time for self-pity. He was alive. Sort of. And he needed food.
’System,’ he thought, pulling up his status. ’What do jellyfish eat?’
The system didn’t answer directly, but a new notification appeared.
[HUNGER STATUS: 22%]
[Your current form absorbs nutrients through passive filter-feeding. Small organisms that drift into your tentacles are automatically paralyzed, drawn toward your oral arms, and digested.]
[Tip: Remaining stationary in areas with high plankton density will gradually restore hunger. Active hunting is not required for basic sustenance at your current level.]
’Filter-feeding. Of course. I eat by... existing in the right place.’
He focused his senses outward. The water in the crevice was still, but beyond the entrance, he could feel them. Tiny specks of life, too small to see individually, drifting in the gentle current. Plankton. The building blocks of the ocean food chain. The lowest rung of the ladder.
’And now that’s my diet. Microscopic organisms.’
He positioned himself near the crevice entrance, letting the faint current wash over his tentacles. The nematocysts fired automatically, tiny stings he barely felt, each one capturing a speck of organic matter too small to even grant experience points. His tentacles curled inward, drawing the captured plankton toward the frilly oral arms beneath his bell.
And then he tasted it.
’...What?’
It shouldn’t have tasted like anything. Plankton wasn’t supposed to have a flavor profile. And yet.
’It tastes like... oyster? With a hint of shrimp? Like the seafood platter I got at that overpriced restaurant for my birthday three years ago. The one I ate alone at the bar because I didn’t want to take up a whole table.’
He caught another mouthful of plankton.
’And now... crab? Like the soft-shell crab appetizer. The one the waiter recommended.’
Tears didn’t work in jellyfish bodies. But if they did, Gray might have cried.
’I’m eating gourmet seafood-flavored plankton in a rock crevice at the bottom of an alien ocean while being a jellyfish.’
He ate more. The hunger percentage ticked downward: 18%, 14%, 9%. Each mouthful brought a new flavor memory. Scallops. Mussels. That lobster bisque he’d splurged on after his first and only promotion. The flavors were ghosts, echoes, barely there but they were real. Or at least, his brain was making them real.
’This is actually... not bad.’
[HUNGER STATUS: 5% — Satiated]
He drifted back from the crevice entrance, his body feeling fuller, warmer, more solid. The wound scars on his bell had faded to near-invisibility. His HP bar sat comfortably full. His MP was slowly climbing.
And for the first time in either of his lives, Gray Ashford felt something unexpected.
Contentment.
’Okay. I can d—’
His thoughts were interrupted by a flicker of movement outside the crevice.
Gray’s bell tensed. He dimmed his bioluminescence as much as the passive skill would allow and edged toward the entrance. His tentacles extended, reading the water.
There. Just beyond the boulders. A cluster of small, skittering shapes moving across the rocky slope. They were maybe three inches long, their bodies segmented and curved like commas. Tiny legs worked frantically beneath translucent carapaces. Their eyes glowed with a faint red phosphorescence in the dark.
Gray’s first instinct was to pulse backward and hide.
’What the hell are those? They look like shrimp designed by someone who hates sleep.’
But then he paused. He’d seen horror movies. He’d played survival games. Things that looked creepy weren’t always dangerous. Sometimes they were just... creepy.
’System. Identify.’
A window materialized beside the nearest creature.
[GLOWCARAPACE SHRIMP]
Level: 1
HP: 8 / 8
MP: 2 / 2
« Analysis »
A small crustacean commonly found in rocky mid-depth environments. Possesses a fragile exoskeleton and small pincers used primarily for scavenging rather than combat. Its bioluminescent eyes are used to detect predators and communicate with others of its kind. Highly social. Will flee when threatened, but may swarm if provoked in large numbers.
Threat Level: Minimal (Individually)
Gray read the analysis. Then read it again.
’Level 1.’
He looked at the shrimp. Then at his own status. Level 3. HP 30. Two offensive skills. Two saved skill points. And these things were Level 1 with 8 HP.
’Level ONE. That’s... that’s lower than me.’
The shrimp skittered across the rocks, oblivious to the translucent predator watching them from the crevice. There were dozens of them, a whole colony crawling over each other in their frantic, insectoid way. Their tiny pincers clicked and clacked as they picked at the barnacles and moss.
’They’re level 1,’ Gray repeated, the thought warming him from bell to tentacle tip. ’And my Nematocyst Sting does 2-4 damage. That’s a two-hit kill. Three hits at most.’
He watched a straggler separate from the main group, skittering close to the crevice entrance. Its red eyes pulsed as it probed the rock with its tiny claws.
The shrimp colony spread across the boulders like a living carpet. At least thirty individuals, maybe more. Each one worth experience. Each one a stepping stone toward Level 10.
His tentacles twitched with anticipation.
’This is it. This is my grinding spot. Low-level mobs, safe distance from my shelter, minimal threat individually. It’s like the game developers put a starter zone right outside my door.’
He remembered the minnow. The way it had bitten him. The way the swarm had nearly torn him apart. He couldn’t afford to be reckless. Even level 1 creatures could be dangerous if he was stupid about it.