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Chapter 15: Patience is Key!

  Rena

  At last!

  I’ve been in this dungeon for weeks, slowly building up strength.

  And after another seven hours of suffering from boredom, I’ve managed to catch some big fish!

  Not just the (rare occurrence of the) usual one or two, but a whole entire brigade of baby roaches!

  …Well, eight to be exact. That’s a lot proportionately, though! Sure, a flock of eight might not have been a good haul before, but now that the Queen has increased security and started a game of cat-and-mouse, eight is a lot!

  Being careful not to stray too close to the sub nest, I continue fake-limping around. C’mon! Notice me!

  After a painful, almost unbearable half-minute of awkward hopping that I’m definitely unaccustomed to, I finally catch the curiosity of the roaches. They look at me before furtively checking the safety of the ring formed by the Soldiers. And a cacophony of clicks and screeching ensue.

  "NONONONO!" I half whisper, half scream, "KEEP QUIET! DON'T ATTRACT ANY ATTENTION!"

  The roaches pipe down, to my surprise, by at least two dozen decibels before (in)discreetly discussing something amongst themselves. And then a wave of heads ripple towards me.

  Malicious intent? Definitely there. But they still seem reluctant to attack me.

  Okay, time to increase the effectiveness of my lure technique by a notch! I need these guys to think that they stand a chance against me, or they might retreat and call for backup. And I really don’t need an entire stampede of roaches chasing me around. Especially not those soldier roaches.

  Hopefully these baby roaches get cocky and chase after me without backing up.

  I continue limping in circles, before ‘tripping’ down…

  ..Nope, the roaches aren’t buying it. Still as hesitant as ever. What?

  Do I smell like dead roaches or something…?

  Ugh, I really don’t wanna lose this catch of eight roaches! I can’t just grab them away with force, since they’ll start screaming for help for sure. Not this close to the nest, no.

  As I slowly pace away in retreat, I ‘trip’ and ‘tumble’ on the floor once more before ‘struggling’ to get up while making those weird whining noises you hear animal wranglers make.

  …Arrg! Dammit, these roaches aren’t buying it! I guess I’ll go a bit overboard, since I really don’t want to lose this catch.

  Using one of my daggers, I make a shallow incision on my forearm. The cut instantly forms and liquid red starts oozing out.

  Shit, that actually stings like hell!

  …Seriously? Why aren’t these roaches buying it yet? I’ve fumbled and flopped around like a fool, and I’ve even cut my own arm!

  I stab even deeper into the skin.

  GYAHAH! Holy crap, that hurts!!

  This time, ruby blood bursts out of my arm as if a floodgate were burst.

  And my face contorts with morbid pain. “Oops. Think I hit an artery” is what I probably would have said, but… It actually hurts so much!

  I- I can heal later! I’ve got [Reparation]!

  The roaches take note of my baneful suffering and one of them finally inches closer. The other seven follow in unison.

  Yes!

  I steadily limp away from the nest with a face contort of pain. I just want to kill all the roaches right now and quickly treat my reckless and impulsive cut, but I have to get a safe distance away from the nest. I can’t risk facing a Soldier.

  Steadily stumbling away, I eventually get a safe distance from the nest. It should be safe now. I hurriedly turn around and face the roaches with a murderous gleam. Now’s not the time to hold back! I wanna get this over and treat my wound!

  I dash forwards. I grip my daggers tightly in my hands and slash at the roaches adjacent to me. The momentum from my run-up, paired along with the momentum from the roaches still chasing me, allows me to cut through two roaches at once.

  The other six roaches instantly shoot up on high alert and scatter around me.

  Dammit, stop stalling for time! I’m dying here!

  See?! Even the system agrees with me!

  Exploiting the break in formation, I tackle the remaining roaches one-on-one. And after what felt like an eternity of carpet burns on my arm but was probably less than ten minutes, eight lifeless roaches lie beside me.

  I get to work without any delay, and remove the thin membrane coating a roach’s shell, before wrapping it along my injured arm. The pain subsides a bit. Not anything marginal, but still noteworthy.

  Whew, these roaches have pretty convenient anatomy! It’s almost like their bodies were made to get scavenged and looted…

  That aside, today I made decent progress. [Pain Resistance] levelled up and all… except, that was more of a cause because of me rather than the roaches. I am never inflicting self-harm on myself ever again. Maybe a few shallow cuts here and there to bait out the roaches, but never again will I cause a deep cut.

  Honestly, I should just find another sub nest to raid. There are four of them, after all. And the security on this sub nest is too tight for my liking. No baby roaches wander around the tunnels either, since they’re huddled up together.

  Though, this leads to another major issue: how, and where will I find other sub nests?

  I simply stumbled upon this one through sheer luck, and I have my doubts about such an event occurring again. I feel like if I stray too far away in search of another sub nest, I’ll get lost and never find my way back.

  Heck, for all I know, I could end up stuck here for eternity if I don’t find and kill the dungeon boss!

  …Yeah. I’ll admit it: I’m too chicken to venture out too far.

  I think I’ll stay comfortable near this nest.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  I mean, life here isn’t that bad. Mostly since I’ve found a bunch of ways to entertain myself. Ahh, the beautiful life of solitude…! Maybe I should become a paragon of mental fortitude?

  …

  I’m bored. I’ve been staving out that boredom, but I don’t think I can handle it much longer. There are only so many times you can T-pose on dead roaches before it gets old.

  But I’m certainly not strong enough to clear this dungeon. No, not as I am now. Fighting significantly weaker opponents for minute amounts of experience within my metaphorical safety net won’t help me power up at breakneck speeds.

  I’ve already figured out that fighting marginally stronger opponents and coming out on top is the fastest way to progress.

  Whenever I fought the roaches that gave me a hard time and a run for my money, I would always leap wonder away level wise.

  …

  I think I’m ready to fight a Soldier

  …

  Buuut, where do I find one?

  I know that there’s one soldier ant out there hunting for me, so should I shout and squall until I catch its attention?

  There isn’t much else available for me to pick from, so I guess I’ll scream like those crackhead hobos?

  I yell in my most disfigured, gruntled voice at the top of my lungs… only to end up in a coughing fit seconds later. However, as my coughing begins to fade away, I hear a loud, ear-piercing screech. Not far from me either. And not from my rear, but from up front.

  Which means this newfound menace didn’t come directly from the nest. And a ‘screech’ wouldn’t be the most accurate word. More like a howl, for lack of a better word. But far, far more corrugated.

  And in front of me, stands a soldier roach. It stands tall, almost as if it had broad, muscular shoulders. It looks like the other soldier roach I encountered before—but with one main difference.

  It’s legs. The front ones are a bit shorter, and don’t have the serrated spikes common to most roaches. Alternatively; lean and profound. Like scythes. And those ‘missing’ spikes are instead sprawled across the roach’s back. Its exoskeleton is encrusted with jagged thorns, making it hard to even land a decent hit. It snarls at me, revealing an unsanctimonious set of horrid fangs.

  I gulp audibly.

  And I [Appraise] it.

  
  Unnamed

  Level: 2  Rank: D  Class: Guard>

  Just as I thought. Bad news.

  I can already tell that this guy is bad news. An aura of death perpetually looms over it. Excuse me, Mr. Roach, what are you exactly? The harbinger of Death?

  Its class is also different to the prior Soldier I encountered. The one I mentioned before—Guard. Probably one notch above Soldier.

  I have to face the facts. There is no way, no way in hell I can beat the Guard.

  I swallow my pride, turn back and pace away cautiously. But right at that moment, another stampede of baby roaches appear from the direction of the nest.

  Shit. Before, when I thought the roaches were contemplating on chasing me or not, they were actually informing the other roaches to set up an ambush trap for me?

  MOVE IT!

  I slash away, killing the baby roach advancing towards me.

  I keep on attacking. On and on and on. Wounds start to rupture around my body, and blood starts leaking out from the cut on my forearm. I just ignore the pain and force the adrenaline to mitigate it.

  I keep on slashing and stabbing, until I can make out an open path. Yes!

  I can break through the front and escape the Guard!

  I thrust my arm down at the final roach in front and ignore the ones gnawing at my sides. But right before my dagger connects and hits flesh, my arm goes flying. Literally.

  The sudden pang of excruciating pain causes me to moan out in agony.

  S-SHIT! I forgot about the guard!

  I feverishly look back in befuddlement. And the Guard greets me with a forbidding, minatory smirk, its scythe-like leg doused in vermillion liquid.

  I have to get away!

  I run. Against a beast like this, it's the only thing I can do.

  I can’t win. For sure.

  I scamper away, pushing and dicing the baby roaches obstructing my runway. I hear loud thuds resonating directly behind me. Stupid legs, move faster! Fuck fuck fuck!

  Fuck.

  If I keep on running like this, I’ll just run back to the nest, where even more adversaries will lie in wait to greet me. Wait… there was a fork in the road.

  Yes! I just have to keep on going forwards!

  I continue sprinting. Ignore the constant wobbling and lack of balance. Ignore the burning. Ignore the screaming of my lungs. Ignore the aching legs. Ignore all of it. NO! Don’t slow!

  The guard roach lurks right behind me. It doesn’t pace faster, nor does it jog slower, as if in perfect unison with my own speed…

  …Is the roach purposefully matching my own pace?

  The roach… i-is it really toying with my life?

  Life… it isn’t something you play with. Despite my hatred for these roaches, I still kill them all swiftly. I don’t sequester roaches for the fun of it, making them know that they have no hope of calling for backup. No, I do it as an act of insurance.

  Even I know the base value of life.

  But now isn’t the time to start talking crap with soliloquies. Suddenly talking about yourself is one of the top ten signs that you’re about to die. You know that, right?

  Clearly, even if I wanted to run and escape, it would come to no avail. This Guard definitely outspeeds me.

  I have to think rationally.

  I should use this egomaniac’s ego against it. I steadily slow down to a jogging pace to conserve energy. As expected, the roach does the same, and slows to match my current speed.

  And I continue jogging, making sure to keep a lookout for the landmark that I had set previously. I keep my current speed until I make out the faint smudge of the landmark I had put aside.

  It wasn’t really intended to be used as a landmark, but you don’t need to know about that. Soon, the figure of the other roach comes to view.

  I keep on scurrying away, but this time, I count the steps I take.

  One, two, three, four, FIVE.

  Now!

  I dive into a small corridor, slipping in without much effort. But the roach struggles to follow, the tight walls obstructing its path. The roach pushes at the walls, and manages to jam its front in—at the expense of having limited movement.

  Unable to bite freely in a confined area, the roach does all it can; swing its scythe-like legs at me and chomp at the empty air.

  Yet, that act in itself is capable of doing serious damage. Too bad you can’t hit me now, hahaha!

  The roach heaves at the earth.

  For a moment, a shiver runs down both my metaphorical spine and the corridor.

  And the Guard snarls at me once more, its putrid breath a mask wrapped around my face. I try to kick at the roach, but quickly discard the thought and retreat further inwards.

  And the scythe hacks downwards. I feel the air ripple in response. A light breeze of nasty roach breath gets me smack-bang in the nose.

  When was the last time this thing brushed its teeth?!

  Oops. Right, my life’s on the line.

  I scurry even further back, though I don’t get far before I feel a cool screen hinder me. Shit, I already hit the wall?!

  The Guard swings its legs again. I feel a shudder sprawl up my spine. Instinctively, I spasm backwards and kick my feet—except, I can’t go backwards any more.

  I watch wide-eyed in fear, unable to do anything but pray for the roach to miss.

  A lock of hair plummets to the ground. Long, strands of hair—cut.

  And I subconsciously release the bag of air I had held in my lungs, before gasping for another breath of air. I shudder as the putrid smell enters, yet I can’t stop feeling relieved.

  That was close. Too close.

  But the roach still missed.

  Who knows what would have happened if I got hit by the scythe just then? I’d probably be sliced into two pieces, cut perfectly in half.

  Why did I bring daggers? A spear would be much more helpful right now. If I wanna use my daggers, I need to get close to the damn Guard! Right now, I don’t want melee. I need some ranged means of offense!

  If only I salvaged some more makeshift weapons and stored them in my inventory…

  Well, I clearly can't get close to his guy.

  One step forward, and shiing!, head falls off, dead.

  What can I do?

  They say people think the most rationally in times of crisis. Do I believe that claim?

  Maybe. Why?

  Cause I just had a sudden burst of inspiration.

  Since the Guard is wider than it is tall, it has to slide in at an oblique angle. And even then, it can’t fully fit itself inside. Like mentioned before, the roach can only manage to cram in its front two legs—the ones that end in scythe-like figures.

  And in such a cramped space, the roach’s movement is severely hindered. Whenever it stretches its legs out in an attempt to cut me up, it’s momentarily incapacitated from doing anything else.

  I slowly lurch forwards, carefully and steadily. I need to time this correctly, or else I’m a goner for sure. But… if I just stay here and do nothing but cower, I’m guaranteed to die. I’ll have a higher chance of survival this way.

  I stare intently at the scythe. Slowly, the roach raises it...

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