5 What a thing to say — New Residence Arc

Escape from this dungeon has been abandoned.

Wandering aimlessly, an unexpected encounter revealed only a dead-end future.

Whether monster or human, all are equally formidable adversaries to me now.

Formidable adversary — do not interpret this as rival, or comrade, or anything else.

This is a genuine threat to life.

Fortunately, or perhaps not, the monsters appearing in this narrow passage do not seem to be particularly swift.

Otherwise, I wouldn't have escaped.

My spider form is fairly quick.

If speed alone is considered, I may even surpass my previous life.

…Sorry.

I exaggerated.

Actually, my overall physical capabilities — not just speed — are all superior to my past life, yes.

To be honest, before reincarnating, I was the type who thought, "Exercise? What’s that?" — a complete indoor dweller.

Wild spiders are naturally more agile—there's no question about it.

My only athletic ability worth boasting about is the thumb movement I trained in a game.

Never mind my clumsiness in the previous life.

In essence, fleeing is something one can manage.

But one cannot keep fleeing forever.

Being caught in a pincer movement is a loss. Even if I haven’t encountered it, nothing would be strange about someone faster than me already being in motion.

Moreover, it is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the growing emptiness in my stomach.

A hungry man cannot fight.

It’s fine if we can’t fight, but we might actually starve to death like this.

Then, there it is.

Consider it.

Q: What is a spider's primary food source?

A— another insect.

Ouf...

That's right, isn't it—.

That’s what it means to be full.

Moreover, given the size of this world I inhabit—something impossible on Earth—I don’t think prey is limited to insects.

Specifically, other creatures, or worse, humans—though I’d rather not think about that.

In general, my siblings began cannibalism immediately after birth.

A giant spider-like creature ate its young without hesitation. My species seems to treat all life except itself as potential prey.

In fact, in a place like this cave, there are no other options.

What does that deer-like monster in the large passage eat?

Perhaps it pretends to be herbivorous, but is actually carnivorous.

Regardless, pondering it won’t change anything.

Right now, I must focus on my own survival.

Still, hunger cannot be ignored.

If I remain like this, starvation is certain.

If I wish to avoid that, I must eat anything—even the most repulsive.

I must accept that.

Very well, resolve is set. But what, exactly, am I to eat?

Of course, nothing edible is within reach.

If nothing is available, I must acquire it.

How?

Frankly, the probability of me defeating a monster in combat is effectively zero.

The corridor I am in now is significantly narrower than the large passage I began in.

Therefore, there are no monsters of the sort that would be impossible—such as giant spiders or dragon-like entities—present here.

The largest creatures likely to appear are roughly human-sized.

Even then, defeating one is unlikely.

Why? Because I have never fought in real combat.

In a game, I would be capable.

But fighting in reality is different from gameplay.

Two-dimensional and three-dimensional are not the same.

In truth, when the moment comes that fighting is unavoidable, one cannot afford to be bound by formality.

Her stomach was empty, but not to the point of crisis.

Then, here, one should secure sustenance as a spider would—by spider's own method.

Spiders, of course, are all about silk!

Spiders construct their webs using specialized, adhesive silk and capture prey with them.

The terrain of a cave—nice choice, I think.

The threads can be stretched across the entire area, after all.

If that is settled, let us begin constructing my new residence.

First, draw out the thread.

The part around the buttocks—should have thread emerging from there. Let me try.

Just as I thought, threads were already emerging.

Hm?

I don’t recall ever producing something like this.

Moreover, this extends far ahead—continuously.

Could it be... I’ve been walking around with this all along?

Ugh—this is embarrassing.

It’s like I didn’t notice I was in (self-regulation mode) and just… did it anyway.

Hmm.

What should I do with this thread?

It might be useful for something. I’ll just cut it at the base and leave it as-is for now.

Restarting nest construction!

I’ve confirmed I can produce thread.

Now I just need to stretch it neatly across the cave walls.

I’ve always considered myself dexterous. Can I do this well?

There was a time when I thought I could.

I look at the completed web and feel satisfaction.

A flawless spider’s web stretches across the cave passage, sealing it off.

Huh—so this is instinct, is it?

Once I started, my body moved on its own. Before I knew it, the web was done.

But I only completed the lower half.

The upper half is constructed approximately one meter away from the lower half's mesh.

Why did you do something like this?

The escape route is predetermined, isn't it?

I am located at a T-junction intersection.

Netting was strung across each passage, sealing the area off.

But if I seal it completely, my own escape route will vanish.

There may be a fierce one who breaks through my net, though I doubt it.

Therefore, in case of emergency, a deliberate opening was left to allow for escape.

Insects without wisdom will be caught in the net laid beneath.

If flying through the sky, one will be caught in the net above.

I was surrounded on three sides by nets, ensuring safety, and a means of escape was prepared in case of emergency.

The ideal reclusive space has been completed!

How splendid my home is.