24 Weak

Hah.

Spiders are terrifying.

What even was that?

I truly felt the horror of sheer numbers.

Ah, I'm exhausted.

My yellow gauge indicating Explosive Speed still active, I kept running—my legs are trembling.

I'll rest for today.

I glance back once more to confirm the spider swarm isn’t following.

Good. None.

I stretch threads across the area, constructing a makeshift shelter.

The net barrier forms. Relief floods in. My body collapses instantly.

Ah. That was a light trauma.

Even if each one is weak, the sheer quantity makes them threatening.

There’s nothing you can do against a wave attack from that many spiders.

And they’re paralyzed-type.

One bite, and you’re paralyzed. That’s all it takes.

There is nothing left but to wait as they slowly consume the body.

The thought alone is terrifying.

I should have considered why so many centipedes were in that area.

No—better yet, I should have considered why no other monsters were present.

Centipedes are weak individually.

That much food available, yet no other predators—monsters—were here. Now that I think about it, that is suspicious.

It’s not impossible they avoided it due to paralysis, but in a dungeon saturated with poisonous creatures, that explanation feels thin.

Either the other monsters knew the centipedes were swarming, or they entered unaware and became prey.

Given my speed, barely escaping was possible. Other monsters likely couldn’t have fled in time.

Escaping was impossible—caught, bitten, paralyzed, then swarmed by a mass of centipedes…

Terrible. Terrible.

Even weak monsters have countermeasures suited to their strength.

I may lack raw combat ability, but by building nests and setting traps, I can defeat monsters far superior in rank.

Never underestimate the weak, that’s the lesson.

This experience served as a lesson.

Regardless, I survived unharmed. And it’s true—I enjoyed myself thoroughly against the centipedes.

Thanks to that, leveling up became significantly easier.

Ah, speaking of which.

The mass鉴定 of the centipede horde raised my鉴定 level.

A case of turning injury into gain?

For now, I’ll recheck my鉴定 results, which are always displayed.

There was no time to check such things while being chased by the Gajei.

Small Lassartact Lvl 7 Name: None

Status: Weak

What do you mean "Status: Weak"!?

Too imprecise!

Moreover, weak—no, I knew that already, but...

Can't you phrase it a bit more delicately?

If the鉴定 result says I'm weak, doesn't that mean I've been proven weak by world standards?

Huh.

Wilt away—.

No—wasn’t I just thinking a moment ago that even a weak opponent cannot be taken lightly?

I have this thread.

Even if the body weakens, victory is not guaranteed—defeat remains possible, yet not inevitable, as long as this thread endures.

In truth, when viewed overall, I can't really be said to be weak, can I?

Somewhat unbalanced, but powerful when activated, I suppose?

A trap of spider silk, an ambush for first strike, then a venomous bite when movement is impossible.

Hmm.

Even I have to admit that's fairly ruthless.

It's amusing, really—when faced head-on, openly, this strategy collapses instantly.

The key is how much you can fight within your own field.

Don't let the opponent set the pace. Force only your strengths upon them.

Of course, if that were always possible, I wouldn't be so tired.

Huh. Tired. Time to sleep.

Awake.

Still not fully recovered.

Yet I awoke suddenly.

What is this sensation?

Can't explain it. But something's wrong.

Hastily rise. Add more silk to the makeshift home.

Then, the source of the dread becomes clear.

『Failed to鉴定 status of Elrobaladraad LV9』

A large serpent.

The thickness of its body could easily swallow a person whole. Its length exceeded ten meters.

Clearly powerful.

And it was LV9.

The first time encountering a monster with a higher level than my own.

Previously, the highest monster level I had faced was four.

Now, it had jumped abruptly to nine.

Clearly superior in species.

Higher in level.

A direct confrontation would yield no victory.

Cold sweat poured inside.

Not a frog stared down by a snake, but a spider.

I forced my tense body to move, barely.

Stepping back slowly, creating distance from the serpent.

The serpent would not allow it.

It charged forward without hesitation, ignoring the net between us.

Of course, its body became entangled in the net.

Yet it writhed violently, tearing the threads apart by force.

I turned and fled, as fast as a startled hare.

The escape from the net’s exit and the snake’s assault on the first net—through which I had just fled—occurred nearly simultaneously.

Instinct screamed to run.

I did not run.

I saw.

The snake was entangled in the net.

It could tear the threads apart, but could not fully remove them.

Now, the snake’s body bore both intact net segments and forcibly breached sections that had adhered to its form, intricately woven together.

It can be done!

This is my field.

I latched onto the writhing body of the snake.

As I bit down, I continuously ejected additional threads from my rear.

Pierced through the tough scales. Imprinted the fangs deep into its body!

The snake convulsed violently from the poison injection.

Struggling violently despite being bound by thread.

My body is slammed repeatedly into the ground and walls, but I cling with willpower and resolve!

The yellow stamina gauge diminishes.

Each impact reduces the green health gauge.

In addition, every thread deployment depletes the red total stamina gauge.

Once the red gauge is exhausted, thread emission will likely cease.

At that point, breaking free from the restraints will be only a matter of time.

Before that happens, I must defeat this serpent.

I bite without thought, spitting thread without pause.

The serpent's resistance gradually weakens.

When the yellow gauge has long been depleted and the red gauge falls below one-tenth, the serpent finally ceases movement.

Weakness leads to complacency. That is how this happens.