Fifty-one. Isn't it wonderful that we can now see the enemy's strength?

Crouched in the shadow of a rock, motionless.

『Elrodaznatch LV23

Status

HP: 786/818 (Green)

MP: 335/335 (Blue)

SP: 779/779 (Yellow)

: 723/781 (Red)

Status assessment failed』

It moves slowly, a short distance away from the rock where I am concealed.

What is that thing?

Hard to describe… like a giant fish with limbs… no, that’s not quite right.

Some vague, incomprehensible creature.

Well, what it is doesn’t matter much.

Actually, it does matter—but not in the immediate sense.

If it detects us, it’ll be bad.

But that’s not the important thing right now!

Yes—the assessment system has activated again!

Enemy status is visible!

Only HP, MP, and SP are displayed—but that’s still quite useful, isn’t it?

Success rate isn't high—only about once every three or four attempts—but knowing even partial enemy status is still significant.

Just the general values of HP, MP, and SP allow for a rough estimation of opponent strength.

Never target anomalies with obvious numerical discrepancies.

Tactical caution—life is precious.

Avoiding creatures passing nearby is also a rule.

Their stats are clearly wrong.

What is this? HP 818?

Even if you killed me twenty times, you’d still have change.

Inflation is excessive.

If a creature with that status looks so dull-witted, then earth dragons must have HP in the four-digit range.

Impossible.

Recent observations indicate that any monster exceeding level ten is inherently strong.

Level ten implies no further evolution—true upper-tier monsters, as they are commonly known.

Therefore, even if a monster is below level ten, if a member of the same species previously exceeded level ten, the general rule is to prioritize evasion.

Conversely, monsters that no one has observed surpassing level ten are usually weak.

What was shocking, however, was that even common pests I normally hunt had stats significantly higher than mine.

Some had HP values in the triple digits.

Seriously? You were that strong?

No chance of victory in direct confrontation then.

I’ll rely entirely on ambush.

That’s what I decided at that moment.

Yet, thinking about it, calling them “common pests” despite being above me in rank—there’s a contradiction.

A skill capable of rendering such a superior opponent completely immobile—this web thread is exceptionally powerful.

Without it, I wouldn’t be alive now.

Stats matter, but skills matter just as much.

If that’s the case, I’d want to figure out the opponent’s skill as soon as possible.

Knowing their skill would give a significant advantage in combat.

Me? Without my skill, I’m just fast—nothing more.

If they counter my web thread with fire, or neutralize my venomous fangs with antidote, I’d have no chance.

Oh.

Damn. Skill counter—really bad.

If they’re prepared that thoroughly, I’d be dead.

Though I don’t expect monsters to possess such cunning.

That’s exactly why weak monsters like me survive.

Knowledge really is important.

It’s the human’s greatest weapon, after all.

Hmm.

Humans…

How many humans have explored this dungeon, really?

I’ve only seen one in person—when they burned out my nest.

There were still traces of humans around that area, but after entering the labyrinth zone, I saw almost none.

Given it's called the world's largest labyrinth, perhaps exploration hasn't advanced much at all?

Considering it—while I can consume monsters, humans need food supplies.

A labyrinth this vast requires massive quantities of food to sustain exploration.

That alone is considerable effort. Then there's the constant need to fight monsters.

If humans had access to storage skills or magic—like item boxes that store objects in alternate space—the situation would change. But even then, the difficulty remains unchanged.

I suspect humans can only explore the upper levels—specific sections, at that.

That would explain why footprints disappeared mid-way.

The area where the footprints disappeared—was that the human limit?

Hmm?

Wait a moment?

Then, does that mean I was able to explore the area where those super-giant spiders and that clearly formidable horde of monsters were located?

Wait—can humans even reach that area?

Even with Mother there?

I can't believe it—can't defeat her?

No way.

If my assumptions are correct, that thing could stand toe-to-toe with a Earth Dragon.

Can't defeat it?

Impossible?

Then, if it weren't impossible, how strong would humans be?

Now I'm imagining something unpleasant.

If humans were truly strong enough to defeat Mother, then going outside the dungeon would be a bad idea.

No matter how hard I tried, I'd have no chance of survival.

It'd be better to just stay within this dungeon.

For now, the goal is to reach the upper levels.

Once we reach the upper levels, find a place where humans do not come.

No—first, perhaps take a risk and鉴定 human status?

Well, no need to rush.

We don’t even know if we’ll make it to the upper levels.