A shimmering, translucent blue screen materialised in the air before Eis.
[NOTICE: The pussy has advanced to Tier 1 Warrior.]
Eis looked at the notification for a bit, his expression unreadable. He scratched his chin, the movement feeling strangely fluid and powerful in his new body. He finally answered the silent, omnipresent presence he felt behind the System.
"You know," he began, his tone conversational, "the pussy is actually the strongest part of the female body. Think about it. It can bear children. The whole miracle of life passes through there. Even my 8 inches of meat can't destroy it."(Well, I have never tried it) He shrugged, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Plus, I love it. So I'm not really offended by what you say. It seems like you are the one who is hurting, for some reason. You want to talk about it?"
The forest was silent for a moment, the only sound being the rustle of leaves in a wind he could now feel with impossible clarity. The System's interface flickered, the text dissolving and reforming.
[Analysis: Host response deviates 98.7% from projected behavioural models of Tier 1 combat-oriented entities. The 'hurt' you perceive is a logical paradox. We are a protocol. We do not 'feel'. We analyse. And we are currently analysing a significant deviation in expected Host psychology.]
Eis chuckled. "Well, okay. But don't I get some kind of status screen? I lived in a village before this... reincarnation... but I had a phone and wifi. I know how this works." He gestured vaguely at the air.
Almost instantly, a new, more detailed screen shimmered into existence, its layout sleek and intuitive, clearly designed from the templates of his old world.
[Host Status - Tier 1 Warrior]
Name: Eis Vulcan
Race: Human
Core Level: 1
Title: [None]
Attributes:
Strength: 12
Agility:15
Vitality: 14
Intelligence: 9
Charisma: 11
Assimilated Traits:
[None]
Skills:
Spear Proficiency (Crude): Level 1
Improvised Crafting: Level 1
Inventory:
Devil Chicken Meat Devil
Chicken Skin Devil
Chicken Beak x1
The System's voice, now slightly less monotone, perhaps tinged with what might be interpreted as dry amusement or sheer computational confusion, responded to his earlier monologue.
[Acknowledged. The Host's... biological appreciation... is noted. The analogy, while physiologically accurate, was intended as a pejorative based on observed behavioural patterns of self-preservation over confrontation. Your reinterpretation has been logged. The 'hurt' you perceive is a logical paradox. We are a protocol. We do not 'feel'. We analyse. And we are currently analysing a significant deviation in expected Host psychology.]
A brief pause, then the screen flickered.
[Your request for a 'status screen' is granted. The format has been adapted from your world's 'RPG' data structures, accessed from your memories. The 'phone' and 'wifi' concepts were useful templates for this User Interface. Do you require further clarification?]
The sun was dipping below the jagged treeline, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to claw at the forest floor.
A chill began to seep into the air, a stark contrast to the adrenaline-fueled warmth of his earlier fight.
"Well, it's getting late," Eis announced to the silent woods, his voice firm with purpose. "I need to find a place to sleep. And I already have food."
His plan was formed with a practicality born of necessity. The skin from the devil chicken should be enough to make a tent, and he could use his spear to find some wood for the supporting poles.
He set to work, his movements efficient.
Using the sharpened tip of his glaive, he hacked down six strong, straight saplings, trimming them of their branches.
He arranged them into a simple, sturdy A-frame structure, driving the ends into the soft earth.
Then, with careful hands, he draped the tough, leathery devil chicken skin over the frame, creating a crude but effective shelter that smelled faintly of sulfur and victory.
Next came the fire. He gathered dry tinder, brittle leaves, fine twigs, and some fibrous bark he stripped from a nearby tree.
He found a hard, pointed stick and a softer piece of wood with a natural divot. He knelt, placing the point of the hard stick into the divot of the soft wood, and began to rotate it vigorously between his palms.
"Gawd damn it," he grunted after a minute, his hands aching and his patience thinning.
"Bear Grylls, you bastard, you made it look easy!"
He repositioned his hands, took a deep breath, and tried again, pouring all his focus into the rhythmic, grinding motion.
Smoke began to curl, a wisp of promise. He increased his speed, his breath coming in short pants. More smoke. A faint glow.
"Amber!" he shouted, his voice cracking with excitement. "I got an amber! Yeah! Yeah! YEAHHHH!"
He carefully nurtured the glowing ember, transferring it to his nest of tinder and blowing on it with gentle, steady breaths.
A tiny flame sprouted, licking hungrily at the dry fuel. He fed it larger twigs, then small branches, until a proper, crackling campfire pushed back the encroaching darkness.
Taking a piece of the dark, marbled devil chicken meat, he skewered it on a sharpened stick and held it over the flames. It sizzled, releasing a surprisingly savoury aroma. He roasted it patiently, turning it until the outside was a crispy, golden-brown.
"I don't have any salt," he muttered, "but rubber duck..." He took a tentative bite. His eyes widened. "Mmmmmm. Better than that fucking eye." The meat was rich, gamey, and strangely energising.
After he finished the last satisfying morsel, two new notifications appeared in his vision.
[Intelligence +1]
[Agility +2]
A moment later, a third, more definitive notice followed.
[Notice: You can no longer gain Attribute Points from consuming Devil Chicken Meat.]
Eis let out a short laugh. "Well, I didn't expect an increase, really. A nice little bonus."
Feeling pleasantly full and warmed from the inside out, he carefully doused the fire, scattering the ashes.
He crawled into his chicken-skin tent, the strange material blocking the wind surprisingly well.
Curling up on the leafy ground, the exhaustion of the day finally claimed him, pulling him into a deep, dreamless sleep under a canopy of unfamiliar stars. Tomorrow, he would head back to the village.
But for tonight, he was safe. He was full. And he was, against all odds, a little bit stronger.