By the end of the test, Bai Chuan understood the extent of his current defenses and the attacking power of his claws. Don't underestimate them: it had taken eight-tenths of his strength to break through his own scales and snake skin.
One thing was clear: Bai Chuan's strength had now reached Strong LV2. That was no power one could dismiss lightly.
If his earlier guess was correct, LV3 was a power possessed only at the top of the pyramid. That meant LV2 was already enough to dominate an area.
This kind of strength was on par with that of a wild boar.
So he was doing pretty well.
At that moment, Bai Chuan stared intently at his wound, watching as blood continued to seep from it.
At first, it oozed steadily and slowly. Five minutes later, the flow began to ease, and the blood started to clot.
After ten minutes, it had stopped bleeding altogether, leaving only a blurry, raw wound.
Half an hour later, Bai Chuan began to feel an itching sensation around the wound.
Looking closely, he could just make out what seemed to be new flesh growing.
An hour later, the itching grew even more intense.
By then, though, Bai Chuan was starting to feel mentally exhausted. He had been staring at the wound with total concentration for too long.
His mind was reaching its limit.
He checked the approximate time, then burrowed down and went to sleep.
The next day, when he awoke,
he found that the wound had almost completely healed. Only a pale mark and the scales that had yet to grow back showed what he had done the day before.
Aside from that, he felt a little hungrier than usual.
Come to think of it, the more he evolved, the less he seemed like a snake.
A normal snake's feeding cycle had nothing to do with his own. He wondered whether, if things continued this way, he would still hibernate like the other snakes this winter.
Looking at the weather, which had already turned somewhat cool, Bai Chuan found himself thinking about it.
Then he glanced at the wound, where the scales had yet to grow back completely, and decided he should wait a little longer.
To do a good job, one must first sharpen one's tools. There was no need to rush this. He had waited this long already; he didn't need to force it now.
Three days later, as night began to fall,
Bai Chuan was in peak condition. After eating his fill and drinking his fill, he left the cave he had called home for half a year.
He headed north, gliding along the ground.
Before long, he reached the broad riverbank once more. He didn't go into the water, merely following the bank upstream.
As he went, his keen, sharp eyes kept sweeping over the banks and the river's surface, focusing on the murkier patches of water.
Although the darkness dulled the eyesight of his eagle eyes, he still had Heat Sensing Vision.
Together, the two allowed him to sense every living, warm-blooded creature within a radius of twenty or thirty meters.
His stare was focused, brazen, and domineering, scaring the wits out of the animals sneaking down to drink in the night.
But he paid them no mind. He was only looking for his target.
And what was he looking for?
There could be no doubt: electric eels!
His abilities had reached a bottleneck. It was no longer like when he had been especially weak, when any ability could help him.
Back then, abilities had been easy to obtain.
But now, the abilities that could make a major difference to him were almost all found in creatures of incredible strength.
If he wanted to acquire one, he would inevitably have to fight. And once a fight broke out, even he couldn't guarantee a win—not by a long shot. There was a good chance they would both die, or that he would die alone.
Of course, powerful abilities could be found in weak creatures, too. But either those creatures were too hard to find, or he had no way to acquire their abilities.
Only now did he realize that the creatures he could easily take down in the past had no abilities that could help him at all.
He was in an awkward position: not strong enough to be the best, but better than the rest.
Was he strong? He certainly was—strong enough to easily take down his former self, at least.
But when it came to tigers, brown bears, and the like, he likely wouldn't measure up.
That left him somewhat troubled.
That was when the electric eel came to mind.
Electric eels were indeed powerful, but after thinking it over carefully, Bai Chuan realized that if he prepared thoroughly, he could still take one down.
There had been a time when he wouldn't have dared even think of taking on an electric eel.
Sometimes, after rationally assessing the situation, he would even choose to avoid one.
No matter how much he coveted its ability, he hadn't dared attack it.
Now, he was actively searching for one, with a clear purpose.
Had he gotten cocky?
No. He had simply grown stronger, and believed he had a good chance of taking down an electric eel.
In his previous life, he had once been especially curious about electric eels, and had looked into these unusual creatures.
Electric eels were freshwater fish that could unleash powerful bursts of electricity. Their bodies were long and thick, and the largest could reach 2.5 meters. They were active at night and hunted small fish.
They also liked to stay in shallow ponds or along murky banks. A casual strike could release 650 volts of electricity, and their maximum discharge could reach as high as 800 volts.
Don't look down on 800 volts just because that was their maximum. That was already close to the high-voltage range defined in the country he had lived in during his previous life: 1,000 volts.
In some industrial settings, even that voltage would already be considered high voltage.
And the human body's safe voltage was only ≤36 volts. Even 220 volts could easily electrocute someone to death.
So just imagine how dangerous 650 or 800 volts could be.
As long as the current wasn't pitifully weak, a human struck by that level of voltage would almost certainly die.
If he acquired this ability, he would finally possess a true superweapon, an ability as powerful as a trump card.
Surely, by then, there wouldn't be any creature capable of withstanding his attacks.
Once his venomous fangs sank in, electric current and venom would strike together. His opponent would be left helpless, paralyzed and convulsing, watching its death draw near.
But all of that depended on whether he could take down an electric eel.
What gave him such confidence?
Bai Chuan glanced at his newly grown, keratin-covered claws and smiled without a word.
His sharp claws were sheathed in highly insulating keratin. He could breathe underwater, and he also had powerful regenerative abilities.
He was confident he could take down an electric eel.
Why hadn't he dared before?
Because he hadn't dared to bite. A snake's only means of attack was its mouth, and the mouth was too close to the brain. Bai Chuan hadn't dared risk it.
He also hadn't had the ability to breathe underwater back then. If he accidentally got knocked unconscious while fighting an electric eel, wouldn't he suffocate underwater?
Don't think that's a joke. Many powerful animals that had the misfortune of being killed by electric eels had died in exactly that humiliating way.
Before you continue