Searching for Food

When Rowan woke up again, he could feel the temperature around him had dropped. His stomach was hungry, but the eggshell was already gone. It was baffling that an eggshell twice his size had only lasted for two meals; he had no idea where it had all gone.

From this, he could also infer that he had quite the appetite. While being able to eat was a blessing, it wasn't good news for him.

The surface was a desert, and he had yet to secure a food source; he might just starve to death in a few days.

Thinking of this, a sense of urgency took hold. He couldn't just become a starving ghost.

And so, sensing the direction of the surface, he used all six limbs to crawl his way up.

The surrounding temperature grew colder and colder. Rowan even suspected he might have crawled in the wrong direction, but his antennae and leg hairs told him he was on the right path, so he had to grit his teeth and keep moving. Oh, his scalp was already hard—and very black.

The moment he crawled out of the grit, he was stunned. The yellow sand all around had vanished, replaced by a layer of silver frost covering the earth. If the geology along the way hadn't remained consistent, he would have thought he'd transmigrated again.

What kind of place is this? The diurnal temperature variation is massive. It should have been night, and while the light was much weaker, miraculously, he could see five or six meters ahead—a significant improvement over last time. Am I a nocturnal insect? Rowan felt uncertain.

Even with his enhanced vision, he still couldn't make out what the cold light source in the sky looked like. However, he could sense their quantity.

Two! There were actually two light sources in the sky!

During the day, there had only been one, and he had held onto the possibility of being transported back to his homeland. Now, that possibility was thoroughly extinguished.

Based on his limited astronomical knowledge, he could conclude that there were at least two moons hanging in the sky.

However, he quickly accepted reality. He had already turned into an insect; what was one extra moon in the sky? He had suffered too many shocks over the past two days and had become somewhat immune to them.

The choice of three had become a choice of two. He only hoped he wouldn't transmigrate into that world of wizards; the danger level there was too high, and it clearly wasn't a place for a small bug like him.

Of course, his main task now was to fill his stomach; otherwise, he might not live long enough to figure out where he was.

He didn't see any food for the moment, but there was a layer of frost on the ground, so Rowan decided to drink his fill of water first.

His mouthparts were somewhat long, with a mushroom-shaped tip that flattened into a disc and pressed against the ice. The small teeth hidden within quickly pierced and scraped the surface, shaving off tiny fragments that were then sucked into his belly with the help of his tongue.

Rowan didn't know what he looked like while eating, and he didn't want to know; he simply used these organs by instinct. Besides, the fact that an insect had a tongue was truly ghostly; he hadn't known that before becoming a bug.

After sucking for a long time, only a shallow depression had appeared in the ice, showing how poor his feeding efficiency was. But he had no other choice and had to keep going.

The cold liquid flowed into his belly, making his whole body feel somewhat stiff. His gradually sluggish consciousness recalled his time as a human, when all those annoying mosquitoes and flies would disappear during the winter.

It was then he realized he had also become an insect. Going out to frolic and drinking iced beverages in such cold weather—wouldn't he just end up killing himself?

The fright brought him back to his senses, and he hurriedly crawled back along the path he had come.

This place was way too damn dangerous. It was too hot during the day and too cold at night—so when was he supposed to find food? He had intended to look around a bit after getting his fill of water, but now he had to give up on that.

Back deep underground, Rowan, who hadn't been awake for long, didn't want to keep resting. Besides, there was no time for rest; he had to find a food source as soon as possible.

Since the surface was a no-go, he would look underground. His talent for digging was quite extraordinary; wouldn't it be a waste not to make good use of it?

He acted on his thoughts immediately. Rowan picked a direction at random and buried his head to start digging.

The two antennae on his head twitched constantly. While bringing him some novel experiences, they also transmitted a wealth of information; they seemed to function as both nose and ears, capable of smelling scents and hearing sounds.

As he moved forward, his antennae suddenly caught a strange scent from the lower left. Strange meant unknown, and it could very well mean food. Rowan grew excited and accelerated his digging in that direction.

As the distance closed, the strange scent grew stronger, but Rowan gradually slowed his pace.

He was out to find food, not to deliver takeout.

He was currently small and thin, not even as big as a large green-headed fly, and having just been "born," he hadn't learned any insect combat skills. If he ran into anything alive that could fight back, he figured he wouldn't be able to win, so he had to plan before acting and proceed with caution.

Striving to integrate with his insect instincts, Rowan slowly raised not just the fine hairs on his legs, but the fuzz all over his body.

The various vibrations coming from the front left were perceived by his body without a single detail missed, slowly converging into information sent to his brain. After his brain integrated and analyzed it, he reached a conclusion.

There was a living creature ahead, numbering about three or four. They were slow-moving and smaller than him. He could sneak over to take a look. If something felt wrong, he would run immediately. There were no acquaintances here, so he didn't have to worry about losing face.

Carefully scraping at the sand in front of him, Rowan found his digging technique somewhat ill-suited for this. His small front claws were great at scraping grit, but they were a bit inadequate for the soil deep underground.

Fortunately, he hadn't reached the solid soil layer yet; it was just a half-sand, half-dirt structure, so he was only slightly slower.

Moreover, the sand and soil here provided better support. By digging and compressing it repeatedly, he created a tunnel and then transported the excavated dirt to the upper sand layer.

In a short while, he had dug a tunnel just wide enough for his body to pass through, so he could escape more quickly if he encountered danger.

As he got closer to his target, Rowan's movements became increasingly gentle, while his body grew more tense. Suddenly, as the dirt in front was pushed aside, a round, chubby, transparent White Worm rolled out in front of him.

Its body was segmented, with over a dozen segments, yet it only had three pairs of short, stubby limbs on the front segments and a small yellow head. What Rowan found unacceptable was that this thing actually possessed a pair of fierce, large mandibles.

The little thing was about the same size as Rowan, just a tiny bit smaller. Suddenly dragged out from the dirt, it kept curling and stretching its body, emitting a faint hissing sound from its mouth in hopes of scaring Rowan away.

Looking at the White Worm that struggled even to turn over in the dirt, Rowan stopped panicking. His courage bolstered, he let out a cold, mocking laugh in his heart.

"You little runt, don't think just because you grew a pair of big teeth that I'm afraid of you!"