White Worm

Reality proved that even though Rowan wasn't afraid of the White Worm, his current weapons and equipment still couldn't do anything to it.

The White Worm's skin looked delicate and transparent, as if it would burst at the slightest poke, but it was actually incredibly tough—at least against Rowan at this point. His legs, little claws, and lapping mouthparts were all useless against it.

At that moment, he envied the White Worm's pair of huge teeth.

He watched the fat White Worm keep rolling around, as if taunting him: Come on, come on! Let's see what you can do to me!

Rowan was getting furious. Back when he was still human, he could have popped the White Worm with a gentle pinch between two fingers. He wouldn't have had to put up with this. But then he thought about how disgusting that would be and quickly shoved the idea out of his mind.

Suddenly, a thought struck him. The White Worm being here meant there was food nearby. Otherwise, it wouldn't be so lively.

"Just you wait. I'll eat all your food and starve you to death. Let's see how smug you are then." Rowan glared viciously at the White Worm.

Then he ignored the rolling White Worm and continued digging.

Before long, he dug up several more of the White Worm's siblings. This made Rowan even more unhappy. Why were other bugs social, while he was a lone bug?

After shoving the annoying bugs aside, the sand fell away, revealing the food they had been gathered around.

A section of some unknown plant's root stretched out from the soil. Its grayish-brown surface had several fresh wounds. Judging by their hind legs, Rowan guessed the White Worms had bitten it.

He pressed his mouthparts against one of the wounds and began lapping. A thin trickle of liquid ran along his tongue into his throat, then down into his belly.

After only a few laps, the wound stopped oozing. Rowan moved on to another one, but each wound dried up after just a few licks. By the time he had made a full round, he had barely eaten enough to feel half full. He tried to widen the wounds in the root, but found that his mouthparts were no use for that.

He thought for a moment, then shoved one of the nearby rolling White Worms next to the root. The White Worm really was brainless. The moment it found food by its mouth, it bit down without hesitation.

Rowan watched as the White Worm's huge teeth quickly chewed a fresh wound into the root, and tempting plant juice flowed out. He hurriedly kicked the White Worm away, then moved in himself.

With the help of his tool bug, Rowan finally drank his fill.

After eating and drinking his fill, he shoved the tool bug back beside the root and kicked the other White Worms farther away.

He followed the passage back to the layer of sand and gravel. Digging all the way there had taken a lot of energy, and discovering food had eased his sense of urgency, so Rowan decided to rest for a while.

As for why he had gone all the way back instead of resting beside the root—

Rowan was worried that although the White Worms didn't look carnivorous, he wasn't an expert on insects. If one of them suddenly went crazy and bit him, his little arms and legs wouldn't be able to stop those two huge teeth.

And even if they wouldn't bite him, waking up to find a few pairs of huge teeth waving right in front of him would be frightening. After thinking it over, he decided to rest farther away.

When Rowan woke up again, he had no idea how much time had passed. Anyway, his previously full stomach was hungry again.

He tried to pat his belly with his forelegs, but suddenly noticed something strange. Another pair of limbs had grown in front of his original forelegs. They looked incredibly strong. Instead of tiny hooked claws at the ends, they were shaped like rakes, with a palm-like surface and four short, thick, slightly curved prongs extending from it.

Efiash, Infinite Evolution Bug!

Rowan somehow thought of those words, and began to understand what they meant. Before going to sleep, he had grumbled that his tiny hooked claws weren't good enough for digging. When he woke up, he had a new pair of rakes, clearly perfect for digging and plowing.

For a moment, his thoughts wandered. Somehow, he remembered a game he'd played in his previous life, which had a creature called a Self-Destruct Bug...

Rowan really wanted to slap himself twice. What was he thinking? What if something weird really did grow on him while he was asleep, and he woke up and blew himself up? Who the hell could he complain to then?

But what were these things evolving in response to? He would have to think it over carefully before his next rest. But now wasn't the time for that. First, he needed to fill his belly.

The newly grown rake-like limbs were incredibly useful. Their slightly curved prongs could easily pierce the soil and dig out a big chunk.

Strangely enough, Rowan had been hopeless at finding his way around in his previous life. He always needed navigation when he went out, or he'd get lost. But after becoming a bug, his sense of direction was astonishingly good.

In this lightless underground world, where everything around him was identical sand and gravel and a normal person couldn't tell up from down, he could quickly find the passage he had dug last time without taking a single wrong turn.

It was hard to explain. It was as if he simply knew which direction to go.

Some parts of the passage had collapsed, but last time he had managed to dig his way through with his little hooked claws. Now it was nothing to him.

He now had eight limbs. He hadn't known much about insects in his previous life. He'd killed plenty of flies and mosquitoes, but had never counted their legs. And there were so many kinds of insects; having extra legs was probably normal. Take centipedes, for example. When he was in kindergarten, his teacher told the story of a centipede putting on shoes before every nap. Rowan had never once stayed awake long enough to hear the centipede finish putting them all on.

But those insects were born that way. He had grown these limbs on the spot to suit his needs. He worried that if this continued, he had no idea what kind of monster he would become. Then he chuckled at himself. He was already a bug, so why worry about that?

Did bugs even care about looks when finding a mate? Rowan thought about it. Maybe they did. He hadn't seen any of his own kind yet, so he didn't know what bugs considered attractive. Then he suddenly wondered whether he was male or female. Did bugs have penises? He felt around and couldn't find anything. Could he be a female bug?

If Rowan had still been human, his face would have been deathly pale.

He arrived at the unknown plant's root in a daze. When he saw a line of White Worms sprawled there, feasting, he was instantly furious.

He rushed forward and kicked them away one by one.

As he lapped up the delicious juice and watched the White Worms writhing and rolling nearby, Rowan felt much better.

Sure enough, happiness was built on the suffering of other bugs.