The tunnel widened into something almost civilized.

  Stone walls gave way to carved blocks. Suzume ran her hand along them as she walked. The surface was smooth, worn down by centuries of moisture and probably other things she didn't want to think about.

  [It almost feels like walking through another world. I mean, yeah, that's part of the point, but it genuinely feels ancient here.]

  Her makeshift torch—a branch she'd found wrapped in dried moss—cast dancing shadows that made every corner look like it hid teeth. The rope from her Toolkit skill hung coiled at her hip. She'd already used it twice to cross gaps where the floor had crumbled away. The skill had another forty minutes before cooldown ended.

  [Should've trained the skill level more.]

  The carved hallway opened into a room that might have been a shrine once. Stone pedestals lined the walls, most empty, a few still holding objects covered in dust thick enough to be measured in centuries. At the center sat a fountain, long dry, its basin filled with more of those carefully arranged bones.

  She stepped inside.

  Her foot caught a tripwire.

  [Shit—]

  The floor tilted. Not all of it, just a perfect rectangle beneath her feet, pivoting on some hidden axis. She threw herself forward, one hand's fingers catching the edge as the stone slab tried to dump her into whatever waited below. She threw the torch ahead and then put both hands on the edge.

  She hauled herself up, ribs screaming in protest.

  [Toolkit reset in thirty-eight minutes.]

  The fountain's bone collection stared at her with empty sockets. Mostly human skulls, but some were different. Elongated. Too many eye holes.

  A sound echoed from the entrance. Footsteps from something with way too many legs. Click-click-tap. Click-click-tap. Like someone walking with canes, except the rhythm suggested eight limbs instead of two.

  Then, after grabbing her torch, she crept behind one of the pedestals.

  The thing that entered made her brain hurt trying to process it.

  Cave Weaver. Level 35.

  She knew this monster.

  Eight legs, each ending in points sharp enough to punch through even System-generated steel. A body with segments like a centipede's, covered in chitin that reflected her torchlight in oil-slick rainbows. But the worst part was the head. Almost human in shape, but stretched, with mandibles that opened sideways and eyes arranged in a perfect circle around its skull.

  [Weak points: leg joints, underside of thorax, the soft palate behind the mandibles.] She recited that from the heart, taken straight from what she'd written in her notes.

  She'd watched seventeen different videos of Players fighting these things. Memorized their attack patterns. The way they preferred to strike from above. How they'd retreat if you damaged more than two legs and stalk you from afar, waiting for you to lower your guard and kill you that way instead.

  All that knowledge felt very academic with one standing ten meters away.

  It hadn't seen her yet. The creature moved toward the fountain, drawn by something. Maybe it could smell the bones. Or maybe it just liked the aesthetics of death arranged in neat patterns.

  [I could wait for it to leave.]

  Except there was only one exit, and the Cave Weaver now stood between her and it.

  The creature lowered its head to the fountain. Mandibles clicked as it examined the bones. One of its back legs swept absently across the floor, the point leaving grooves in stone.

  Suzume's grip tightened on her knife. Six inches of steel that felt woefully inadequate.

  The Cave Weaver's head snapped up. Its circle of eyes rotated, scanning the room systematically. She pressed herself flatter against the pedestal, torch hidden behind her back.

  Click-click-tap. It moved closer.

  Her flares were in the waterproof pouch. Three left. Cave Weavers hated bright lights. Their eyes were designed for near-absolute darkness. One flare might blind it long enough to get past.

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  [Or it might just piss it off.]

  The creature paused three meters away. Its mandibles spread wide, revealing rows of teeth that spiraled down its throat. A strand of something white shot out—webbing that splattered against the pedestal she hid behind.

  [It knows I'm here.]

  She rolled left as the pedestal dissolved. Cave Weaver silk was acidic, designed to break down prey while keeping it immobilized. Another strand shot past her head, close enough that she felt droplets burn her cheek.

  Suzume yanked out a flare and cracked it.

  Red light exploded through the room. The Cave Weaver shrieked—a sound like nails on glass mixed with a child's scream. All eight eyes squeezed shut as it stumbled backward.

  She ran for the exit.

  Three steps. That's all she managed before webbing caught her ankle. The acid burned through her boot immediately, then started on skin. She hit the ground hard, knife flying from her grip, a few steps forward.

  The Cave Weaver recovered faster than the videos suggested. Maybe this one was older, more experienced. It lunged forward, mandibles spread wide enough to take her head off.

  She threw herself toward her fallen weapon to pick it back up. The mandibles snapped shut on empty air.

  [Video twelve: Cave Weavers telegraph their strikes by lifting their front two legs slightly.]

  The front legs rose. She was already moving left. Another miss. The creature's circle of eyes tracked her, recalibrating.

  It shot webbing where she was going to be. Not where she was, where it predicted she'd dodge. But she'd seen this in video nine. Player named Kanaka had died because he kept dodging in patterns. The Cave Weaver had learned his rhythm in forty seconds.

  Suzume stopped mid-dodge. The webbing splattered harmlessly past her.

  The creature tilted its head. Confused.

  [It's not used to prey that knows its moves.]

  It rushed forward, all eight legs moving in perfect synchronization. In the videos, this was where most Players panicked. The sheer speed, the size, the way it filled your entire vision. But she knew the tell. Third leg on the right would plant hard, pivoting the entire body into a sideways swipe.

  There. The leg planted.

  She dropped flat. Eight legs passed over her, close enough that she could smell the rot clinging to its chitin. The Cave Weaver skittered past, unable to stop its momentum on the smooth stone.

  Suzume rolled to her feet and ran toward the pedestal. Not away—toward. In video fifteen, a Player named Reiko had discovered that Cave Weavers had a blind spot directly behind their head cluster. Three seconds of vulnerability while they reoriented.

  [Two seconds left.]

  She grabbed a bone from the fountain—a femur, human, old enough that it felt like stone. The Cave Weaver spun to face her. She was already moving again, using the pedestal to break line of sight.

  It shot webbing at the pedestal. The acid ate through stone, but she'd anticipated that. Was already diving under the spray, coming up on its left side where two of its eyes had gone dark from the flare earlier.

  [Partial blind spot. It'll overcorrect right.]

  The creature swung right. She went left, jamming the femur between its third and fourth leg joints. Not to damage—to distract. Cave Weavers had sensitive nerve clusters there. Even light pressure sent conflicting signals to their brain.

  It stumbled. Just for a moment.

  She drove her knife up into the soft palate behind its mandibles, then pulled back before it could react. Green blood spurted out, but she was already moving, already gone.

  [Don't get greedy. Stick to the plan.]

  The Cave Weaver shrieked. It tried to track her, but the femur between its leg joints made it list sideways. Every adjustment overcorrected. It shot webbing wildly, melting chunks of ceiling, wall, floor. But nothing hit her.

  She circled, waiting. In video six, she'd learned that injured Cave Weavers had a tell before their death strike. They'd go completely still for exactly two seconds, gathering energy.

  The creature went still.

  [One. Two.]

  She stepped left.

  The Cave Weaver lunged right, exactly where she'd been standing. But the lunge was desperate, uncontrolled. It hit the wall hard, stunning itself.

  The underside of its thorax was exposed. Soft, vulnerable, pulsing with whatever Cave Weavers used for blood.

  She drove the knife up.

  The blade sank to the hilt. Green blood poured over her hand, burning, but she was already pulling back, already moving away.

  [Never stay close to a dying monster.]

  The Cave Weaver stumbled backward. One leg swept out in a final, reflexive strike. She saw it coming. Had plenty of time to dodge.

  Her foot slipped on green blood.

  The leg caught her across the chest. Not a direct hit—just the edge of the chitin—but it was enough. The point tore through shirt, skin, muscle. She felt ribs crack. Felt something inside tear.

  [HP: 5/70]

  Suzume gasped.

  She hit the wall and slid down, leaving a red smear on the stone. The Cave Weaver took three more steps, then collapsed. Green blood pooled beneath it, hissing as it ate into the floor.

  [Emergency Treatment. NOW.]

  She activated the skill. Warmth flooded through her, knitting flesh, stopping the bleeding. Not enough to fix everything—her back felt like someone had taken a cheese grater to it—but enough to keep her conscious.

  [HP: 35/70]

  The Cave Weaver twitched once more, then went still. Level 35 defeated by a Level 4 Rescuer who technically shouldn't have been able to scratch it.

  [Knowledge beat power. This time.]

  She sat against the wall, waiting for her hands to stop shaking.

  The math was simple. One hit had taken her from 47 to 5 HP. Without Emergency Treatment, she'd be dead. The skill had a sixty-second cooldown. If she got hit like that again before it reset...

  [Can't think about that.]

  But she couldn't stop thinking about it.

  The Cave Weaver was a C-rank monster. This was its natural habitat. There could be dozens more down here. Hundreds. And she had three flares left, no rope for forty minutes, and a knife currently embedded in a monster corpse.

  She forced herself to stand. Her legs held, barely. The knife came free with a wet sound that made her stomach turn. Green blood had etched patterns into the blade, weakening it. Maybe three or four more uses before it snapped.

  The exit beckoned. Just a dark tunnel leading to more dark tunnels, but it was better than staying next to a corpse that would probably attract scavengers.

  She grabbed her torch and started walking.