The distance between the rocky layer and the surface was now less than two meters.
This was not good news for Luo Wen.
His advantage lay underground. In this unfamiliar world, among all the creatures he had encountered, he was the fastest mover underground thanks to his burrowing limbs.
So far, however, he had only seen two types of creatures: white grubs and yellow earth ants.
On the surface, his speed could only rank second.
The difference between first and second was significant. The first position indicated no other creatures for comparison, while the second implied that at least one creature was faster than him.
Being fast was a critical survival trait in moments of crisis.
Thus, underground, his safety level was much higher than on the surface.
But now, his strategic depth was less than two meters.
Therefore, he decided to change his strategy.
Given the current trend, with the subterranean water table rising, vegetation was becoming denser and more abundant. Similarly, more and more creatures would appear.
If he continued blindly burrowing, he might very well dig himself into an enemy encirclement.
He needed to slow down, gather more information, and plan his next steps accordingly.
This location, devoid of any insects or animals besides shrubs, suited him perfectly. It was like playing a survival game—he was advancing cautiously, ensuring no enemies approached from behind.
But before anything else, he had to fill his stomach.
The tender green leaves on these shrubs were exceptionally fresh. After multiple thorough tests to confirm they were non-toxic, Luo Wen finally indulged himself.
Judging by the abundance of these shrubs, their leaves would likely be his staple food for the foreseeable future. They were worth the effort to verify.
With his belly full and the sun no longer a threat, Luo Wen wasted no time. He immediately got back to work.
He had barely crawled out before suffering his first attack.
Luo Wen had been highly vigilant. His compound eyes, typically well-protected during digging, demonstrated extraordinary abilities.
Their high resolution made the attacker unmistakable—a creature that was long and sleek, like an oversized earthworm. It suddenly shot out from the soil, its plump cylindrical body resembling a tubular sack aiming to engulf him.
Its exact appearance remained unclear from Luo Wen’s perspective, as all he saw was a massive mouth lined with rows upon rows of fine, sharp teeth spiraling inward, extending deep into its dark, hollow body. The sight was enough to make one’s skin crawl.
Thanks to the high refresh rate of his compound eyes, the giant worm’s originally rapid movements seemed significantly slower, giving Luo Wen ample time to react. With a slight sidestep, he avoided the attack.
Missing its target, the giant worm retracted into the soil, acting as if nothing had happened.
Neither side suffered any injuries, and they should have been able to call it even. However, Luo Wen wasn’t one to hold grudges—or so it seemed. He deliberately entered the worm’s attack range multiple times, and each time, it sprang out to attack without fail.
Thanks to the worm’s cooperation, Luo Wen quickly gathered enough data.
First, its intelligence was low—this was immediately apparent. Next, its body functioned like a spring. It remained compressed underground and sprang out swiftly when prey approached.
However, its attack range was limited to the radius of its half-body length in front of it.
Lastly, it relied on sound and subtle vibrations to locate prey.
With this in mind, Luo Wen burrowed underground, approaching the worm from below. The creature’s weaknesses were too glaring. The fact that it hadn’t gone extinct yet was nothing short of miraculous.
Although its attacks were swift due to its spring-like mechanism, it was only effective when lying in wait as a trap. Against someone like Luo Wen, who played by his own rules, it stood no chance.
When Luo Wen bit into the worm from below, it had only managed to turn halfway. This was a pure display of intellectual superiority. But Luo Wen felt no sense of achievement—this creature’s intelligence was unlikely to comprehend what “superiority” even meant. Showing off to a fool was pointless.
However, he realized that if even a dimwit like this could set a trap to hunt prey, it suggested that there were even dimmer creatures nearby.
Initially, Luo Wen worried that with his current equipment, he might have to lie low for a while as a vegetarian insect. Unexpectedly, a fool had jumped out to reassure him that he could continue being a carnivorous bug.
The oversized worm had no exoskeletal armor. Its tough yet pliant skin was no match for Luo Wen’s sharp mandibles.
With just one bite, Luo Wen tore through the worm’s body. Blackish-brown fluid oozed from the wound, and his suctorial mouthparts latched onto it.
“Bleh, bleh, bleh!” The moment the liquid entered his esophagus, Luo Wen spat repeatedly, trying to expel it. Although he managed to spit out most of it, some had already entered his stomach.
A rancid mud-like stench filled his mouth—it was utterly revolting.
Luo Wen considered himself a bug of simple tastes—he had even licked stones before—but this creature delivered a critical blow to his palate.
This creature was likely the dumbest in the area. It probably survived by eating dirt and set traps merely to pass the time. The fact that it had lived this long without going extinct was entirely due to its disgusting taste.
It perfectly embodied the principle: “If I evolve to be inedible enough, no predator will bother with me.”
Luo Wen shook his head repeatedly, silently vowing to steer clear of it. Its flavor was so off-putting that he nearly developed an eating disorder. He resolved not to eat anything for the rest of the day.
Turning his back on the worm, he quickened his pace and left, unable to stomach even the sight of it.
If the worm had any useful genetic fragments, Luo Wen would have forced himself to eat it despite the gag reflex. Unfortunately, while the countless fine teeth had some appeal, its nauseating quality was something even an undiscerning bug like Luo Wen found unacceptable.
Even if he could stomach it, the ability was pointless—it was the product of countless generations of self-sacrifice by the worm’s ancestors, embedding their stench into the DNA of nearby predators.
To illustrate, if Luo Wen had offspring, he’d definitely tell them to steer clear of these creatures…
Descending into the rocky layer, Luo Wen crawled into a crevice. After drinking his fill of water and relieving himself, he finally managed to rid himself of the foul taste.
Luo Wen realized he had been careless again—he still lacked sufficient experience as a bug. His antennae had taste sensors, and he resolved to taste-test prey with them next time.
For now, he had no energy for further exploration. He decided to rest for a while before continuing his journey.