Phantom: Void Carnotaur 1 : A Monster Evolution LitRPG by Cypher

Author:Cypher [Cypher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2026-03-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

My claws dig into the packed earth.

Scrape. Pull. Heave.

My body feels wrong.

Every movement stretches my skin to the breaking point. The scales along my spine groan against each other. They are too tight.

I am a snake ready to shed. I am a chick too big for the egg.

[Status: Pre-Evolutionary Stress]

[Debuff: Agility -10%]

The Blue Box mocks me. It tells me I am slow. It tells me I am heavy.

I reach the surface.

The jungle night hits me like a physical weight. The humidity is 100%. The heat is oppressive.

I gasp. The air tastes of wet mold and ozone.

I shake my head to clear the dizziness. The motion sends a spike of pain down my neck.

Too tight.

I need to grow. To grow, I need the numbers. I need the XP to hit the cap.

[Level: 8]

The ants were good. But not enough.

I need something denser. Something with more spark.

I taste the air.

I flick my tongue out. The sensors analyze the chemical soup of the jungle.

Rotting wood. Orchid nectar. Jaguar musk.

And something else.

Sharp. Acrid. Ammonia.

It smells like the fear-water the small mammals make. But stronger.

And salt. The smell of processed meat. The smell of the "Loud Ones."

My head snaps toward the scent.

West. Downwind.

A single trail.

The Loud Ones usually move in packs. They are like wolves, but clumsy. They rely on the Thunder-Sticks.

To find one alone is rare.

To find one smelling this much of fear is a gift.

I move.

I keep my belly low to the ground. The ferns brush against my flanks. The friction itches. It makes the burning under my skin worse.

I ignore it. The Hunger is louder than the itch.

I step over a rotting log. My claws sink into the moss. No sound.

[Stealth Check: Pass]

I flow through the shadows. The moonlight filters through the canopy in jagged slivers. I stick to the dark patches.

The scent grows stronger.

The ammonia is overpowering now. It stings my nostrils.

He is close.

I slow down. I engage the "Soft-Step." I place each foot with deliberate care, feeling for twigs before shifting my weight.

I crest a small rise.

Below, in a small clearing dominated by a massive Kapok tree, is the prey.

It is a Loud One. A male.

He is small. Much smaller than the Heavy Gunner who destroyed the forest. He is thin, wrapped in loose, green "False Skin."

He stands facing the tree. He leans his forehead against the bark.

His body shakes. Rhythmic spasms run through his shoulders.

He makes noises. Wet, choking sounds.

"Madre de Dios... no puedo... no puedo más..."

The sounds mean nothing to me. They are just vibrations. Weakness.

He is leaking water from his eyes. It runs down his face, dripping onto the roots.

He is leaking waste water from his groin. The dark stain spreads on the tree bark. The smell of ammonia is fresh.

He is emptying himself. He is purging fluids.

Why?

Is he sick? Is he dying?

[Target: Human (Jorge)]

[Level: 3]

[HP: 45/45]

[Status: Terrified (Severe), Dehydrated]

[Threat Level: Low]

Level 3.

A snack.

But even a snack can bite.

I look for the Thunder-Stick.

It is there. Leaning against the tree roots, a meter away from his hand.

Careless.

The metal is black and oily.

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