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The half-body of the unknown insect lay on the forest floor, its severed abdomen twitching faintly as if struggling against the inevitable pull of death.

Haeto's excitement had tempered into a calm, calculating demeanor.

He observed the still form, his mind buzzing with questions.

Why did the blood attract attention so quickly?

Normally, he thought, decaying flesh was what was called scavenger insects, but this was different.

The reaction had been almost instantaneous.

Just why?

What is the reason behind it?

His musings were interrupted when he felt a faint vibration in the air.

A glimmer of movement caught his attention, and he realized that another insect had taken notice of the bait.

It approached cautiously, its wings buzzing faintly as it landed just close enough for Haeto to reach.

Perfect.

With a sudden bang, Haeto's jaws snapped shut.

The crunch of exoskeleton and the tang of insect blood filled his senses, a brief burst of satisfaction coursing through his body. "Gotcha," he muttered to himself.

The new catch brought his count to eight, plus the tantalizing half-body he'd managed to preserve.

Eight and a half out of a hundred.

It wasn't much, but it was progress.

The system's translucent screen is still in his mind, as if making sure or taunting him with its countdown.

He had to reach the goal.

Time passed, and as the forest buzzed with the life of countless creatures, Haeto waited.

His trap was still effective, and soon another insect came close, drawn by the tantalizing scent of the severed body.

Without hesitation, Haeto struck.

Bang!

Another satisfying crunch, another addition to his growing tally.

One after another, insects approached the bait, their small, buzzing forms oblivious to the danger.

Haeto honed his movements with each catch, learning to strike with precision and speed.

An insect with shimmering green wings landed just beyond the bait.

Haeto froze, his instincts screaming at him to snap immediately. But he held back, letting the creature come closer, letting its curiosity lead it to his trap.

When it finally stepped onto the bait, Haeto's jaws shot forward.

Crunch!

His accuracy had improved; he was becoming faster, sharper.

His count climbed steadily.

Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

As the day wore on, more insects fell to his carefully set trap.

A particularly large one—a beetle with gleaming red armor—hovered just above the bait.

It hesitated, its mandibles twitching as if it sensed something amiss.

Haeto waited, his body still as stone.

Patience, he reminded himself.

The beetle finally landed, its sharp legs probing the half-body of the previous victim.

Bang!

Haeto struck with ferocity, his jaws crushing through the beetle's tough shell.

Twelve.

Thirteen.

Fourteen.

By now, Haeto was no longer just catching insects; he was perfecting his craft.

His strikes were faster, his aim was deadlier.

He had learned to control his instincts, to bide his time until the moment was right.

A small swarm of tiny insects appeared next, their translucent wings reflecting the sunlight in a faint, golden shimmer.

Haeto felt a surge of excitement.

A swarm.

This could push me closer to my goal.

He steadied himself, waiting as the first of the swarm landed.

Snap!

Fifteen.

Another insect approached.

Crunch!

Sixteen.

The swarm began to disperse as the remaining insects grew wary, their instincts warning them of the predator in their midst.

Haeto growled internally.

He had hoped to catch more from the group, but it didn't matter.

He was getting closer.

Seventeen.

Eighteen.

Nineteen.

By now, Haeto's body thrummed with satisfaction.

He was no longer fumbling with his strikes, no longer ruled by desperation.

This was practice hunting, and he was growing more confident with every kill.

But then, as suddenly as they had appeared, the insects stopped coming.

The forest grew quiet, the buzzing of wings fading into the distance.

Haeto's trap lay untouched, the half-body of his bait now shriveled and dry.

He waited, hoping for one last insect to stray too close, but none did.

The day was coming to an end, and the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the forest floor.

Nineteen.

That was his count.

Haeto was frustrated but not entirely defeated.

He had made progress, but it wasn't enough.

The system wanted him to at least have one hundred of them.

How can he do that?

Haeto felt like if he found the real reason why the insects were attracted to the corpses of the dead insects immediately, he would get the answer.

However, what is the reason?

So instead of cursing his luck or lamenting his failures, Haeto remained calm.

He had learned much from today's hunt, and his mind buzzed with new questions and observations.

Why had the insects stopped coming?

Was it the bait?

The placement?

The timing?

His plant body stiffened with determination.

He would study the events of the day, analyze every detail, and adapt his strategy.

There was no room for error, no time for complacency.

As the last rays of sunlight faded and the forest descended into twilight, Haeto resolved to uncover the truth even if he spent all his night studying it.

The night had cast its dark shroud over the Grum Forest, with the soft rustling of leaves and faint chirping of distant creatures serving as the only sounds.

Haeto, quiet and still, couldn't shake the nagging thought that had taken root in his mind.

His sharp awareness lingered on the severed insect body beside him.

The wound had dried, its once-glossy blood now hardened and dull.

Is this the reason why the bugs stopped coming? he thought, his plant body stiffening as the realization struck him.

Without hesitation, Haeto snapped his jaws around the lifeless husk.

His sharp maw effortlessly divided it into two fresh parts, and almost immediately, the air filled with a potent, sweet waff of fresh blood.

He felt the effect instantly.

It was sharper, more enticing, and even in the absence of buzzing insects, he noticed movement nearby.

From the shadows, a crawling creature emerged, its segmented body glinting faintly in the moonlight.

It looked like a sow bug, but larger, almost grotesquely so, its antennae twitching as it scuttled toward the fresh bait.

Haeto's tension eased, replaced with bubbling excitement.

Crawlers?

At night?

Don't tell me I can still hunt even in the dark?

A thrill envelops his three leaves.

The realization opened new possibilities, and Haeto felt his earlier frustrations dissolve into eagerness and greed.

His trap had worked, and now it was time to see just how much he could accomplish.

More crawlers followed the first, emerging from the underbrush in droves.

Their tiny legs clattered softly against the forest floor as they approached the bait, drawn by the irresistible scent of blood.

Haeto's plant body tensed, his maw quivering with anticipation.

The first crawler inched closer, its segmented armor gleaming under the faint light of the moon.

Haeto struck.

Chomp!

The crunch of its hard shell was satisfying, and its wriggling form quickly disappeared into his maw.

He savored the sensation before his attention snapped back to the group.

The crawlers kept coming, oblivious to the danger as they crowded around the bait.

Haeto's excitement mounted as he struck again.

Crunch!

Crunch!

"Twenty," Haeto muttered under his breath, his voice a low growl of satisfaction.

More crawlers arrived, their numbers swelling.

Haeto felt a surge of elation as he continued his relentless hunt.

The count rose steadily.

"Twenty-one."

"Twenty-two."

"Twenty-three."

With each bite, his confidence grew. He was no longer a passive observer in the competition for survival; he was dominating the night.

The group of crawlers seemed endless. Haeto marveled at their sheer numbers, his plant instincts reveling in the feast. He struck again, his movements precise and calculated.

"Twenty-six," he muttered, his tone triumphant.

More crawlers arrived in clusters, the scent of blood calling to them like a siren's song. Haeto took full advantage, his maw snapping shut in rapid succession. The numbers jumped dramatically.

"Twenty-nine."

"Thirty-four."

"Thirty-seven."

The forest floor had become a battlefield of sorts, with Haeto reigning supreme. His bait had done its job, and the crawlers continued to gather, unaware of the predator lying in wait.

Haeto's elation reached its peak as he surpassed fifty.

"Fifty-one."

"Fifty-eight."

The numbers soared higher, and Haeto could hardly believe his success. His confidence swelled, and a triumphant laugh escaped him.

"Sixty-four," he whispered, his tone filled with pride.

But as the night carried on, something shifted.

From the shadows came a sudden, unnerving sound—a low, guttural clicking that made Haeto freeze.

His unseen eyes darted toward the source, and his plant body stiffened as a massive sow bug emerged from the darkness.

It was unlike the others, its body larger and more armored, with an almost menacing aura.

Its antennae twitched with an unsettling way, and its many legs moved with an unnerving speed.

Haeto watched, stunned, as the creature darted toward the bait.

Before he could react, the sow bug lunged, its powerful mandibles snapping around one of his bait pieces.

With a quick, fluid movement, it snatched the severed insect half and disappeared into the shadows.

Haeto was speechless.

He barely had time to process what had just happened when the creature reappeared, snatching the second piece of bait with the same swiftness.

In mere moments, both bait pieces were gone, and the massive sow bug vanished into the forest, leaving Haeto stunned and utterly helpless.

For a long time, Haeto remained frozen, his plant body trembling with frustration and disbelief.

The night that had seemed so promising had taken a sharp, unexpected turn.

"Damn it!"

Even if he thinks of it deeply, it was no use.

Unable to do anything more, Haeto finally let his tension drain away.

His plant body sagged and he resigned himself to rest, making the forest become quiet.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, he will hunt more.

Since he can, maybe he can reach a hundred.