2 - Level up?!

Viktorian shook his little slime body as an army of amorphous blobs turned toward him. Hundreds of little baby slimes surrounded him, all focused on the sudden words he gurgled out.

"Shiiiiii!!!!"

"Shiii!!!" They echoed his profanity in the slime nest. 

He shivered as the little bodies started climbing on him, covering him with their slimy goo—although he was the exact same as them. He felt himself slipping as he was pulled from one end to the other. The creatures, in some manner or way, were communicating with each other. Though he couldn't hear their thoughts, he heard little psychic echoes filling his brain.

Anomaly.

Outsider.

Non-slime.

Defect.

Deviation.

Those were the words he could make sense of, though they felt more like emotions they emitted… It had to be some kind of survival mechanism—keeping irregular slimes out of the spawning horde of blue jelly. Viktorian could only stare in horror as they surrounded his little putrid body. He was completely and utterly helpless.

Can one of them at least turn into an itty bitty slime woman. No?

Hugged to death by ugly little slimes. This was not how he expected to die. Immediately after rebirth, no less. Did that mean he would go back to the waiting list? Three years, if not more, of endless drifting and regretting his past life choices?

He closed his googly eyes, accepting his fate.

Well, he had a nice five seconds of being a live. He'd cherish by savouring his last memories, of the Well, divinely shaped goddess. 

This would be it.

An unholy gust struck the center of the slime mass, scattering hundreds of little slimes. Viktorian was blown away, hurled hundreds of meters from where he had been suffocated by his slime peers. 

 He landed somewhere, it looked like the ridge of what appeared to be a hollowed-out mountain. He turned his attention to where the gusty wind had appeared. 

The majority of the slimes were stuck below.

Eh!?

 Was that some kind of divine help? Was it that goddess's doing?

[No, little slime. It was my doing. Now run!]

Shivers ran down his blobby back. A voice had just spoken to him in his head.

What!?

[Run, you fool!] The voice shouted at him. It was very feminine—like a stern teacher, maybe a hot mo—

[Flee!]

Several slimes slithered toward him, staring at him like he was their prey. Panic set in shortly after. And he ran for his life.

Uh… bounced away.

The small slimes chased him down, squelching, gibbering, and bopping—hopping behind him like jackrabbits on roids.

Up ahead, inside the hollowed-out cavern, there was a small dark crevice. If he could get in there, perhaps they wouldn't pursue him.

Viktorian made the mistake of peering behind him. He stared, aghast and flabbergasted.

The baby slimes weren't just chasing him anymore. In fact, they seemed to be running for their own lives.

A frenzy! No—a carnage!

Massive blobs had appeared in the hollowed-out cavern and were busy devouring the smaller ones. Viktorian stood frozen in horror, watching the slimes get absorbed, dissolved, and cannibalized by what may have been their siblings. Or were they more like mitochondria undergoing fission?

[I told you to run! Don't think] the voice scolded him.

"Alright! Alright!" he squelched and bubbled. 

Viktorian turned around, slowly but surely, dragging himself toward the cave. Now that they weren't deliberately targeting him, he felt a little at ease. Why run when he could conserve his energy?

If he had hands, he would have scratched his head.

He was a monster now. That meant he would not be blessed with the comforts and safety of human society.

He'd be stuck in a dog-eat-dog world. Forever hunted or be forced to hunt. So much for living a slow life. 

[If your puny little head would simply listen, perhaps there is a way out.]

Viktorian didn't question the voice—not yet. He crept under the crevice, waiting and biding his time. He was dark around him. Like a very small chamber and very hot. 

Was the mountain volcanic?

"What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

[Be a monster. Kill, eat, devour, consume. Evolve. Grow] The voice advice. 

"Easier said than done."

He did a double take, realizing the absurdity of the situation.

"Who are you, voice? And what was that strike of wind that fell?"

The voice didn't answer. Before he could inquire further, a slime tinier than even him bopped on by, heading in his direction. Weak, small, and stupid—likely running for cover just like he was.

He observed the blobs from afar. Some had tendrils, tentacles, and even hands, which they used to kill the smaller ones. Others simply walked into those of lesser width and height, absorbing them on contact.

A dark thought crossed his mind.

Kill, eat, devour, consume.

Viktorian lunged at the little slime in front of him, pressing his weight on top of the poor creature and slowly starting to consume it.

It struggled as it was being absorbed. Viktorian could taste everything and nothing—the gelatinous ooze had an oddly sweet, almost candy-like flavor, but was far too sticky. 

Was he wrong to think yummy? Had he ingested this much as a human, his organs would be clogged by now. 

As the tiny slime dissolved inside of him and he grew bigger and thicker, Viktorian's nonexistent stomach felt full. 

+25 EXP

Level Up!

[System Notification]

Name: Viktorian

Level: 2

Race: Slime (Baby)

Class: None

HP: 40/40 (↑20)

MP: 10/10

Stamina: 16/16

Attributes:

Strength: 2 → 3

Dexterity: 4 → 5

Constitution: 2 → 3

Intelligence: 1 → 2

Wisdom: 1 → 2

Charisma: 2 → 3

He should have felt joy, or awe, or maybe even amusement. Instead, he felt nothing—pure emptiness. They were just numbers on a screen and although he felt stronger he was unsatisfied.

This wasn't what he cared about.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair. He wanted a Harem not be consigned to a life of strife. 

He wanted to be around voluptuous beauties, pretty barmaids, and female knights whose boots he could even lick, while they trampled him. 

Not this. Not… slime stuff.

Before he could spiral into despair, another screen popped up.

▶ Slime Tendril (Lv 1)

Unleash a swift, elongated tendril of viscous flesh to pierce enemies with precision. Flexible yet razor-sharp, it extends from your body, striking foes with deadly accuracy.

"Slime tendril? What in the tarnation?"

Viktorian summoned the tendril. It shot out of him like a jet.

It still wasn't the same as the tentacles the big ones had.

[Good, you are growing. Good. I suggest you get some sleep.]

"Sleep? How can I sleep in this mess? Voice, look around."

Viktorian stared at the chaos, disappointed.

The voice did not comment.

Instead, he summoned the tendril again, playing with it a bit.

A strange sensation filled him when he touched a rock. He could feel the rock's texture—but he felt it all the way to the end of his body. He could taste the rock, feel it's weight all form a single touch. 

A realization struck him.

He may have lost Johnson… but he had Tendrilson right here.

His mind raced.

Lewd thoughts. Ideas.

Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

Viktorian crept back into the crevice, waiting for the commotion to die down. Then he would decide if being is a slime was worth living for. 

He his goggly eyes closed.