Chapter Thirteen: Capturing the Chocobo

The grilled fish from breakfast lingered in Jia Zhengjin’s memory. While coconuts could fill his stomach, eating fruit three times a day simply wasn’t the same. Only after tasting real meat did he feel his strength return.

“That’s the kind of centipede!” Shield in his left hand, spear in his right, he followed the trail of sticky residue left behind. Eventually, he found a cave, and from a distance, saw countless giant centipedes crawling in and out, their hissing sending chills down his spine.

Jia Zhengjin instantly lost his nerve. He wasn’t even sure he could win a one-on-one fight, let alone face a nest of these monsters. If each centipede spat out just a mouthful of venom, he’d be completely overwhelmed.

Still, he wanted to use their venom to catch fish or hunt. The only feasible method was a trap.

Estimating the distance, he took out a stone shovel and found a clearing, then dug several pit traps right there. This time, he filled the pits with sharp wooden spikes—any centipede that fell in would be impaled!

The traps were ready, but luring the centipedes was another matter. Last night’s intruder had stumbled near his home by sheer bad luck and got skewered. He couldn’t use himself as bait. If these centipedes found him, escape would be impossible.

Sitting cross-legged, Jia Zhengjin pressed his middle fingers against his temples and pondered with closed eyes. Suddenly inspired, he rushed back the way he came.

He dug up the fish guts he’d buried by the river that morning and threw them into each pit. Then, he quickly retreated, hiding behind a large boulder on a nearby hill.

The stench of the guts proved irresistible. The centipedes surged toward the traps, eager for a meal—only to be instantly pierced by the sharp spikes. The unlucky ones struggled desperately, but their comrades arriving behind them piled on top, a perfect assist!

The first centipedes became cannon fodder, slain by the spikes and their own kin. The luckier ones, shielded by the bodies of their fallen comrades, were unharmed by the spikes, enjoyed the fish guts, and left satisfied.

Jia Zhengjin waited a long time, watching as the centipedes finished their meal and departed. Only then did he cautiously approach and inspect his traps.

The spike pits had claimed nine giant centipedes. Though he gained no experience, they yielded nine precious venom sacs and strange silk threads.

Satisfied with his haul—especially since he’d used up all the fish guts for today—Jia Zhengjin called it quits.

“With these venom sacs, hunting or fishing will be easy!” He happily smeared venom onto his stone spear and glanced at the distant centipede cave—it would now be his venom-gathering base. Whenever he ran out, he’d return for more; life would be carefree!

He coated his arrows with venom too, determined to have a proper meal. Fish was meat, but it just wasn’t the same.

The forest teemed with all sorts of otherworldly creatures, and today, Jia Zhengjin’s target was a solitary young deer. Though he wasn’t sure it was a deer—its shape was similar, but the antlers weren’t split left and right, instead clustered like coral, quite peculiar. Its markings were black and white; at a glance, it could be mistaken for a zebra!

This zebra-striped, coral-horned creature was grazing, completely unaware of Jia Zhengjin stealthily creeping closer through the grass.

“This is the spot!” Jia Zhengjin chose the best vantage for a shot, slowly stood, and let his brilliant mushroom headpiece rise above the grass. Beneath it, he nocked an arrow, drew his bow, and took aim.

He took a deep breath, holding it to steady his hand. His right eye tracked the strange animal’s path before the arrowhead.

With a twang, the bowstring released at full draw. The venom-tipped arrow shot forward!

The bizarre deer with zebra stripes leapt away, quickly vanishing from sight.

Jia Zhengjin rushed over, only to find his arrow lodged squarely in the head of a plump, bird-like creature.

A flock of similar creatures scattered in panic. Their wings were too small for flight, but their powerful legs made them fleet-footed, like ostriches without necks.

“Ahem! I was aiming for this one all along... Absolutely! That’s it!” Jia Zhengjin blinked, unsure if he was comforting himself or explaining to someone invisible.

[Notification] You’ve slain a landwalker, gaining 15 experience points!

So this rotund, neckless ostrich was called a landwalker? He hadn’t noticed them at all, only the deer.

Their large size made them hard to spot, hidden among the dense greenery, thanks to their camouflaged green feathers and the unusually lush undergrowth of this world.

This single landwalker would provide Jia Zhengjin with enough meat for days! Its feathers were also exactly what he needed for arrow-making.

Too big to carry home? Nonsense!

Jia Zhengjin took out his dagger, and with his gathering skill, easily broke the landwalker down into a bounty of meat and feathers. He packed the guts into his virtual backpack too—they were essential for trapping centipedes and harvesting venom sacs.

As for the leftover bones, Jia Zhengjin dug a pit and buried them, to avoid attracting dangerous carnivores. He’d painstakingly found a relatively safe place to build his home; the last thing he needed was terrifying predators nearby.

With meat and coconuts at hand, and fish always within reach, food was no longer a worry. Now he could devote himself to gathering resources each day to build his future!

At his current rate, the iron ore he collected each day barely sufficed to craft a single iron tool.

And these basic iron tools were already material-efficient! A sturdy iron armor required thirty iron ingots and ten iron chains. Even the most economical iron wrist guard needed fifteen ingots!

But iron armor could only be made at a workbench or smithy. The smithy, aside from requiring many materials, needed blueprints or skill points to unlock.

The workbench was simpler: one iron hammer, fifty iron ingots, thirty copper ingots, and a hundred units of wood!

At Jia Zhengjin’s pace, it would take at least a week to make a workbench. But he had no choice—many useful items could only be crafted there!

Time to mine!