Egon stepped back outside, and the dozen imps immediately surrounded him again.
Some of their eager faces were ugly, some muscular, some shorter a few inches from his own. He cleared his throat, trying to recall anything Number Nine might have said in situations like this.
"So… uh… how did you survive?" the tiny imp asked again, looking at Egon with admiring eyes.
Egon lifted his chin slightly, then replied, "Actually, I didn't hide."
"I fought." he chose to brag.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
The gasp turned into shocked chatter.
Even the muscular imp who brought him back blinked.
"You… fought? Number Nine?"
Egon nodded solemnly, pretending to look traumatized.
"Yes. The beast was huge. Its claws were like… like sword blades. And it breathed out fire."
"Like sword blades! And fire breathe?" the imps echoed, stunned.
Egon continued, warming up to the role.
"It cornered me. I thought that was the end. But then I remembered the tribe. And all of you."
The imps looked touched. Some even wiped imaginary tears.
"So I bit it," Egon finished confidently.
The crowd erupted.
"No. Nine bit the Lizard!"
"He's becoming fierce!"
"Strong! Strong!"
One hyperactive imp practically climbed onto his shoulder.
"Show us the bite mark! Show us the teeth technique!"
Egon coughed awkwardly, "Uh… maybe later."
The muscular imp stepped forward, and placed a firm hand on Egon's back.
"You've changed, Number Nine. Maybe you really will receive a name from the high-lords someday," it said, looking proud.
Egon remembered clearly: receiving a name from a Lord-level monster was an immense privilege. Named monsters and unnamed monsters were worlds apart.
Gaining a name meant species evolution, a massive boost in power, and high status among both monsters and the demon race.
But that only raised another question.
Why hadn't he gained anything like that?
Or… was it possible he simply hadn't discovered the nature of the blessing he received?
Being named by a goddess-like figure couldn't be that useless, right?
For now, though, he pushed that thought to the back of his mind.
His most immediate concern was becoming stronger. If this tiny imp tribe ran into another salamander-type monster, he might end up as cannon fodder along with the rest of them.
An imp's life was already miserable. Born from raw mana, they usually lived up to six months at most—assuming they survived that long in the first place.
Other species, especially those ugly orcs, didn't even consider imps worth acknowledging. They were treated as pests. Expendable. Disposable.
And Egon had no intention of dying as one.
"So, who's going to hunt with me?" Egon asked. "I've learned that fighting is the only way to grow stronger. So if any of you want to become stronger, speak up now."
At his words, most of the imps immediately backed away, fear written all over their faces.
"We not brave like you, Nine," one muttered, trembling.
But the muscular imp stepped forward without hesitation.
"They are still young, Nine. I will go with you. I want to become strong and brave like you."
Only then did Egon take a proper look at him. His face, which had always seemed big and ugly, suddenly felt more… respectable. And worth acknowledging.
Nunber five was not just some brute, he had courage as well.
"Alright, brother five. You're coming with me," Egon said with a grin.
Securing even one ally made him genuinely happy. In a world where he was at the bottom of the power chain, having another pair of hands no matter how weak could make the difference between life and death.
"But where should we go for hunt, Nine?" Imp Five asked, raising one bushy eyebrow.
"We need a place where the prey is easy, but the mana is thick," Egon stated, trying to sound like an experienced, battle-hardened veteran instead of a freshly baked horror-show refugee. He recalled the fragmented, instinctual memories of the creature whose body he now inhabited. Imps didn't "hunt" so much as they scavenged, picking off weak cave critters or waiting for larger predators to leave scraps.
"What about the Western Tunnels?" Number Five suggested immediately, "It's near the surface-level cracks. Not many big monsters go there because the air is too dry, but the rock moss is thick. Plenty of weak cave-hoppers feed on the moss there."
Rock moss and cave-hoppers. It sounded pathetic, but Egon had to start somewhere. If he couldn't take down a glorified insect, he certainly couldn't face a Salamander.
"Good. We'll start there then," Egon affirmed.
He then turned to the cowering imps and said,
"Listen! We are going out. No one leaves this cave. Stay low, stay quiet. When we come back, we'll bring food."
There was a chorus of terrified nods and whispered agreements. To them, the trip sounded like a suicidal expedition, but Number Nine, the imp who bit the Fire Salamander, was now the undeniable leader.
The journey to the Western Tunnels was short but tense. The air grew noticeably cooler and drier as they moved away from the deeper, sulfurous warmth of the central caverns.
Egon walked with a strange, unnerving efficiency. His new body felt unfamiliar, but the primal instincts of the imp were now engraved onto his bones and muscles memories.
The way to shift weight on all fours, the perfect low crouch, the heightened scent of minerals and decay — he quickly adapted to all.
"Nine, are you sure you are alright?" Number Five whispered, keeping pace beside him.
"You move… different. Faster."
"It's because I have changed," Egon replied cryptically, not wanting to elaborate. "Fighting the big Lizard changed me. Anyway, we should focus on the current situation. I can smell something."
He did. Not a smell from his human memory, but a sharp, earthy, metallic scent that the imp instincts labeled as 'Prey - Low Threat'.
They crept around a bend in the tunnel. The cavern opened up slightly, and the light, filtered daylight from cracks in the surface far above, dappled the walls. The floor was covered in patches of luminescent green and purple moss.
And there, nibbling oblivious to their presence, were three Cave-Hoppers.
Chu~chu~chu~
They were about the size of a human fist, covered in segmented, dull grey shells, with long, spring-loaded hind legs. They looked harmless, but Egon knew from the infodump in his brain that their mandibles could shear through soft tissue.
"We will have to take them silently," Egon instructed Number Five, gesturing with a clawed hand. "You take the one on the left. I'll take the one in the middle. We will attack at the same time."
Number Five swallowed hard, but nodded firmly.
"Yes, Nine. Like the brave ones."
Egon crouched low. He focused all his attention on the hopper while gripping a wooden twig in his arm. His Iron teeth could also served as a weapon.
He had no magic skills. He would use brute force.
"Now!"
Egon launched himself forward. His run was a low, scuttling blur. The middle Cave-Hopper, sensing the sudden vibration, tried to spring away, but Egon was faster.
Thud!
He landed on its back and, acting purely on the imp's killing instinct, he drove one of his thick, sharpened claws right through the gap in its shell, severing the connection between its head and body. The Cave-Hopper twitched once then went limp.
Beside him, Number Five had been less efficient. He'd pounced on his target, but the hopper had managed to kick off the wall. It launched itself like a grey projectile, slamming right into Number Five's face.
"Agh!" Five roared, stumbling back, clutching his nose.
The third Cave-Hopper, now alerted, began hopping frantically towards a fissure in the rock wall.
Egon didn't hesitate. He felt a spark of pure anger. Not at the prey, but at his own weakness. He sprinted after the escaping hopper, closing the distance in three long strides.
As he caught up, he swung his arm wide, his clawed hand catching the creature and bowling it against the wall. It clattered down, stunned. Egon dropped onto it and crushed it under his weight.
He turned back to find Number Five spitting dust and holding the first hopper he'd stunned.
"Five, are you alright?" Egon asked, his voice rough.
"Uh, I.. I am fine, Nine. It just knocked the wind out of me," Five replied, slightly embarrassed. "I should have been faster."
Egon extended his clawed hand. "Get up, brother Five. We all learn and grow. It's just a matter of time.
Five stood up with Egon's help.
"You're so wise, Nine. Don't worry, I won't hold you back," he replied while clenching his fist.
Egon nodded and went over to a Cave Hopper's corpse.
It was time to test his Unique Skill: Genesis Overclock.