The first thing I felt was hunger.
It wasn't the "I missed lunch" kind of hunger. It was a hollow, soul-consuming void that felt like my very existence was being eroded from the inside out. It was a primal scream for matter. For meat. For anything to fill the emptiness.
The second thing I felt was... wood.
I tried to open my eyes, but I didn't have eyelids. Instead, my vision just "happened." It was grainy, like looking through a scratched lens, and the FOV was unnervingly wide. I wasn't lying on a floor; I *was* the thing on the floor.
I was a box.
A rectangular, oak-wood chest with rusted iron bands and a heavy lid that felt like a leaden jaw.
[Welcome to the Dungeon System!]
[Species Acquired: Lesser Wood Mimic (Larva)]
[Level: 1]
[HP: 50/50]
[Hunger: 98/100 (STARVING)]
A blue holographic screen flickered in my vision. I stared at it—or rather, I focused my consciousness on it.
Mimic? I died in a hit-and-run while carrying a bag of groceries, and now I'm a carnivorous piece of furniture? This had to be a joke. A very cruel, very thirsty joke.
I tried to move. I didn't have legs, but I could feel a certain... tension in my hinges. With a monumental effort, I tried to jump.
[Krieeeeet—Thud.]
I hopped exactly two inches off the ground and landed with a pathetic wooden clatter.
[Skill Unlocked: Hop (Lvl 1)]
[Effect: Allows minor repositioning. You are a chest, not a bunny. Don't get cocky.]
"Great," I thought. My internal voice sounded surprisingly like my old self, only bitterer. "I'm a hopping loot box in a damp, moss-covered room. I'm basically the tutorial mob that gets bullied by teenagers."
I scanned the room. It was a stone chamber, maybe ten by ten feet. A single guttering torch flickered in a wall bracket. One door. No windows. It was the quintessential "Room 1" of every dungeon crawler I'd ever played.
Suddenly, a vibration hummed through the stone floor.
*Step. Step. Scrape.*
Someone was coming.
Instinct—ancient, dark, and hungry—surged through my wooden frame. My hunger spiked to 99. I felt a long, sticky appendage inside my cavity coil like a spring. My teeth—disguised as jagged wood splinters along my rim—began to itch.
[Skill Activated: Deceptive Stillness]
[Effect: You look like a perfectly normal, innocent loot chest. Perception check required to see through the ruse.]
I shut my lid tight. I suppressed the urge to growl. I waited.
The door creaked open. A man stepped in. He looked like he'd stepped straight out of a low-budget fantasy film: boiled leather armor, a greasy headband, and a notched shortsword. Above his head, a floating tag read:
[Human Rogue - Lvl 3]
[Status: Greedy / Careless]
"Jackpot," the man whispered, his eyes widening as they landed on me. "A chest already? The boys said the first floor was picked clean."
He didn't check for wires. He didn't tap the floor for pressure plates. He just sheathed his sword and knelt in front of me, his face inches away from my lid. I could smell the stale beer on his breath. It was disgusting.
It was delicious.
His fingers fumbled with my iron latch. I felt his touch—a cold, oily sensation on my "skin."
*Click.*
He lifted the lid. He leaned in, expecting gold coins or perhaps a silver dagger.
"What the—? It's empty?" he muttered, peering into the dark, purple-hued void of my throat.
I didn't give him a second to wonder why the "wood" inside was pulsating.
[SNAP!]
I slammed my lid shut with the force of a bear trap. My teeth sank deep into his neck and shoulders.
The man didn't even have time to scream. There was only the muffled, wet sound of crushing vertebrae and the frantic drumming of his boots against the stone floor.
[Critical Hit!]
[Skill Activated: Digestive Acid (Lvl 1)]
A burning, green bile flooded my mouth. The Rogue's struggle lasted all of ten seconds before his body went limp. I tasted iron. I tasted salt. I tasted the sweet, intoxicating rush of his Level 3 soul being torn away and converted into raw data.
[Enemy Defeated: Human Rogue (Lvl 3)]
[Experience Gained: 150 XP]
[LEVEL UP!]
[Lesser Wood Mimic -> Lvl 2]
The hunger receded, replaced by a warm, tingling sensation. I felt my wood grain knitting together, becoming denser, stronger.
[Devour Complete. Extracting Attributes...]
[Loot Acquired:]
[- 3 Gold Coins (Stored in Inventory)]
[- Skill: Lockpicking (Basic)]
I spat out a few tufts of hair and a leather button.
I wasn't a man anymore. I was a monster. And for the first time since waking up in this hole... I was looking forward to the next guest.
"Welcome to the dungeon," I thought, my hinges creaking in a rhythmic, mocking laugh. "I hope you brought more than three coins."