Another tremor shook the earth. The colossal snake-necked beast had left. The two cats stayed on the tree for a while longer, ensuring there was no movement before descending for dinner.
The ground was littered with animal corpses. Apart from those unable to see in the dark crashing into trees, many smaller animals were trampled by larger ones. The probability of this happening wasn't high, but here, most animals have modified feet, with claws made of metal, creating wounds upon contact. For small mammals without armor, it was akin to a hellish difficulty level. Animals like guinea pigs that cannot climb trees typically perished under the feet of larger ones.
The two cats first located the bird that crashed to death earlier but had no way to process it, so they directly tore open its belly and started gnawing. They ate to their fill, washed their faces briefly, licked their fur, and then began scouring the ground once more. Shiller chose a smaller guinea pig while Peter found a centipede, not the glowing kind, but a smaller, ordinary insect. He previously took a bite and found the texture crunchy, tasting different from birds. Insects are mostly high in protein and a good nutritional source.
"We need to figure out a way to get some water," Peter said. "Relying on food alone won't suffice, it's best to find a stable water source."
"Even if there was a stable water source, it wouldn't be for us." Shiller sighed, struggling with the guinea pig in his mouth, walking with difficulty. Fortunately, the nearby animals were all frightened away, allowing them to drag it back slowly.
For animals, drinking water was always a troublesome affair. Besides the possible predators at the water's edge, there's danger within the water as well. The crocodile they saw fighting before was likely amphibious. Even if they found a pond, approaching it wouldn't be wise.
"Previously, there were some broadleaf plants over there," Shiller pondered aloud, "perhaps we can process them into bowls and collect some rainwater. It should rain frequently here."
Peter nodded. The climate here was quite humid, and it wouldn't have a low rainfall, making drinking rainwater safer than pond water. As for sanitation, there's really no room for concern right now.
After much effort, they finally dragged the food to the base of the tree. The two cats were too exhausted to drag it up any further, so Peter climbed up to call the other two cats down. It was already midnight; Little Superman and Constantine were somewhat hungry. They ate to their satisfaction, consuming an entire guinea pig.
Shiller dragged the remaining bones and other leftovers a bit farther away to avoid the scent attracting predators. Meanwhile, Peter and the other two cats hauled the centipede up for storage.
Worried it might be eaten by birds hanging from a branch, they decided to drag the centipede back into the hollow. Since the hollow was spacious, besides the sleeping area at the bottom, there was more room above. Peter and Constantine cooperatively found a tree branch of just the right length, wedged it at the top of the hollow to hang the centipede, keeping the space free.
Elsewhere, Shiller dragged the remnants towards the glowing centipede's area. Logically, carnivorous centipedes should consume these; he wasn't intending to feed the centipedes but wanted to try attracting the large centipede out, then explore its lair.
The interest in the centipede's lair wasn't solely to catch small centipedes; Shiller faintly perceived the centipede's dwelling seemed more like a pipe, and not naturally formed, resembling a human-made structure.
Moreover, the centipede's modifications were peculiar—lighting isn't favorable for nocturnal creatures. They rely on information asymmetry, able to see prey, unseen by them, sneaking up for a fatal blow. But shining a light would beacon the way for the prey, making it easily noticed.
Even if the centipede were diurnal, the disadvantages outweigh the advantages—there are many diurnal predators, glowing blue like that, who wouldn't eat you? This seems less like evolution and more like some mutation, differing from pure enhancement of other creatures. Shiller believed this anomaly could be a breakthrough. However, at this stage, venturing into the centipede's cave remains too risky, so he only planned to take a close look.
After placing the leftovers outside the shrubbery, Shiller circled from the other side, first climbing a nearby low tree, squatting on top waiting for the centipede to leave. Shortly after, the centipede came crawling out, seemingly not attracted by the food but simply patrolling or hunting.
But it quickly found the leftover food placed there. The cats' mouth structures weren't well-suited for gnawing, consuming mainly the innards and larger chunks of meat, leaving smaller pieces messy. Thus, while debris for them, it's a feast for other animals. The large centipede didn't contemplate much, devouring the food eagerly.
Shiller stealthily leapt down, ensuring that inside the nest there was only one large centipede, then sneakily slipped into the centipede's lair. Beneath the shrubbery was actually a dirt nest, faintly emitting a glow. The entrance was overly round, unlikely dug by a centipede-type creature. Stepping inside confirmed the nest walls weren't soil but some alloy sheeting.
Because the centipede itself is quite large, adding its leg length makes it much bigger than a cat, so Shiller had no trouble going inside. He heard the dense rubbing sounds within, which he had anticipated, but seeing so many small centipedes tangled together still made his fur stand slightly on end. The scene was truly creepy.
Shiller took a deep breath, shook his ears, and continued to walk stealthily inside. It was almost completely blocked by small centipedes, so he didn't dare to directly open his mouth and bite, as he might end up being besieged. Don't be fooled by the big centipede being gone; among these small ones, there were mutated ones — a single bite from one could be unbearable.
But the glowing component was right in front of him, looking like something very important. After a brief hesitation, Shiller decided to retreat. He knew the big centipede wouldn't eat for too long and would choose to save some to drag back to its lair for its kids to eat. Driving away these small centipedes would take too much time, so he had to wait a bit longer.
As he left, Shiller no longer tiptoed but instead sprinted out at full speed. Sure enough, as soon as he reached the exit, the big centipede was already in sight. Shiller shot forward and then jumped, landing above the bushes. The big centipede was in hot pursuit; Shiller jumped down again, slipped through the gaps in the bushes, and climbed the nearest tree.
But as luck would have it, centipedes also excel at climbing trees. The metallic steps shimmered with a wave-like glow in the night, giving it a sort of orderly beauty. Shiller seemed to be reminded of something, but there was no time for distractions. He darted to the top of the tree with the fastest speed, and as the centipede climbed up, he leapt to the other side.
In the instant he jumped down, the centipede lost sight of him, and by the time it chased from this direction, Shiller had already hidden in the bushes. He ran ahead as fast as he could until his strength was completely exhausted, then hid in a tuft of grass, panting heavily.
But just then, the ground started vibrating once again, slightly different from the last time; perhaps it was a new creature. With his limbs feeling somewhat sluggish, Shiller climbed up the tree again. He didn't even have time to see what was running below; he was solely focused on catching his breath.
Indeed, a housecat is only considered a small animal killer in urban environments; thrown into a primal jungle, it's not much to look at. Admittedly, there was a certain thrilling sensation while being chased by the centipede, but after jumping around for so long, even maxing out adrenaline wasn't enough. If another crisis arose, Shiller would have to activate his innate ability.
He was not entirely sure if his ability to become excited when injured could still be activated. Mainly because in such a primal environment, being injured might very well lead to death; just the infection risk from a wound was a huge issue. Even having a companion help test it posed certain dangers.
However, the incident of Little Superman's tail getting injured gave Shiller some inspiration. Getting bitten by these bigwigs wouldn't leave much chance of survival, but if stung by something like a bee, as long as the toxin could be digested, it would be just pain without serious side effects. Little Superman's mobility was similarly unaffected, making it the best testing method.
After resting on the tree for a while, Shiller finally caught his breath. He slowly climbed down, still feeling a bit shaky in his limbs. Luckily, in the later half of the night, the jungle had quieted down more. He leisurely walked back to the large tree, and before he could climb up, he saw three pairs of little lights on the branches side by side. The three cats were waiting for him.
Shiller slowly climbed up but was too tired to speak. He reached the base of the tree hole, curled up his body, and fell asleep as soon as his eyes closed. That night he felt a few vibrations again, then some very faint but fragmented noises. He felt cold, but quickly warmed up again. Upon waking, he found the other three cats encircling him, all sound asleep.
Shiller lifted his head to take a glance outside the hole. He wasn't sure what time it was, but the light was not very bright. Dense moisture surged in; listening carefully to the sounds, he realized it might be raining.
As a cat, on rainy days you can only stay home and sleep. After all, once your fur gets wet, its warmth retention is significantly reduced. In such weather, prey usually doesn't come out; the rhythm of wild animals' lives isn't as fast as many people imagine — when encountering severe weather, they often take a break for several days.
Finding the weather unfit to go out, Shiller lay back down and continued sleeping. Maybe the fatigue from yesterday was quite harsh; when he woke up from that nap, the rain had already stopped. Constantine and Peter were nowhere to be seen, and Little Superman was busy licking Shiller's fur.
Yesterday, in his frenetic escape from the centipede, Shiller's body had picked up quite a bit of leaves and dirt from the bushes. Everyone was too tired to clean up, but now, Little Superman had mostly cleaned him up. The bed was indeed very soft, providing a very comfortable sleep.
"Thank you so much," Shiller sighed deeply, "Where are those two? Out hunting?"
"Yes, the centipede was eaten this morning. I saved a piece for you." Little Superman pulled out a section of centipede from behind and placed it in front of Shiller.