A thin, white thread stretches between my two front legs.
Pull it outward, and it goes *nyoon*, stretching long.
Let the tension go, and it gradually returns to its original length.
Yep.
Just as planned — it's become rubber-like.
What am I doing, you ask?
Well, since I figured out that Spider Silk is a Skill, I've been running a few experiments while grinding Proficiency.
Up until now, I'd only ever used the silk for spinning webs and restraining prey caught in them.
So even though it's my own ability, I honestly didn't know all that much about the thread, huh.
Huh?
Leave My Home and go level up?
No way, no way.
Right after leveling up, I was all hyped for a bit, but once I calmed down, I started thinking — is that really feasible?
Think about it.
A girl whose only talent is video games — you think she could win in a real fight?
No way, no way.
Sure, my body might be a Monster, but if the thing driving it is useless, what's the point?
There's a world of difference between gaming and actually moving your body around.
A game character never gets tired, but in real life, the more you move, the more exhausted you get.
And in my previous life, I was the kind of kid who got winded just walking to school.
Against real Monsters surviving on wild instinct, could I actually fight and win?
I don't think so.
I might not be completely incapable, but if failure equals death for me, it's a risk I'd rather avoid.
In that case, spinning webs and waiting for some poor prey to stumble into the trap has a way better success rate.
It's safer, and far more efficient than wandering aimlessly through the Dungeon.
I'm sure the day will come when I'll have to venture out from My Home, but I'd rather raise my level a bit more and secure a comfortable safety margin first.
In online games, I was the type to run wild with an absurdly high-risk romantic build, but in other RPGs, my style was always to grind levels like crazy early on.
Power-leveling until you can take down the boss while humming a tune — that's the real thrill.
Especially now, where my actual life is on the line. I'm going to play it careful until I'm confident I can beat other Monsters.
And right now, part of that level grind means raising the Proficiency of my Spider Silk Skill.
Come to think of it, this Spider Silk is my lifeline.
I shudder just imagining what it would be like if I'd never been able to build My Home and was still wandering the Dungeon.
In that scenario, I probably wouldn't have survived, would I?
I wouldn't be able to rest easy, and I wouldn't be able to hunt prey either.
The fact that I can live this comfortably right now is all thanks to Spider Silk.
When I think about it that way, raising the level of Spider Silk becomes an absolute priority.
I'm not sure exactly what would change with each concrete level-up, but there's no downside to raising it.
So rather than just pumping out threads mindlessly to grind Proficiency, I figured I'd use the opportunity to experiment and learn more about the thread's properties.
I started by just outputting thread in bulk, then tested adjustments to thickness, stickiness, strength, and elasticity.
Adjusting the thickness was surprisingly easy.
When I tried to make it thinner, I could get it really fine.
I couldn't make it invisible-thin, obviously, but I could get it down to about the width of a hair.
In the darkness of this Dungeon, even that thinness should be pretty much invisible.
However, the strength experiment I ran afterward revealed a trade-off — the thinner the thread, the easier it snaps.
Well, that's just how it goes.
Makes sense that thinner means more fragile.
If my Level goes up, maybe the strength will improve too. I'll keep my hopes up on that.
Conversely, making it thicker increases its strength.
The thickest thread I can currently produce is about 2 centimeters in diameter.
Pretty much a normal rope, I'd say.
Of course, that's just the max I can do in my default state. If I really wanted it thicker, I could bundle multiple strands together to make it much, much wider.
That'd take more effort, though.
The stickiness experiment is one I honestly wish I'd skipped.
People tend to assume all spider silk is sticky, but in reality, there are threads with no adhesive properties at all.
Spiders manage to avoid getting caught in their own webs precisely by skillfully using those non-sticky threads.
I already understood that instinctively when I first spun my web.
But I wanted to learn more about it in depth, so I ran some experiments — and sure enough, I ended up completely tangled up in myself.
Yeah. Uh-huh.
So the fact that I need to differentiate between sticky and non-sticky silk means that if I don't, I'll get caught in my own threads.
And yours truly, like an idiot, got trapped in silk that she herself had produced.
I panicked.
If I hadn't realized in time that I could reduce the stickiness even after deploying the thread, I would've died in the most idiotic way imaginable — caught in my own trap.
I also discovered that the thread I produce from my abdomen can have its properties altered to some degree while it's still connected to me.
After that, I tested whether I could change the properties of thread that had been detached from my abdomen, and found that minor adjustments were possible.
Alright, composing myself — let's verify the strength.
I confirmed that thin thread is fragile and thick thread is sturdy, but unfortunately, I couldn't determine exactly how much force it could withstand.
Why not?
Because even at maximum strength, the thread wouldn't snap no matter how much force I applied.
Here's the terrifying part — I couldn't even cut it by biting down with my fangs.
If something got tangled in this thread, yeah, it wouldn't be getting out anytime soon.
Of course, if it were a Monster stronger than me, it might be able to tear through it, so I shouldn't get cocky.
And the result of the final elasticity experiment is this thread currently going *boing boing* in front of me.
Yep.
This rubber-like silk seems pretty useful.
If I tied a decent-sized rock to it, I could probably use it as a simple sling.
I'm sure it has plenty of other practical applications too.
I'm extremely satisfied with the experimental results.
But even after all this, my Level didn't go up.
On top of that, a pretty serious problem cropped up.
The more thread I output, the more energy I consume.
Which meant that even though it hadn't been that long since I'd eaten a frog, I was already ravenously hungry.
It's not like my energy efficiency is bad or anything, but when using large amounts of silk, I'd better make sure my stomach is full — otherwise things could get dicey.