Zzzzz.
Phewwaaaah.
Ahhh, that was a good sleep.
So good, in fact, that I overslept to the point of feeling groggy.
Being able to sleep without a care really is wonderful, isn't it?
How long did I sleep, anyway?
In my previous life, I averaged about four hours of sleep a night.
This feels the same as that time I collapsed from anemia due to sleep deprivation and spent the whole day in bed.
But I'm a spider now, not a human, so the physical experience must be different. There's no way to know exactly how much time has passed.
Hmm, I really want a clock.
How long has it even been since I was born?
Subjectively, it feels like two or three days.
Inside a Dungeon, there's no way to tell day from night.
I don't know the calendar of this world, and there's no guarantee a day here is twenty-four hours either.
A year is the period it takes Earth to orbit the Sun, and a day is the time it takes Earth to complete one rotation on its axis.
The odds of this world being the exact same size as Earth with the exact same orbital period are basically zero, statistically speaking.
Well, that's all assuming a physical interpretation. If you go with the occult angle — parallel worlds, or another world that operates under completely different laws of the universe — then it's not impossible.
There's no way to verify it, though.
Someday I might leave this Dungeon, but for now, let me enjoy this lazy life to the fullest.
Well, just lying around doing nothing is a bit boring too, so let me think about some of the mysteries I've been putting off.
First things first: why did I die?
Actually, now that I think about it, the assumption that I died is just something I believe.
I've convinced myself that I died, got reincarnated, and became a spider, but I don't actually have any memory of dying.
Hmm?
The last thing I remember was Classical Japanese class, I think.
Was it when the teacher everyone calls Oka-chan was reading a passage from the classics out loud?
I was dozing off, and then suddenly there was an excruciating pain, and after that — nothing.
If I did die, that mysterious pain was probably the cause, but even the cause of the pain is a mystery.
The most plausible scenario is still the one where I died from that pain and was reincarnated as a spider.
Another possibility is that I'm not actually dead, and my soul merely possessed a spider.
My original body might still be lying in a hospital bed in a vegetative state.
An even wilder thought — what if I'm actually a complete stranger who just happens to have this person's memories?
The real me might still be attending class like normal right now.
Hmm.
Once I start thinking about it, there's no end to it.
How would I even prove that I'm not really me?
I am me because I am me — or something equally nonsensical.
When the most plausible theory is that something as ridiculous as reincarnation actually happened, you've already thrown common sense out the window.
For now, I'll put this question on hold.
In the spirit of "I think, therefore I am," I'll assume I am me and carry on.
Next, my current body.
A spider's body is actually pretty convenient.
I can move all eight legs freely, and I'm more agile than I ever was as a human.
I can climb walls, and if I push it, I can even walk along the ceiling.
If I had to list drawbacks, it would be the lack of hands and the fact that when I want to look behind me, I have to flip my entire body around.
Not having hands is quite inconvenient.
I can sort of use my front legs as substitutes, but they'll never match the precision of human hands.
After all, the tips of my legs are sharp, single-clawed structures. Of course they can't replicate a human's fingers.
It's dangerous, and there's no way they can do what fingers do.
It's inconvenient, but things have been working out so far, so I just have to accept it and move on.
Now then — the bigger issue is the other one.
I can't see behind me.
This is actually pretty dangerous.
A spider's neck is fused to its torso, so there's no "turning your head to look back" function.
I have decent vision to both sides, thanks to having so many eyes, so I can see a pretty wide range.
But not being able to see behind me means I'm vulnerable to sneak attacks from the rear.
My countermeasure for that is to use silk.
Given my body's structure, if it's impossible to monitor what's behind me visually, I have no choice but to rely on other senses.
Specifically, I'll always keep silk threads strung out behind me so I can sense what's there by feeling the vibrations.
Well, easier said than done, I'm sure.
I'll practice this later.
As long as I'm holed up in My Home, I probably won't be ambushed anytime soon, but better safe than sorry.
Finally, Skills.
There are still plenty of minor questions, but this covers the last big one.
What exactly are Skills?
Thinking in game terms, a Skill is essentially talent, or maybe a technique.
Having Skills expands what you can do.
But I don't know what place Skills hold in this world, so let's not go down that road.
What matters are the Skills I currently have and the ones I might acquire in the future.
My confirmed Skills, as of right now, are three: "Appraisal LV1," "Acid Resistance LV2," and "Poison Resistance LV2."
I obtained Appraisal by spending Skill Points.
These Skill Points are yet another mystery.
I used all my points to get Appraisal, but I have no idea how to earn more.
In games, you sometimes get them from leveling up, but I don't even know if the concept of Levels exists in this world, so I can't count on that.
Maybe they accumulate over time, or maybe they're gained by consuming something.
Worst case scenario, they might not increase at all.
What if Skill Points are innate — a fixed pool tied to your soul, and once spent, they're gone for good?
That would be a huge blow.
I really hope that's not the case.