[Dwelling]. I knew about that skill already. I was familiar with its functioning. It was a splendid ability. The way the skill all worked still was quite extraordinary to me, however. Or let's rather say remarkable. Remarkable and curious. Right. So much so that, if I didn't already have a good understanding of my own might and power—I would come to fully grasp the utterly grand effect of my techniques now. I knew the facts, already.
I was an odd creature. I was different and worked in a dramatically different way than other creatures and people. But hey, how odd and different could I—the same stupid unique monster who didn't know better but spawn in a human settlement—actually be? What would follow would let me have a little taste of just how peculiar I was.
People all had abilities, competences, and techniques. Skills, basically. Different ways and methods to attack an enemy. Though skills weren't the only principle you had to know to be a master mana-wielder, the mastering of competences and their uses amounted to a lot by itself. People had such abilities. They either came naturally or they had to get down to it and learn them.
At present, the skills I'd be dealing with were of the first category: my skills, in particular, came naturally to me. No master had taught said skills to me. In a way, my competences were mine and only mine. That's why a bunch of them were labeled 'unique'. These unique skills, though I would only come to learn more about them in the future (at the present moment, who was I to teach myself anything?), I still had them at hand, and hence, got to use them.
[Dwelling], then. Let's not even mention the other abilities—Grand Devourer, Advanced Evolving, Copying, Jelly-like Shapelessness, Resistant Body, etc.—I was granted with my life. For the present moment, and things were totally out of my control, the Dwelling passive, and the power it allowed me to wield, was a sufficiently complex enough skill. So, anyway, how odd and different could I, the unique monster, actually be? Well, to answer that, let's simply say that as soon as I got myself involved with the dark back alley, I was in for a fun ride.
After the two brothers ran off on their own, leaving their Tiny Bro brother behind, taking over the boy's body, and making a Receptacle of it, wasn't so difficult a task. It was actually no trouble at all, if I may say. I just had to perform the usual deal: Take off of the no-longer-usable Receptacle. Then find another suitable one. And then climb into the new Receptacle's skin, slipping inside as casually as possible.
The boy who'd just been abandoned had also been knocked out, by now. Those were my unusual abilities, and before I created what the System called my 'Character', I'd have to live like this, apparently. Jump from one Receptacle to the other. To both 'ensure survival', as the System would have it, and 'proceed with the Quest'. Anyway, with three little steps, I had my new Receptacle, with which I'd go and— No. For the night, my plans with trouble still weren't all over and done.
Before the monster's shapeless body of water could climb in the new Receptacle, a dog came rushing my way. It leaped off the dark out of nowhere. The dark back alley was just like that. From deeper across the ocean of dark the somber alley contained, trouble was brought forth, again and again. The trouble of the present moment was what seemed to be a mad dog, which had heard the commotion of earlier.
Leaping at me, growling and snarling, the shapeless body of water—and the System—confused the dog for a Receptacle. Oh, did I confuse the dog for a Receptacle, or could it qualify as one too, rather? To my senses, a stray and potentially dangerous dog had just appeared. To the wild dog's senses, a fresh, helpless lump of meat had just swung by. So, at any rate, before the mad dog could do anything drastic to the fine bag of human meat I left behind, a notification from the System rang out.
It simply said a new Receptacle had been found. So, leaving aside the human boy perfectly knocked out and unconscious, my somewhat human-like-shaped body of water swiftly climbed into the dog's skin. And that was a done deal. I had obtained the new Receptacle I needed. I was all good and cool. Except: no. First off, I became a beast for real, now, and secondly, right away, the System issued another notification to me.
It read 'A humanoid (non-demi-human) Receptacle is needed to proceed with the Quest. The Player has to find a humanoid Receptacle before proceeding.' So, even though I could just barely understand the System's curt speech, I knew my current Receptacle only was trouble, too. The Receptacle I'd snatched was unfit.
Leaping backward with a bolt, the wild dog bounced off the prized bag of meat. The dog was clearly startled. What's more, upon landing, for some reason, it had a hard time even standing. Its four legs trembled awkwardly, and the dog cocked its head to the side. With a gruff groan, the stray dog barked in surprise.
What the heck happened to me, I thought, only realizing now what the current Receptacle was. I had a wagging tail, four legs, fluffy ears, a muzzle, warm fur, and a confused dog look on my face. Some sort of german shepherd? Crap, I had a hard time even standing up. My two—no, four legs trembled, struggling to let me stand. I wasn't used to that body at all, but with a bit of effort, it came naturally to me and I was habile. Once I was fully aware of my situation, I groaned and let out a dog sigh. "Whaaa… haaas… happen'd?"
Woah— Freaky.
With a husky, dull voice, I could barely get words together properly, but I nonetheless could talk. In front of me, through a dog's eyes—I blinked twice—I saw a black-haired swordsman, lying flat on his stomach, looking like he was having the best dream of his life, and right beside that swordsman was a meager young child, lying on his flank, totally unconscious.
"Aaar…you…ooo…kay?" Man, that toneless, slow dull voice of a dog would definitely creep people out. Where would I go from now? Right off the bat—that was what I was waiting for—I obtained two skills in spite of myself. Some Enhanced Flair Passive Skill, the System said. Was that because I subconsciously came to put my muzzle down in search of a way out? I couldn't tell right away, and the System wouldn't let me ponder on that matter. Right away, again, another notification rang out: I just learned the Resistance to Cold.
Immediately, I was then informed, again by the System, that this 'Irritated Dog, level 3, Canine' Receptacle was being overloaded by the Player's magical energy. Being overloaded with magic basically meant I, the unique monster, couldn't be contained within such a weak Receptacle, but I would only learn about that later. I was too powerful for the Dwelling skill to be entirely effective, in that case. Put it simply, you could imagine a little water tank—I could be poured inside of the container, but then inevitably spill out of it.
That was basically what happened… but it wasn't important anyway. All in all, because the Receptacle was too weak, it only meant death. In a second, the Irritated Dog mob's envelope was burned to the ground, engulfed in bright, white flames—and that was it. I was finished. Or more like the Receptacle was. Though crazy all of that might have been, I decided to stay nonchalant about it. As a matter of fact, was it all that crazy? I didn't think so.
And the show wasn't over yet. From the sky, then, by chance, a white owl dived down into the dark alley, snatching up a rat from the street. The unusual monster, me, wouldn't let the occasion pass and climbed into the owl's skin. The System had detected another Receptacle, after all. Wasn't that what I needed to get? At any rate, even while I couldn't tell why I did that, my instincts only yelled at me to 'Seize the new Receptacle.'
Again, however, the same two notifications were issued: The Receptacle was unfit because it was no humanoid body, which meant the System couldn't proceed with the Quest. Also, the current Receptacle was far too weak to contain the Player's power. But anyway, the owl had already flown out in the sky, diving up into the dark canopy of stars above, with a rat in its claws. Above the closest roof, right next to the back alley, the owl decided it would land and— Before long, I, the flying owl, screeched in panic with enormous eyes, peering all around me as I fell with my whole body paralyzed. You know the drill—the Receptacle was unfit and overloaded in mana. That's why it would now burn and be engulfed in white flames.
A second passed and I hit the ground head-on. A light Thud was emitted. The System notified me that I failed to learn the skill 'Wings (Owl)'. That was unfortunate. And I was still too busy thinking about the heck how it was that I became an owl to pay any attention to the notifications. Before I burned to a crisp, and I felt the pain, by the way, I obtained two skills: Resistance to Pain +1 and Night Vision.
Tonight was a crazy night in a crazy town. On the roof I landed on, with my owl body paralyzed and unusable, a cat must have overheard the little commotion. From between shadows, a black, sneaky cat was produced. It was first wary of what happened, but after it asserted no danger roamed about, it quickly skipped to the owl and found the rat I—or rather, the owl had just secured. And so the cat leaped at the rat when I leaped at the cat. Another Receptacle.
Standing on four legs wasn't so laborious a task, then. I had mastered the art with the dog. And still, when I opened my cat eyes and felt the cornered rat beneath my paw, I cocked my head to the side and meowed in interrogation.
My cat tail irritatedly and jerkily waved from side to side. Annoyed, I hissed.
Turning a suspicious eye to my surroundings, I decided to bounce off at once. Seizing the living rat between my cat's jaws and teeth, the cat swiftly got back into the shadows it came from. Once I was well-hidden, however, the shadows I took refuge in all promptly vanished. White burning flames engulfed me and brightly lit up the dark rooftop. Soon, the System acknowledged even the rat as a Receptacle. From the cat, I failed to learn many competences. The reason was that I already learned Night Vision before, so rather than learn a new competence, the two different skills were combined as only one Night Vision Passive Skill. Also, the active skill Intimidating Hissing (Cat) was not learned as I already acquired some Intimidation skill. Of new competences, I learned Claw and Sharp Ear.
But who had time to stop and think of that? The next thing I knew, I became a rat and crawled my way into some hole I found, on top of the same roof. There, squeaking, sweating, and chuckling as it all started to amuse me, the rat was engulfed in white flames again—I inherited some Resistance to Ailment skill. That Receptacle was a rat from the filthiest back alley, so naturally, it showed through the skill I just obtained.
As I crawled into the whole anyway, I was completely wrapped in a mess of spider webs. The hole had apparently been inhabited by some giant, hairy spiders of sorts. Catching up on the little fella's presence, I leaped forward deeper into the hole and secured myself yet another funky Receptacle. Producing cobwebs, I learned Knit Neat Cobweb and scrambled further down the drainage pipe I just entered. The hole went down and down from the rooftop, directly back into the dark back alley.
It was then that I understood how versatile my [Dwelling] Passive Skill could be. Drooling at how many different techniques I could get in the future, I rejoiced and let out some happy-spider-noises. Tonight had been like living a bizarre dream. And, for better or worse, just like everyone had to wake up, every dream had to end. For now, I was just a rookie at living a good life. In the future, I hoped I'd be a pro at it. And see how, under tonight's starry sky, I had made ample use of the Dwelling skill so versatilely?
With more control over my powers, there was no telling what the skill's full potential was. What wonders I could pull out with this ability, not to mention all the other Unique Skills I had.
I had only little control over the skill, at the present moment, after all. And with that in mind, after the current Receptacle 'Rooftop Giant Poisonous Spider, level 4, Arachnid' was fully overloaded and burned to a crisp, I, the unique monster, was back in the dark back alley and got back to the matter at hand. There was an unconscious boy lying next to a swordsman. The swordsman seemed to be strangling the boy in his sleep. Approaching the two humans, I slipped under the boy's skin. That Receptacle was the one I initially planned to capture, and it wasn't so unfit, thankfully. In a second, I'd come to.