The first thing Jin learned about being a tree was this:
Stillness did not mean safety.
The ground pulsed again—slow, rhythmic, heavy. Whatever approached was large enough that its presence traveled through the soil and into Jin's roots like a dull echo. Each vibration carried intent, not random movement like animals or wind. This was something purposeful.
Predator, Jin thought.
[Alert: Host detected elevated hostile presence.]
"Oh, great," Jin muttered internally. "Now you warn me."
The forest grew quieter as the thing drew nearer. Birds scattered. Small animals fled, their frantic movement sending sharp signals through the earth. Jin couldn't see them clearly, but his awareness mapped their panic instinctively.
Then it emerged.
A beast stepped into the clearing—low to the ground, massive shoulders rolling beneath coarse, dark fur. Its head was elongated, jaws lined with thick, uneven teeth stained brown and red. Yellow eyes gleamed with dull hunger.
It sniffed the air.
Jin felt the sensation ripple through his bark like a cold draft.
It smells blood, Jin realized. The man… the blood soaked into the ground.
The beast's gaze passed over Jin without interest.
"Good," Jin thought. "Just keep walking."
The beast did not keep walking.
It lowered its head and sniffed at the base of Jin's trunk, nose brushing dangerously close to his roots. Jin's thoughts screamed in protest, but his body remained immobile, helpless.
[Warning: Root integrity at risk.]
"What do you want me to do?" Jin snapped mentally. "Run?"
The beast snorted and scraped the ground with a claw, digging into the soil where blood had seeped earlier. Jin felt pain—not sharp, but deep and wrong—as one of his outer roots was torn loose.
If Jin had lungs, he would have screamed.
[Vitality loss detected.]
The beast growled, encouraged by the scent. With a sudden, brutal motion, it bit down on Jin's trunk.
Pain exploded.
It wasn't like human pain. There was no nerve-ending agony, no burning sting. It was a vast, crushing sensation, like being split open from the inside. Jin felt fibers tear, sap spill, and something essential leak away.
"Get off!" Jin shouted in his mind, rage and terror blending into something desperate.
Instinct surged.
Something inside him responded.
[Trait activation: Minor Vitality Absorption.]
Jin didn't understand how he did it—there were no muscles to flex, no limbs to move—but his roots tightened. They spread wider, deeper, gripping the earth like claws. Where the beast's blood dripped onto the soil from its biting jaws, Jin pulled.
The effect was immediate.
The beast froze mid-bite, letting out a confused snarl. Its body stiffened as a faint red glow pulsed beneath its fur, drawn downward like smoke being inhaled by the ground.
"What—" Jin thought, shocked. "I'm draining it?"
The sensation was intoxicating.
Warmth flooded Jin's trunk, flowing upward, repairing torn fibers and hardening his bark. The pain dulled, replaced by something closer to hunger being satisfied.
The beast roared, releasing Jin and staggering backward. Its movements slowed, eyes dimming as vitality was ripped from it against its will.
[Vitality intake increasing.]
[Root contact optimized.]
Jin didn't stop.
Fear turned into focus.
"If you're going to eat me," Jin thought coldly, "then I'm going to eat you first."
The roots nearest the surface thickened, pushing upward slightly, tearing through soil like pale, wooden serpents. They wrapped around the beast's legs, crude and slow but relentless.
The beast thrashed, claws ripping through earth, teeth snapping wildly. It tore free of one root, then another, but each movement only caused more blood to spill into the soil.
Jin drank it in.
Minutes passed—long, brutal minutes—until the beast collapsed, too weak to stand. Its chest rose once… twice… and then stopped.
Silence returned.
Jin's awareness buzzed, overwhelmed by the sudden influx of energy.
[Large vitality source absorbed.]
[Growth threshold reached.]
[Evolution opportunity available.]
Jin barely processed the message before his entire being ignited.
Light flared around his trunk—not blinding, but intense, like moonlight condensed into fire. His roots expanded violently, cracking stone and pushing deeper. His bark darkened, thickened, veins of faint green luminescence tracing along it.
The sensation wasn't painful.
It was euphoric.
[Evolution complete.]
[Species update: Bloodroot Sapling.]
[Growth Stage: Juvenile.]
Jin felt… bigger.
Not taller yet, but more solid. More real.
"Bloodroot Sapling," Jin repeated. "That sounds ominous."
[Species trait acquired: Blood Sense.]
[Blood Sense: Detects bleeding organic entities within a limited radius.]
Jin tested it instinctively.
The forest lit up in his awareness.
Tiny points of warmth marked insects, small animals, creatures hidden beneath leaves and soil. Larger, brighter pulses pulsed farther away—predators, prey, something wounded limping through underbrush miles off.
And further still…
Something wrong.
A distant, heavy presence that made Jin's bark tighten uneasily.
"That doesn't feel friendly," Jin thought.
[Caution advised.]
For the first time since his reincarnation, Jin felt something close to control.
He still couldn't move.
He was still rooted.
But he wasn't helpless anymore.
Hours passed. The sun dipped lower, shadows stretching across the clearing. The corpse of the beast lay half-entangled in Jin's roots, slowly being drained of what little vitality remained.
Jin found that he could choose how much he absorbed. When he pulled too hard, the energy became turbulent, almost painful. Moderation felt better—cleaner.
So this is how I survive, Jin thought. Not by running… but by waiting.
A strange thought followed.
Am I becoming a monster?
The system did not answer.
Night fell.
The forest transformed.
Sounds multiplied—chirps, howls, rustling movements that felt sharper, more dangerous. Jin's Blood Sense lit up repeatedly as creatures hunted and died all around him.
Twice, something approached his clearing and stopped, sensing danger.
Both times, they left.
Jin realized then that the beast's corpse was sending a message—a warning soaked into the soil.
This place kills back.
As dawn approached, Jin felt another change.
A pressure deep within his trunk, building steadily.
[Passive growth accumulating.]
[Stored vitality nearing capacity.]
"What happens if I overflow?" Jin asked.
[Excess vitality will be released or converted.]
"Converted into what?"
[Unknown. Dependent on host choice.]
Choice.
That word lingered.
Jin focused inward, on the warmth circulating through him. He imagined directing it—not outward to feed, but inward, to change.
"I want to grow smarter," Jin decided. "Not just stronger."
The system paused for a fraction of a second.
[Directive acknowledged.]
[Vitality conversion initiated: Cognitive Enhancement.]
The world sharpened.
Jin's awareness expanded, details snapping into clarity. Patterns emerged—movement paths, scent trails, rhythms of the forest. He could predict where animals would pass, where blood would be spilled.
Understanding replaced instinct.
"This world…" Jin murmured. "It runs on survival."
A memory surfaced—Jake's frozen face, the truck's headlights, the moment Jin chose to act.
"If this is the world I'm stuck in," Jin thought firmly, "then I'll survive it. As a tree… or whatever I become next."
Far away, that heavy presence shifted again.
Closer now.
And for the first time, Jin felt something else in response:
Anticipation.