Just give up.

Seriously.

There are moments in life when the situation becomes so utterly hopeless that all you can do is accept it. When the walls close in, when every path leads to a dead end, when fate itself seems to have written your final chapter - sometimes, the only peace comes from simply saying "it is what it is" and letting go.

Finding yourself in the depths of a dungeon, woefully unprepared, staring into eight crimson eyes that seem to pierce your very soul - eyes belonging to a monster that could snuff out your life as easily as snuffing out a candle - well, that's certainly one of those moments.

It was simply too much in one day.

The morning had started so perfectly though. He'd slept better than he had in years, the kind of deep, restful sleep that made him feel truly alive again. The pancakes had been golden, the bacon crisp, the tea rich and dark. For one brief, beautiful moment, everything had felt right with the world.

Then, two hours ago, he'd been drowning in water that wasn't quite water. An hour ago, he'd been dragging himself through black sand while desert worms hunted beneath his feet. Thirty minutes ago, he'd been fighting for his life against scaled predators that could turn invisible at will.

And now this...

Adom wanted to laugh. Or scream. Or both.

What was even the point? Fight one monster, only to face another. Survive one death trap, only to fall into the next. The universe had made its position clear - he wasn't meant to walk out of this dungeon alive.

Maybe it was time to accept that.

Maybe...

The spider moved closer, its legs making no sound as they touched the stone. Its mandibles clicked together.

...This did not feel right.

To be quite honest, he was getting tired of having these profound moments of acceptance. Twice in one day was pushing it, even for him.

No.

Fuck acceptance. Fuck fate. And especially fuck this overgrown arachnid with its symmetric eyes and fancy patterns.

Fight.

Yes. That was more like it.

Fight with every fiber of your being. Fight like each breath could be your last, because it probably will be. If death wants you, make it work for its prize. Take that eight-legged bastard with you if you can, or at least leave it with scars so deep that every time it looks at them, it remembers the human who did this.

[Indomitable Will] blazed to life.

[Spiteful Fighting Spirit] answered its call.

And Adom was on fire. Literally and figuratively.

It started small - a desperate spark of [Flame] that caught on a single strand of webbing near his wrist. For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then the web caught.

The fire raced along the silvery strands like lightning through storm clouds, transforming the pristine white into angry orange in the blink of an eye. The heat hit him first - not unbearable, but present, like standing too close to a forge. Then came the smell: acrid, chemical, nothing like normal spider silk should smell like.

[-1 Life Force]

The burning sensation wrapped around his neck where the web had been particularly thick. Adom grit his teeth, forcing more power into the flames. If some burns were the price of freedom, so be it.

The spider recoiled, its massive form backing away from the expanding inferno. Its movements were precise, calculated - no panic, just... assessment. Those eight eyes reflected the dancing flames like blood-red mirrors, and Adom could swear he saw something like surprise in them.

[-2 Life Force]

The web around his thigh caught next, and this time the pain was sharper, more insistent. But with it came movement - the strands were weakening, turning to ash. Each breath brought in smoke and the taste of burning chemicals and desert walker, making his eyes water and his lungs protest.

The cave's ceiling disappeared behind a veil of black smoke. Good. Let it burn. Let it all burn.

[-1 Life Force]

More webs caught fire, spreading across the cave's intricate network of strands like a wave of destruction. The spider's carefully crafted trap was becoming its own prison, forcing it further back, away from the heat that threatened to singe its limbs.

Adom's arms came free first, then his torso. The web around his legs took longer, and each second felt like an eternity of controlled burning.

[-1 Life Force]

His throat was raw from the smoke, his skin angry and red where the burning web had touched it. But he was moving. Free.

The smoke billowed and swirled, but not randomly - it danced towards the far corner of the cave like an arrow pointing the way out. Basic dungeon knowledge: follow the draft, find the exit. Simple. If only.

Between coughs that threatened to tear his lungs apart, Adom spotted the massive silhouette shifting through the smoke. The spider was positioning itself between him and freedom.

I need a plan...

His mana reserves were limited, and the worst thing that could happen was to have them depleted after a powerful spell, without being sure it would actually hurt the spider. He noticed the flames had not even burned it, but it seemed afraid of them.

Pure strength? Against something that could probably bench-press a house? Not likely. Running? Those legs weren't for show, and he'd seen how fast it could move. He needed time. Space. A distraction.

The idea of the golem knight in his inventory suddenly felt very promising.

Cavalry it is, then.

The golem materializing in a flash and charged forward without hesitation, its heavy footsteps thundering against the cave floor...

...and then it was flying. Not charging, not running - flying. Like a child's toy thrown by a giant. The golem knight sailed past Adom's head so fast it was barely more than a silver blur, crashing somewhere in the darkness behind him with a sound like a thousand pots and pans falling down a flight of stairs.

Suffice to say, this was a bad situation.

The smoke was getting thicker, each breath more shallow than the last. His eyes burned, his vision swimming with tears and dancing black spots. No choice then. Precious mana or not, he needed to breathe.

[Wind] took shape between his hands. The air around him exploded outward, carving a sphere of clarity in the choking smoke.

A lightning spell tempted him - oh, how it tempted him. But with only 207 mana left in his pool, anything he could weave would barely tickle something of this caliber. Level 69 monsters didn't get to that level by being careless with adventurers throwing spells around.

Besides... it wasn't attacking.

The spider just... stood there. In the dying light of the flames, Adom could finally see it properly. All the attributes he had previously seen were there. But there was something else - something he'd never considered before.

Its breathing.

How had he never wondered what a giant spider's breathing sounded like? This one's was deep, rhythmic, like distant thunder trapped underground. Behind it, the charred remains of what used to be its web still smoldered, the desert stalker's corpse now nothing more than a smoking husk.

Maybe if he just moved to the right, slowly...

The spider shifted. Not moved - shifted. One moment it was there, the next it was already blocking his path, so fast his mind barely registered the movement. A gasp escaped his lips before he could stop it.

Backing away seemed like the next logical option, but the moment his weight shifted backward, the spider coiled forward, its front legs rising slightly. The message was crystal clear: Don't even think about it.

Adom's mind raced. This wasn't normal predator behavior - not even for dungeon creatures. Yes, they'd covered this in Advanced Monster Theory at the Academy. Higher-level dungeon denizens could match or exceed human intelligence. Professor Vale had been particularly insistent on that point, right before warning them that these were often the cruelest encounters.

But this... this felt different. The spider wasn't toying with him - it was... studying him? Containing him?

What could something like this possibly want from someone like him?

Pride aside, slowly, deliberately, Adom raised his hands, palms outward - the universal gesture of 'I yield' that worked with most intelligent beings. Whether it meant anything to an arachnid, even one of clearly superior intelligence, remained to be seen.

The spider's head tilted slightly, a disturbingly human-like gesture. Two of its front legs lowered fractionally, though the rest maintained their ready stance. That rhythmic breathing continued, unchanging, like a counterbeat to Adom's own racing heart.

Those crimson eyes studied his hands with particular interest. Was it checking for signs of spell-weaving? Looking for hidden weapons? Or was he just projecting human thought patterns onto something fundamentally alien?

A drop of sweat rolled down his neck, stinging the burns there. The air still tasted of smoke and chemical residue.

The spider's mandibles moved slightly, producing a soft clicking sound that seemed to have a pattern to it. Was it... was it trying to communicate?

Adom then frowned as he heard a high-pitched ringing, like a distant bell that somehow rang inside his skull. Then-

Pain.

WHITE-HOT, ALL-CONSUMING PAIN.

"Argh!"

Adom collapsed, his knees hitting the stone floor as his hands clutched his head. It felt like thousands of needles were being driven into his brain simultaneously, each one carrying its own unique agony. His screams echoed off the cave walls, mixing with the sound of his body thrashing against the ground.

The voices came next. Hundreds, thousands of them, all speaking at once. Some whispered, some shouted, some sang in languages he'd never heard. They cascaded through his mind like a waterfall of broken glass, each syllable cutting deeper than the last.

[Indomitable Will]

He started pushing back against the invasion. The pain began to recede, the voices growing fainter until...

[You have successfully resisted potent mind control!]

Mind control? That thing had tried to- The spider's shriek cut through his thoughts like a physical blow, sending him sprawling backward onto his bottom.

It was an ugly sight, but it's mouth was wide open.

A plan formed quickly: a concentrated fire bullet, just like with the desert stalker. If the carapace was too tough, aim for the mouth, right between those clicking mandibles-

His right hand was suddenly pinned to the ground by fresh webbing before his fingers had even twitched to begin the spell weaving. Not his whole body - just the exact hand he'd been about to use.

It knew. Somehow, it had known exactly what he was going to do before he did it.

But how? Mind reading seemed the obvious answer, but hadn't he just resisted its mental invasion?

The spider clicked its mandibles again, but this time, no mental assault followed. Instead, it... watched. Just watched, with an intensity that made Adom's skin crawl.

Around them, the last flames from his escape attempt still flickered, the dancing shadows casting on the cave walls. The spider's eyes reflected each tiny fire like eight blood-red mirrors, and then...

One of the small flames suddenly wavered, as if caught in a non-existent breeze. Then another. And another. The fires didn't go out - they just... moved. Twisted. Like something was trying to grasp them, to control them, but couldn't quite manage it.

"What are you..." Adom's voice trailed off as the spider tried again. And again. Each time, those eight eyes fixed on him with an expectation that felt almost... frustrated?

Then it hit him.

"Oh God," he whispered, the realization striking him as his eyes widened. "You're trying to weave magic."

The spider stopped mid-attempt. The silence in the cave became deafening.

The sheer impossibility of the situation made Adom's head spin. A giant spider had just tried to break into his mind, nearly caused him to be burned alive, tossed his golem around like a ragdoll, and now it was... practicing magic?

The spider's mandibles clicked rapidly, and the remaining flames all wavered at once, as if to emphasize the point.

Well, that explained why he wasn't dead yet. But it didn't make him feel any better about his chances of staying that way for long.

"Can you understand me?" Adom asked carefully, the words feeling strange in the silent cave.

The spider's legs stilled their movement. All eight eyes fixed on him.

"Move to your left if you can," Adom said, his mouth dry.

The spider took a deliberate step to its left, its movements unnaturally precise. Then it moved slightly closer, mandibles clicking in what almost seemed like... eagerness? Its front legs spread in what could have been a peaceful gesture, but Adom noticed how they still kept him carefully cornered.

During the mental assault, beneath the searing pain and violation, he'd experienced... something. Not quite a feeling, not exactly thoughts either. It was like catching glimpses of shape and shadow in murky water - impressions that defied description. For lack of a better word, he had 'felt' its essence, its intent. And whatever it was he'd sensed hadn't been anything close to benevolent.

Now, watching it try to manipulate fire, those shadowy impressions crystallized into understanding. That alien hunger he'd glimpsed hadn't just been for knowledge - it had been deeper, darker. More final. And if a creature like this wanted him as a teacher...

And suddenly he remembered one of Professor Vale's lectures about high-level dungeons, backed by countless stories he'd heard from adventurers in his past life, when the World Dungeon first appeared.

The internal politics of dungeons weren't static. Sometimes, a particularly cunning monster would grow strong enough to challenge the dungeon's boss. If it won and consumed the dungeon's core, it would become the new ruler. He'd seen entire dungeon ecosystems changing overnight when this happened.

He assessed his situation coldly. He was exhausted, injured, and in no condition to fight something like the spider. Even if he somehow managed to slip past it, he was still deep in a dungeon. He'd be dead within hours, if not minutes.

But if he taught it... taught it slowly, carefully, perhaps even incorrectly in crucial ways... he could use it. At least in this cave, he'd only have to watch his back against one monster, dangerous as it was, instead of the constant threats lurking outside. Not ideal, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

He had a little more than a month before the first symptoms. Time enough to find a way to kill it before it killed him.