"Nani nani~ What is this? Since when do I have this skill? No way, something's definitely off here!"
Shiraori scratched her head with a front leg, her round little head tilting to the right in confusion.
When that didn't help, she tilted to the left, her entire face radiating pure bewilderment.
Next to her, Nagami yawned lazily, exuding his usual laid-back aura.
A strange little smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
In a way, this was part of his unspoken deal with D.
After all, when two "mischief monsters" met, it was like watching two pranksters in perfect sync.
He'd already handed over the intel.
Whatever happened next—whether Shiraori figured out the chat group or not—was no longer his problem.
Though if he had to guess, D might end up disappointed.
Even the magic gods from A Certain Magical Index couldn't detect the chat group, and D's tier in this world probably wasn't quite on their level.
"You were probably just too tired yesterday and didn't notice," he offered casually.
"But… that's not all… When did my beloved Appraisal skill reach level 10? Last I checked, it was still level 9!"
"Huh?" Nagami's smile froze instantly.
A beat later, his expression shifted to one of stunned disbelief.
'Oi oi, this is a bit much!' His eye twitched in annoyance as he finally let out a groan of frustration.
Custom skills weren't enough—they even maxed out Appraisal without meeting the requirements?
Is this spider your precious daughter or something?
"How… how did this happen…?" Shiraori's pink eyes darted nervously around the room.
Of course she could guess where the skill came from—she had read the script, after all.
But the timing made no sense. Why now?
She hadn't done anything special.
The plan to manipulate terrain and exploit the monkeys' low intelligence during battle? That was all Nagami.
He did most of the work—she was just a little spider along for the ride.
"Well… whatever. It's still a good thing, so no point overthinking it~"
Shaking her head, Shiraori cleared away the confusion clouding her mind and summoned her system interface to decide how to spend the skill points from yesterday's level-up.
"Hehehe~ So many points! Gotta upgrade this, and this one too!"
She waved her front legs, tapping away at the floating screen before her.
Shiraori was in full carefree, spend-happy mode.
With a clear evolution path laid out for her, she didn't need to save any skill points.
Speaking of saving points, she suddenly remembered Araba, the Earth Dragon from the anime.
During their battle, Araba had burned through all 40,000 of his stockpiled skill points in one go, investing them precisely in relevant skills—a terrifying opponent.
But since she already knew the plot, Shiraori hadn't encountered Araba yet, and thus had never been intimidated by him.
Still, she felt a mix of emotions about him.
He had chosen to self-destruct after losing to her—a powerful and proud warrior.
Someday, when she was strong enough, she'd like to challenge him again properly.
"Oh right, Shiro. I've decided—I'm heading back today."
C.C.'s tone was flat as she rested her chin in one hand, watching the little white spider dance around.
"Huh?"
Shiraori froze mid-motion, her cheerful expression turning to stone.
Clearly, she hadn't expected C.C. to say something like that.
"So soon? You're leaving already? Don't you want to hang out a bit longer? It's not every day you drop by, you know."
Her voice—usually so light and girlish—now held a rare trace of sadness.
She looked at the gentle, smiling green-haired girl, then turned toward the black-haired boy lounging against the bedframe.
Her voice grew quiet.
Even though she got teased constantly, the time spent with Nagami had been the happiest since her reincarnation.
No—if she counted Wakaba Hiiro's memories as well, these days had been the most joyful in her entire life.
Wakaba Hiiro had never had anyone she could truly call a friend.
And now, Nagami—her first close interaction with someone her own age—had carved a deep, lasting impression on her lonely heart.
She didn't fully understand the emotions stirring within her—was this friendship? Or something more?
"Why do you sound like my mom seeing off relatives who only came over for tea?"
Nagami cut through the tension with a perfectly timed jab.
"C'mon, we've got the chat group. We can talk anytime. And if it's just 100 points to meet up again, I can save that up in two weeks."
"It's not like this is a rare once-in-a-lifetime moment."
C.C. leaned down and gently patted Shiraori's head.
"Ugh, are you seriously playing the nice card now?!" Even though Shiraori wasn't cursed with bad luck, her luck was pretty average—like a typical Asian.
But her natural instinct to despise "lucky dogs" like C.C. was universal.
"Hey, don't blame me for being blessed~" Nagami shrugged innocently, flashing a smug little grin.
"Anyway, let's just take it easy today and rest."
He rummaged through his backpack—crafted from Shiraori's special silk—and pulled out two gaming consoles.
Holding one up to Shiraori, he grinned.
"Come on, let's game."
With a nimble leap, Shiraori landed gracefully and grabbed the console.
The lingering sadness of their pending farewell evaporated instantly, replaced with a bright smile.
"Bring it on! You think I'm scared of you?"
Gripping the console with her legs, her once-deadly limbs now looked oddly soft and harmless.
With no real hands, she could only control the game using taps like a single finger.
"Don't say I've got an unfair advantage just 'cause I've got a human form—I'll use one finger too."
C.C. sat half-upright on the bed, her upper body resting comfortably against a soft pillow as she held her console.
As Shiraori opened her mouth to protest, Nagami beat her to the punch—leaning into C.C.'s arms and resting his head on her generous chest.
With a finger from each hand, he began tapping away on his own console, glancing at Shiraori with a smug tilt of his head.
He wasn't about to bully a spider with no hands.
This was his way of keeping things fair.
And so, the two lazy bums settled in for a day of gaming.
Time passed quietly and peacefully, and before they knew it, it was already noon.
The vast, gloomy labyrinth was always shrouded in darkness—sunlight had never once touched this place.
An eerie wind whispered from nowhere, like the wailing of restless spirits.
"Not bad! But sorry, I win~"
With a smirk that danced on the edge of a grin, Nagami looked down at the furious little spider, who was in the middle of a spectacular tantrum.
He reached out and gave Shiraori's round little head a few teasing pats.
"Ughhh~ How is this possible?! With my skills, I can't even win once?!"
The cry of a sore loser echoed as Shiraori raised her gaming console in frustration, ready to smash it into the ground.
But just as it was about to hit, she realized what he was doing.
With godlike reflexes, she darted forward and caught the console midair like it was the most precious treasure in the world.
"One more game! This time I'll definitely beat you!"
It wasn't that she was bad—far from it.
Shiraori's skills were easily on par with professional gamers.
The problem was... her opponent wasn't human.
Wait, Shiraori isn't human either?
Well, never mind then.
"Nope, I'm done. I'm starving."
Nagami clutched his grumbling stomach and slumped a little.
He'd been surviving on compressed rations for days and was now desperately craving a real meal.
"Fine…"
Glancing at the monsters suspended outside in her webs, Shiraori decided against pretending to be a good host.
With a warm smile on his face, Nagami's eyes shifted into a glowing violet hexagram.
His consciousness entered the chat group's shop interface.
He tapped the grayed-out "Purchase" button—hidden behind the privileges reserved for group leaders.
Before him, space twisted open, revealing a purple magic circle identical to the one in his eyes.
From the void, a pure white card slowly emerged and began to spin.
The Nagami now was a world apart from the Nagami who had first arrived here.
With power came perception.
Though he still couldn't fully analyze the system's core, he no longer bled from his seven orifices just from looking at it. His head did feel a little stuffy, though.
"What's that?"
Shiraori tilted her head at Nagami's strange behavior, staring at the floating card that appeared out of nowhere.
She reached out a little paw to touch it…
Surprisingly, her leg passed right through like it was a mirage.
No sensation at all.
"Hmm?"
Just then, a fair-skinned hand reached out and gently plucked the card from the air.
C.C. furrowed her brows, lost in thought for a moment—then smiled in sudden understanding.
"Here, try it." Without doing anything special, C.C. handed the card over to the confused spider girl.
This time, Shiraori was able to hold it.
"So this is a 'Traversal Card.' Looks like unless the buyer wants to give it to someone, the other person can't touch it."
C.C. explained with an elegant smile.
"This is a Traversal Card?"
Shiraori flipped the card back and forth, studying it from every angle, but couldn't see anything unusual.
Eventually, she handed it back to Nagami.
"Well then, Shiro-chan, I'm off. When you've saved up enough points, come find me again, okay~?"
"Okay, safe travels~ φ(>ω<*)ﾉ"
With a wave of her tiny hand, Shiraori gave a cheerful goodbye.
Her adorable face was brimming with cuteness.
Nagami and C.C. waved back.
But in the blink of an eye, their figures vanished as if they'd never been there.
The smile on Shiraori's face faded.
A hint of loneliness took its place.
She shook her head.
A determined light glowed in her large, pink eyes—deep within them, something fierce stirred, a burning desire and an impulsive urge.
At that moment, her longing to return to human form surged wildly, hot enough to ignite her whole being.
"Alright! Time to level up!"
Unlike her usual carefree tone, Shiraori's voice was unusually serious.
She dashed out of the room, devouring her lunch with tornado-like speed, then strode resolutely into the dark maze.
Meanwhile—
In the depths of shadow, before a floating screen lit with hazy light—
A black-haired girl who always seemed too lazy to move finally stood up.
Her sharp gaze solidified into something almost tangible, locked on the moment Nagami and C.C. disappeared.
She unleashed her divine-level perception—an ability no one in this world could detect.
Yet no matter how she tried, she sensed nothing amiss.
The stillness was downright eerie.
Her eyes sparked with interest, though a shadow of seriousness crept in as well.