"Karp-karp," I muttered, my voice bubbling with dark intent.
"Karp!" my fish-bro chirped happily, already burying its face in a new, more verdant patch of riverweed. It started munching away, a true pacifist enjoying its salad, perfectly content in its blurry, herbivorous world.
Nevermind, I alone am enough
The school of fish shimmered ahead, a liquid mirage of silver and light, blissfully unaware of the existential horror about to descend upon them. I tensed my borrowed fish muscles, coiled my tail like a spring, and—
SPLASH!
I missed. Spectacularly.
My lunge was a clumsy, uncoordinated disaster. The silver fish scattered like living confetti, their movements impossibly synchronized as they evaded my gaping mouth. My momentum, unchecked by any semblance of grace, carried me straight into a large, unyielding rock. My face smacked against it with a dull, wet thunk.
[HP: 1.8 → 1.7/48]
"Karp-dammit!" I gurgled, a plume of bubbles escaping my mouth in frustration.
My fish-bro, still happily munching on riverweed a few feet away, paused its chewing to give me a slow, ponderous blink. It was a look that somehow, across the vast intellectual chasm between us, perfectly conveyed both pity and mild disappointment.
Oh, don't you judge me, you glorified sushi roll.
I shook off the embarrassment (and the slight dizziness from headbutting a rock) and refocused. Okay, so Magikarp weren't exactly apex predators. Their entire evolutionary strategy was basically "flail until something happens." I had one known move: Splash. And as any gamer knew, Splash did precisely jack shit.
This wasn't about power. It was about technique. I was an idiot in a fish suit, but I still had a human brain. I had to think like a predator, not a… whatever Magikarp were. I watched the school regroup, their movements a mesmerizing ballet. Direct assault was out. They were too fast, too coordinated.
So I waited. I floated motionlessly near the riverbed, trying my best to look like a particularly uninteresting orange rock. My nearsightedness actually helped, blurring my form into the background. The school, sensing no threat, drifted closer, their individual forms sharpening as they entered my limited field of vision. They were chasing even tinier specks in the water, their attention focused.
Patience. Wait for an opening. Isolate a target.
A small straggler, distracted by a promising-looking bit of algae, drifted away from the main group. It was only by a few inches, but it was enough.
Now.
No clumsy lunge this time. I used my tail for a short, sharp burst of speed, aiming not for the fish itself, but for the space just ahead of it. I opened my gaping mouth wide, turning my entire body into a living net. The little fish, startled, tried to dart back to the safety of the school, but it was too late. It swam directly into my trap.
GOT YOU, YOU DELICIOUS LITTLE BASTARD.
I bit down.
CRUNCH.
…
…
…
Oh.
Oh no.
Oh YES!
The taste hit me like a freight train.
It was… heavenly.
Salty. Savory. Meaty. A burst of umami flavor so intense it made the riverweed taste like wet cardboard in comparison, so good that I even forgot that I was practically chewing on raw flesh. My body thrummed with a sudden, vibrant energy, a warmth spreading through me like I'd just chugged a Max Potion, not that I knew, but I guessed it must feel similar.
[HP: 1.7 → 5.2/48]
HOLY SHIT.
I swallowed, stunned. That one bite had healed me more than all that disgusting riverweed combined. And the taste—the taste!—was like rediscovering food after a lifetime of nutrient paste, even through this was uncooked, was there some magic in poke-world fishes or what?
I looked down at the half-eaten fish still in my mouth.
Then at the school, still disoriented and reforming in the murky water.
Then back at the fish.
"Karp." (Oh, I'm so sorry, little one.)
Then I ate the rest of him.
[HP: 5.2 → 8.6/48]
"KARP-KARP!" (IT'S SO GOOD!)
My fish-bro, still chewing on his sad little salad, blinked at me in confusion. The sound of my ecstatic cry had finally registered over his own munching.
"Magikarp?" he questioned, as if asking why his normally placid friend was suddenly having a religious experience but then went on to his own business, which was just chewing on more riverweed. Eh, lets keep that aside and come back to my own situation.
My hypothesis was confirmed!
My glee was palpable, even in fish form. I eagerly pulled up the system logs, my mental command already second nature.
[User has consumed [Silverfin Minnow].]
[Effect: Restores a moderate amount of HP.]
Moderate! Not "small," not "minuscule," but a glorious, beautiful, moderate amount of HP. This was it. This was the ticket.
Fueled by a new, primal hunger, I adjusted, adapted, and learned. I stopped thinking like a human trying to be a fish and started thinking like a predator. I was no longer a bumbling tourist in a Magikarp suit; I was a hunter, an hunter with myopia, but a hunter nonetheless.
Bless me, my fishy ancestors, and give me the billion year old instincts you guys used to hunt planktons in the primordial soup!
I waited. I isolated my targets. I used my dopey, harmless appearance to my advantage, letting the smaller fish get cocky. Then, with short, sharp bursts of speed that would have made my fish-bro proud, I turned my body into a living net, scooping them up before they could even register the danger.
One by one, they vanished into my gaping maw. Each bite was a burst of sublime, savory flavor, a stark contrast to the foul riverweed. And with each bite, a wave of warmth and energy surged through me.
[HP: 8.6 → 12.1/48]
[HP: 12.1 → 15.4/48]
[HP: 15.4 → 20.0/48]
The numbers climbed steadily, a beautiful, rising tide of vitality. I was a machine of consumption, a harbinger of delicious, HP-restoring doom for the minnow population of this river. I ate until the school had dwindled to a terrified, scattered handful, and I ate until my new fish stomach felt like it was about to burst. Finally, as I swallowed the last morsel, a new notification popped up.
[HP: 43.8/48]
[Status: Satiated. Cannot consume more healing items for a limited time.]
Ah. A cooldown. Of course. The system gives, and the system takes away. Still, forty-three out of forty-eight HP was a hell of a lot better than one. I felt… safe. Relatively speaking. I wasn't going to get one-shot by a stiff breeze anymore. With that comforting thought, I pulled up my full status screen again, just to bask in the glory of my not-quite-critical health bar.
[Ditto - Level 0]
[HP: 43.8/48]
[PP: 100/100]
[Status: Satiated]
[Natural Regeneration Rate: 2.0 HP/hour]
[Moves Learned: Transform]
I stared at the screen, my eyes locked on one particular line. I read it again. And again.
Wait a goddamn minute.
The last time I checked, my natural regen was a pathetic, cosmic joke of a number. It was 0.000069 HP/hour. Now, it was a solid two points per hour. What the hell?
My mind raced, trying to connect the dots. The system had rules, I was sure of it. It wasn't just arbitrary. There had to be a cause. Did eating the fish give me a permanent buff? No, the log didn't mention any secondary effects. Was it tied to my health? The thought was a wild guess, but it was the only one that made a lick of sense. A low-health penalty to encourage active healing, and a higher rate when you're healthier to help you top off.
Maybe it could also be biologically explained that body can heal itself faster when injury is less, but when its severe, nothing works correctly anymore. Through biology did feel like it took a trip through wonderland when I was in fainted state.
If that was true, then this system was even more complex-and more beautifully broken-than I had imagined as when my health grows, I can't always be munching down on things to heal. Through I wondered if eating any other animals, if they do exist, would give me varying level of HP or not? An experiment for another time.
With nearly full HP and a respectable regeneration rate, the crushing panic that had defined my existence was finally starting to recede. I felt powerful. Well, powerful for a fish that only knew how to flop around.
I decided to celebrate my newfound lease on life by exploring my aquatic domain. I swam lazy circles around my fish-bro, who was now attempting to have a deep and meaningful conversation with a particularly mossy rock.
Yeah, you do that, buddy. You solve the world's geological mysteries. I'm gonna go for a joyride.
I pushed off, my tail propelling me through the water with a grace I certainly never possessed as a human. It was liberating. For a moment, I could almost forget I was a disembodied consciousness trapped in a pink blob, masquerading as a useless fish.
As I glided past a school of fishes, my Satiated status still preventing another meal, I considered my next move. Staying as a Magikarp was comfortable, and my eyesight aside, the underwater world was surprisingly beautiful. But I couldn't stay a fish forever. The memory of almost wanting to woo that Goldeen was a stark reminder that these forms came with… baggage. Instincts. Dumb, animalistic urges that my human mind had to constantly fight.Even now, there was just this urge in the back of mind to find a beautiful big fish and spray my life force over here.
Definitely urges of magicarp biology...
That aside, I needed to know if the Satiated debuff was tied to the Magikarp form or to me. If this satiated buff was because of my stomach being full, would changing back to another form, change things? Or maybe I should try changing into some other pokemon and see if it goes away, afterall different Pokemon must have different biology and stomach size right?
Experimentation was key. I needed to change.
I scanned my blurry surroundings, looking for another potential form. My eyes landed on that flash of orange and white in the distance. A Goldeen. Sleek, horned, with fins that looked like they could actually propel it through the water with some degree of grace. It was perfect.
It'll do.
With a new purpose, I began to swim towards it. As I drew closer, the Goldeen's form sharpened. It was lazily fanning its elegant fins, looking regal and completely unbothered. It noticed my clumsy, orange approach, and its posture changed immediately. It turned its body slightly, presenting its horn in a clear "don't even think about it" gesture, and flicked its tail fin with an air of pure, unadulterated disdain. It was the aquatic equivalent of a popular girl scoffing at the school nerd trying to sit at her lunch table.
Whatever, lady. I just need to borrow your body for a bit.
I focused my will, pushing the mental command: Transform. I poured my intent into the action, picturing the Goldeen's form, its horn, its flowing fins. I felt the familiar, sickening lurch as my cells began to shift—
Oh
Oh no
Why am i turning back to Ditto?
____
Second chapter because why not? Hope you enjoyed the read and don't forget to add this to your libraries!!
And gimme the stones people, a certain purple alien is coming for it, and I might be able to keep them all safe!