Malphegor
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MPCW Ch. 04
🕑 Added 2025-11-27 05:07:24 +0000 UTCAlexei was a man on a mission. Well, a teenager on a mission. The point was, he had a goal: sleep in a bed tonight instead of on a hard ground like some kind of medieval peasant.
Time was ticking, and he wasn't about to waste it.
He sprinted back to his treehouse, grabbed materials from his floor-pile of hoarded items, and quickly crafted a fresh wooden pickaxe and sword. Then he was off again, heading back toward the spider's feeding grounds.
The three previous trips to that death trap had been focused entirely on not dying. He hadn't exactly been sightseeing.
This time he had a plan. Sort of. The plan was mostly "don't die and grab string," which wasn't exactly military-grade strategy, but heh, he dropped out of school, but hey, he dropped out of school.
Since he knew the route by heart now, he made even better time than his previous attempts.
But as the web came into view through the trees, his pace slowed.
Caution. That was the word. He was being cautious now.
Definitely not scared.
He held a wooden plank in his left hand, sword gripped tight in his right. If anything went wrong, when something went wrong, because this was his life now, he'd be ready.
In his head, he could already see it: the spider lunging, him building blocks at superhuman speed to intercept the attack, then sliding underneath like some kind of FPS god and delivering a perfect counter-strike that would send the monster tumbling.
In reality, he'd probably panic and die again. But the fantasy was nice while it lasted.
The closer he got to the web, the tighter his grip on the sword became.
The forest around him was calm. Birds chirped, and insects buzzed. The normal soundtrack had returned, which helped settle his nerves a bit.
He stopped about twenty meters out and just waited.
Nothing moved.
"Did it really leave?" he muttered. "Or is it just good at ambush tactics?"
He crept forward until he was within six meters of the web, and decided to test his theory. He raised his wooden sword and swung at empty air, targeting the web remotely.
The sensation was bizarre. His sword didn't touch anything physically, yet he could feel the resistance through the blade, like the game was translating the action directly into his nervous system.
A crack appeared across the massive web's surface, spreading like fractures in glass.
"No... Please don't tell me—"
Thunk.
After about forty seconds of mining, the entire web shattered. A single item fell from where it had been suspended.
He stepped forward quickly. The drop compressed itself and flew into his inventory with that familiar whoosh of items being collected.
He pulled it into his hand.
[String ×1]
"You have got to be fucking kidding me."
His face must've been an absolute picture of disbelief and rage.
That web had covered at least ten meters. Ten full meters of dense spider silk, probably weighing hundreds of kilos in real-world terms.
And it gave him one string.
One.
"How?!" He gestured at the empty space where the web had been. "How does that math work? That's not even conversion, that's just robbery!"
Four string to make one wool block. Three wool blocks to make a bed.
He needed twelve string total.
At one string per massive web, he'd need to find twelve more webs just to sleep comfortably.
But complaining wasn't going to change anything. With a sigh, he trudged over to where he'd died that morning and started collecting the items the spider had knocked out of his inventory.
Wooden tools, some silkspore mycelium blocks, random plant matter. He kept what was useful and used his Deconstruction ability on the rest, breaking them back down into base materials that flowed into his inventory.
The bed plan was officially dead. But he was already here, and respawning would save him a half-hour hike if something killed him...
Might as well push his luck.
He circled around the rotting snail corpse, god the smell was worse now, like someone had left seafood out in the sun for a week, and made his way to the site of his first death.
Another web, smaller than the first but still enough.
He mined it.
[String ×1]
He spent another ten minutes searching the area for more webs and string, but found nothing but trees, and ferns
The sky was already starting to dim as he began the trek back. The sun was sinking toward the horizon. Mist started rising from the forest floor as temperature dropped. The already-humid environment became downright muggy, moisture condensing on every surface. Droplets formed on low-hanging leaves.
The daytime sounds faded, replaced by new ones. Rustling in the underbrush. And somewhere in the distance...
"Awooo..."
Wolves.
Or wolf-analogues. Or giant wolf-monsters that could probably swallow him whole.
He'd been planning to detour and search for exposed stone, but that howl made the decision for him. He picked up his pace, sword held ready, eyes scanning the forest.
Along the way, he killed a few insects that were unlucky enough to cross his path. He didn't bother collecting their drops.
Apparently monster drops also needed to be "assimilated" with experience before they'd work properly. And since he hadn't even converted his chest yet, he definitely didn't have spare XP for bug parts.
He made it back to the treehouse just as the last light was fading from the sky.
First thing he did after ducking inside: close the door.
Second thing: test his theory about the chest.
Moonlight filtered through the gap around the door, giving him just enough illumination to work. He placed his hand on the chest, trying to push experience into it like he had with the wooden planks.
Nothing happened.
He waited, concentrated harder, and willed the XP to flow.
Still nothing.
"What? But I thought—"
Had he been wrong? Did the chest not work that way?
Or maybe...
He pulled out two of his MC-ified logs, broke them down into planks, and crafted a new chest.
Level 2 → Level 0
The newly crafted chest looked identical to the old one. But when he lifted the lid, a familiar interface appeared, the Minecraft storage grid, floating in the air above the chest.
"There we go. It had to be crafted from MC materials, not just converted after the fact."
The interface was weird. It floated above the chest but didn't block his view of the interior. When he placed items in through the interface, miniature versions of them appeared inside the chest, shrunk down to fit.
If he manually put something in the chest by hand, it auto-shrunk and also appeared in the interface.
"Redundant, but I'll take it."
He spent the next fifteen minutes organizing his inventory properly. The new chest got all his MC-ified materials. The old regular chest kept mundane stuff like dirt and raw mycelium. He crafted a third chest for seeds and food items.
By the time he finished, the last traces of daylight were gone. Full night had fallen.
He sat back against the wall, in the small patch of moonlight still coming through the door, and let himself relax for the first time in hours.
That relaxation lasted about thirty seconds.
Outside, something moved through the underbrush. The rustling was quiet. And beneath it, he could hear breathing. Heavy, labored breathing.
Something was right outside his treehouse.
His heart rate spiked immediately. He reached for his sword.
The breathing circled. Like whatever it was knew he was in there and was trying to figure out how to get in.
Don't open the door, he thought. Whatever you do, don't open the door.
Even without the Minecraft mechanics keeping him calm, he wasn't stupid enough to investigate strange noises at night in a murder-forest.
He held perfectly still, barely breathing, listening to the thing outside make another circuit around the tree.
Minutes passed. Then more minutes. The creature didn't leave, just kept circling, and sniffing.
Eventually, he didn't know how long it took, the sounds faded. The breathing grew distant. The rustling moved away.
But he stayed frozen for a long time after, just to be sure.
When he finally moved again, his first instinct was to replace the door with moonlight-blocking planks like he'd planned earlier. But the encounter had thoroughly killed that idea.
That door was the only thing between him and whatever was out there. If he'd replaced it with regular wood instead of MC-ified blocks earlier, he'd probably be dead right now.
He pulled out MC blocks instead and sealed the entrance completely.
Instant darkness.
Well, not complete darkness. His Minecraft vision let him see vague outlines of shapes even with zero light. But it was dark enough to let his imagination run wild.
He kept feeling like something was behind him. Which was stupid because he was inside a sealed treehouse and nothing could possibly...
Stop it. You're being paranoid.
He forced himself to lie down on the floor, wooden planks uncomfortable beneath his back.
Sleep was going to be difficult.
---
Morning came eventually, though Alexei didn't sleep much.
Every time he started to drift off, his brain conjured images of the spider bursting through the wall, or that breathing thing from last night finding a way inside, or some new horror he hadn't encountered yet.
By the time he gave up and opened his eyes, his body was stiff from lying on hard wood and his mood was thoroughly soured.
He waited in the darkness for a while.
Cautiously, very cautiously, he dug open the entrance.
Bright sunlight poured in, making him squint after hours in the dark. Based on the angle, it was close to noon. He'd slept later than intended, or more accurately, he'd lain awake paranoid for most of the night and only slept near dawn.
The area around his treehouse was a mess. Crushed leaves, disturbed soil, clear signs that something large had been prowling around.
The footprints were big. Really big. But oddly shaped, not matching any animal he recognized from Earth.
"What was that thing?"
He didn't really want to know.
His hunger bar caught his attention: three units out of ten. Down from five-and-a-half when he'd gone to sleep.
And for the first time since arriving in this world, he felt hungry.
According to Minecraft logic, hunger depleted faster the lower it got. And below three units, he couldn't sprint.
He pulled out one of the unknown fruits from his inventory, a purple thing about the size of a plum, then hesitated and put it back.
"Okay, new plan. Try not to die today. At all. Even once."
It was a modest goal. Probably an impossible goal. But worth attempting.
The primary objective remained unchanged: find cobblestone.
With his hunger low, he didn't range far from the treehouse. Just searched the immediate area, hoping to spot a rocky outcropping or cliff face or literally any exposed stone.
Three hunger units lasted surprisingly long as long as he didn't run, jump, or mine blocks. He spent the entire day just walking and searching.
By evening, his hunger hit zero.
Still no sign of cobblestone anywhere.
He stared at the remaining fruits in his inventory. Three unknown varieties left to test, plus the bloodweb berry he already knew was lethal.
His options were simple: starve to death, or risk poison.
"Well, starving takes forever. Let's speed this up."
He pulled out a cluster of yellow berries that looked almost like unripe cherries. Picked one that was slightly more red than the others, maybe ripeness mattered, and popped it in his mouth.
He bit down.
The taste was not too bad. Tart, slightly sweet, with a...
His vision exploded into white.
[You Died!]
[Cardiac Arrest - Cherry Nightshade.]
[Score: 72]
[Respawn]
---
Alexei respawned at full health, and hunger.
"Okay. So that one causes instant heart attacks. Good to know."
Three more fruits to test. This was going to be a long process.
He trudged back to the treehouse as the sun set again. At least dying reset his hunger, so he wouldn't have to eat again tonight.
Time to check his gains for the day.
The two string he'd collected were done assimilating, he could feel the difference when he handled them now.
Plus four MC-ified logs he'd converted during his search.
Which meant he could craft more chests.
He made two additional storage containers and organized everything properly.
One chest for MC materials.
One for seeds and food items.
And one for mundane resources.
Three chests. No bed or cobblestone.
"Tomorrow," he told himself. "Tomorrow I'll find stone. It has to be out there somewhere."
He sealed the entrance with wooden blocks again, lay down on the hard floor, and closed his eyes.
Sleep came easier the second night, exhaustion finally overwhelming paranoia.
His last thought before drifting off: I really need to find that cobblestone.
