Chapter 37

A black egg.

Boasting a sleek surface, I immediately bring up the UI out of curiosity about this egg’s info. Could it possibly be some kind of special egg that doesn’t show any data? With a mix of slight anxiety and excitement, I open it… but the result was pretty simple.

[Screech Owl Egg]

“Ah.”

It’s a screech owl egg, huh.

I guess I was being greedy hoping the egg from the 100th floor of the mine would be something more special…

Why couldn’t it at least be…

Something fantastical since I’m in this world now—like a magical creature. Maybe a dragon, phoenix, spirit, or something like that.

I pop my mouth dry with a strange sense of disappointment. Still, there’s no way I’d throw this egg away. I don’t know why an owl egg would be here, but meeting it like this feels like fate. Just as I start pondering how to hatch the screech owl, a small crack appears on the black surface.

Crack—

“Huh?”

Crack—

The crack spreads across the entire surface of the egg. Panicking, I pick up the egg in my hands and can only watch helplessly as it splits open. The cracks deepen into fissures, then gaps, allowing the life inside to emerge.

“Peep…”

A fluffy gray fuzzball.

There was none of the neat fur or striking eyes I imagined for a majestic screech owl. This baby screech owl was such an adorable, cuddly little thing.

“Hmm. Right.”

What should I do?

Should I give it some food?

Its eyelids feel heavy as the screech owl keeps closing its eyes. It must have been bouncing around inside the egg trying to hold itself steady. So cute, I didn’t expect it to capture my heart so quickly.

“Cheep. Cheep.”

What is it trying to say? Its tiny voice chirping cutely was adorable.

Despite my flustered state, a small change occurs in my heart when the screech owl hatches. Carefully, I extend my finger, hoping not to burden the baby owl. Gently, I stroke its gray fluffy coat.

It seems to enjoy it as the screech owl closes its eyes, feeling my touch—or rather, feeling my finger. Then I realize my hands aren’t clean. After petting it a little, I quickly withdraw my finger, worried the baby might get sick in this less-than-ideal environment.

Can babies eat meat?

Do they need formula or something?

Already brainstorming what to feed it, I take out raw meat from the system and chop it into tiny pieces.

Even though opening its eyes seems hard, this little one knows exactly where its food is. As soon as I offer the crimson meat, it eagerly gulps it down with loud crunching sounds.

A strange emotion blooms in my chest alongside the feeling of adorableness. Is this what it means to take responsibility for something? Though I never thought about raising this kind of creature, this small life given to me unexpectedly has already taken root deep in my heart.

Well, who cares?

We’ll be together from now on.

I look forward to painting our shared future together. Anyway, it’s too late to turn back now.

“Hmm.”

The problem is how to escape the mine with this tiny life.

Starting from level 80, the hellish volcanic zone awaits. Dust and particles will aggressively invade my breathing apparatus as soon as we leave this room. It’s not an environment where a baby can easily endure. That’s why I wished the egg hadn’t hatched yet.

It’s also not easy to put it in a bag. If I were to place it inside while alive, once I take it out again, the creature would lose its life—it’s simply not meant to transport living beings.

While wracking my brain over what to do, the screech owl happily munches away on the meat with its beak, oblivious to my worries. Its innocent demeanor makes me chuckle softly. Alright, let’s try something.

Operation Baby Screech Owl Mine Escape begins. With a hastily devised plan, I resolve to safely extract this little one from the mine.

First, I’ll make a small cage to carry it. The material will be mithril.

To withstand the volcano’s heat, it’s an essential precaution.

Quietly working in the corner of the room so as not to disturb the screech owl, I continue crafting. Occasionally, it stares at me with wide, starry eyes, tilting its head curiously every time I glance at it. How adorable.

Parents are said to keep photos of their children’s early years—I totally understand why now. It’s such a shame I don’t have a camera.

Clang!

At every loud noise, my head instinctively turns toward the fuzzball. But it shows no fear, keeping its gaze solely on me, sitting quietly despite the confined space.

Thanks to good tools, I’ve managed to create a temporary small cage. Calling it a “cage,” it barely has an entrance, no door, just enough to fit the baby owl snugly. Carefully placing the screech owl inside, I’ve lined the bottom with fabric to ensure it isn’t too cold.

“Peep.”

Fortunately, it follows my lead perfectly. I appreciate that.

I cover the cage with cloth made by tearing apart some clothes. Checking several times to ensure the baby can breathe, I wrap it securely. This is the minimum precaution against dust and particles.

Now, all I can think about is reaching level 80 as fast as possible. I tightly cradle the cage, securing it multiple times so it won’t shake.

A refreshing sensation fills my chest. Through the translucent silhouette of the fabric, I see the little screech owl cautiously moving around its narrow space. Tapping the cage with its beak makes me giggle. We need to hurry and get out of here.

Level 99.

Dust clouds fill the air. Ash and gray melancholy surround us.

Kicking off the powdery ground, I sprint.

It took two whole days to slowly descend while mining minerals. If I focus solely on breaking through the mine, how long will it take? Today seems perfect to find out.

“Huff…”

Deep breaths.

Though my throat feels irritated, I push through. Kicking off the dusty ground, I head toward level 98.

My eyes alternate between ahead and my chest.

Is there any shaking? Slightly worried, but luckily, the little one seems comfortable. Reassured, I keep running tirelessly.

Level 80.

Volcanic zone.

Intense heat surges forth.

I place my hand on the cage. Cold and lukewarm—just the right temperature. What a relief.

Keep running.

The burning heat circulating into my lungs through my throat feels unpleasant. My throat feels scorched, but I press harder into each step. What I want is more speed.

I’ve never experienced this level of speed before.

I’m reminded anew of how much my physical performance has improved. The residual images of walls and minerals rushing past are fascinating.

Level 50.

Coolness soothes my sweat.

The damp clothes gradually dry. Perhaps it’s getting better—after drinking some water, I run again. I peek into my arms.

The screech owl, looking content for some reason, has curved eyes and is smiling faintly.

Levels 30, 20, and finally the first floor of the mine.

Without stopping, I exit the mine. Finally stepping outside, my breathing changes. The air in the forest is very different from that in the mine. The unique scent—a fresh, cool breeze.

Checking the time, it’s lunchtime. I escaped the mine earlier than expected. Without this little one, I’d probably have mined slowly, spent another night in the mine, and only come out the next day.

Hastily uncovering the cage, I check the screech owl’s condition. Aside from its fluffy fur turning slightly darker, everything seems fine. Checking via UI and encyclopedia, it’s all good.

Relief washes over me as I exhale deeply. Unfazed, the little one chirps and tries to rub against my finger.

“It’s dirty, so no.”

“Peep.”

Whether it understands me or not, after briefly sulking, it ignores my words and eagerly approaches my finger again. This is why people keep pets, I suppose.

I pour water from the bag to scrub my hands clean. Even if it won’t completely wash off, I can’t present my grimy fingers to it. After roughly cleaning them, I offer my hand to the fluffy little one.

What does it find so appealing about my fingers? Rubbing against its forehead once, then its cheek, it taps my finger with its beak.

A fantasy game atmosphere.

I had a bit of anticipation for something else to appear, but now that I’ve met this little one, those thoughts vanish. It’s not like I’ll force labor out of a cute baby hatching from an egg anyway. Just having it nearby stabilizes my heart and its mere existence is enough.

“Let’s go. We’ll have to name you later.”

Since we’ll be together for a long time, it needs a name. It’s my first time naming a screech owl. What would be good?

When it was young, it was fluffy.

But I remember it grew up to be quite handsome and dignified.

Faintly recalling the image from my modern memories, I pull it out hazily.

The little one perched on my shoulder tilts its head high. Despite being a baby owl, it looks around with round eyes, showing its innate nature.

Noticing I haven’t given it water even though I fed it, I carefully offer some to its beak. It greedily drinks, making slurping noises. The droplets soak into its fluffy feathers. It must have been really thirsty from being in the mine.

The journey home feels light.

My body is extremely tired, but my mind is clear. Maybe because I have something to take responsibility for now.

I feel the need to work even harder.

After two days, arriving home reveals nothing much has changed. The soil moistened by the mist sprayed from the mithril sprinkler still smells earthy. Checking the empty spots, I naturally grab the watering can.

Yesterday’s water.

Today’s water.

Based on the extreme efficiency principle that there must be no losses in farming, my trip to the mine was indeed fruitful.

After finishing watering, I clumsily assemble something using wood and stones.

It’s to build a place for the screech owl to stay, but it takes longer than expected.

Lacking experience is the biggest hurdle.

No helpful blue hologram for construction skills exists.

No relevant skills either.

At least the wood-related experience gained from logging assists me somewhat. Cutting and sawing wood, smoothing out rough surfaces with a plane.

The baby screech owl watches my actions intently, wondering what’s so fascinating. Usually perched on my shoulder.

Even as a baby, its claws exude a sharp strength, hinting at its predatory nature from birth.

To avoid suffocation, I remove the door for easier access.

Creating a spacious area and laying soft padding on the floor.

Although it lacks furnishings, the meaning lies in providing a place for the screech owl to stay.

Gradually, we’ll add things.

Like a novice father, I can’t expect to do everything perfectly from the start.

“Well, how’s it look?”

“Cheep.”

Does it actually understand me?

The baby screech owl waddles into its wooden-smelling new home and gazes steadily at me.

What else does it need?

“Peep. Peep.”

Chirping repeatedly, what it wants most is my finger.

Does it love skin contact that much?

Does my hand have some special scent?

Sniffing it briefly, I detect nothing unusual.

Perplexed, I fully entrust my finger to the baby screech owl. After rubbing against it to its heart’s content, when I gently stroke it, its eyes soften.

Does it enjoy that much?

Thus, a cute little addition joins my daily routine.

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