Niwla woke up with an aching everything. His vision swam in and out of focus. Sounds echoed, warping and twisting, in his ear holes.

  He blinked hard, tried to orient himself. When his sight finally steadied, he looked down at his feathery self. There, in between his feathers, was a cut so thin, it was almost impossible to notice. But the lingering specks of spices surrounding it gave the incision away. Yet, for some reason, not a single drop of blood stained his otherwise pristine body.

  What did Gary Stew slice him up with?

  As his senses slowly returned to normal, Niwla noticed he was back inside a cage.

  This cage was much larger and far sturdier. The metal rods that barred him from freedom were easily five times thicker than before. No amount of attacks at his current skill level would allow him to break free—that was a Niwla guarantee.

  Not only was the cage more escape-proof, it was also more homely.

  The floor was carpeted with a soft layer of straw. In the corner sat a huge running wheel. Across from it, a giant water bottle was hung from a clasp attached to the cage, complete with a bent metal straw that extended out from the bottom for anyone to sip on.

  Whoever was in charge of accommodations must've clearly missed the memo that Niwla was a Turkey, not a Hamster.

  Outside of his cage were a bunch of other similar cages fitted with the exact same accommodations—Niwla's was just one of them, and his so happened to be on the bottom. All of the cages were aligned to form a circle.

  However, the only thing the cages were filled with was air. Niwla was the only occupant in this luxurious metal condo. In the center of the circle of cages was a lone wooden chair. There wasn't even a seat cushion to keep it company. Oddly enough, there wasn't even an opening in the wall of cages for someone to access the seat. So, who was it for?

  Apart from that, the only other notable feature of the room was a plain wooden door tucked in the corner. There was nothing special about it, other than the fact that the knob began to turn,

  The door swung open with gusto, revealing the migraine—Gary Stew.

  Instead of a smug look on his face, he was grumbling profanities under his breath. He leaped over the wall of cages and landed perfectly in the middle, not even making a sound from such a landing.

  Gary Stew spun the chair around till it faced Niwla before he plopped himself down. The wooden chair creaked from the sudden weight. He had his legs spread out, elbows resting on his thighs as his hands cupped his mouth.

  If this was his attempt at playing the menacing villain, then it was one hundred percent working.

  Niwla's aching head began to race as he attempted to come up with a plan to escape. Mind Alwin was running around and screaming in panic—again. On the other hand, mind Winal simply watched on, indifferent. His focus was on reconstructing the mini-factory within their shared Core after the rude blackout.

  "How you doing, little birdie?" Gary Stew asked. It wasn't the same mocking, taunting, and cocky voice he normally used. This tone was soft and genuine. It was a huge contrast from the body language he was portraying.

  Niwla didn't say anything. He kept his beak shut and eyes locked on the man. What was he up to?

  "Cat got your tongue? Or is it because you're still waking up from that little blend of spices I hit you with?"

  Again, Niwla chose to stay silent.

  "Or maybe you're just mad at me. That's fair. I did drug, kidnap, and lock you in a cage."

  Silence continued to play out.

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  "Still not opening up? Yeah, I get it. So, I'll start first."

  Opening up? Was Gary Stew about to slice him down the middle and remove his innards? Was that what he meant by opening up?

  Niwla backed into the furthest corner of his cage. The mini-factory inside of his Core was still under construction. If that man attacked, all he could rely on was his pre-industrialized methods. Those weren't going to cut it. Gary Stew had grown stronger from their first encounter.

  "Yeah, so, things haven't exactly been going smoothly for me, too. After I almost died from that elite goblin squad—Goblin Force Five—and that slime monster I was going to turn into desert, the Crimson Gold Sect nursed me back to health. From there, they tried to force me into being some Immortal Chef for them.” Gary Stew rolled his eyes.

  “I managed to weasel my way out of it by claiming I saved their young masters just as much as they saved me. It worked, but I still had some debts to pay. Once I make a dish that can help those two young masters overcome their tribulation, I'll be free to go off adventuring again." Gary Stew gave out a long dreamy sigh, as his eyes twinkled with hope.

  "They managed to gather all of these amazing ingredients. But just when the dish was about to be completed, it was misfortune after misfortune after misfortune. Now we're back to square one. I even got yelled at, even though none of it was my fault.“ Gary Stew let out another sigh. This time it was deep, as if the weight of every single problem pulled it down to the ground.

  Was he... Was Gary Stew literally opening up to him? Why?

  "Why are you telling me this?" Niwla finally spoke up.

  "Because I need someone to vent to. And I don't want to accidentally spill some secrets when I let loose my feelings. So who better to tell than a monster headed to the slaughterhouse?"

  Niwla instantly tensed up. He shot glares at Gary Stew as he prepared to unleash a couple of Ice Arrows at the man.

  "Oh, relax. You're not going to die yet. Until they gather the ingredients again, you get to live and be my trusted confidant."

  That did little to calm his nerves.

  "Well, that's my little rant session over. I feel better already." Gary Stew stood up and stretched his hands. "Thanks, little birdie."

  The Monster Chef leaped over the circle of cages and proceeded out the door.

  With his back turned, it was the perfect time to strike.

  "Ice Arrows!"

  Five icicles materialized and shot through the gaps in the cage. They raced across the room, straight towards Gary Stew's exposed back.

  Right before they struck him, a black blur intercepted the shots. The icy attacks shattered into a thousand pieces.

  Gary Stew turned around, unfazed. In his hand was the frying pan. That must've been what he used to stop the Ice Arrows from piercing his flesh.

  There was a pout on his face as he said, "And here I thought we were becoming friends."

  "I guess I was wrong. See you later, little birdie." He waved goodbye and exited through the door, locking it behind him.

  Niwla was left alone again. Now, he had come up with a way to escape, and he might as well do some reflection.

  That not-so-sneak-attack he had just performed proved how much stronger Gary Stew had become. Even without turning, he was able to block all of those shots. What's more, Niwla didn't even see him reach for his frying pan. It had just come out of nowhere.

  Right now, he was too weak to deal with him. And that was just one man.

  Although he had no way to confirm it, Niwla had a strong feeling that he was currently being held captive within the Crimson Gold Sect. Just thinking about all those cultivators waiting outside gave him goosebumps. Even if he got free of his cage, there was no way he was going to make it out of here alive. At least, not yet.

  There was only one way he could come out on top.

  Get stronger.

  Niwla was on a ticking clock. The moment they found suitable ingredients, his time was up. Every second was precious, and even he knew that he was wasting them analyzing the whole situation right now. However, there was only one little thing left before he could focus solely on strengthening himself.

  'Knowledge is power.'

  Those words rang true.

  In order to escape, he needed adequate knowledge about where he was being held captive. The last thing he wanted was to escape the kitchen only to end up in a training hall surrounded by hundreds of cultivators.

  For that, he needed a way to scout ahead. However, he currently possessed no such skills.

  His Spirit Hands and Spirit Feet were too large to be considered stealthy. Even then, they could only travel a fixed distance from him before disappearing. Furthermore, he could only command up to eight pairs at a time. That was far too little to cover the area in a reasonable amount of time.

  Plus, without access to the library, there was only one solution he could think of.

  He would have to either re-invent an existing skill or come up with an original technique that no one had ever thought up before.

  With that, Niwla closed his eyes and plunged his consciousness into his Core.

  It was time to start experimenting.