I'm a Carnivorous Plant!

Haeto stared at the glowing translucent screen before him, his missing eyes sharpening with determination as though they had never been absent in the first place.

He didn't care how this system worked, only that it was his.

Like the countless reincarnators in the novels he had read, he now had a tool that could pave his way to greatness.

A sharp laugh escaped his toothed maw, his leaves trembling slightly with excitement.

"A system," he muttered. "With an assistant like this, killing this time will be far smoother."

The words came out his mouth was filled with purest venom from his tainted soul, his voice cold and calculating, but beneath the surface, there was an undercurrent of grim satisfaction.

His excitement swelled as his mind wandered briefly to the absurdity of his situation.

No eyes, yet he could see.

How?

It didn't matter.

Whether it was magic, the system, or this strange body, the "how" was irrelevant.

As long as I have the system, everything is possible, he thought.

The glowing screen flickers slightly, pulling him from his thoughts.

His newfound confidence solidified as the system shifted and a new set of text appeared on the screen.

Mission Issued:

Kill 21-30 insects within 72 hours: Reward - Unknown (Good).

Kill 31-40 insects within 72 hours: Reward - Unknown (Better).

Kill 41-50 insects within 72 hours: Reward - Unknown (Greater).

Kill 51-60 insects within 72 hours: Reward - Unknown (Rare).

Kill 61-70 insects within 72 hours: Reward - Unknown (Epic).

Kill 71-80 insects within 72 hours: Reward - Unknown (Legendary).

Kill 81-90 insects within 72 hours: Reward - Unknown (Mythical).

Kill 91-99 insects within 72 hours: Reward - ???.

Kill 100 insects within 72 hours: Ultimate Reward – Bestowed Evolution.

Haeto's teeth clicked together in satisfaction as he scanned the list, his stalk lifting slightly as though to assert dominance over the forest around him.

Above him, the sky hummed faintly with the droning buzz of insects.

Their tiny black forms flitted in and out of his vision, dancing lazily against the soft green backdrop of leaves and sunlight.

"Easy," Haeto whispered, his voice carrying a smug certainty.

A hundred insects? That was nothing. They were small, fragile things, and the air above him was teeming with them.

He didn't need to hunt them—they would come to him.

He would devour them all and claim his reward.

But just as the first flicker of confidence began to solidify, something strange happened.

The ground in front of him shifted, soil rising in a slow, deliberate motion.

Haeto tilted his head slightly, his sharp teeth glinting as he observed the disturbance.

At first, it was nothing more than a small mound of dirt. But then, with an audible shhfft, a green stalk burst forth from the earth.

It unfurled quickly, its leaves snapping open like sharp-edged fans, and at the top of the stalk, a wide, toothy maw similar to Haeto's own emerged.

Haeto froze. His confidence wavered for a moment, but he quickly pushed the unease down. "Another carnivorous plant," he muttered. "Fine. One competitor won't stop me."

But then, another mound of soil shifted, this time to his left.

Another stalk sprouted, identical to the first, its tooth-filled maw twisting slightly as though tasting the air.

Before Haeto could fully process what he was seeing, a third stalk erupted to his right.

Then a fourth, just behind him.

The ground seemed to come alive with movement, small vibrations rippling through the soil as more and more of the carnivorous plants emerged.

One by one, they sprouted, each one looking eerily similar to Haeto but carrying subtle differences.

Some were larger, their teeth sharper and their stalks thicker.

Others were smaller but quicker, their leaves fluttering with an almost nervous energy.

They surrounded him in an ever-expanding ring, their maws snapping open and closed with faint clicking sounds as though testing their strength.

Haeto's leaves quivered as he tried to maintain his composure.

He stopped counting after the tenth one emerged, but they kept coming.

The forest floor around him was soon crowded with his kind, their dark green stalks stretching toward the sky, their sharp-toothed mouths glinting in the filtered sunlight.

The last one to sprout was the largest.

Its stalk was thick and gnarled, its teeth jagged like broken shards of glass.

It towered over the others, its maw snapping open with a loud, echoing CRACK.

Haeto stared at it, his earlier confidence crumbling into dust.

The sheer number of competitors was overwhelming.

He hadn't even begun his mission, and already, the odds felt stacked against him.

"This..." he muttered, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. "This is too much."

His roots dug deeper into the soil, a futile attempt to ground himself as his body trembled.

He could feel the weight of their presence pressing down on him, suffocating him with the realization that he was no longer unique.

Too many competitors, he thought bitterly. His teeth clicked together in frustration, the sound sharp and angry.

How am I supposed to win if I can't even move?

His rage burned hotter with each passing moment, but it was helpless fury.

He was rooted to the spot, unable to advance, unable to flee, unable to do anything but watch as his "peers" flexed their maws and tested their strength.

"I can't harm them," he muttered, his voice low and venomous. His body trembled with suppressed anger, his sharp teeth grinding together.

They're too close.

Too many.

I can't even move to fight them.

The realization was like a slap in the face.

For all his earlier confidence, all his belief in the system, he was trapped.

Trapped and surrounded by competitors who seemed just as eager to claim the rewards as he was.

He stared at the largest plant, his missing eyes blazing with unspoken rage.

I'll figure it out, he thought, his voice cold and determined in his mind.

I'll get stronger.

I'll survive.

And I'll destroy anyone who gets in my way.

For now, though, he was stuck.

And all he could do was wait.

Haeto's confidence, shaken but still intact, found its anchor in the one unshakable fact: he had the system.

No matter how dire the situation seemed, it didn't matter.

As long as there was no punishment for failure, he could take his time. He could bide his moments, plan, and eventually, he'd outwit these other plants.

After all, the system was his greatest advantage.

But just as this thought brought a flicker of comfort, a sound rang in his mind like a hammer to his resolve:

Ding!

A new message appeared on the glowing translucent screen, and Haeto's vision locked onto it immediately.

Warning:

Failure to complete the mission by killing 21 or more insects in a given time will result in the system being transferred to a more capable carnivorous beast.

Haeto's body stiffened.

For a moment, his plant stalk was still as death, his entire being frozen in disbelief. "What?" he hissed, his voice low and sharp, carrying a venomous edge deeper part of it.

He read the message again, and again, desperately hoping that he had misread it. But no matter how many times he blinked, the words remained the same.

The system wasn't bluffing.

If he failed, it would abandon him and attach itself to one of these other plants.

A sharp, guttural sound escaped his toothed maw. "Damn this!" he roared, his voice vibrating with frustration. "Damn it all! What do you mean the system will disappear and be sent to someone else?"

His leaves trembled violently, and his sharp teeth snapped together with an audible click.

The thought of losing the system wasn't just terrifying—it was infuriating.

The system was his.

It was supposed to be his lifeline, his cheat, his path to power.

The idea of it being handed over to one of these competitors made his green blood boil.

"Does that mean..." His voice dropped to a cold murmur, his words dripping with endless venom, "...that they'll get the advantages I should have? No. No way. That's not happening!"

But just as his anger surged, something strange caught his attention.

The air around him seemed to shift subtly, the faintest change in scent drifting toward him.

His sharp toothed maw twitched, and his focus shifted to the other carnivorous plants around him.

One by one, they began to move—not in a way that would suggest they were uprooting themselves, but in a more fluid, practiced manner.

Their gaping maws tilted upward toward the sky, and from within each mouth, a long, crimson-red tongue unfurled.

The sight was unsettling.

It was like seeing a group of blood creatures preparing to spill the world with blood.

The tongues shot up with a strange precision, each one stretching high above the plant's stalk like a flagpole.

At the tip of each tongue was an oversized bulbous mass, dark and swollen like a ripened fruit.

Haeto's eyes—or whatever sense allowed him to see—narrowed as he observed the tips of these tongues begin to shimmer faintly.

Pffft!

A soft puffing sound broke the forest's quiet, followed by another, then another.

The swollen tips of the tongues were releasing something into the air.

At first, it looked like faint red powder, swirling delicately in the sunlight.

The scent hit him almost immediately—a sweet, cloying fragrance that seemed to crawl its way into his senses.

It was intoxicating, like the sugary aroma of overripe fruit mixed with a faint floral undertone.

Suddenly, the red powder shifted, taking on a more visible form as it spread.

It wasn't just powder—it was pollen.

The air grew thick with it, the swirling clouds creating a haze of sugary red that hung heavily around the plants.

And then Haeto felt it. Deep inside his alien body, something stirred.

An instinct buried so deeply within him that it was primal, unthinking, and undeniable.

This pollen wasn't just a lure; it was an invitation.

A signal to the insects above, a promise of sweetness, nourishment, and irresistible attraction.

The buzzing sound from the canopy above intensified, a droning hum that made the air vibrate.

Haeto didn't need to look to know what was happening.

The insects were coming, drawn to the sweet lure of the pollen.

He felt a surge of anger as he realized what was happening.

"They started without me," he growled, his voice trembling with rage. His leaves bristled, and his sharp teeth snapped shut with an audible clack. "Those bastards... they're attracting the insects before I even had a chance!"

His instincts flared again, that same primal knowledge rising to the surface.

He knew, without being told, that he could do the same thing.

His own tongue, his own pollen—it was there, waiting to be released, waiting to lure the prey.

"Fine," Haeto muttered darkly, his voice a low growl. "If they want to play this game, I'll play too."

With a deep breath—though he didn't have lungs—he focused on the strange sensation within him.

His mouth opened wide, his sharp teeth parting to reveal the deep red interior of his maw.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, his tongue began to uncoil.

The sensation was strange, almost alien, as the long crimson tongue stretched upward.

He could feel the weight of the bulbous tip, heavy and swollen, filled with the same sweet pollen as the others.

The moment the tip reached its peak, Haeto instinctively flexed, and with a soft pfft, the red powder began to release.

The sugary sweet scent filled the air around him, mingling with the pollen clouds of the other plants.

The forest floor seemed to shimmer faintly, the combined haze of red creating an almost otherworldly glow.

Haeto's anger simmered beneath the surface, his earlier confidence replaced by a grim determination.

He wasn't just competing now—he was fighting to survive.

The system was his lifeline, and he wasn't going to let it slip away.

He tilted his maw toward the sky, his voice low and resolute. "This is my game," he whispered. "And I'll make sure they all lose."