At the start of this training session, I was knocked into the ground. Then, later on, I was struck so hard I fell unconscious. After that, multiple holes were shot through my body. I have a feeling if I try to fully master the squirrel escape technique, I’ll be killed before I learn the advanced version of dig. “Thank you for teaching me so much, but honestly, it wouldn’t feel right if I learned the squirrel race’s specialized evasion technique. I’ll leave behind some compensation and exit this space.”

I’ll…, right. I was stripped, and I don’t have anything to leave behind but my underwear. I suppose if Lucia keeps my belongings, it’ll count as fair compensation. How do I exit this space anyway? There isn’t exactly a door to leave through. If it’s anything like the jet’s prison, there’s a special gesture one has to make to leave.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Lucia’s bodyguard said and pointed the repeating crossbow at me. “Anyone can learn our squirrel’s evasive technique simply by watching and observing us when we do it. You don’t have to be so polite. We’re all friends here. There’s only one more portion of it to learn anyway; the Blazing Sun Sect’s holy child isn’t a quitter, right?”

I’m absolutely a quitter. I know when to quit while I’m ahead. Heck, I know when to quit while I’m still behind. I’ll even quit before I begin. “No, no, the Blazing Sun Sect has its own evasive techniques I can learn. I might even be criticized for learning yours if my fellow sect members find out. Perhaps in the future, other squirrels might see me use it and attack me to keep it a secret.”

Pew.

Fuck! Instead of peacefully conversing with me, Lucia’s bodyguard shot my knee. Why are squirrels so barbaric and unreasonable!? I’ve only met two so far—three if I include Lucia’s child—but I don’t think it’d be wrong of me to stereotype all squirrels as such. “I changed my mind; you’ve convinced me. I’ll stay and learn the evasive technique with Big Elder Fluffytail.”

Lucia’s bodyguard beamed at me. “Really? That’s great!” She chuckled and looked at Lucia. When Lucia sensed her bodyguard’s gaze, she stiffened, and hundreds of spiritual-energy shells leapt out of her body at once. Like me, Lucia was shot dozens of times but not full of holes. Her bodyguard was going easy on her. The spiritual-energy bolts had pierced me all the way through, but they merely struck Lucia before dissipating.

“Relax, I won’t shoot you anymore,” the white-haired woman said. “You’ve pretty much mastered leap at this point. We’ll move on to the final technique now.”

Lucia stared at her bodyguard for a bit before relaxing her shoulders as the spiritual energy gathered around her disappeared. It’s time to learn the final technique. Does that mean my life is going to end soon? At the very least, something worse than being knocked unconscious and being shot full of holes will happen to me. Maybe I’ll lose a limb. Maybe I’ll lose all my limbs—including the one between my legs.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“The last part of the squirrel evasive technique is—you guessed it—the advanced version of dig,” Lucia’s bodyguard said. “There’s even a special name for it: dag.”

Dag? Dig and dag? Zig and zag? Is this a joke or an example of a squirrel’s poor naming sense?

“Dag? That sounds impressive!” Lucia said, her ears perking up. “Does it have anything to do with stabbing people in the back like daggers?”

“No,” Lucia’s bodyguard said. Her head tilted to the side. “Well…, dag is pretty stealthy, so … if you try really hard, you can connect it to daggers?” The white-haired woman shrugged. “Anyway, like I said, dag is about stealth. Its main purpose is to help you become undetectable after digging into the ground to prevent people from finding you.”

“Prevent people from finding me?” Lucia blinked. “Isn’t that the technique you were talking about? The one that’ll let me prevent people from scanning me with their divine sense! I thought you said I’d have to work on my meditation to make my soul beefier.”

“To avoid someone’s divine sense above ground, it’s difficult without a strong soul,” Lucia’s bodyguard said. “Below ground, there’s some tricks you can play.”

I wasn’t aware of that. It’s common sense that the person with the stronger soul will have a greater advantage using their divine sense and controlling spiritual energy compared to someone with a weaker soul. Do I really have the right to learn this? A technique like this would increase my survivability tremendously … if I can learn it without dying that is.

Lucia’s bodyguard held out her hand, and a small pouch appeared on her palm. She tossed it to Lucia, who fumbled it before snatching it right as it was about to hit the ground. Lucia shivered, and I could see why; the bag was squirming as if an eel were trapped inside wriggling about. “Do I open it…?” Lucia asked, raising an eyebrow at her bodyguard.

“Leave the bag closed; there are dag larvae inside,” the white-haired woman said. She smiled at me. “You, use your divine sense to peek inside the bag.”

I’m not so sure I want to, but if I don’t, maybe the crazy lady will shoot my other knee. I’ll make it quick. One peek inside the bag, and … what the hell is this? Inside the bag, there’s a whole bunch of wriggling blue maggots. They seem to have stopped moving? Why does it feel like they’re staring at me? “Gah!” What the hell! They’re biting me! They’re biting my soul through my divine sense! This is more painful than the time I possessed this body! Even though I retracted my divine sense, they’re still nibbling and digging into my soul!

“Dag larvae are a special type of creature that feeds on people’s souls to grow up,” Lucia’s bodyguard said. I could barely understand her through the sound of my soul being chewed up. “If someone uses their divine sense to detect them, they’ll perform a soul attack. When you dig, all you have to do is open the bag of larvae and occasionally leave one behind as you flee. If anyone tries to track you with their divine sense, they’ll be in for a rude surprise.”

“This counts as an evasive technique?” Lucia asked. I couldn’t tell what she was doing because my vision was blurring as the feeling of vomiting took over my stomach.

“Sure does,” the sadistic, white-haired woman said. “If throwing down a smoke bomb counts as an escape technique, then so does leaving behind dag larvae.”

Who cares if it’s a technique or not!? I’m going to die!