At the mention of “thousands of them,” both Hwa-eun and Sister Seol widened their eyes in disbelief.
But soon, their questions came calmly, as if they’d steadied their nerves.
"Still, there's a way, right?"
"So-ryong, you have a plan, don’t you?"
As always, they looked at me with the expectation that I’d come up with something—but this time, I couldn’t answer so easily.
Getting rid of a mass outbreak of stickyworms was no simple task.
Even in my past life, countless biologists had studied large-scale stickyworm infestations for years, trying to find a solution—only to come up empty.
Some might scoff—Isn’t that what pesticides are for?
But when it comes to mass outbreaks of a species, it’s standard practice to first seek an eco-friendly method of elimination rather than defaulting to chemicals.
Like releasing ladybugs into aphid-infested fields—a natural solution. Chemical insecticides might work, but the ecological impact is hard to assess in the short term.
Take DDT for example—a nightmarish neurotoxin that kills insects by frying their nervous systems.
At one time, DDT was hailed as a revolutionary insecticide for eradicating pests like bedbugs. But its toxicity accumulated in top predators, leading to massive population crashes in bald eagles, vultures, pelicans, and more.
That's why the first approach is always to seek natural countermeasures. But stickyworms? They had no natural predators.
They reproduced rapidly and were venomous, making them effectively untouchable in the wild.
They carried tetrodotoxin in their bodies—who in their right mind would eat one of those?
Only certain species with tetrodotoxin resistance—like pufferfish, blue-ringed octopuses, some sea snakes, and California newts—could eat them. But even those species didn’t prefer stickyworms.
With more appetizing prey around, there was no reason to go after something so toxic.
On top of that, these particular stickyworms thrived in brackish zones. They could move between freshwater and saltwater, so they couldn’t be killed off with osmotic shock either.
"Why aren’t you answering?"
"Wait... is this too much even for you, So-ryong?"
They pressed further, and I nodded.
"Yes. These things are insignificant vermin at first glance, so they don't have natural predators..."
And frankly, I didn’t have some miracle fix either.
Even teams of biologists had failed to solve this. What could I—even Spicy Fabre, the great know-it-all—possibly do?
"What!? Then what do we do?"
"Yeah—what now?"
I paused to think. Fortunately, the situation wasn’t yet critical.
There was [N O V E L I G H T] only a possibility of a mass outbreak—not an actual outbreak yet.
"It's still manageable for now. If we can catch at least one of the two before they reproduce, we’ll be okay."
If they’d already multiplied massively, then yes—there wouldn’t be much anyone could do.
But that stage hadn’t arrived yet.
Which meant there was still hope.
And the solution? Surprisingly simple.
Take out both—or at least one—before they multiplied.
Operation: Don’t Let Them See the Sky.
I may have done it a hundred times, but the point is to make sure those things can’t mate. You need to see the stars to catch them, right? If they can’t see the sky, they can’t do anything.
The stickyworm had been nearly sliced apart by Gun Hye-rin’s blade.
It fled with its lower half dragging, so its body had likely split in two.
It seemed urgent, but this also gave us an advantage: the body was divided, which meant both halves needed time to regenerate.
If the body was split, then both the head and tail segments had to recover on their own.
Even if some healing technique had been applied to maximize regeneration, it was clear the headless half would take longer to recover.
Think back to elementary school science and planarians: tails grow back in about 7 to 8 days, but regenerating a head takes over 10 days.
Tails—mostly muscle and cartilage—aren’t hard to regrow. But heads?
That’s the brain, the eyes.
The ears, sensory organs—all crucial systems that require rebuilding.
So while the headless segment was regenerating, if we could just catch the tail-recovered segment quickly, we’d be good.
The headless half likely wouldn’t be able to move until regeneration completed. But the head-bearing segment, even if incomplete, would probably be compelled by the Five Venoms Sect to go hunting again.
Healing takes energy. To recover quickly, it would need to feed—and that means attacking people.
So if we lay in wait and take down even one of them fast enough, we can prevent the worst-case scenario—reproduction.
And even if both halves survive and fully regenerate, we’d still have a bit of breathing room.
If they’re dioecious, then either the male has to grow new testes or the female needs to produce eggs again before they can breed. And even if they’re hermaphrodites, they still need to regrow their sexual organs.
So if we catch them before that happens, we're in the clear.
"But what if the wounds are so bad they can’t move until they’ve healed? What if they just wait and then pop out babies right away?"
"It takes a long time for the head to regenerate, but the tail grows back quicker. If the creature wants to heal, it’ll need to feed—so the tail-half will definitely move first.
If we can capture just one, we’re safe. Fertilization requires a male. No mating means no eggs."
“Whew. So we’re still okay for now? That’s a relief. Let’s mobilize as many people as we can and catch one, no matter what.”
“Understood, Sister Seol.”
“And you’re not forgetting anything, right? If you suddenly remember something else, I might faint on the spot.”
“I think we’re good this time.”
Just as I reassured the worried Sister Seol—
—Crash!
“Eek! Wh-What was that!?”
Suddenly, Sister Seol was pushed aside at the door.
We hadn’t let her in, even as the conversation dragged on, because of... well, the smell inside—and the state of the bed.
There’s being shameless, and then there’s showing someone the scene. They’re not the same.
So Sister Seol had been holding the door from outside this whole time—and now something had pushed her aside.
“Cheong-yu?”
What appeared was a golden horn.
It was Golden Crown Spirit King Cheong-yu.
“Ah—sorry, sorry. I guess the talk dragged on.
Ah... She followed me when I said I’d come see you. I promised she could peek at your face, but I guess she got annoyed when you wouldn’t open the door.”
Judging by Sister Seol’s tone, Cheong-yu must’ve come with her. When the wait got too long, she must’ve shoved Seol aside to barge in.
“Cheong-yu, did you want to see big brother?”
It was broad daylight, so that childlike behavior had to be coming from Golden Crown Spirit King Cheong-yu.
Just as I stroked her head, she suddenly spoke with urgency.
–Shia. 『So-ryong-nim, just a moment. Cheong-yu says she has something to say.』
“Huh? Cheong-yu? Cheong-yu Sojeo?”
–Shiaa 『Yes, just a moment.』
It seemed that the one wanting to speak was Cheong-yu Sojeo inside the Golden Crown Spirit King.
Suddenly, the spirit king staggered and shook her head—and her voice shifted to Cheong-yu Sojeo’s tone.
–Shia. 『So-ryong, while listening just now, I remembered something I hadn’t thought of earlier. That’s why I came out so urgently.』
It was unusual—Cheong-yu Sojeo had never surfaced during the daytime before. I found it odd.
But when I heard the word “urgent,” tension immediately spiked.
I’d last met Cheong-yu Sojeo just before sunset, earlier today.
Back then, our conversation had been about the Five Venoms Sect’s secret technique...
If it was urgent, then it had to be related to the stickyworm.
“What is it? Don’t tell me—it’s the Five Venoms Sect? The segmented worm? Did we miss something during our last talk?”
I asked, tension rising in my voice. Cheong-yu Sojeo nodded and posed a question of her own.
–Shia. 『Is the segmented worm... aggressive?』
“Aggressive?”
Asking whether a worm-like creature was aggressive or not—it was hard to apply that kind of concept here.
These creatures were, after all, simple beings: eat when hungry, sleep when full.
They didn’t operate on notions of good or evil—they simply acted on instinct.
“Well... They’re simple creatures. Eat when they’re hungry, sleep when they’re full. So it’s hard to say they’re ‘good’ or ‘evil.’
Like any wild beast or insect, they act on instinct to survive. But why do you ask?”
When I returned the question—asking why she’d raise such a point—Cheong-yu Sojeo began to explain.
–Shiaaa. 『Because when I heard they could split in two, I suddenly realized something terrible might happen. It’s something neither you nor I had thought of.』
“Something terrible?”
–Shia. 『Yes. After a venomous creature is raised using the Five Venoms Sect’s technique, they use a method called the Five Venoms Detonation-Submersion Technique to issue effective commands. Do you remember what I said about that technique before?』
“Oh, right. It suppresses the creature’s will and makes it obey the caster, and also allows the formation of a Neidan in its body, right?
And if the target is a small bug, it just forces obedience without forming a core?”
I remembered that clearly. The raising of the creatures involved one technique, and the Five Venoms Detonation-Submersion Technique—the one involving silver needles—was used to create Neidan and enforce control.
That silver needle embedded in Cheong-yu Sojeo’s head had been a trace of that very technique. Insects don’t understand speech, so they’d enlarge the creatures and stab them with the needle to control them.
–Shiiiia. 『Correct.』
Cheong-yu Sojeo nodded, confirming my understanding.
Just as I was thinking, Wow, I really am a decent student, she continued.
–Shii. 『So-ryong, you said the segmented worm was split in half, right?』
“That’s right.”
–Shiaaa. 『We naturally assumed the Five Venoms Sect would control both halves. But that’s not necessarily true.
The lower half, the one cut from the torso down, would’ve been freed from the needle. That means it might not behave the way you expect—it could act purely on instinct.』
“...Oh crap!”
She was absolutely right.
I had assumed both halves would continue under the Five Venoms Sect’s control. But the lower half had been severed—freed from the needle.
If, during its escape, the stickyworm dropped its lower half into the water...
Who knew how it would act?
***
–SPLASH.
Something massive sliced through the water behind it.
The long worm, half-shredded and fleeing through the water, decided to burrow into the mud to evade its pursuer.
That seemed like the only possible escape from the enormous thing closing in from behind.
It was fast—too fast. At this rate, it would be caught.
It had seen those sharp jaws as it had crashed down from the sky earlier.
If it got caught, it would be torn to pieces—no question.
Whether it could escape or not didn’t matter. This was the only chance to survive.
It dove into the mud. The water around it darkened as the stirred silt billowed outward.
Its pursuer let out a furious cry, stirring the water in rage.
–Tsrrrrrr! 『HEY! You’re not coming out?! Get out here! Get out!! You dare touch my mom—!』
Terror rushed in, but the worm held its breath in the mud, staying perfectly still as if it were dead.
After a while of thrashing, the presence of the thing outside faded.
But it couldn’t resurface just yet. It had to remain hidden for quite a while longer.
How much time had passed?
A sharp pain suddenly pierced its head—reminding it of something: it had to return to its master’s cave.
Just as it began to crawl out of the mud—
It realized it had forgotten something in its panic: a piece of its body was missing.
And then, something wrapped around its body, just as it emerged.
–SPLASH.
–Grrrrrrr.
It flailed in surprise—but soon noticed its thoughts were resonating with the new presence.
Their wills were synchronizing.
Startled at first, it calmed down—because the energy it felt was familiar.
Yes... this thing was the same as it.
And the moment it realized that, it was overcome by the first sense of peace it had ever known.
But then, pain sparked again in its brain—a sharp reminder: Return to the master.
Just as its body started moving toward the cave on instinct—
Its other half, now crawling over its head, plucked something out.
–Krrrk.
A sharp object was pulled from its skull—and agony followed.
It thrashed wildly underwater. But all it could think was: Obey the master’s orders.
Until something else was pulled from deep within its mind.
And just like that—master—was gone from its memory.
That “master” was the one who had pierced it with needles, pumped it full of pain, and used flutes to punish it for disobedience.
The moment that last remnant was removed, it understood something:
The prey it had hunted and the one it called master—they were the same.
Why had it feared them?
Why had it obeyed them?
They were just food.
Now reborn from one into two, the creature swam through the water—headed for the cave.
To devour them.
