"Tsrururu? (Dad, then what should we call that lady? She doesn't look anything like Sister Yeondu?)"
"That's because she's not a dragon."
"Tsrut? (She's not a dragon? Then since she flies... is she a bird?)"
"Tst. (She must be a bird, sister. She flies.)"
"Tsts. (Is she really a bird?)"
"Shaaa. (I heard birds are supposed to have wings, Hyang.)"
"Tsrurururt? (But Sister Jeokwol has wings too, and she’s not a bird?)"
"Shaaaa. (Ah... now that you mention it, Sister Jeokwol does have wings but she’s not a bird either. Then what exactly do we call that one? So-ryong-nim, what should we call her?)"
Bini, Hyang, and Yeondu all looked at the creature and asked what it was.
Of course they didn’t know—it was something they’d never seen before.
Even people who live by the sea rarely get to see something like this.
No—living by the sea wouldn’t guarantee anything. It was a rare creature even there.
"I mean, that thing is..."
I tried to answer the children’s question.
But I couldn’t.
Because I didn’t know what it was called in the language of the Central Plains.
After reincarnating into this world, I could speak the local language naturally—but only for everyday life.
Words I had never used simply didn’t come to me.
The only name I knew was from my previous life.
But that clearly wasn’t its name here.
After thinking it over, I decided to use a cheat—Mommy cheat. In other words, the Hwa-eun card.
I figured Gun Hye-rin wouldn’t know.
Hwa-eun, being a rich girl, might have eaten it once or twice. But Gun Hye-rin was from deep inland and had spent most of her life hiding. I doubted she ever tasted something this luxurious.
In this world, marine delicacies were rare due to poor transportation.
Even if Hye-rin had once been of noble birth, she’d been in hiding in the mountains for a long time. She wouldn’t have had the chance to eat something like that.
And even if she did, wouldn’t people talk?
It would’ve looked suspicious—like she was setting herself up for a coup.
Everyone else is suffering, and the top person is feasting?
That’s how Caesar ends up stabbed by Brutus.
"Master, w-what is that?"
Sure enough, Gun Hye-rin asked a moment later.
Just as I expected.
I turned to the children and said,
"It’s like... a sea something. Let’s ask Mommy. Daddy knows what it is, just not the name."
"Tsrurut. (Okay.)"
"Tsru. (Got it, Dad.)"
"Mommy might be asleep, so Daddy will message her."
Hwa-eun, are you asleep right now?
Even though the group chat was full of chatter, she hadn’t responded once.
She had definitely left the chat.
Normally, with us being this noisy, she would’ve popped in and asked what was going on.
Nope. Why? I was just circulating my qi. What’s up, So-ryong?
Her voice came right away.
It was still early evening, so she wasn’t asleep yet.
Perfect.
I got right to the point.
I have a question.
A question?
Yeah. It’s a sea creature. Transparent body, lots of legs, floats softly in the water... what’s it called?
Transparent body, lots of legs, floats in the water?
She repeated my awkward, blind-man-description like she didn’t get it.
So I rephrased it quickly.
Right—uh, the one they dry and use for cold dishes. Crunchy texture... that one.
Cold dishes? Oh! Are you talking about jellyfish?
Jellyfish?
Yeah. If it’s the one that gets dried, then soaked and mixed with sour sauce—it’s called Water Mother or Sea Stinger.
Ah, got it.
So jellyfish in the Central Plains were called Water Mother or Sea Stinger.
Water Mother literally meant “mother of water.”
Sea Stinger used the characters for "sea" and "sting"—a name that clearly reflected its nature.
As I was thinking about that, Hwa-eun asked,
But why do you ask?
Ah! I just came across a spirit beast and venomous creature that holds the Rain position in the constellation of Cloud-Rain-Snow-Hail. The Seven-Colored Rain Sea.
I’d been surprised when I first saw it, but the name came to mind immediately.
One of the last venom beasts I still had to find.
The seven-colored shimmer had made it obvious.
I hadn’t thought of it earlier because Gun Hye-rin had gone on about immortals, fairies, and dragons.
Wait—what? Just now? Where?
It suddenly appeared here.
Well... I guess I shouldn’t be surprised anymore. You really are amazing, So-ryong.
She was clearly taken aback at first.
I’d told her I was stuck on an island, and now I’d found the Seven-Colored Rain Sea?
But then her tone changed, like she’d accepted that this was just typical for me.
The guy who steps outside and finds spirit beasts like loose change on the ground.
The guy who trips and lands ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) on a divine beast.
That’s me.
Then she asked about the creature’s habitat.
Come to think of it, remember when we talked about the Seven-Colored Rain Sea? We figured it’d live in the ocean, or maybe a lake or a wide river. So it really was the sea, huh?
I looked at the creature drifting in and out of the clouds and replied.
"Yes, it’s the sea... but I found it in the sky above the sea."
...Wait, what? The sky?
"Yeah. It’s flying."
...What?
The line went quiet.
A jellyfish flying through the sky—it was hard to believe, even for her.
Then she asked, trying to confirm.
You’re telling me the Seven-Colored Rain Sea flies?
"Yeah. I’m looking right at it, and I still can’t believe it myself."
And there was a reason for her reaction.
We had talked about this not long ago—about the spirit beasts I still needed to find.
We both assumed that the Seven-Colored Rain Sea would live in the ocean or a large river or lake.
Because of course a jellyfish would live in water.
And a spirit beast based on one would logically do the same.
Jellyfish are gelatinous aquatic invertebrates—medusozoans.
They float in lakes, ponds, seas—always water.
So yeah, the fact that it was flying was shocking.
But after the shock passed—it turned into joy.
The creature drifting in the air was, in any case, a spectacular sight.
A jellyfish flying through the sky.
How amazing is that?
While I was still admiring its graceful form, Hwa-eun’s voice came through, tinged with worry.
“So-ryong, but... do you think you can catch that one—or befriend it, I mean? You said before that it might be hard to make that one a friend, remember?”
She must have recalled what I had said earlier.
That was true—I had said this:
“But I’m not sure I’ll be able to bring this one back.”
“Why not?”
“Its body is extremely delicate. Unlike the others, which can swim on their own, this one just drifts in the water...”
Jellyfish are made of 94 to 98 percent water, flexible and transparent, which makes them fragile and easy to break from even the slightest impact.
That was why I was worried.
As someone obsessed with collecting venomous creatures, I’d always wanted to raise a jellyfish at least once.
Jellyfish have stinging cells called cnidocytes, which they use to stun prey or defend themselves from predators.
It was exactly the kind of venomous creature that triggered my collector’s instincts.
Even the way they moved so gently through the water was known to relieve stress. There was even a jellyfish-raising craze in Japan and back home at one point.
But I never got to live that dream—not because it was illegal or anything.
Jellyfish aren’t protected, so you can catch them from the sea legally, and there are plenty of small species you could choose from and raise.
The reason I couldn’t do it?
Their insane difficulty level.
You’d think it wouldn’t be a big deal given how trendy jellyfish-raising was, but compared to other creatures, they were a nightmare to care for.
If you asked an aquarium what the hardest animal to raise is, jellyfish would definitely make the list.
Because their bodies are so fragile, they can’t swim on their own, so you have to create a current in the tank.
But their bodies are so soft that even that current can tear them apart.
Even tiny air bubbles in the water can injure them.
And if the tank is rectangular, they’ll drift into the corners and die.
That’s why jellyfish are usually kept in round tanks with a gentle circular current.
So they don’t crash into corners and die, they’re raised in special round aquariums.
And that’s not even all.
Most jellyfish feed on plankton or live prey, so you have to constantly supply live brine shrimp or other fresh food, which is not easy to maintain at home.
You’d have to keep breeding the food yourself.
That’s why the trend didn’t last—people quickly gave up.
It was too much hassle, and they died quickly anyway.
Even in my past life, where breeding technology was advanced, they were still that difficult to raise. So how could I possibly raise one here in the Central Plains?
What about water quality? Water changes? Temperature?
There was no way to control any of it.
That’s why I said it might be impossible to raise one.
But now... things looked a lot more promising than I’d imagined.
“In fact, it’s better like this than if it lived in the water.”
“Better?”
“Yes. It flies on its own.”
If I was going to raise it, I needed a few conditions to be met.
Its body had to be strong.
It had to be able to swim on its own.
And it had to live in fresh water.
But if it could fly through the air, then the fresh water issue and the need to swim on its own became irrelevant. That made things a lot easier than if it had stayed in the water.
I’d still have to verify, but it even looked sturdy.
I spoke to Hwa-eun right away.
“Hwa-eun, let’s talk later. I’m going to try talking to this friend.”
“All right. Be careful not to do anything dangerous.”
“I will.”
After ending the call with Hwa-eun, I slowly approached the creature.
But not too closely.
I didn’t want to startle it.
“Jeokwol, sister, slowly reveal yourself. Let’s not scare her. Though... is this the front?”
I had no idea which part of it was the front, so I moved around and settled in the spot that seemed most likely, then slowly made myself visible.
“Ah, hi there?”
At that, the startled creature immediately began turning transparent.
So that’s how it escaped earlier—it had the ability to make itself invisible.
“W-wait a second! I’m not some weirdo!”
I shouted and stepped forward with the kids, but the creature had already vanished.
I was sure it wasn’t capable of moving that fast, but there was no sign of it where it had been.
I waved my hand around, walked through the area—it didn’t respond.
Even in my infrared vision, and with the kids’ sensory range, we couldn’t detect a thing.
“Where’d it go?”
"Tsrurut. (Sister? Let’s talk.)"
"Shaaa. (We’re not bad people. I mean, we’re not bad snakes.)"
"Tsshhh."
Even after calling out and searching the area for a while, it didn’t reappear.
Maybe if I went closer to the ground, it would come back?
I moved toward the surface—but nothing.
"Kisshit. (Big brother, what happened? Did you see the dragon?)"
Yoha asked if I’d seen the dragon, but I could only stare up at the sky in silence.
Fwwwoooosh...
The rain slowly began to thicken again, and thunder and lightning started to rumble.
Rumble—crack!
***
Because of the lightning, we couldn’t continue the search.
Regret gnawed at me as I scoured the skies until dawn, but the Seven-Colored Rain Sea didn’t show itself again.
Who would’ve thought Spicy Fabre would go out on a collection run and return empty-handed?
I was so disappointed I couldn’t sleep for two days.
“Ugh. I missed it. The name of Spicy Fabre weeps in shame!”
By the third day, I finally managed to pull myself together and nap during the day.
When I woke up, it was the middle of the night.
I looked around.
All the kids were fast asleep.
The campfire crackled softly, and Gun Hye-rin, also asleep, scrunched her nose in her sleep as Moji and Soji licked her ears and nose.
Hungry, I grabbed a piece of smoked dolphin meat, cut off a bit, and chewed absentmindedly as I lay down and munched.
Suddenly, I felt a flicker in the corner of the ceiling.
It looked like a glow—like the faint light of a firefly.
At first, I thought I was seeing things.
No way there were fireflies on this island.
But there, in the corner of the ceiling, a tiny light was shimmering.
“Light?”
I focused my vision to see more clearly—and spotted it.
A small, seven-colored jellyfish peeking its head from behind a ceiling beam.
It was watching me.
“...Hooooly crap.”
