Reverse Interview 4: A Bolt from the Blue
A bolt from the blue.
No—more like getting whacked with a pestle in the dead of night.
For once in a long while, I had been sleeping sweetly in an actual bed instead of on the roadside. I must have dozed off sitting up earlier, and one of the Tang Family warriors had carried me into a room. Honestly, I woke up while being moved, but I just kept pretending to sleep. I was exhausted, after all.
But maybe someone resented how soundly I was sleeping while they were stuck working hard? I had no choice but to wake when Uncle Cheol-san’s palm cracked across my cheek.
What greeted my newly opened eyes was a creature that looked like a stink bug. Its name was none other than the Kissing Insect.
Break down the meaning and you get “the bug that kisses.” The name might sound lewd enough to stir sticky, steamy thoughts, but the name I’d known it by in my previous life was the Kissing Bug as well—it really was a kissing insect.
Wait, why the hell are these bastards here?
Kissing bugs come in many species and turn up all over the world, but the one that had tried to bite me and gotten caught had a repeating orange-and-black pattern ringing its abdomen. That was the most dangerous kind, the one you really had to watch out for.
Being slapped had put me in a foul mood for a second, but if it had saved me from a bite, the slap was practically a blessing. This little monster had ranked among the world’s top ten poisonous insects in my previous life.
Hold on! Swelling of the eyelids, mild fever, local lesions, heart syndrome… arrhythmia!? Why didn’t I think of that sooner!?
The instant I identified the kissing bug, I also realized what was causing the mysterious plague among the villagers.
Kissing bugs are assassin bugs of the family Reduviidae; they earned their name by sucking blood from around the eyes or lips of sleeping people. The bugs themselves aren’t much of a problem. They’re so stealthy they approach more quietly than mosquitoes, and most people never even notice the bite. The bite site rarely causes serious trouble either. That’s why they’re also called vampire bugs—or assassin bugs—because of how silently they strike.
The real problem is the pathogen, the poison they carry. More precisely, the parasite living inside them: Trypanosoma cruzi.
In my previous life, roughly half of all individuals were known to be infected with that parasite, and it causes a disease most of us have never heard of—Chagas disease. These bastards defecate while they feed, and the parasites in their feces are what trigger the infection. Sometimes people say the bite alone infects you, but the real culprit is the droppings.
“Elder, hurry and ask the village chief for some baijiu!”
“Baijiu? No matter how angry you are… you’re still too young to be drinking—”
Uncle Cheol-san looked startled when I suddenly demanded liquor, but I wasn’t planning to drink it. I needed it for disinfection. I wasn’t sure distilled baijiu would sterilize anything, yet it was better than nothing. Crushing a kissing bug releases the parasites inside, which is why overseas warnings always say never to smash them with your bare hands. You’re supposed to trap them in a container and freeze them to death.
“It’s not for drinking. That insect carries poison—I need to wash it off with baijiu!”
“What!? This bug is poisonous?”
“Yes! Please get the chief’s baijiu right away!”
“I’ll be fine, but you might not. Gu Pae! Quickly request some baijiu from the village chief.”
“Yes, Family Head!”
One of the Tang warriors sprinted out and returned moments later with the chief and a jug of baijiu.
“Young hero, here it is!”
“Thank you!”
I soaked a cloth and quickly wiped my still-stinging cheek, then cleaned Uncle Cheol-san’s hand as well even though he insisted he was fine. After that I used a twig to lift the fallen kissing bug and set it in a bowl.
“I’ve never seen this poisonous insect before. Is it truly that deadly? From the way you look, it doesn’t seem all that dangerous.”
Uncle Cheol-san and the warrior watched me with curious faces. Even the chief, who had been dragged along, blinked in confusion—he had, after all, been hauled out of bed in the middle of the night with a jug of liquor.
“Yes. But once we confirm it, I believe this little creature is the cause of the plague among the villagers.”
“What!? The girl’s illness?”
“Young hero, is that true!?”
“R-really, young hero!? Our Mae-jin is sick because of this bug!?”
Uncle Cheol-san, the Tang warrior, and the chief all stared at me in disbelief. Now that the kissing bug had been identified, the first thing to check was the animals. I asked the chief about the village dogs. If this really was Chagas disease from kissing bugs, the illness wouldn’t distinguish between animals and people—parasites jump hosts without caring.
“Chief, have the village dogs been short of breath or showing the same symptoms as the people? Have any wasted away and died?”
“That’s right! How did you know!?”
Just as I expected—the dogs had suffered the same symptoms. This was definitely Chagas disease.
But why? This bug and this disease only appear in South America. How can they be here?
In my previous life, Chagas disease had originated in South America and spread north. Kissing bugs themselves exist worldwide, but the ones carrying T. cruzi were limited to that region. In a world of frequent travel they might turn up anywhere, but this era wasn’t like that.
“Th-then… c-can we save our Mae-jin!?”
Honestly, Chagas was a dangerous disease, yet the early treatment was simple: take antiparasitic medicine. Once it progressed to severe stages and deformed the heart or organs, it became nearly impossible to reverse—but early symptoms responded readily to the drugs. You had to take them for more than two months, but the cure was reliable. In my previous life, simply identifying the symptoms meant treatment was rarely a problem…
The problem was that I knew the information about poisonous creatures, their venoms, and how to treat those venoms—I just couldn’t manufacture the medicines. I knew benzimidazole was the drug, but I had no idea how to make it. So when the chief asked, I could only answer with a guilty expression.
“W-well…”
Uncle Cheol-san looked puzzled.
“What’s wrong, young hero? You know the bug is the cause—why that face?”
I wondered whether he would understand that parasites lived inside the insect and caused the illness, but I decided to explain anyway. If I could make Uncle Cheol-san understand, he could at least explain to the others why I couldn’t treat it. Bonus if everyone else understood too.
“Actually, this kissing insect doesn’t have poison.”
“Hm? You clearly said it was poisonous earlier. You even wiped yourself down with baijiu.”
Everyone looked baffled—I’d said it had poison and then said it didn’t. I nodded and continued.
“Yes. Because something else is inside it.”
“Something else?”
“What do you mean?”
“Inside this insect’s belly are countless tiny worms too small to see. When the bug bites people near the mouth and then defecates, those worms mix with the feces and enter the human body. They multiply inside and settle in the heart.”
“Worms!? Invisible ones?”
“Think of them as the same kind of thing as roundworms.”
“Ah! Roundworms!”
Roundworms—the Central Plains term for ascarids. Uncle Cheol-san nodded in understanding.
“Yes. Just like roundworms, they multiply wildly inside the body and lodge in the heart. Once there, they interfere with the heartbeat until the person finally dies. But I don’t know the medicine for them, so…”
I trailed off with a regretful expression. The village chief’s tears and wails poured out at once. Learning that I didn’t know how to save his granddaughter, he began to sob in despair.
“Th-then we can’t save our Mae-jin!? E-Elder, is that true!? Hic… Mae-jin!”
In complete contrast, an oddly proud voice floated over from Uncle Cheol-san’s side—the tone of a man bursting with self-satisfaction.
“Did you see that, Gu Pae? This is the young hero’s true worth. Didn’t I tell you?”
“Indeed. This Gu Pae momentarily entertained foolish doubts. I questioned the Family Head’s eye for talent; I will gladly accept whatever punishment comes later.”
After that cryptic exchange, Uncle Cheol-san clapped me on the shoulder.
“Young hero, what are you worrying about? We’re the Sichuan Tang Family.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said we’re the Sichuan Tang Family.”
So what!? Why do you keep going on about the Sichuan Tang Family!? Some clan stuck in a corner of Sichuan—what the hell does that matter right now!?
Whether it was the Sichuan Tang Family or the Three-Thousand Tang Family, people were dying and all this ahjussi could do was brag about his clan. I was about to give him the worst possible score on this reverse interview for personality problems when Uncle Cheol-san smiled and asked,
“Young hero, have you ever heard of Gu?”
Probably not the Gu from Three Kingdoms or whatever…
The sudden word “Gu.” When I blinked blankly, Uncle Cheol-san explained.
“Gu refers to what we call shamanic Gu or Gu poison—venomous creatures raised by the wicked folk of the Central Plains. They come in all sizes. When fed to a person, they parasitically nest in the body, periodically causing agony or even controlling the host.”
“Controlling people… that’s impressive.”
Raising parasites that could control humans and force-feeding them—this world truly had every kind of insect imaginable. It even explained how kissing bugs had turned up in a place they didn’t belong.
Uncle Cheol-san answered with a sorrowful face.
“Yes, impressive if you put it that way. But many martial artists have lost their lives to Gu. Some, under its influence, have cut down their own children and then taken their own lives. Others have betrayed parents and clan to become slaves of evil men.”
“That’s horrible…”
“Mae-jin! Waaah!”
Even as the chief continued wailing, Uncle Cheol-san calmly pressed on.
“So martial artists poured their efforts into creating antidotes to free themselves from Gu poison—medicines that force Gu out of the body or melt them away entirely.”
“With that much damage, of course they would.”
“Exactly.”
So basically antiparasitic drugs? Even across eras and worlds, people think alike.
Different times, different circumstances, but human minds run on the same tracks. Uncle Cheol-san’s next question followed.
“So, if martial artists were going to make such a medicine, where do you think they would make it?”
“I wouldn’t know…”
I knew nothing of the murim, so I couldn’t answer. At my final uncertainty, Uncle Cheol-san smiled and drew a small pill case from his robes.
“Naturally, our Great Sichuan Tang Family. We have medicine that can melt even a fist-sized Gu that has entered the body. Why would invisible little mites be a problem?”
“You mean…?”
“That’s right. Since ancient times our Sichuan Tang Family has crafted many remedies against Gu poison. We created pills that dissolve every last roundworm-like creature inside a person with only a tiny dose. Of course it doesn’t work on every Gu, but for invisible mites like these, a little of our Sichuan Tang Family’s Myriad Poisons Melting Pill should be more than enough.”
“Myriad Poisons Melting Pill!”
In the end it was just an antiparasitic, but damn if that name wasn’t badass. A pill that melts every Gu—my whole body trembled with excitement. Even the most ridiculous men have their own brand of romance, right? The kind where you play soccer in the rain laughing like a maniac, or where no matter your age you still want to be the strongest guy around.
I followed Uncle Cheol-san to the room where the little girl lay. He broke off a tiny piece of the pill and slipped it into her mouth. It dissolved like water and slid down her throat. Moments later her chest, which had been rising and falling in irregular, anxious rhythms, gradually steadied. Her eyelids fluttered.
“Mae… Mae-jin!”
“…G-Grandfather?”
“Mae-jin! You’re alive!”
The village chief sobbed. My own nose stung at the sight. And I found myself thinking that maybe becoming a full-time employee of the Sichuan Tang Family wouldn’t be so bad after all.
That was actually pretty cool.