Don't Take It Out
He searched for information. He picked up the worm.
An organic gemstone formed when tree resin fossilized tens of millions of years ago.
Often discovered with insects or plants trapped inside, it is also called a “time capsule.”
▪ It is occasionally found inside supernatural phenomena known as Gates, and its value varies wildly depending on the purity of the mana it contains.
Recent research has reported that the darker the amber’s color, the higher the purity of its mana.
▪ However, if amber is discovered containing insects, plants, or some unidentifiable grotesque entity, it must be reported to the Hunter Association immediately.
The damage that occurs when an insect, plant, or grotesque entity sealed inside amber is released into the world ranges from building lockdowns to, in severe cases, the quarantine of an entire city—far beyond ordinary imagination.
▪ Similar incidents have occurred domestically as well.
For details, refer to the document 「Erosion Quarantine Zone — Suraksan」 .
Hmm… so that’s how it is.
Kang Yul closed the gallery window and examined the amber stone.
Scratches on the surface left it somewhat opaque, yet the deep crimson hue still stood out clearly. Since darker amber meant higher mana purity, this piece ranked among the finest in quality.
Factoring in its watermelon-sized bulk, the stone was a treasure so rare its value defied easy conversion into money. The moment it hit the open market, government agencies and corporations alike would scramble over one another in a frenzy to claim it…
Except the bug inside is the problem.
When Kang Yul shone a light through the amber, the silhouette of a curled-up insect became visible at the center. The shape alone made precise identification impossible, but at a glance it resembled a larva coiled into a ball.
Thought I’d finally scored something decent, but looks like another bust.
If a supernatural life-form was sealed inside amber, trade became impossible. Of course he could try selling it under the table. The instant the deal came to light, however, a hunter under exclusive Association contract would show up screaming, “You traitorous bastard selling out the country for cash—!” and proceed to pulverize Kang Yul’s limbs before dumping him in a cell.
…Overreacting? Not even close.
In a Korea that had already suffered through this nightmare more than once, smuggling supernatural life-forms was a crime so grave that summary execution would raise no eyebrows. Several zones had already been transformed into inhuman hellscapes, and Suraksan—mentioned in the archive earlier—was one of the most infamous examples.
【Supernatural Life-Form — Spore Colony】
【Hazard Rank: C】
▪ A supernatural organism that forms massive colonies of mushrooms resembling human eyeballs.
It continuously releases spores that erode the surrounding ecosystem, transforming a fixed radius into a dreamlike forest.
Any living creature that enters the eroded zone experiences a hazy mind, intense euphoria, and a profound sense of security. Mushrooms then begin proliferating inside the body, eventually consuming the host as nutrients until death.
▪ These mushrooms serve as a core ingredient in mental stabilizers and therefore command high market value.
▪ The Suraksan erosion incident has been confirmed to have originated when an independent hunter attempted artificial cultivation of the mushrooms and lost control. The hunter voluntarily reported the abnormal growth to the Hunter Association the moment it was noticed.
▪ An Association strike team was deployed immediately, yet by the time they arrived the entire mountain had already been eroded; complete eradication was judged impossible.
Although the incident had nothing to do with amber, it was the case most frequently cited whenever domestic examples of supernatural life-forms turning regions into inhuman hellscapes came up.
The fact that even early detection and intervention still produced erosion on that scale led academia to the consensus that a full-blown outbreak would have consumed all of Seoul.
The zone continued to expand, little by little, giving the Association no end of headaches. High-density mana made the area inaccessible to civilians, so hunters alone could manage it.
Which brought him back to the present problem.
So what am I supposed to do with this pretty little nuclear bomb that goes off the second you touch it…?
Kang Yul stroked the amber stone, lost in thought. Releasing it into the world was impossible. Selling it under the table carried risks that made any profit a net loss. It was far too large to fit inside the Favorable Merchant’s trade box. The smartest move, then, seemed to be chipping off small pieces and selling those…
…except that looks no different from releasing the bug into the world.
He recalled the notification window he had seen earlier.
[When conditions are met, it will awaken from sleep and follow you.]
When conditions are met, it awakens and follows. That could be read as: only by fulfilling a specific method would it follow Kang Yul. Conversely, waking it any other way might mean it would not follow him at all. And in Kang Yul’s estimation, something as crude as “chip the amber open and yank it out” was unlikely to be a good method.
How many people enjoy being dragged out of a sound sleep?
Bugs were no different. If he was going to wake this thing, he needed some other approach—a “condition” that would let the worm wake up in a good mood…
…Come to think of it, didn’t the Favorable Merchant claim to do appraisals?
The thought struck him suddenly. The merchant’s post had stated that a photo or brief description was enough for a rough valuation. So maybe this amber could be appraised too?
Doesn’t cost anything. Might as well try.
Kang Yul opened the gallery, typed “Favorable Merchant” into the search bar, and watched a string of posts appear. On the most recent one at the top he left a secret comment containing a photo of the amber stone plus the information “Mountain-Eating Worm — Bakai.”
He would have preferred a private message, but the Hunter Gallery’s system was a little peculiar, so a comment was the only option for now. Because the gallery was named after hunters, creating a verified account required proof of active hunter history—something Kang Yul completely lacked, having spent all his time holed up mining.
Guess I’ll have to dive into a Gate one of these days.
After posting the comment he kept refreshing the gallery, waiting for a reply. Three days passed with no answer. Even comments on brand-new hot posts went ignored.
What the hell? Am I getting left on read right now?
Fed up with waiting, Kang Yul decided to ask about the amber’s identity through a box trade instead. He filled the box with soil and begged for information equal in value—specifically the identity of the sleeping worm inside the amber, or the “condition” that would wake it pleasantly.
This time there was a response.
Click-!
Just like a completed trade, the wooden box no longer held the soil he had packed full; a single slip of paper lay inside instead. It was different from the usual notes, though.
A black note?
The Favorable Merchant, who always sent white paper, had sent black this time. A chill crawled down Kang Yul’s spine. Still, after coming this far, not reading it was not an option. He picked up the note and unfolded it.
“…”
The black note bore a frantic warning scrawled in red ink. Take it out and you die. Never, under any circumstances, let blood touch it.
…Except.
Blood… already touched it…?
Three days ago, no less. Thrilled at finally finding a mineral, he had dug bare-handed through the dirt and then gripped the amber with blood still running down his fingers. If that had been the “condition” for waking the worm pleasantly, the condition had already been met long ago… so why hadn’t the worm woken up?
…Ah. Don’t tell me this little bastard…
Kang Yul stared at the amber resting on the floor. What if the reason it still slept was part of the process of waking up in a good mood? What if it was simply hitting the snooze button because it didn’t feel like getting up yet? After all, the best time to fall back asleep was right after waking—unless someone had forced you awake.
And in that exact moment—
Crack…!
—as if confirming his guess, the amber on the floor split with a sharp crack and began rocking side to side. Exactly like a chick breaking free of its eggshell, something emerged from the shattered amber and revealed itself… wait. Hold on. Why did it look like…?
Gnaw-gnaw-gnaw…
Kang Yul carefully studied the worm currently chewing its way through the amber. A long, yellow-brown body reminiscent of an earthworm, and densely interlocking teeth that almost looked like fur. Aside from being only finger-sized, it was strikingly similar to a supernatural life-form he already knew.
Isn’t this… a Worm…?
Ordinary Worms were legendary for swallowing entire buildings in a single gulp. So why was this one so tiny?