Taming the Snakehead and the Red Miracle

The fifth pair encountered a monster that looked like a fusion of a human and a giant snake. To describe it precisely: a headless human body with a massive snake perched on top of the neck, as if parasitically claiming the head. In other words, it wasn't a monster with a snake's head—it was a monster whose head was the snake itself.

Additionally, its nerfed threat level was B-grade. He roughly named it "Snake Head."

The Hedgehog Summoner God put his spirits out front and called out to Jellyfish-002.

After Hedgehog and Jellyfish exchanged words through gestures, they launched a coordinated attack. Hedgehog summoned five spirits to engage Snake Head in fierce close-quarters combat. Meanwhile, Jellyfish, positioned a bit farther back, created several explosive orbs, merged them into one, and was meticulously compressing it to increase its density.

Soon, the explosive orb was compressed to the size of a baseball, packed with intense power.

Jellyfish whipped a tentacle to launch the compressed explosive orb. It wasn't particularly fast, but Snake Head was too focused on the undead spirits to notice it coming.

And then—boom!

The orb struck Snake Head's abdomen, detonating with a small but ferocious explosion. It seemed like a special orb designed to minimize blast radius for Hedgehog's safety while maximizing raw destructive power.

The orb's direct hit vaporized Snake Head's body—everything except the snake part. It was a perfect demonstration of Jellyfish's explosive magic: true power lay not in area, but in focused devastation.

Hedgehog's spirits pinned the snake down with their bodies to prevent escape. Hedgehog hopped onto the snake's head, shook his butt in a dance, and shouted.

Anyway, I'd tell them the location. Only I could see the red spot, and without it, no taming. Luckily, it was on the intact snake part, not the exploded human body below the neck.

"Hedgehog, you hear me?"

"Red spot's a bit to the right of its head. Put your hand there."

"Where'd you learn that?"

Hedgehog placed the severed arm on the snake's head. It was a bit off—away from the red spot.

"Not there. More to the right."

"No, that's left. Opposite way."

"Bit more sideways."

"Yeah. Perfect now. Good job."

My severed arm was now placed over the red spot. As the palm touched it, discoloration slowly began. Naturally, it progressed much slower than usual.

The codex entry was finished, but Snake Head still wasn't tamed. Glancing at my watch, I muttered.

"Taking longer than I thought."

As I checked the time, I suddenly remembered the 10 low-grade invitation tickets I'd sent earlier.

"Almost three hours now, huh."

I'd already explained the low-grade invites' delivery and contents to the helpers earlier, while griping about drawing blanks.

"Not hoping. Just saying they're about to expire."

Honestly, zero expectations. Any sane person gets a letter like that? They'd chuck it as a prank. Who'd blindly trust it and eat the paper? Plus, recipients might be total strangers—just eye contact once, no name, no face. No reason to help. Or they tossed it unread. Unless it popped out of thin air, who'd care about mystery scrap?

If a helper actually showed from one of those letters? That'd be a miracle. Something utterly impossible by common sense.

"One by one?"

"Don't think so... Next time I get more, I'll try Dan-bi's way."

"Yeah, smart thinking. Thanks, Dan-bi."

Not exactly groundbreaking, but credit where due. She spotted something I missed.

I stood, carefully stowed the finished monster codex in its box, checked the time again, and muttered, "Anyway, less than five minutes till the invites expire..."

"...Huh?"

A miracle happened.