Chapter 2
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Giant Silkworm
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"Get down."
As soon as I opened the front door, I pulled the fuzzy lump out of my pocket.
Fry let out a dissatisfied "Peep!" from the palm of my hand before hopping down to the floor.
The little guy strutted around the room, wagging his butt like he owned the place.
Just look at that brazen backside.
Who would ever guess this was the thing that had spewed fire from its beak just minutes ago and burned a monster to a crisp?
"What the hell are you, really?"
I lifted him up with both hands, bringing him level with my eyes.
Those beady black eyes stared right back at me.
Not even a blink.
There was something oddly confident about his vibe.
No matter how I looked at him, he was just a chick.
Except for the fluffy yellow down that was extra soft, the unnatural sheen to his feathers, and those cocky eyes.
"Do that fire thing again from earlier."
"......"
"Come on. Fire. Fire. Fwoosh."
I even made a "fwoosh" sound with my mouth and waved my hand to demonstrate.
Fry stared at my face for a moment, then tilted his head.
And pecked at my finger with his beak.
"Peck."
"......"
Playing dumb, huh?
Or was it really just a fluke? Static electricity? My imagination?
But that monster turning into a pile of ash was undeniably real.
It vanished right in front of me, left behind that smell, and I could still catch a whiff of the scorch.
"Ha... fine. Let's just eat."
I gave up and opened the fridge.
There was a pack of Vienna sausages teetering on their expiration date.
I reached for a frying pan but suddenly felt too lazy.
"Gas is expensive anyway. Microwave it is."
That was when Fry, perched on the dining table, spotted the sausage pack and his eyes lit up.
"Peep! Peep!"
He flapped his stubby wings.
The signal for "gimme."
Crystal clear.
"This is mine, okay? You eat your feed."
The moment I pulled out a sausage and brought it to my mouth, Fry leaped up lightning-fast and snatched it away.
And then.
Pffft
"Huh?"
A short, precise burst of flame shot from the tip of his beak.
Tiny.
About the length of two finger joints.
The flame swept over the sausage's surface like a controlled torch, perfectly precise.
Sizzle sizzle
Oil popped, and the savory aroma spread in an instant.
I stood frozen, watching the scene.
It took mere seconds.
The sausage was perfectly golden-brown.
The skin cracked just right for crispiness, juices locked in moist.
"......"
Fry pecked off a bite of the perfectly grilled sausage, chirped a satisfied "Peck~," and nudged the rest toward me.
Like he was saying, eat up.
I picked it up in a daze and took a bite.
"......Damn, that's good."
The smoky flavor was spot-on.
I stared blankly at Fry.
He was chirping away excitedly, waiting for the next one.
Suddenly, the calculator in my head started whirring.
Hold up.
This guy breathes fire. And he controls it with pinpoint accuracy.
Which means...
"Winter heating bill solved?"
"Gas savings?"
No, think bigger.
Could make money off this, right?
"Hey, ever thought about opening a barbecue joint?"
He looked at me like he had no clue.
But I was already imagining it.
A food cart.
'Fire Chicken Chick Char-Grill.'
Lines out the door.
Videos blowing up on SNS.
TV show offers.
...Then that woman from earlier popped into my head.
Cold eyes.
Mysterious business card.
'National Security Agency.'
I sighed, watching Fry grill another sausage.
"For now, we keep you hidden."
He munched away obliviously, tail wagging maybe? Not sure where a chick's tail even is.
"Hey, Fry."
"Peck."
"Starting tomorrow, you pay your way in food."
I tossed the last sausage.
Fry caught it mid-air, this time exhaling a slightly longer flame.
The tip danced prettily.
Sizzle
The oily scent filled the room.
He ate half the grilled sausage and pushed the rest to me.
Like we'd sealed a deal.
I took it with a smirk.
Fry tried wiping his greasy beak on my pants.
"Hey! Not there!"
He scampered off, and I chased him.
The quiet studio apartment turned rowdy.
Somehow, it didn't feel bad.
This furball that rolled into my life.
Disaster or jackpot, who knows? I'd keep him around for now.
At least it'd save on gas.
Same time. National Security Agency [Ghost Gate], Seoul Branch Team 1 office.
"Team Leader, how should we file the Sinlim-dong report?"
Do Jae-hyeok stared at his monitor, brow furrowed at his subordinate's question.
The screen showed photos from that alley: charred black asphalt and a handful of ash.
"Process it as a simple fire."
"Yes? But the residual yokai energy..."
"Can't measure it anyway."
Do Jae-hyeok tapped the evidence bag on his desk.
Black powder collected from the scene inside.
"Obviously Fire Ghost work. Dry weather lately, so some will-o'-wisp floated around, hit a gas line, and boom—self-destruct."
"Ah... yeah, that area's heavy with yin energy, draws in stray ghosts."
The subordinate nodded in agreement.
But Seo Hwa-rin thought differently.
She zoomed in on the CCTV footage in the corner of the monitor: Kang Han-gyeol's back as he exited the alley.
Heat definitely came from that guy's pocket.
But it didn't make sense, even on second thought.
A civilian wielding enough firepower to incinerate a yokai?
That was high-level spiritualist territory.
And that look in his eyes.
'70,000 won... my money...'
For someone with that kind of power, he was way too... pathetic and cheap.
Plus, there was a chick on his lap.
No way a chick breathed fire.
"Just a lucky civilian. Miracle he didn't get caught in the Fire Ghost's suicide blast."
Seo Hwa-rin closed Kang Han-gyeol's profile window.
She had no idea the file she'd just shelved was the record of the "divine beast's master"—the one that would one day turn Korea upside down.
Next morning.
"Gah!"
I woke up screaming.
Couldn't breathe.
I opened my eyes to find Fry perched right on my nose.
No idea why he always climbs onto my face at night.
Warmth's nice, but he's got some weight to him.
Guy came from a melon-sized egg—probably has solid bones.
"Move, dude. Can't breathe."
I shoved him off and grabbed my smartphone.
Habitually checked my bank balance.
Balance: 3,480 won
"......"
The 70,000-won fine from yesterday had to be paid within two weeks.
No money for food, and Fry's sausage habit wasn't cheap.
I opened the Part-Time Heaven app.
Filtered for [Daily Pay] and scrolled.
Parcel unloading? Wreck my back.
Leaflet distribution? Minus 10 degrees today.
Then one ad caught my eye.
"Daily pay 200...?"
[Urgent] Abandoned Orchard Cleanup & Pruning Assistant (Daily: 200,000 won)
Location: Private land near Bukhansan
Tasks: Remove & transport dead trees (simple labor)
Requirements: Healthy, strong stomach
* Bug haters, please refrain from applying.
My eyes lit up.
One day covers the fine and a whole chicken with change.
'Bugs' sounded iffy, but bugs in the mountains? Normal, right?
Grab some inchworms for 200k? Sweet.
Private land too—owner must be loaded.
"This is it."
I hit [Apply] right away.
Text came in under a minute.
[Come to Bukhansan entrance parking lot by 1 PM. - Cheonji Manpower]
I pumped my fist.
Heaven leaves a way out even if the sky falls.
"We're rich starting today! For a day, anyway."
I bundled up: thick puffer jacket, scarf, gloves.
Mountainside—gonna be colder.
Then.
My pant leg tugged oddly.
"......"
Fry was hanging off my pants by his beak.
"Peck!"
"Hey. Going to work. Not play."
"Peck!"
"Could be dangerous."
He ignored me, grabbed the puffer, and climbed up.
Then burrowed naturally into my chest pocket.
"Hey, not th—"
Snug
He settled deep in the inner pocket.
Warm body heat against my stomach.
And.
Grabbed the zipper with his beak,
Ziiiip—
And zipped it himself.
Perfect boarding.
"Ha... fine. Don't cry if you get kicked out."
I headed to Bukhansan, Fry in tow, strutting like a boss.
Bukhansan entrance parking lot, the meetup spot.
Winter sun was faint; air sharp as glass.
A lone black van sat there.
Engine running, white exhaust belching from the muffler.
Two other awkward part-timers like me stood by it.
One skinny glasses guy, the other fresh-out-of-military buzzcut dude.
The foreman: hiking vest, cap, average uncle type.
Blank face, chewing gum loudly.
Classic construction site foreman vibe.
"All here? Hop in! Gotta finish before sunset!"
Rough speech.
But standard site energy—nothing weird.
We climbed in without suspicion.
Van left the trail for unpaved mountain path.
Bump, bump.
Suspension screaming.
Untouched forest whipped by outside.
"Um... what exactly is the job?"
Glasses guy next to me asked timidly.
Voice shaky.
Foreman glanced via rearview, casual.
"Nothin' big. Just choppin' some trees."
"Pay's kinda high, though?"
"Place is overrun with gypsy moths—neglected."
He spat like it was gum.
"Lotsa guys bail 'cause it's gross. You guys got strong stomachs?"
Moths?
I chuckled inwardly.
Moths for 200k?
Kids these days are soft.
200k, I'd squash roaches or rats.
We stopped deep in the woods: wire-fenced abandoned orchard.
Stepping out, something was off immediately.
"Whoa... what the hell is all this?"
Trees blanketed in white.
Not snow.
Not webs—sticky white silken threads like giant cocoons wound around bare branches.
Eerie, like a cotton candy forest from hell.
"Ugh... the smell."
Sour, fishy stench stabbed my nose.
Fry squirmed in my pocket.
Adjusting uncomfortably.
"Work starts! Gear up—hazard suits!"
Foreman tossed thin vinyl raincoats and cotton gloves.
One warning added.
"Don't touch the white silk clumps with your hands. Skin disease. Cut whole branches with the saw and pile in the pit over there. Got it?"
We nodded, grabbed saws, entered the trees dangling white clumps.
Crunch... crunch...
Sound like something munching leaves nearby.
But no leaves.
Dead trees only.
Wind, probably. Started sawing.
About 30 minutes in.
Easier than expected.
Snip branches, haul. Done.
200k for this? Honey pot.
That was when.
"Huh? Aaaagh!"
Glasses guy screamed beside me.
His foot sank into a white clump on the ground.
"Watch it."
Foreman clicked his tongue.
Glasses yanked, but sticky threads stretched like taffy, trapping his ankle.
Like glued.
"It... won't come off! Help!"
"Hold still. I'll cut it."
I grabbed my saw to help when.
Rumble rumble rum—
Ground shook.
Earthquake?
No.
Vibration from under glasses guy's foot.
"Huh?"
Foreman's face hardened instantly.
Eyes shook with fear.
"Shit... already awake? Sun's not even down!"
"Huh? What?"
Before I could ask, earth exploded open.
[...Hungry...]
Dirt erupted—not a mole or boar.
Building-sized bug.
White, plump body segmented and writhing; head with sickle-like jaws thick as a man's arm. No eyes, but tentacles around the mouth groped wildly.
"Wh-what the hell is that?!"
I dropped my saw.
Caterpillar? Larva? Size made no sense.
Towering two stories—how is that a bug?!
[...Tasty... smell...]
The monster reared its head.
Transparent sticky drool dripped from its maw.
Grass where it hit sizzled chiik and melted.
Acidic.
"Aaaah! Save me!"
Glasses guy panicked, foot trapped, screaming.
Foreman already fleeing far off.
Not fleeing—pulling something from behind the van.
Flamethrower?
"Run, you idiots! It's a Giant Silkworm!"
Giant Silkworm? What the—?!
Foreman pulled the trigger, but the old gear just pffft—no fire.
"Fuck! Defective piece of shit!"
Situation went straight to hell.
Giant Silkworm whipped its head toward glasses guy.
[Food...?]
Thwip!
White silk thread shot like a bullet from its mouth.
Wrapped glasses guy in seconds.
"S-sa—ve...!"
Scream muffled quick.
He hit the ground as a white cocoon in one second.
Like a fly in a spiderweb.
"R-run!"
Other part-timer bolted downhill screaming.
I had to run too.
But silk threads everywhere—maze blocking me.
[...More... give more...]
The Giant Silkworm that cocooned glasses guy twisted toward me.
Eyeless, but scent-homing dead-on.
"Damn it!"
I backed up, tripped on a root, ass-planted.
No escape.
Silkworm's maw gaped grotesquely.
White silk loading again inside.
Hit by that, I'm done.
Cocooned like glasses nerd, juiced human-style.
Chasing 200k to end up on the altar.
Thwip!
White thread flew at me.
No, don't wanna die!
I instinctively raised my arms to shield my face.
In that do-or-die moment.
[...Insolent insect, how dare you.]
...Huh?