The Spider King's Plaything
I had gotten sucked into a zombie apocalypse novel. Naturally, out in the open like this I was at a massive disadvantage, so I ducked between the shelves.
The Spider King clacked its fangs together like it was having the time of its life, then started chasing me at terrifying speed. Every time it looked like I was slowing down, it would start smacking me with those fangs.
“Hwaaaaaaaaaaah… Mommy…”
It was only a “poke,” but it felt exactly like getting smashed with a baseball bat. My back swelled up instantly, blooming with bruises. And whenever I fell, it would prod me with its blunt-tipped legs. That felt more like a boxer’s fist. So the moment I tried to stand up after it told me to stop lying there, its fangs came flying again. It clearly knew I couldn’t win and was just toying with me.
Thankfully the bleeding on my arm stopped quickly. It was similar to the protagonist, yet different. If it had been the protagonist, the blood wouldn’t have clotted. A wound like this should have kept pouring. But I was different. The bleeding stopped in seconds, and when I pressed hard on the hole it closed up temporarily. So while my combat ability was lower than the protagonist’s, it seemed my regeneration was superior. Scars didn’t remain, and wounds healed cleaner. It even felt like my brain was pumping out endorphins to protect my sanity.
Too bad none of that was any use in this situation.
“Eek!”
“Giiii?”
“If you trip me with your fangs like that… hwaak, I’m sorry! I’ll run! I’ll run!”
“Giga.”
“Hwaaaaaaaaaaah……”
I’d only hesitated for about five seconds after falling. The instant it sensed any delay, the fangs came flying in. Getting my leg skewered was obviously a death sentence, so I had no choice but to keep running.
I moved while taking hit after hit. I tried to lose it by whipping around corners. When I fell I even scrambled forward on all fours to buy distance. I ran and fled like a madwoman, but I couldn’t shake the damn thing no matter what.
When I glanced back, I finally understood why.
“This is so unfair… hwaaaaaaaaaaah… huuuuuk…!”
“Giyaaaaaaaaa—!”
“I’m sorry for talking back! I’m sorry! I was wrong!”
The Spider King was leaping freely over the shelves. Of course that put me—who had to run around the corners—at an overwhelming disadvantage. While I wasted several seconds per turn, it could simply step on top of the shelves and bound over them.
I briefly considered running on top of the shelves myself, but the consequences terrified me. I was sure the rule-breaking would enrage the Spider King, so I frantically pumped my legs instead.
“Uuuu……………”
I had to think of a solution. My mouth tasted like iron, and my lungs burned. Before I collapsed from exhaustion I needed to remember the original novel’s plot.
That’s right. That track-and-field athlete. How did the story say she survived?
“Hwaaaaaaaaaaak! Kuuu……”
It must have noticed I was distracted, because a fang slammed into my back and sent me sprawling forward. My knees and stomach screamed in pain. The pierced arm hurt even worse. Having landed on my belly first, I couldn’t even draw a proper breath.
But there was no time to stop.
“Giyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa—!”
“I’m sorry for stopping I’m sorry! I’ll run, I’ll run, so please don’t stab me, huuuueeeeeng……”
The fangs kept jabbing the air around my body. One solid hit and I’d be riddled with holes, so I frantically crawled, then forced myself to run again.
I was sure the novel had described the Spider King’s breeding method. Yes—it inserted a tube into the abdomen of a female spider. It didn’t do that to human women because the host would die. Of course there were cases where it did, but usually it used other methods so it could keep them longer.
Like the direct stabbing it had almost done to me.
But the track-and-field athlete hadn’t been stabbed directly. The narration said she had earned its trust and love, but I honestly couldn’t understand that at all.
“Earn its trust? What kind of bullshit is that?!”
“Giga?”
“Kyaaak!”
I lost my balance after getting clipped by a fang mid-turn and toppled sideways. I scrambled to get up, but the fangs were faster. I sprawled on the floor again, regained my senses, and crawled desperately on all fours. If I showed any sign of not moving, pain would follow. I hated pain, so I had no choice but to move.
The Spider King seemed to find it amusing and let out a small, laughing roar. Then it prodded my waist with its fangs as if asking why I wasn’t standing yet. It even punched a hole in the floor. The meaning was obvious.
“I’ll run, I’m sorry! N-no, your slave is slow, I’m sorry… uwaaaaeng……”
“Giyaaaaaaa—!”
“Kelok, uwaaaaaah! I was wrong, I was wrong! I’m sorry, please stop hitting me…!”
“Giga—!”
“Please don’t try to stab me either… it hurts, huuuueeeeng… I’m bleeding……”
The Spider King looked completely satisfied. No wonder—despite running for so long, I still wasn’t collapsing from exhaustion. If I were in its position I’d be thrilled too. It had succeeded in mutating without dying. After the mutation it learned that the high-ranking entity it could have fought was dead. And the female who had killed that high-ranking entity had walked in perfectly healthy, practically begging to be claimed. She still had enough energy to challenge it once and then keep running. Plenty of food, and a high-quality female. Its mouth must have been stretched ear to ear in delight.
But seriously, could you maybe hit me a little less?
“Uwat! Ugeueuk… kelok. Uweek……”
“Giga?”
“Haa… haa… Ah? D-don’t stab! Hwaaaak!”
“Giyaaa—!”
“No, I can do more! I can run more, Master! I—I need my legs! I can still run…!”
“Giyaaaaaaaa—!”
“Uwaaaat, I’m sorry for being such a weak female who falls when she gets hit!”
I couldn’t fall. Even if I did, I had to get up immediately. Any more holes and it would be truly irreversible. Getting beaten was still better. I’d already taken so many hits that I could endure it. But I absolutely could not get stabbed by the fangs or skewered by the sharp legs. That would end everything. If things went wrong I needed to be able to run away, but I wouldn’t even have that option.
The novel had described in detail what happened when someone recklessly attacked a vital point. The special forces team that tried to strike the Spider Queen’s vital spot had all been slaughtered. Not just killed—they were dismembered and hung from iron bars like dried fish. No character had ever lost after attacking the Spider King’s vital point, because it only appeared directly twice in the story. Once the protagonist burned it, and once he won a one-on-one duel.
So no one knew what tragic fate awaited anyone who struck the vital point.
…Probably getting all four limbs sliced off and turned into maggot food.
“Giyaaaaaaaaaa—!”
“Hwaaaaaak!”
“Giyaaaaaaaaaa—! Giyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa—!”
“I’m sorry for getting distracted! Hwaaang, please don’t hit me! I was wrong, I was wrong!”
But the Spider King never listened. I was sent flying by another blow, bouncing across the floor before rolling to a stop. My whole body was covered in bruises and I had no strength left.
The Spider King slowly crawled on top of me, then placed one of its blunt legs on my stomach. It didn’t seem to be a breeding action. Then……
“Uwaaaaa… n-not the stomach! You said you’d just keep hitting me! …Keuk!”
“Giyaaa—?”
“I hate getting pierced even more! Please just hit me instead! Thank you, Master. Hwaaaaaaaaaang……”
“Giyaaaaaaaa—?”
“J-just one hit… uuk… Nooo, this breeding slave has overstepped her bounds! Hit me as much as you want! I’m soooooorry!!!!”
My stomach quickly turned blue, then purple with blood bruises. The Spider King seemed to have developed a taste for making me move. Like a child poking a worm with a stick, it kept slapping and pressing me with its legs.
If I put my full weight on this leg and crushed you, what would happen? It felt like that was exactly what it was asking, so I could only sob harder, convulsing in terror.
Then the leg lifted away. I frantically crawled on all fours and scrambled free, then ran like a lunatic. Luckily I had fallen near the entrance, so maybe I could still escape.
I grabbed my Beopbong and started hammering on the large mart’s doors. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen.
The doors only rattled. They refused to break. I swung my arms like a madwoman. The pierced wound tore open again and blood poured out, but I didn’t care.
“Hwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!”
“Giyaaaaaaaaaaa—!”
“Break already! Break, damn you! Why won’t you break? I want to liiiiive!”
“Giyaaaa—!”
“Kyaaaak!”
The fangs slammed into me. I dropped the Beopbong. The handle shook and both knuckles slipped off my fingers. The knuckles and Beopbong clattered against each other before catching on the front door.
The moment I tried to stand, a blunt leg smashed into my solar plexus and pinned me down. While I coughed and struggled to breathe, I saw the other legs seize both my arms and lock them in place.
In seconds I was spread out like a crucifix.
And I instinctively knew what was coming.
“N-not the hands! Not the hands! M-my right hand still isn’t fully healed… kuaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak!”
“Giga.”
“Kuuuuuu, kuaaaaa! It hurts, it hurts! It hurts, it hurts, you bastard!”
“Giyaaaaaaaaaaa—!”
“I’m sorry I was wrong, so please don’t stab my stomach…! Y-you can’t stab the solar plexus either!”
“Giyaaa—!”
“R-run? Thank you thank you thank you. Thank you for letting me run, hwaaaaaaaaaang……”
Tears, snot, sweat, and blood dripped onto the floor. It looked like I’d have to run for another few dozen minutes before I could try the door again. I had definitely felt it weakening.
……If I could last that long.