The Spider King's Secretion Pouch
I ended up inside a zombie apocalypse novel. Before long, I found myself wearing a dress woven from spider silk. The Spider King seemed to like it, clicking its fangs together in delight. Then it slowly pulled me underneath its belly. Instinctively, I knew. This was my chance.
"..."
My body was in relatively decent shape. Good enough to land one final blow, at least. I crouched down and waited. Soon, the Spider King's green underbelly began to twitch. A single crimson tube emerged from it. It resembled the ovipositor of a parasitic wasp, only much thicker and longer.
"Giiiiaaaaaaaa—!"
"Ah, um. Yes."
The Spider King's legs tapped against me with a lightness that was nothing like before. It bent its abdomen as if trying to insert the tube into my stomach, then roared as if telling me to get on with it. Of course, I had every intention of doing so. But first, I needed to observe. I had to figure out whether the vital spot was the tube or something else before delivering the final strike.
The Spider King's anatomy was strangely fascinating. A crimson pouch, similar to a human stomach, was pulsing. The tube extended straight out from that pouch.
...I decided to ignore the identity of the liquid leaking from the tube.
"Giiiiaaaaaaaa—!"
"I-It's my first time... I'm sorry..."
"Giiia."
"Y-Yes..."
Its legs tightened around me to prevent any escape, then pushed me toward the tube as if urging me to hurry. I slowly reached out and touched it. A thick stream of liquid splattered down. I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. Then I swallowed a moan that tried to escape.
Thinking I was acting shy like a bride, the Spider King used its legs to lay me down. One of its sharp-tipped legs gently scratched at my lower abdomen. I understood exactly what that meant. And I knew this was my only opportunity.
After all, I'd done something similar once before. Like wrapping my legs around a General's neck.
I twisted my waist, swung my legs up, and coiled them around the pouch. I frantically tightened my grip and clung on. The Spider King suddenly went rigid. No, it wasn't rigidity. It had frozen from the pain. It was like the calm before the storm.
Soon after, the Spider King let out a monstrous shriek and began thrashing wildly. Seeing its legs slamming violently into the floor, I could imagine exactly what would happen if I failed. So I opened my mouth wide and bit down on the crimson pouch with everything I had.
"Giiiiaaaaa—!!!"
It was a scream loud enough to shake the entire big-box store. And then an unscheduled rodeo began.
I desperately tensed every muscle in my body. I squeezed my legs tighter, dug my nails in, and pinched the pouch hard. I bit down on it with my teeth and held on for dear life. Then the Spider King seemed to realize a clever move. It crawled up to the ceiling and hung there. It shrieked as if telling me to give up. It was the simple logic that if it died, I'd fall and die too.
Fortunately, I knew how spider corpses stiffened when they died. When they died at a high place, spiders would fall belly-up first. Then their legs would curl up and they'd die like insects. I had pinned my hopes on those few lines of description from the novel, but then I realized one crucial fact.
The organ that had been the Spider King's tube was moving. Before I could react, spider silk erupted from it. In other words, it had decided to die together with me. Even if it died, it would make sure I couldn't escape. It was turning its own body into my tomb.
As if that was its plan, all the Spider King's legs pointed toward me at once. If I died like this, its legs would become my prison. And this spider silk was incredibly sticky. I had to finish this before that happened.
"Giiiiaaaaaaaaaaaaa—!"
I chewed viciously into the pouch with my fangs, tearing a hole. Then I shoved my hand inside and ripped it open. The hole began to widen. Whenever it tried to close, I chewed and tore at the membrane, forcing it wider. The sour liquid inside burst out, washing over my body. The spider silk began to melt away, and instinctively I knew. I had to get inside.
Like a ground beetle devouring a snail, I held my breath and pushed my upper body into the pouch. The mildly acidic liquid stung my eyes. But I had no choice but to go in.
"Giiiiaaaaaaaaa—!"
The Spider King screamed as white eggs poured out through the tube. It curled and extended its legs, shaking its body. But I had successfully pushed my lower body inside as well. I groped around blindly within. The moment I pulled my face out of the pouch, the fall began.
Inside the pouch of the Spider King, which had died from shock, I was tossed around violently. It reminded me of a scene from an animated movie I had seen as a child. And then I lost consciousness.
"...Cough!"
When I came to, my entire body was stinging. It felt like soda had gotten in my eyes. But I was alive. I staggered to my feet and shouted.
"Ultimate Yeji wins!"
There was no strength in my voice. My arms and legs were trembling. My eyes stung and my stomach churned. I pulled a bottle of water from my bag and splashed it into my eyes. As I tried to steady myself, I heard a sound that should not have been there.
"Giiiiaaaaaaaaaaa—!"
"Huh?"
"Giiiiaaaaa......."
"Wait... what...?"
My right side tore open. Blood gushed out. I stood there dazed for a moment before frantically pressing on the wound. Spider silk. Right, spider silk. It could be used as a substitute for gauze. Thanks to its property of preserving food in a fresh state, it actually enhanced regeneration.
So I frantically scraped up the spider silk from the floor and slapped it onto my side. The silk quickly turned red, then hardened like a scab. Of course, that wasn't the end of it. If I removed it, the bleeding would start again. I had to move before that happened.
But my body wouldn't listen. I felt dizzy, as if I'd been poisoned. I collapsed to the ground. And it seemed I fell asleep.
When I regained consciousness, I was wearing a bridal veil. There were guests with shadowed faces and an officiant presiding over the ceremony. Light streamed down through stained glass. It was terrifying. It felt like I was somewhere else entirely.
Then, suddenly, music began to play. The kind that started with dan dan dan dan. The music often played at weddings. But this one was clack clack clack. It sounded like someone was striking the floor with a staff to make the rhythm.
I was sitting down when a shadowed-faced father took my arm and led me forward. The shadowed-faced groom waiting ahead smiled slyly. The officiant laughed heartily and asked the groom if he would love me forever. The groom nodded shyly. The officiant burst into loud laughter and looked at me. Then the shadow on his face vanished.
It was a spider.
The officiant with a spider's face dripped venom from its mouth. An incomprehensible shriek asked me if I would love the groom forever. The me in the dream nodded. The groom—now revealed as the Spider King with a human upper body—embraced me and kissed my forehead. The wedding ring was made from human finger bones. The necklace was a General's Secretion Pouch, and the veil and dress were made of spider silk. The guests, my family, and the groom's family were all spiders.
Only then did I realize. This was a nightmare. But it was an unbearably vivid one.
Then the scene changed. I saw a massive apartment complex made of spider silk. The Spider King smiled awkwardly and asked what I thought of the apartment. I was still wearing the dress. Strangely, I seemed to be pushing a stroller as well.
"Giia."
"Giia? Not... a baby crying?"
"Giia!"
A baby spider leaped out of the stroller and covered my face. That was the last thing I saw before I jolted awake and looked around.
Nausea surged up immediately. I vomited on the floor right away and began sobbing uncontrollably. Then I felt a hand patting my back. So I kept vomiting and crying. I emptied everything inside me and cried. When I was throwing up nothing but gastric acid, the person who had been patting my back handed me a towel.
I thanked them and took it. I slowly wiped my face and handed the towel back. The person stuffed it carelessly into a bag and said,
"Hey, Park Jeong-heum. Do you know who I am?"
"...?"
"I'm the author."
I almost swore at him but stopped. The man in front of me was incredibly tall and muscular. If I rushed him recklessly, I'd clearly lose. Especially since my physical condition wasn't great. If I'd eaten and rested properly, maybe. But if I messed up now, I'd definitely get seriously hurt. So I played dumb first.
"Who... are you, exactly?"
"I said I'm the author."
I had already guessed that much. The bastard had called me by my real name. But the question was why he was here. I even wondered if the latest trend was to make the author possess someone too. From his expression, it was obvious he'd come to interrogate me. Yeah, he had every right to.
...I really had gone too far.
I had mixed feelings about this novel—both love and hate at the same time. The kind of feeling where I loved it so much I wanted to destroy it. So whenever I had the chance, I tore into its content with harsh criticism. The reasons were varied. The plot lacked plausibility. The characters were cliché. The harem was unbalanced in terms of screen time. Oh, and that too.
The guy seemed to have been deeply impressed by some manga, because he was obsessed with cool older brother characters. Naturally, he gave the protagonist one too. I don't remember the name, but it was that kind of character the protagonist relied on constantly in the first run. A perfectly plausible character.
But I still criticized it as BL drift and ripped it apart. The reason was simple. I was just bored. If the character died, oh well. If he overcame it, he'd have me to thank for strengthening his mentality. And in reality, the author's mentality had grown tougher day by day. There was proof. Despite my endless criticism, he killed off the cool older brother in a legendary scene without batting an eye. Then he wrote six whole chapters of scenes with the brother's two younger sisters. Each chapter featured different positions and emotional arcs in what was essentially a display of literary and physical prowess.
So I wasn't in the wrong. I was the trial. Honestly, if the result turned out good, wasn't that enough? That's what I think.
"No, who the hell are you to be spouting this crazy bullshit?"
"This son of a bitch, seriously."
"Now now. As intellectual people, let's show mutual respect, shall we?"
I knew where Beopbong was. If I suddenly sprinted, the bastard would have a hard time reacting. So I dashed straight for it and grabbed Beopbong. The knuckles were there too. I shoved them into my pocket. The self-proclaimed author's face twisted.
"Mutual respect, you bastard. Mutual respect. Hah, fuck. You think I'd just accept it if you spoke down to me just because you're the author?"
"So that's it. You need a reason to show respect, huh?"
"Yeah, yeah. That's right, you bastard."
"How about this?"
"..."
I quietly leaped outside the store. No, fuck! I didn't expect a gun!