“My body isn’t moving the way I want it to!”

“M-my body! Hngggg!”

The guide’s piercing scream tore through the stillness of the night.

Rather than answer my question, he just kept screaming.

Naturally, the kids who had been peeking from the tent now stepped out one by one, staring at the man who was both crying and furiously digging at the dirt with his bare hands. The strange contrast seemed fascinating to them.

-Tsrrrt? 『That guy’s crying.』

-Kssht?

-Kuuu? 『Did he take a hit to the head or something?』

-Skrrk. 『Tch. Nah. He just got spooked 'cause he didn’t get hit properly. Same thing happened to Yeolbi once.

Hyung, this guy didn’t get enough of a beating earlier. Where’s that club? I had a feeling you were going easy on him.

Give him a few more whacks and he’ll snap out of it.』

That was Orange, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

He clearly thought the guide was just faking it again — same as earlier.

But when I saw the man digging blindly with his eyes shut, cold sweat dripping down his forehead, I realized this wasn’t just dramatics.

His voice, too — it was saturated with terror.

‘Okay, this doesn’t seem like sleepwalking. So what the hell is it? Was he actually traumatized?’

Just as I was about to step forward and stop him, voices began stirring from Yo-hwa’s tent nearby.

Given how loud the guide’s screaming was, ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) it would've been strange if people hadn’t woken up.

“What the hell is that noise?”

“Something’s happening outside.”

“So-ryong?”

“Ugh... I bet it’s that old man again. I went easy on him ‘cause of his age.”

I’d heard Hu-gae Makgok held the second-highest rank in the Beggars’ Union, just below the Chief Whip.

Even the knot at his waist was a symbol of his status.

Despite his rank, he’d been relatively polite to the older guide throughout the trip — speaking informally, sure, but never crossing a line.

At least, that was before this happened.

After what the guide pulled earlier, Hu-gae clearly considered him untrustworthy. Now, he was convinced this was more of the same nonsense — like Orange — and came stomping out of the tent with his sleeves rolled up.

“Master always said beggars respond best to the stick. Can’t argue with that.”

Just as he reached the tent entrance, Orange handed him an even sturdier-looking club than before.

-Skrrrk. 『Here you go, sir.』

“Ahhh, thank you kindly, executioner.”

-Skraaah. 『Don’t mention it. I’ve raised kids too — I get it.』

It was like watching two grown men having a silent, masculine exchange — even if Hu-gae didn’t understand a word Orange said, somehow they just clicked.

After the handoff, Hu-gae spat on his palms, rolled up his sleeves again, and marched forward.

“You disobeyed So-ryong and put everyone at risk, then have the gall to wake the whole camp in the middle of the night? Time to put down a rabid dog!”

I quickly stepped in front of him before he could swing.

“Wait. Something’s wrong, Hu-gae.”

“What do you mean, wrong?”

“I mean really wrong. He says his body isn’t doing what he tells it to.”

“?”

A cartoonish question mark could’ve floated over Hu-gae’s head.

Still, he glanced past me at the guide, then strode up and grabbed him by the collar—

Or rather, tried to.

Shrrrk!

The guide’s tattered clothes tore in Hu-gae’s hand.

His eyes went wide.

“What...? What kind of strength is this?”

“P-please! Help me!”

Even with his upper garments ripped open, exposing his torso, the guide didn’t react. He just kept digging, flat on the ground like his body had fused to the earth.

Judging from Hu-gae’s words, he meant the guide was exerting abnormal strength — and to confirm it, he tried pushing him aside.

But the man didn’t budge.

Even when Hu-gae got into a full wrestling stance and tried dragging him from behind, the guide’s body didn’t move an inch, as if rooted to the ground.

“That’s... kind of disturbing,”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“It’s giving me chills.”

“Kids, you shouldn’t watch stuff like this.”

-Tsrrrt? 『Why not?』

“It’s... gross.”

A shirtless man face-down in the dirt, while another man clutched him from behind in a full-body hold — yeah, no one wanted to keep watching that.

Everyone averted their eyes.

As they did, Gwiseong quietly offered a suggestion.

“Use internal energy.”

“He’s putting out so much force right now, I’m worried using mine might hurt him...” Hu-gae muttered.

Which made sense. If the guide was already moving with superhuman strength, trying to suppress him with internal energy might shred his muscles.

In the end, Hu-gae gave up on brute strength and tried pressing one of the man’s pressure points — hoping to knock him out.

Moments later, his startled voice broke the silence.

“That was the numbing point. But...”

The ma-hyeol — a pressure point used to paralyze the body.

I clearly saw Hu-gae press it. But the guide kept digging as if nothing had happened.

“You missed it, maybe?” I asked.

“No, Master Jaheo — I might be lower in rank than you, but I don’t make rookie mistakes like that.”

“Let me try.”

“Please do.”

Master Jaheo stepped forward and did the same — pressing precisely — but the guide still didn’t stop.

He kept moving.

Jaheo looked genuinely shocked.

“This makes no sense. If he’s alive, his pressure points should work. But...”

That revelation changed the mood.

When he first said his body was moving on its own, we weren’t sure what to think. But pressure points not working? That was serious.

To a martial artist, it was almost unnatural.

Every living person has meridian paths — channels through which their qi flows. If you press those at the right spot with focused internal energy, you can produce various effects.

Press the ma-hyeol, and the body paralyzes.

Press the sa-hyeol, and it can be fatal.

Su-hyeol puts people to sleep, ah-hyeol silences their speech, and hun-hyeol knocks them unconscious.

But if none of them work?

That could mean the person was as good as dead — in terms of energy flow.

Sure, pressure points sometimes don’t work on masters with higher cultivation, or those with special techniques to shift their points.

But the guide had neither of those qualifications.

“What about the fainting point — hun-hyeol?”

Hu-gae nodded and struck the fainting point quickly, but the guide’s hand didn’t stop. He kept digging, mechanically.

“What in the world is going on?”

“This is... unbelievable. His pressure points really aren’t responding?”

Everyone stared, stunned, as realization set in.

Seol pointed at the guide and spoke.

“Hold on. Something’s strange.”

“Strange?”

“Yeah. He went quiet.”

“...Now that you mention it—”

Until she said it, none of us had noticed.

The guide, who’d been screaming for his life just moments ago, had suddenly gone completely silent.

Hearing that, Hu-gae walked over to check and suddenly shouted with his eyes wide.

“H-he passed out!?”

“He fainted?!”

“But his body’s still moving?”

‘He fainted?’

That made no sense. How could someone move so clearly and deliberately if they were unconscious?

We all looked confused—but something clicked in my head.

Now that the guide had dug a fairly deep hole, his upper body was lower than before. I crouched beside him to check his face.

His eyes were shut—just like before, right before I woke him up.

Back then, he’d been asleep, but his body had still been moving. Now, it was the same: he wasn’t awake, but his body moved on its own.

This wasn’t about his pressure points being ineffective—it was clear the points had worked. And yet, his body was still moving.

“Yo-hwa!”

-Kssht?

I quickly called out to Yo-hwa.

“Tie him up. Just leave his head and hands out, and wrap the rest in silk—use your most elastic thread. Make it a cocoon.”

-Ksshhhee.

-Shrrrk.

Before I’d even finished speaking, Yo-hwa had darted over, wrapped her limbs around the guide, and started spinning silk.

Considering her strength, it was nothing to her—binding a grown man was effortless.

Soon, the guide’s body began to turn into a white cocoon, spinning round and round.

“Won’t he get hurt? I didn’t use internal energy earlier because I was afraid of damaging his muscles...”

Hu-gae had come up again, clicking his tongue but clearly still concerned.

I smiled and reassured him.

“It’s fine. Yo-hwa’s silk can stretch and compress as needed. I told her to use the most flexible kind, so the pressure will increase slowly. He won’t be injured.”

Yo-hwa’s thread was naturally elastic—like a perfectly designed compression wrap. It would squeeze him gently but firmly, with no damage to his body.

“That’s a relief. Thank you.”

Soon, the guide was immobilized.

Even wrapped like a cocoon, he kept twitching and wriggling—like a larva trapped in its silk.

“What is going on?”

“You check his pulse. You’re trained in Beggars’ Union internal arts—it’s best if you handle this.”

“Alright.”

His head and wrist were left free for just this purpose, so feeling the pulse wasn’t difficult.

As I gave Yo-hwa a quick pat on the head for her work, Hu-gae’s voice rang out in alarm.

“Wh-what the hell?!”

He looked pale with shock.

Master Jaheo turned toward him.

“What is it?”

Hu-gae pointed to the cocooned man, his expression baffled.

“There’s something inside him.”

“Inside his body?”

That got everyone’s attention. We all took a step back from the guide.

Jaheo approached and checked the pulse himself.

“This might be dangerous, so forgive me,” he muttered, then glanced toward Hwa-eun.

“Something really is inside him. But I can’t tell what. Would you take a look, please? The Tang Clan’s knowledge of the human body is as vast as its venom arts.”

“You think it’s okay?” she asked, hesitating.

She was worried about checking a Beggars’ Union practitioner’s body without permission.

Jaheo gave Hu-gae a nudge, snapping him back to his senses.

“O-of course. Please—check.”

Hwa-eun stepped forward and carefully felt the guide’s pulse, watching his wriggling form.

Eventually, she nodded.

“You’re right. Something is growing inside him. Thin, thread-like strands... spreading throughout his body. I don’t know what it is, but it’s moving.”

But she couldn’t identify exactly what it was.

“I think... it’s controlling his movements.”

‘Controlling his body? Wait—no way—!’

Hwa-eun’s comment triggered a sudden spark in my mind.

“Could it be...?”

“What is it, So-ryong? Did something come to you?”

“Do you have an idea?” Seol asked.

With both women looking at me, everyone’s eyes naturally followed.

I glanced around, then nodded slowly.

“I can’t be certain... but I have a theory.”

“Well?”

“The Locust King’s toxin.”

That statement turned all attention to Hwa-eun.

She had previously said it wasn’t poison, and if this was caused by the Locust King, it would reflect on her judgment.

“But didn’t Miss Hwa-eun say it wasn’t poison?”

Hu-gae asked carefully. I nodded and followed up.

“She was right. It’s not technically poison.”

“Then what is it?”

“Do you know what Cordyceps really is? Most people think it’s a type of plant. But it’s not.”

“It’s not a plant? Then what is it?”

“It’s a fungus.”

“Cordyceps... is a mushroom?”

Everyone blinked at that. By the standards of this era, that was hard to grasp.

It would take too long to explain in full, so I skipped the taxonomy and just gave them the gist. Seol also gestured for me to keep it simple.

“Yes. It’s a unique kind of fungus that grows inside insects.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with this?”

“Well, fungi like Cordyceps that parasitize living insects have an ability—a terrifying one. They grow inside a host and control its body from within.”

“You mean... like puppeteering the body?”

It’s a recent discovery, but some strains of Cordyceps can actually mind-control insects.

“Yes. Some of them force bugs to climb trees or hang from leaves before killing them and sprouting from their heads.”

“Then... are you saying Cordyceps is growing inside the guide’s body?”

“Most likely. I think that yellow cloud earlier was filled with Cordyceps spores.”

“Then... what do we do?!”

Honestly, I didn’t know the full solution.

But one thing was clear.

“We need to find the Locust King. Fast. If anyone knows how to fix this, it’s him. If we take too long, the fungus inside will...”

“Will... what?”

“...grow.”

“And then?”

I closed my hand into a fist and slowly opened it.

If we’re too late, the mushroom’s fruiting body—its reproductive structure—will burst through the host’s head to spread more spores.