– Gulp.

Everyone who saw my hand gesture froze in place.

Then, after a brief silence, they swallowed hard as they stared at the tips of my fingers, which had just finished moving.

Well, of course they did—because that hand sign meant someone’s head might explode.

Voices of horror quickly followed.

Brother Gwiseong and Ji-ryong, pale as ghosts, were the first to speak.

“T-That can’t be...”

“This makes no sense...”

Judging from everyone’s expressions, they were all clearly picturing a martial artist using the Internal Explosion Technique to grab someone’s head, inject energy, and—BOOM—detonate it.

Sure, there are explosives like gunpowder and Thunder Bombs (Pilrikdan), but in this Murim world, the explosion people are most familiar with is usually the one caused by an Internal Explosion Technique.

As everyone was caught in shock, a single offbeat question sliced through the tense atmosphere like a knife.

“D-Does it... shrink?”

Everyone turned to the voice.

Gungbong stood there, wide-eyed, clearly surprised.

It seemed he’d misunderstood the gesture where I clenched and opened my hand—he’d focused only on the "clenching" part.

“Been a while.”

It had indeed been a while since I heard such a pure-brained question.

Ji-ryong shook his head and began explaining.

Among the Dragon Fangs, it was Ji-ryong’s self-appointed duty to explain things whenever Gungbong said something like that.

And honestly, he was the only one with the patience and communication skills to do it at Gungbong’s level.

“Man, he really has it rough sometimes.”

“No, Gungbong. What I meant was that it could be like someone suffering from an Internal Explosion Technique—where their head might literally blow up.”

Everyone nodded in unison at Ji-ryong’s explanation.

Gungbong covered his mouth in shock.

“It could explode!? You mean—the head could blow up!? G-Good heavens.”

Is there really a meaningful difference between shrinking and exploding?

Both sound horrifying, but Gungbong somehow seemed more horrified by the idea of exploding.

And thanks to him, a wave of delayed questions followed.

“Ryong-ah, is that true?”

“Would the head really explode?”

Sister Seol and Hwa-eun’s questions came almost at once. Ji-ryong and the others turned to me as they nodded again.

Apparently, they were having a hard time believing it and needed reassurance.

“It’s not... really going to explode.”

Honestly, “explode” was a bit of an exaggeration.

It’s not like the head goes pop like a firecracker.

I decided to be honest, and the crowd visibly relaxed a little.

“So it’s not actually an explosion?”

“Right, I mean, how could someone’s head literally explode from martial arts?”

“Then what does it mean, young warrior?”

“Yeah, what was that hand gesture supposed to signify?”

Their expressions were a mix of mild relief and lingering confusion. Time to explain the gesture in detail.

“Didn’t I mention that Dongchunghacho is a kind of mushroom?”

“Yes, So-ryong.”

“Well, I’m not a fungus expert, but I know a fair bit about how these mushrooms torment their insect hosts. They grow inside the host's body, and once mature, they pierce through the head to release the fruiting body.”

So rather than “exploding”...

“It bursts through the head...”

As I explained, a familiar presence popped up above my head.

— Tsrrrt. 『Daddy, like this?』

Apparently, she’d been listening and wanted to check if she’d understood correctly.

It was actually perfect timing.

I pointed to the top of my head and said, “Yeah, just like this.”

Everyone’s relief shattered, replaced by another round of gasps.

Maybe Hyang’s demonstration had been too realistic?

“Urgh...”

“Good lord...”

“H-How much time do we have!?”

Amid the groaning, Hu-gae asked the most pressing question.

He was probably wondering how much time the translator had left.

And to be fair, it wouldn’t be that strange if the mushroom burst out of his head right now.

In traditional Cordyceps, the fungus winters inside a bat moth larva and pushes out the fruiting body in the spring to spread its spores.

That means the entire process takes a while—the host must survive the cold season first.

But this wasn’t just any Cordyceps. This one was a spiritual parasite.

So time was not on our side.

While we weren’t in the tropics, the climate was warm enough at the moment, and with the added spiritual power, this mushroom could be growing much faster than anyone expected.

And we already had proof.

The translator had tried digging into the ground earlier. That meant the Cordyceps had already taken control of his behavior—a sign that it had colonized most of his body.

“It’s already spread all the way through him.”

People usually think that parasitic control means hijacking the brain.

After all, controlling the brain lets you control the body.

Even Soul Seizing Arts (Seop-hon-sul) work by dominating the mind and robbing it of reason.

But the way Cordyceps manipulates insects is far more mysterious.

It doesn’t touch the brain. It spreads evenly through the body, wraps around the muscle fibers, and controls contractions directly.

That’s why the translator seemed conscious, but his body moved against his will.

It’s fascinating as a phenomenon, but for the victim? Pure horror.

Your mind stays sharp, but your body moves on its own—toward death.

“Cordyceps are sadistic little bastards. Cruel as hell to helpless insects.”

Based on that, it was safe to say the fungus had already invaded most of his muscle fibers.

And since he tried digging, that meant it was ready to spread its spores.

“The Cordyceps has only been in his body a few hours, and it’s already taken control. I doubt we have much time left.”

“When Cordyceps dominate their host’s body, they spread through the muscles so they can make it move however they want.”

“And if it’s already moving the body... then it’s fully taken over.”

As I finished, Hu-gae asked urgently, “Then shouldn’t we go find the Locust King right now?!”

He sounded ready to sprint out into the dark night that instant.

But if we approached at night, especially after today’s incident, they might think we were there to attack.

Considering the tension, it would be safer to move in the daylight, where we could at least show our faces.

“Yes, but... if we go now, they’ll think we’re coming for revenge. Let’s at least wait until morning.”

“Damn it...”

Even though the translator had caused the mess, Hu-gae still slammed the ground in frustration.

The man was part of his group, after all.

He knelt beside the translator and clenched his fists.

I decided to try and calm him down—no telling what rash action he might take in this state.

“There might still be hope. Let’s wait for sunrise.”

“Hope?”

It wasn’t all doom and gloom—there was a possibility.

I placed a hand on Hu-gae’s shoulder and explained.

“Remember the locusts we saw earlier today? The ones with Cordyceps growing out of them?”

“Yes? Was something strange about them?”

“Didn’t you notice the grass growing on those spots where the fungus had emerged?”

“Oh!”

“Exactly. Judging by the grass, those bodies had been there for over a month. Yet the Cordyceps had only just sprouted.”

There’s a difference between humans and locusts, but if those insects took at least one to two months, we might have that kind of grace period too.

“Wishful thinking, but it’s something.”

Hu-gae exhaled a deep sigh as he looked at the still-twitching translator.

“Whew... But it’s not guaranteed... Still, I guess we’ll wait for dawn.”

Even if it wasn’t a definite answer, it seemed to ease him a little.

Behind him, the flames of the campfire crackled and danced upward—as if echoing his unease.

***

We were about to eat something and head out for a search before sunrise.

But right before we could leave, the kids suddenly gathered—not to go, but to start a heated debate.

— Tsrrt. 『I’ll go, guys.』

— Tsrrr! 『Why is it always you, unni? It’s my turn this time!』

— Chrut! 『Yeah! Why is it always the big sister? Why do us younger ones always have to give in? I saw that people usually let the younger sibling go first! And that guy smells!』

— Gyuu 『I don’t like that person either. He stinks.』

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to go with anyone except me or Hwa-eun.

Thankfully, since the translator might die and the others were familiar enough faces, the kids had agreed to help this time.

The issue was who got paired with whom.

As you know, we needed to find the Locust King, and to do that, we had to split into multiple teams and fan out wide.

We could manage up to six search teams, and there was a reason we couldn’t go beyond that.

There were ten people total: me, Hwa-eun, Sister Seol, Brother Gwiseong and Sister-in-law, Ji-ryong and Eunbong, Gungbong, Master Jaheo, and Hu-gae Makgok.

As for the spirit beasts: Cho, Hyang, Bini, Seol, Bing, Dong, Yohwa, Sister Jeokwol, Moji and Soji, Yeondu and Orange, Sandan and Hongdan, Ranghyang, and Sister-in-law’s three Scarlet-Eyed Green-Spotted Mushrogs.

But we had to exclude Ranghyang and the three Mushrogs from the search.

Ranghyang was blind, and the Mushrogs required too much energy just to move around.

And someone needed to stay behind to monitor the translator, so Sister-in-law volunteered.

She would hold the base camp with «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» Ranghyang and the Mushrogs.

That left us with nine people and fourteen spirit beasts.

We could pair one human with one spirit beast, and I could personally handle Moji, Soji, Sister Jeokwol, Yeondu, and Cho—those capable of aerial reconnaissance—which gave us enough for nine teams.

The problem was communication.

If a team encountered the Locust King, a spirit beast capable of mental communication—registered in the Beast Heart Art—had to be with them to interpret and alert me.

So each team had to include one of the following: Cho, Hyang, Bini, Seol, Bing, or Dong.

But the real issue? All the kids wanted to go with me or Hwa-eun... and I could only be in one place.

Worse yet, none of them wanted to go with Hu-gae because they said he smelled.

As the noisy debate continued, Hu-gae asked nervously,

“Y-Young warrior, what are the kids saying?”

“Ah, they’re... deciding who goes with whom.”

“Sounds like they each have someone they want to go with?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“And, uh, who wants to go with me?”

His eyes sparkled as he asked, and all I could do was offer an awkward smile.

It was clear he was hoping someone would say they wanted to go with him.

But no one had.

“Well... we’re still deciding, you know.”

I gave a vague answer and figured I’d better step in. Dawn was approaching.

“Kids, it’s almost morning. We don’t have time for this. Just for today, let me decide the teams. If anyone’s upset, I’ll spend one-on-one time with you later, okay?”

— Tsrrt? 『Really?』

— Kishi?

“Of course. Promise.”

With that, the kids settled down and I divided us into six search teams.

Teams: