“You know, it would’ve been nice if you gave me a heads-up. You startled me, just showing up out of nowhere like that.”
The man spoke with a soft smile, then flicked a glance at the large honeybee and let out a light, amused chuckle. His voice was pleasant, teasing.
“Did your emergency ration really have to be that big?”
“What?”
“Ah, sorry. Was that not supposed to be said out loud? My mistake.”
Hurel’s smooth forehead subtly creased, arching slightly upward. So that’s how you want to play this? If that was really his intention, he wasn’t the only one holding the knife by the handle.
Hurel put on the same effortlessly cordial expression he’d practiced so many times over the past few months, it now came as naturally as breathing. He made no effort to acknowledge the way the man across from him frowned, as if something ugly had entered his field of vision.
“I had no idea the kind, beautiful ‘Sage’ General spoke of was actually Shane. What a surprise.”
“Ah, yeah! Back when I was studying abroad in this tropical rainforest, I accidentally fell while sucking on some sap and broke my leg. But luckily, I ran into the Sage!”
“Hmm.”
“I thought it was all over back then… but he kindly consoled me while I sobbed my eyes out, fixed up my leg, and even took amazing care of me. Honestly, I was homesick and depressed from being away from my family, but he treated me like one of his own….”
So that’s how it was, Hurel smiled meaningfully, locking eyes with Shane, whose expression immediately soured.
“Is that so? What a miracle.”
“Huh? What’s so miraculous about it?”
“The Shane I know… would never…”
“Haha, Hurel! You liked cricket cookies, right? Here, stuff your face!”
Laughing heartily, Shane shoved a handful of cookies into his full, red lips, pretending to be the very embodiment of fraternal kindness—all while completely ignoring the dagger-eyed glare aimed at him.
“…Hani, didn’t you tell me you didn’t like cricket cookies?”
“Mrrghrrgmm….”
His mouth stuffed with cookies, Hurel could only make furious humming noises that roughly translated to I don’t like them! Blaine, who had been sulking, brightened just a little.
Thank goodness. He wasn’t sure what was a relief, exactly, but from the moment this spider who knew way too much about Hurel showed up, something had felt off, and it had been bothering him.
“This bastard—I mean, this guy—really… haha. What a jokester.”
Hurel spat out a few cookie crumbs and muttered in a voice so cold it could send chills down a centipede’s spine. Yet the other spider, completely unfazed by the chilling tension, casually covered his mouth with a teacup and said,
“Picky eating isn’t good for you, Hurel.”
“Now that we’ve had our tea, let’s get on with the check-ups. General, shall we head downstairs?”
“Umm, but if it’s okay, could you look at Blaine first…?”
“Blaine?”
Shane repeated the name with his perfectly shaped lips, then noticed the honeybee, who was now awkwardly fidgeting with his fingers. His expression turned incredulous.
“I’ve been doing this for more than five years now, and I’ve never seen a victim ask for the assailant to be treated first.”
“Assailant?”
“Did I imagine our General getting the crap beat out of him earlier?”
Blaine’s face flushed bright red as he opened his mouth, lips trembling. Before he could say anything, Hurel—who had just elegantly set his teacup down—crossed his legs and wrapped an arm around the honeybee’s waist, pulling him in close.
“If you’re fragile enough to get hurt by this delicate little honeybee’s cotton-puff punches, you’ve got no right to call yourself a rhinoceros beetle. Honestly, General, have some pride.”
“W-What….”
This time, the beetle’s face flushed hot enough to explode.
“Delicate? Hurel, are you seriously listening to yourself?”
Shane briefly scanned the honeybee’s broad shoulders, bulging chest, and towering frame—features that no one in their right mind would associate with bee at first glance—and stammered.
Not that Hurel batted an eyelash.
“Enough chit-chat. How about you actually start checking on the patients, unlicensed doctor.”
“Wait—Sage, you’re unlicensed?!”
He’s not a real doctor?! Shane didn’t even bother defending himself. He knew it wouldn’t penetrate the beefed-up beetle’s brain. So he simply sighed, resigned.
“Well, great. Two patients showing up at once? What a special day. So heartwarming….”
“Three.”
“…Huh?”
The words were tossed out so nonchalantly that Shane blinked, not quite understanding. Whitey smiled—so effortlessly beautiful that no creature with normal aesthetic sensibilities could resist—and answered sweetly,
“Three, doctor.”
I have something urgent to discuss, the smile seemed to say. Shane’s expression curdled like he’d bitten into a bitter bug.
***
“I was so glad I wouldn’t have to see your face after graduation. But the universe just had to screw me this hard, huh?”
“You think I was dying to see yours?”
From the vibe, it was clear one of them had come here to ask for a favor. But his attitude? Brazen to the point of absurdity.
The White-Striped Redrump, who despised nothing more than being compared to the Giant White Tarantula, clicked his tongue.
“When I heard about a ‘Sage’ in the rainforest who treats injured creatures, but no one knows how, I had a feeling it’d be you.”
“If you’re so clever, you should’ve stayed away. Did you think I’d roll out a red carpet because you followed the rumors here? Gimme a break.”
“I didn’t want to come either. But I need a favor from you.”
There are plenty of licensed doctors out there, he thought, but you’re the only unethical quack who fits the bill.
The gray spider didn’t even have the energy to argue. He just stared in disbelief.
“If you want a favor, the least you could do is show up with a gift. You’ve got no shame.”
“A gift? I did bring one.”
If he cared about material gain, he would never have started patching up wounded creatures in the first place.
Still, curiosity flickered in Shane’s eyes—what the hell had this bastard brought as a “gift”? Eyebrow twitching, he waited.
Hurel offered a disgustingly serene smile and replied,
“Didn’t go exactly as planned, but it’s something edible. How you eat it is up to you.”
“…You mean the honeybee?”
“Motherfucker.”
Shane dodged the ornate coaster hurled at his head with ease, snickering to himself.
Of course he was going to eat it—nicely packaged and all. But if Hurel thought that meant he’d hand over the favor no-strings-attached, he was sorely mistaken.
“I don’t know what you’re about to ask, but if you thought you could buy me off with that, you’re dead wrong. I expect payment. A high one.”
“I thought this was volunteer work, doctor?”
“Mm… Giant White Tarantula’s an exception.”
Blame the species you were born as—or better yet, blame the fact you were born at all, Shane thought, spitting the cruel words with no real malice, just indifference.
The white spider only shrugged and tapped his red lips lightly with a graceful finger.
“Relax. I’ll keep your little secrets.”
“I’m the doctor, dumbass. What secrets are you selling? That clause goes both ways, so it’s void.”
Why don’t we tie up that giant honeybee and let him hear all about your school days? It’d take at least three days and nights to get through it. Assuming, of course, he doesn’t run screaming before then.
