He once read in a book that tropical rainforests are hot and humid regions with exceptional conditions for plant growth. That must explain the insane size and thickness of the leaves. Trees so tall and dense they seemed like they’d give you a neck ache just from looking up at them filled the dim, shadowy jungle. As he passed through the thick jungle paths, it struck him again—of course everything grows huge when there are so many nutrients.
Pushing away the stubborn vines that kept tangling the path, Blaine suddenly muttered a sulky question:
“I didn’t even eat that much… so why…?”
“What time is it now?”
“Not sure…”
In a rainforest so densely packed with foliage, it was always dark, making it hard to even tell the time. Still, judging by how Blaine’s companion—whose face was already pale and soft—now looked as if someone had dumped a bag of flour over it, they must have been walking for quite a while. Blaine, feeling a squeeze of worry in his chest, reached out to gently stroke that trembling cheek.
“Should we take a break here?”
“I’m okay.”
Looking at the beautiful, sorrowful face forcing out a faint smile, Blaine was nearly ready to stomp in frustration. The rugged, hulking man stared blankly for a moment, then shook his head.
Everyone present knew what this delicate-looking creature really was—the one who looked like a single gust of wind could blow him away and hang him on a fig tree. A tarantula. Born with a monstrous body and unmatched strength to rival that of a rhinoceros beetle. More brutal, more dangerous, and infamous enough to earn the name “Birdeater.”
That name came with several implications. The most obvious and central being: he’s strong. Add in his viciousness and aggression—he even eats birds, despite being lower on the food chain—and you’d get a pretty good picture of his ferocity and absurd appetite.
“You say you’re okay, but look at your face—so pale! How many times have I told you not to overdo it?!”
The wasp rushed forward with a dodo-dodo sound, cupping the tarantula’s face in both his rough palms. Locking eyes with worry etched across his expression, the wasp’s sharply defined brows knit into a deep frown. Lines creased his perfectly smooth forehead, and even the tall, mountainous bridge of his nose gained soft wrinkles.
The truth was clear to everyone standing there: the one with those broad, impressive pecs and a strikingly handsome face wasn’t really a wasp. Which made the current situation just completely, unbelievably ridiculous. If he weren’t such a kind-hearted rhinoceros beetle, General thought, he would’ve burst out laughing by now.
“Then let’s just lean against that vine tree over there and rest—just for a little while. You’ll recover quickly.”
“Yeah, let’s do that. Want something to drink? Or maybe a snack?”
“Mm. Something sweet.”
With a bright, lovely smile, the pale beauty snuggled into Blaine’s wide chest, and Blaine happily stroked the back of his head again and again. Turning to General, who was still chuckling in disbelief, he waved him over.
“Gen, come over here too. Let’s eat some dried fruit and take a break.”
“Ooh.”
Dried fruit and jelly—General’s absolute favorites. If that meant putting up with this farce for a while, he could live with that. Grinning ear to ear, the rhinoceros beetle started to follow, but then came to a halt.
“What is it, General? Not coming?”
“Uh… I…”
The birdeater, who’d been rubbing his soft cheek against Blaine’s chest, slowly turned his head and fixed his cold, silvery eyes—emptied of emotion like metal—on General. He didn’t speak a word, but those eyes said everything, syllable by syllable: Back. Off. And if you don’t, be ready for pain.
“I-I just… need to use the bathroom…”
“…Ah.”
That damn day. The day General learned what kind of creature the tarantula really was—and the humiliating mess that followed. Who knows what kind of explanation he’d been given, but the giant, oblivious honeybee was now fully convinced that General had a bladder issue.
General couldn’t bear the pitying look in Blaine’s eyes that said, I won’t ask anymore, and quickly averted his gaze, shuffling away to hide in a corner.
He’s such a sweet guy. Based on how he talks, he must’ve studied a lot as a kid. Probably read tons of books. Compared to someone as ignorant as me, he’s clearly a smart, well-educated insect. And yet…
“A-Ah?! Hani, what are you doing…!”
“I said I wanted something sweet. Mmm…”
“Th-That’s not food—haah! Don’t bite—hiiieek!!”
…why does he seem even dumber than me? I just don’t get it. General let out a series of sorrowful sighs, pulled some cotton from his pocket, and stuffed it into his ears—hoping it wouldn’t take too long.
***
“Are we even going the right way?”
“I’m sure it’s around here somewhere…”
“You’ve already said that ten times.”
The man who had never spoken a word to him before suddenly snapped in a cold, sharp tone. General flinched.
I’m a rhinoceros beetle. I fear nothing. Look at these muscles. Look at this tough exoskeleton. There’s no reason I should be afraid of a tarantula.
General repeated the mantra over and over, trying to brainwash himself. But as the man drew a little closer, he freaked out and let out a pathetic yelp: “Gyaaah!!”
“I-It’s definitely here! I promise! I’ll find it soon!!”
“…Oh really?”
Not a shred of belief in that voice. General flailed his arms and legs trying to explain, but at the next sound of approaching footsteps, he shut his eyes tight, hunched his big shoulders, and shivered violently. Goodbye, cruel world.
“It’s okay, Gen. It happens.”
A kind voice—Blaine’s. General cracked open one eyelid to see the tarantula clicking his tongue in annoyance as he roughly grabbed one side of Blaine’s chest.
“It happens? Do you know how long we’ve been circling the area?”
“Eeek! H-Hurel… it still hurts there…!”
General had already figured it out, from what he’d overheard earlier even with his ears covered. The spider had been sucking his nipples like crazy. Now he was pinching and twisting one of those plump little buds between his thumb and forefinger, making the honeybee tear up and let out a whimper.
“Bee-Bee, care to explain why you’re siding with another man in front of me?”
Was that… was that just his way of asking to be manhandled? Blaine sniffled, wiping away tears with a huge fist while muttering something under his breath that General couldn’t understand. Normally, he’d be too heartbroken watching Blaine suffer like that to not intervene.
But having just narrowly escaped death seconds ago, General chose the coward’s path. He hated himself for it, but his survival instinct was too strong.
“Then you two rest over there! I’ll tell you right away when I find the entrance!”
The honeybee looked at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, shocked. Pretending not to see it was torture. It felt like a needle called Conscience was stabbing his heart without mercy.
“No, no! We’ll help too!”
“Bee-Bee, it’s better if we wait. Come along.”
“N-No…!”
No way they’d just cuddle and snack on dried fruit while waiting quietly. Blaine shook his head furiously, looking like the embodiment of despair. The spider’s eyes narrowed.
“What? You really wanna stay next to that beetle?”
When we see the sage, I’m not asking about stingers—I’m asking for a cure for jealousy. Blaine sniffled, finally giving in with a resigned sigh as he followed the spider.
***
Is this what it feels like to discover a new continent? Or to find a miracle herb that can save a bedridden wife? General let out a crazed cheer and dashed into the cave, where Blaine’s muffled moans echoed loudly.
The spider threw a pointed glare, clearly displeased as Blaine hurriedly straightened his shirt. General didn’t care one bit.
“I found it! I found the entrance!!”
“…What?”
He really found it? Hurel’s already sour expression twisted further.
“Really, Gen?!”
“Yes! I told you I’d find it!”
“…No way.”
