Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 265

Chapter 265
“Cho, Tski!!?”

The creature had been flailing on its back, legs kicking wildly—until the sound of my voice made it go perfectly still.

Its antennae gradually swiveled in my direction. Since its head was turned the other way, it couldn’t see me; it must have detected me through those feelers instead.

Why was this little one suddenly lying here upside down? My eyes swept the area—and there beside me were Cho, Hyang, Bini, and Hwayang, all deep in sleep.

The way they were knotted together in a snug pile instantly drew my attention.

Cho’s chin was propped on Bini’s body, Hyang was sprawled comfortably over Cho, and Hwayang was squeezed into the slim gap between Hyang and Cho.

They were coiled together like children bundled in festive silk—a sight so heartwarming and sweet it made my chest ache.

Was this… the peaceful vision of sisterly closeness I had always hoped to see?

“What’s going on? When did they become so tight?”

A smile found its way onto my face.

There had always been a certain strain among the girls. Hwayang and Hyang typically slept together, but Bini and Cho maintained a reserved distance, often choosing to sleep on opposite sides of the room back in the Tang Clan’s quarters.

But now they were all heaped together in one sleeping mass. It could only mean one thing: that silent conflict between them had finally ended.

“You little troublemakers…”

Without thinking, I stretched out my hand and softly stroked Cho’s head where she slept on Bini. Her antennae quivered side to side, much like the ears of a dreaming puppy.

“How do you manage to look cute even sleeping upside down, you little bug girl?”

Just as my hand moved toward the back of her head, intending to pet the others next… my fingertips snagged on something.

It was something stuck to Cho’s head—it came loose, tumbled down Bini’s side, and hit the floor.

—tok, tok tok.

Even the smallest objects sounded distinct on the wooden floor. Interested, I bent down to retrieve it.

—crackle.

But it fell apart in my fingers before I could even grasp it.

Inspecting the crumbled remains, I understood immediately—it was dried mud.

It had turned to dust, too parched to maintain its form.

Most might not recognize it or know its origin, but I did. I’d spent years gathering specimens in the wild and knew it well.

—thump, thump.

“This is mud from a riverbottom or a marsh, isn’t it?”

A faint odor remained—a mix of stagnant water and decay. Definitely the type of mud dredged from the bottom of a river or a boggy stream.

And in that moment, everything became clear.

These kids…

Now I knew why they had been sleeping so soundly all day.

At first, I assumed it was their natural nocturnal instincts reemerging now that we were in the wilderness. But that wasn’t the case.

They had obviously been slipping out at night.

Even on the day I had explicitly designated for rest.

Of course, they were wild by nature—but even with their instincts reawakening, this had felt unusual. Particularly how they seemed more exhausted than the others afterward.

And now I also understood why their sisterly bond had flowered so abruptly.

They had been sneaking out together—forming their own little covert group without my knowledge. Naturally, they’d grown closer.

They were sharing a secret.

And nothing forges a bond like a shared secret—even if the ones involved aren’t exactly human.

“So then… was that beetle a souvenir from their nighttime escapade? Or perhaps a peace offering to avoid a scolding?”

I turned my gaze from the sleeping girls to the Bombardier Beetle still lying nearby, its antennae carefully following my movements.

The twitching of its feelers made me chuckle softly.

Whatever the intention, the beetle was likely a gift they had collected for me.

And honestly, a Bombardier Beetle as their first present for their Daddy?

My girls understood me perfectly.

It was practically the ideal specimen—a living example of what I’d classify as a premium-grade Trouble Pokémon.

I decided in that moment not to reprimand them for their nighttime adventures.

They had clearly disobeyed me. I had cautioned them about safety, about not wandering off alone.

And yet… how could I possibly scold them when their connection had deepened—and they brought back a gift like this?

I approached the motionless beetle and spoke in a hushed tone.

“Please don’t spray any toxins at me, alright? I’m going to turn you over now, okay? I’m not here to hurt you.”

—choki.

It replied with a quiet sound.

I moved swiftly and righted it. The creature drew a large breath, its abdomen swelling out as if it were sighing.

It had probably been on the verge of unleashing a toxic blast—likely angling its rear toward me for the attack.

But that exhale—it felt more like a sigh of resignation than a warning.

Now that it was upright, I noticed something else.

Strands of thread—Yo-hwa’s thread—were stuck to its carapace.

Looking more closely, I saw the thread had been fastened between the shell plates on both sides, sewing them together like a sutured injury.

“So Yo-hwa was part of this too, then.”

That explained it.

Beetles have wings—they can right themselves by fluttering them.

But this one couldn’t.

Because Yo-hwa had used her silk thread to literally stitch its wing cases shut.

Just like closing a wound.

I gave the unfortunate creature a sympathetic look.

It wasn’t hurt, true—but if the girls had captured it and hauled it back, it probably hadn’t had a pleasant experience.

“I’m So-ryong,” I said gently. “My apologies if my children were a bit rough with you.”

The beetle shuddered.

It watched me with a guarded expression, and I studied it just as intently, noting every feature.

Yes—without a doubt, a Bombardier Beetle.

Its common English name is Bombardier Beetle.

Scientific name, Carabidae.

Exactly as I’d guessed—it was one of the classic explosive beetles.

This particular one had a more rounded, stout shape than the typical Bombardier Beetle—but the pattern on its back was one I knew well. And the scent clinging to its body removed any lingering doubt.

The reason I’d identified it as a Bombardier Beetle the instant I opened my eyes was because of that smell.

The primary compound in the liquid it sprays is 1,4-benzoquinone.

It’s a potent chemical—pungent like bleach or chlorine, a sharp, acrid stench that assaults the nostrils.

I’d spent decades pursuing these creatures. There was no chance I was wrong.

‘Ah, so this is the “watermelon” that Subsubi mentioned?’

And just from the beetle’s looks, I could tell Subsubi’s “watermelon” undoubtedly referred to this fellow.

It truly was shaped like a watermelon.

With an orange body adorned by black stripes, it bore enough resemblance to a melon to earn the name.

It also made sense now why capturing it must have been such a challenge—even for them.

That 1,4-benzoquinone interferes with basic neurological functions. It’s a vicious irritant.

And since the spray instantly reaches nearly 100 degrees Celsius upon release, getting burned is almost a certainty.

Seeing how its body had reddened before death, it must have endured burns that became infected and ultimately fatal.

‘Still… this is quite a find.’

After a thorough examination of the beetle, I felt an unexpected surge of satisfaction.

No surprise—it was a natural-born combatant.

Beetles, in general, are fighters by instinct. Highly aggressive, and mostly carnivorous.

But Bombardier Beetles? They operate on a different level.

They can eject benzoquinone a distance sixty times their own body length.

They can manage up to twenty consecutive shots in rapid succession.

And this one? A rare male.

Until now, all I’d had were delicate girls. It was a comfort to finally have a resilient little fellow like him—a born scrapper.

“Jackpot,” I thought, just as the beetle turned its body to show me its back, where Yo-hwa’s silk thread remained attached.

—Choki?

It was likely asking if I would remove it. I asked in response.

“You want me to take it off? So you can flee?”

—Tski!

Its antennae vibrated with excitement, and it bobbed its head eagerly.

Back when it was upside down, it could only sense me with its antennae, so it hadn’t witnessed me gently petting Cho.

Because of that, it still didn’t trust me completely.

And unlike Yeondu, this one had been taken unexpectedly, so its desire to escape was only natural.

‘What should I do… how do I form a connection with this one?’

I was just pondering how to convince it to remain with us—

—Tski!

It shoved its back toward me again, insisting I untie it.

But before I could respond, I detected motion at the entrance.

—ting, ting.

—Ts, Tski!

Alarmed, the beetle jerked its head around in a panic and promptly flipped itself onto its back again.

It returned to the precise position I’d first found it in, legs trembling feebly as it lay inverted.

Was it a fear of spider predators?

Or perhaps it was simply because Yo-hwa had been the one to bind its back?

—Kishi?

A shadow moved past the entrance, and then Yo-hwa entered the room.

She noticed I was awake and called out a greeting, just as the beetle froze, staring at me with a look of pure astonishment.

Its antennae shot upright—as if it couldn’t believe what was happening.

Then Yo-hwa scooped up the beetle with one hand, strode over to me briskly, and presented it as an offering.

“Oh, Yo-hwa, good morning. Did you rest well?”

—Kishishi.

“Is this for me? Did you retrieve it yourself?”

—Kishit.

She extended the beetle as if it were a treasured gift, then gestured toward the other girls who had assisted in its capture.

Finally, she pointed at herself.

It seemed they had all collaborated to catch the beetle and bring it back.

The beetle’s eyes widened—they were nearly as large as lanterns.

“Well then… thank you, Yo-hwa.”

I took the beetle, offered an awkward smile, and looked into its eyes.

“Let’s work on being friends, alright? We’re companions now.”

—Ts… Tski…

Its antennae sagged limply.

***

The beetle the girls had captured was called a Bangbichung in the Central Plains dialect—which translates to “Farting Bug.”

It was not listed among the Ten Deadliest Venomous Creatures or the Twenty-Four Poisons.

It wasn’t even referenced in the Heavenly Demon Venom Compendium.

Even Hwaun was unfamiliar with it. She stated she had never encountered it in any text.

“Tianzhen Qinghua, Ilwol Seongjin, Unusaembal.
Gold, silver, water, fire. Red, blue, white, black.
Flowers, grains, grass, fruit.
It doesn’t fall under any of those categories, ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ So-ryong.”

“Correct. I have never heard of a divine creature named Bangbichung.
I have studied the compendium thoroughly with your scribe and have memorized its contents—but this entity is not included anywhere.”

Reflecting on Hwaun’s words, I understood that the Heavenly Demon Venom Compendium only cataloged venomous creatures native to the Central Plains.

This location wasn’t some obscure part of the Central Plains—it was an entirely separate realm.

So it was logical that this beetle remained undocumented.

But that didn’t disappoint me.

On the contrary—I was exhilarated.

Because when you find a species that hasn’t been recorded… who earns the right to name it?

The discoverer, of course.

I named the beetle immediately: Yeolbi Beetle — Hot-Fart Beetle.

Given its high-temperature chemical spray, the name was a perfect match.

And I gave it a proper name as well: Yeolbi.

“Let’s get along, Yeolbi.”

I smiled as I spoke its name for the first time.

There was no reply.

But then came the ominous murmuring from the older sisters.

—Tsrrr.
—Kishit!
—Tskk?

Yeolbi’s antennae went rigid.

He clearly wasn’t willing, but he answered with a grudging murmur.

—Ts… Tsuki…

Under the menacing gazes of his new “older sisters,” he had no choice but to feign cheerfulness.

—Tsiiit! Tsuki. Tsuki!

***

—padadadadak.

The sound of Yeolbi’s wings beating resonated through the still night air, dispersing in every direction.

He had flown a distance that would normally require a rest by now.

But he didn’t cease flapping.

He had been confined for the past ten days, escaping only by a stroke of fortune.

If he slowed down even slightly, those dreadful “sisters” might pursue him and subject him to more torment.

So he flew with every ounce of his strength, driving himself frantically toward the far-off mountain peak.

And below that summit—his Big Brother was waiting.

His Big Brother—the monarch of all divine beasts on this island.

He would plead for revenge. To repay this humiliation.

—padadadak.

He finally arrived at the mouth of a dark cave.

Yeolbi called out into the black depths.

—Tsuki! Tsukiit! “Big Brother! Please help meee!”

And then—from deep within the darkness—two luminous eyes snapped open.

A deafening roar erupted from the cave’s interior.

—SKAAAAAA.

A roar brimming with power and intent.