The Village Gate
Seo Hae-jin walked along the dirt road.
He moved without hurry. The morning air was bright and cold against his skin.
Behind him, the two larvae crawled unseen through the grass.
They were patient. Just like him.
A line of wooden fences appeared ahead. Beyond them, he saw low houses with tile roofs. Smoke curled up from chimneys. Chickens pecked in the yards.
It was a small village. Maybe fifty homes. Nothing special.
But it was alive. And that was enough.
He stepped off the road, into a patch of tall weeds. From here, he could watch the main gate without being seen.
A pair of men were standing guard. They looked bored. One leaned on a spear. The other kept yawning.
Seo Hae-jin studied them.
Their clothes were simple—patched shirts and leather boots. They were not soldiers. Just villagers with weapons.
He raised his hand. The Symbol glowed faintly.
> > [Larvae, hold position.]
The two creatures froze.
He lowered his hand and waited.
A wagon creaked past the guards. The driver waved. One of the men called out something about fresh vegetables. They laughed.
He watched in silence.
Sooner or later, someone would notice the missing hunters. Fear would spread. Then rumors. Then panic.
It was always the same pattern.
He crouched low in the weeds, thinking.
He could release the larvae now and let them feed. But it was too early. He needed more information. He needed to see how the villagers reacted to loss.
Weakness shows in how people grieve, he thought.
He remembered watching entire cities fall apart over the bodies of their heroes. The grief always made them stupid. Easy to predict.
A soft vibration pulled his focus back to the Symbol. One of the larvae had found something near the fence—a dog sniffing around the grass.
He watched through the link.
The dog was old. Its fur was patchy. It didn't sense the larva at all.
Consume.
The larva lunged. Its small jaws locked onto the dog's leg.
The animal yelped, tried to run. It staggered, then collapsed on its side, legs twitching.
The guards looked over, confused.
"Hey, what's wrong with Old Taro?"
One of them walked closer. He prodded the dog with the end of his spear.
The larva retreated into the weeds, leaving no trace.
"It's dead," the man said. "Just keeled over."
The other guard frowned.
"That's bad luck."
Seo Hae-jin didn't move. He could feel the larva rejoining its sibling in the shadows.
> > [Unit Consumed Prey.]
[Growth: +1 Level.]
[Current Level: 4.]
Good.
Even small kills were useful.
He turned his eyes back to the road. A few villagers were gathering near the gate, talking in low voices. Probably gossip about the missing hunters.
Fear starts small, he thought. One death. Two disappearances. A dog dying in the grass.
Soon, it would grow.
He stood and stepped deeper into the weeds, staying out of sight.
He needed a place to watch from. Somewhere close enough to hear their voices.
Beyond the fence, a storage shed leaned against the outer wall. The roof was half-collapsed. No one was nearby.
Perfect.
He slipped around the edge of the fence, moving low. His steps were silent. The system guided his body, correcting every movement.
When he reached the shed, he crouched behind a pile of old boards.
From here, he could see the main road and the square.
He lifted his hand again.
> > [Deploy One Larva.]
A single larva shimmered into view, resting in his palm.
"Stay close," he whispered.
The creature crawled down his arm, disappearing under the boards.
He settled into place and waited.
Above the roofs, birds wheeled in the sky. The sun was climbing higher.
Soon, someone would organize a search party.
When they did, he would learn who held authority here. Who commanded respect.
Those were always the first to die.
He rested his hand on his knee.
For a moment, he closed his eyes.
In the darkness behind his lids, he pictured the village in ruins.
Corpses in the dust. Homes burning.
It was not a fantasy. Just a certainty waiting to happen.
He opened his eyes again.
He would let them think they were safe a little longer.
Then he would show them what real fear looked like.