Seoul Cyberpunk Story-Chapter 107: Giant Caterpillar

It was always peaceful in Dino Park.

I got bored of playing with the Water Pig instrument almost immediately.

It wasn’t easy to produce a variety of tones like I thought...

And I didn’t particularly enjoy performing music, anyway.

So the moment I set the Water Pig down on the floor, it immediately fused back into a single body.

“Hm...”

The Water Pig had returned to its usual form, but since I’d gotten used to its smaller size, it felt less cute now.

Maybe that was why I felt the random urge to smack it, so I gave its plump back a good whack.

“Gyuh-hing-hing.”

I let out a satisfied smile at the sound of its squeal.

Watching the Water Pig flee with its chubby belly jiggling, I made my way toward the break room.

When I opened the door to the break room, an unexpected scene unfolded.

Aria was sitting on the floor surrounded by dozens of children, teaching them something with intense focus.

Each child was holding a tiny data pad, no bigger than a fingernail, and their screens were filled with complex code and network architecture diagrams.

“Okay, look here. This is a basic firewall bypass technique. First, we do port scanning...”

Aria’s explanation continued, but the children’s eyes had long since lost focus.

A few of them were nodding off, and some were staring blankly into space as if their souls had been sucked out.

In front of the dazed children sat a large glass jar.

The transparent container was filled to the brim with colorful rock candy, and a sign had been placed in front of it reading: <Prize>.

'She baited them with rock candy...'

Aria’s plan was simple.

She promised to give rock candy to any child who successfully learned hacking.

The problem was—she had chosen the wrong targets.

I sighed and shook my head.

‘It’s pointless...’

Trying to teach the dumb version of the children was something I’d attempted myself a hundred years ago.

The results had always been the same.

No matter how much you trained them, the children never got smart enough to handle anything that complicated.

And sure enough, some of them were already showing abnormal reactions.

[I feel dizzy...]

[The sky... it's spinning...]

One of the kids holding a data pad began to sway and then toppled sideways.

And just like dominos, the other children started collapsing one by one.

In the end, they were all sprawled out on the floor.

Like melted pizza cheese, the kids had gone limp and motionless.

Their brains had been pushed to the limit and forced into overdrive.

Aria looked around at the fallen children with a flustered expression.

I walked over slowly and lifted the limp hand of one of the collapsed kids.

And let go.

Flop.

The small, powerless hand hit the floor with a soft splat.

It was squishy and jiggly, like jelly—completely devoid of tension.

I picked it up again and dropped it.

Flop.

Flop.

Flop.

I kept playing like that until Aria finally opened the jar and started handing out the rock candy.

Hehe.

****

When I stepped out of the break room, I saw a massive structure installed in the empty room across the hallway.

It was a miniature garden Iris had painstakingly crafted.

What had once been small enough to fit on a table had now grown so large that it needed a dedicated space of its own.

The meticulously made miniature grass swayed as if in a real breeze, and the tiny trees were detailed down to each delicate leaf.

At the center of the garden was a giant mushroom-shaped house, like something straight out of a fairytale.

A classic fairy tale mushroom house, with a red roof dotted with white spots...

That was the home of Iris’s beloved caterpillar.

Hard to believe, but it was true.

The caterpillar, which had been growing relentlessly while eating like a pig, had finally grown too big to be kept in the break room.

So Iris had built this enormous model garden just for the pig caterpillar.

Well—I hadn’t actually seen just how big it had gotten myself, and I had no real desire to confirm it.

Curious, I took a peek into the garden, but there was no trace of the grotesque caterpillar in sight.

“...”

I quickly averted my gaze, worried we might make eye contact, and hastened my steps.

But I hadn’t gone far before I was forced to stop in my tracks.

“Gyuh-hing-hing...”

A plaintive cry echoed from deep within the garden—too distinct to ignore.

“Water Pig?”

Had Water Pig snuck into the model garden to take a bite out of the caterpillar while Iris wasn’t watching?

But the sound didn’t quite match the triumphant roar of a predator—it sounded more like a cry for help.

I hesitated in front of the garden’s tiny front gate.

The moment curiosity overtook my revulsion,

I let out a sigh and tiptoed my way into the garden.

Carefully, I made my way between the model trees, moving toward the source of the noise.

“!”

And then—behind the mushroom house—I was met with a shocking sight.

The enormous caterpillar had Water Pig clamped in its mouth and was flinging it side to side like crazy.

‘When did it get that big?’

The caterpillar I remembered was, at most, the size of a forearm. Now, it looked even bigger than me.

Even so, that kind of size increase was unnatural.

Shouldn’t it have molted and evolved into a butterfly or something before getting that huge?

Off to one side of the model garden, Whitey and Water Pig stood frozen, helpless to rescue their fellow Water Pig, just watching nervously.

[GYUUUUAAAAK!]

The Water Pig’s scream echoed throughout the garden.

I hesitated.

Should I help?

But...

‘I really don’t want to get near that disgusting thing.’

Up close, the giant caterpillar, covered in fuzz, looked even more horrifying.

And honestly, chances were high that Water Pig had picked the fight first.

If it tried to take a bite and got wrecked instead, that’s what you call karma.

“Hm...”

I quietly backed away, slipping out of the garden unnoticed.

“That’s not okay!”

As Aghwi’s distant wails and Iris scolding the caterpillar rang out behind me, I returned to the safe, cozy break room.

****

The briefing room of the BPD South Branch’s 9th Aberration Response Unit was quiet.

Just a few weeks ago, the emergency alarms had been blaring nonstop, but now they only rang once or twice a day—and most of those were false alarms.

The agents passed time playing cards or watching videos through their AR interfaces.

“It’s almost too peaceful lately. Makes me uneasy.”

Senior Inspector Aiden Crawford, the unit commander, muttered as he sipped his coffee.

Sergeant Sophia Chen, his deputy, nodded in agreement.

“Right? It’s kind of amazing how the Megacorps’ prediction turned out to be accurate. Usually these forecasts miss the mark.”

“Or it’s just the calm before the storm.”

The moment Aiden murmured that—

BEEEEEEP!

A shrill emergency alarm blared throughout the briefing room.

All agents received a simultaneous alert via their AR interfaces.

<EMERGENCY: Large-scale Aberration—South Outer Commercial Zone>

<Location: Near Old Chinatown>

<Scale: Spreading>

“The time to work has finally come.”

Aiden rose from his seat.

The listless gazes of the agents sharpened in an instant.

“Fully armed in five! Prepare for deployment!”

With that brief order, the break room became a war zone.

The agents began suiting up with practiced movements.

Their exosuits sealed tightly around their bodies with that distinctive hissing of pressure locks.

Heavy weapons on par with corporate enforcers’ loadouts were distributed one by one into the agents’ hands.

Incendiary rounds, cryo shells, electric shock grenades—specialized ammunition was loaded into magazines.

“Gatling gun check complete!”

“Grenade launcher nominal!”

“Exosuit power output stable!”

Amid the rapid-fire status reports, Aiden gave his plasma cannon a final once-over.

It was a fairly effective weapon, even against regenerative Aberrations like the fluorescent lizard.

“Let’s move!”

Divided into three armored vehicles, twenty-four agents rolled out toward the southern perimeter.

Outside the windows, the scenery grew increasingly desolate.

What had once been a bustling commercial district now sat shuttered and deserted.

Rumor had it that Jinlong Technologies had pulled out of the South Sector altogether.

The convoy stopped at the entrance of Old Chinatown.

And the moment they arrived, the Aberration Response Unit was greeted with—

“What the hell is this...?”

A stunned voice crackled through the comms.

The entire street was coated in glowing blue webbing.

It wasn’t like ordinary spiderwebs.

It shimmered faintly, as if made from some kind of fluorescent substance, and each strand was as thick as an adult man’s forearm.

Between buildings, across lamp posts and shop signs—even above the asphalt—massive webs stretched in complex, tangled layers.

Beyond the flickering neon signs, old Chinese characters peeked out:

Mr. Wang’s Dumplings, Golden Dragon Restaurant, Chwi Seonru...

This place that had once been full of life was now a ghost city caught in a giant web.

Even more disturbing—there was no response to any scans. No thermal, no motion, no pressure signatures.

No signs of life. No signs of an Aberration either.

As if both survivors and threats had simply ceased to exist.

Aiden analyzed the situation carefully.

With webbing on this scale, it wasn’t a standard spider-type Aberration.

There was a high probability the entity was massive—at least building-sized.

“Commander, this might be beyond our capacity to handle...”

Before Sophia could finish her sentence—

BEEEEP!

Another emergency alert appeared on Aiden’s AR interface.

<EMERGENCY: Southern Industrial Zone – Large-Scale Aberration Detected>

<Location: Abandoned Oil Refinery> 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

<Status: Spreading>

“What...?”

Almost simultaneously, another alert came through.

<EMERGENCY: Southern Residential Zone – Large-Scale Aberration Detected>

<Location: 12th Street Apartment Complex>

<Status: Spreading>

BEEEEP! BEEEEP!

The alerts blared in succession.

The AR interface was awash in red.

“What the hell is going on...?”

While Aiden was still processing it, the calls continued to pour in:

<EMERGENCY: Southern Commercial Zone, Sector B – Large-Scale Aberration Detected>

<EMERGENCY: Southern Subway Line 3 – Large-Scale Aberration Detected>

<EMERGENCY: Southern Riverside Expressway – Large-Scale Aberration Detected>

<EMERGENCY: Southern Central Hospital – Large-Scale Aberration Detected>

BEEEEP! BEEEEP! BEEEEP!

The deafening alarm tones flooded the comms channel.

One by one, the agents’ faces turned pale.

“Commander, this is...”

Sophia’s voice trembled.

“All of South Sector is being hit simultaneously...”

The entire southern region was being overrun by Aberrations.

As if someone had deliberately unleashed them—at the same time, in overwhelming numbers.

“Report to HQ and request secondary response units. Sergeant Chen, stay here with Team One and maintain control of the scene. The rest, move with me to the Industrial Zone. Civilian evacuation is the top priority!”

“Understood!”

The agents sprang into action with trained precision.

But everyone knew.

That with an outbreak of this magnitude, there was only so much they could do.

The armored vehicles began to move again.

Outside the windows, the chaos consuming the South Sector passed by in blurs.

In the distance, explosions echoed, and black smoke curled into the sky.

Aiden attempted to reach headquarters, but the comms network was already overwhelmed.

It wasn’t just the South. Similar events seemed to be erupting all across Babel.

‘What the hell is ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) happening...’

His AR interface continued flashing red.

New alerts were still coming in—but they didn’t even have the capacity to read them anymore.

BEEEEP. BEEEEP. BEEEEP.

Amid the endless alarm tones, the 9th Aberration Response Unit of the BPD charged headfirst into the heart of the chaos.