The fat cat—or rather, the Duke—didn't care at all what Han Su thought of him. He cast Han Su a lazy glance, then turned around. After waddling forward a few steps, he turned back and flopped down in front of a room.
The door to the room was ajar, and light spilled through the crack.
From the cat's expression and reaction, Han Su realized something.
He knew this was extremely dangerous, but when he thought of his current predicament, he steeled himself and went for it. He shook his slightly dizzy head, silently recited a Spell, and inched forward without making a sound.
Peering through the crack in the door, he saw what was inside. His heart gave a sudden jolt.
The Worm Monk.
The monster in the loose black clerical robes, its body teeming with insects, sat quietly in a chair, reading.
If not for the insects covering him, his pose would have held the beauty of an ancient statue.
The key he had been thinking about was at the Worm Monk's waist.
The chair stood in the middle of the room. Beside him sat a vessel that could just about be made out as a bathtub. It was piled with soil—or perhaps with all kinds of insects, burrowing through the dirt.
A girl was buried inside, with only her head exposed. She was already numb and stiff, letting the insects crawl over her face and scalp.
Only her swollen eyes showed that she had once cried.
"The Worm Monk is right here."
Han Su forced down his nerves. "But how do I get the key off him?"
For now, he only dared to take in the room's layout and confirm that the key was indeed on the Worm Monk. Then he quickly pulled his gaze away.
Even so,