With that scream, the drunkard felt the weight lift from behind him. His feet landed on the ground again, finding their footing.
The slick flagstones he had cursed hundreds and thousands of times now seemed exceptionally lovely, making him want to crawl on the ground and offer prayers of thanks.
That was assuming he could survive the monster's mouth in front of him.
With his legs supporting him, the drunkard could put more strength into his arms. He struggled desperately backward, but the several limbs wrapped around his waist and shoulders seemed forged from iron, utterly unmoving. He could only watch that gaping bloody mouth draw closer and closer.
"Don't come any closer!" he screamed desperately. "Get away!!"
"Mm, this should be that Joro Spider."
A young man's voice faintly reached his ears, rekindling the flame called hope in the drunkard's heart. "Help! Help! There's a monster!!"
"Quiet... then close your eyes." The young man's voice sounded beside his ear.
The drunkard had no intention of obeying. Alcohol burned through his mind, leaving him in an extremely agitated state, with only one thought filling his head: struggle.
And the young man only gave that one reminder.
Then—
A flash of white light swept past the drunkard's eyes.
Swish!
The drunkard suddenly realized that his struggle had worked. His upper body lightened, and propelled by the force beneath his feet, he lurched hard backward. Staggering back several steps, he finally landed on the wet flagstones with a thud.
Only then did he come back to his senses and look at the monster again.
The baby carriage appeared to have been cleaved apart by a sharp weapon, neatly severed into four or five pieces. The monster in the swaddling clothes had likewise been chopped to bits along with the carriage. Several withered,