Shota's Isekai NTR Adventure Chapter 1977: Bugpocalypse (1)

"Can you guys hear that?"

"What are you even talking about?"

"Stop playing around and pay attention; we still have a massive workload to finish."

The mercenary who had raised the concern was immediately ridiculed by his comrades.

Despite the mockery, the man who asked the question couldn't stop scanning the surroundings with a bewildered expression.

He was genuinely hearing noises echoing from every direction. Even if the rest of the group remained oblivious, the sounds were crystal clear to him, and they were beginning to grate on his nerves.

Though faint, the rustling of something moving all around them was unmistakable.

Judging by the volume and frequency, it felt as though they were being completely encircled by something.

No matter how hard he tried to dismiss the sensation, being enveloped by such a noise made it impossible to ignore.

The more he attempted to block it out, the more agitated he became.

Eventually, he couldn't hold back and blurted out, "We really ought to get out of here..."

Their group leader looked displeased by the mercenary's remark. However, he refrained from taking action because the man was one of the original founding members of their crew.

That status was the only reason no one had disciplined him yet, despite his constant grumbling throughout the journey.

Being a founder granted him a certain level of prestige among the sellswords.

Nevertheless, his behavior was a hindrance to their primary goal: turning a profit.

"Just suck it up, we're almost at the destination," the leader muttered through clenched teeth, his voice betraying a mix of forced patience and simmering frustration.

Ultimately, the worried mercenary was forced to concede.

Yet, this was far from the only complication they would face.

"Where the hell is our target?"

Discontent spread through the ranks when the mercenaries discovered that the object of their mission was missing.

Based on the evidence, there was only one logical reason for the target's disappearance.

They had clearly cordoned off this area as their own territory.

For someone to swoop in and snatch their prize was nothing short of an open declaration of war.

"Find them," the leader commanded, his voice turning frigid. The mercenaries moved instantly to obey.

When their profits were at stake, there was no chance they would let the culprits escape unpunished.

However, as they began their search, they were baffled by the lack of expected evidence. Instead of human footprints or signs of a struggle, there were no tracks to be found at all.

The only visible marks were traces of insects crawling through the dirt, but they dismissed this as irrelevant. Even if the bug activity seemed higher than usual, they didn't believe mere insects could be responsible for their loss.

"Is this truly the best you can do?" the leader demanded, his tone growing even more menacing.

The mercenaries flinched at his words, but they were at a loss. No matter how thoroughly they combed the area, they couldn't find a single sign of human passage besides their own.

At the same time, they understood the unspoken accusation in the leader's voice.

If no outsiders had stolen the bounty, then the only remaining possibility was an inside job—a betrayal from within.

This suspicion had crossed their minds earlier, but they had suppressed it, loath to admit such a grim reality.

It wasn't a matter of mutual trust; it was simply that a traitor in their midst was the worst-case scenario.

Suddenly, the man who had been complaining about the noise spoke up again: "It’s the bugs. The insects did this, and they’re still surrounding us right now."

The other mercenaries turned to look at him with expressions of pity and confusion.

They stared as if they were concerned he had finally lost his mind after spending too much time in the wilderness.

Sensing their judgment, the mercenary snapped, "No, it’s the only thing that adds up! We’ve never seen this many insect trails here before. Don't you find it suspicious that they suddenly appeared?"

"Forget about the bugs. Shouldn't you be focusing on our next move?" the leader interrupted, using his commanding presence to silence the debate.

Following his lead, the mercenaries turned away from the man babbling about insects and began eyeing one another with suspicion.

They understood exactly what the leader was implying.

Before they could even think about returning, the issue of the traitor had to be settled.

If they left now, there was no guarantee they would identify the culprit before they vanished. Once they reached civilization, whoever betrayed the group would be able to slip away easily.

This isolated Death Valley was the only place where the traitor had nowhere to run, making it the perfect spot to catch them.

It was clear the leader had no intention of letting anyone leave until the traitor was exposed.

The irony was that none of them had actually committed a betrayal.

The real problem was that the mercenary obsessed with the bugs had been right the entire time.

Fortunately, the internal tension didn't have to last much longer.

"What is that noise?"

When one mercenary finally asked the question, the others quickly joined in, as the sound had become audible to everyone.

"Is that... the sound of insects?" the leader asked, his voice shaking with confusion just before a literal tide of bugs erupted toward them.