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

"Can you hear that?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Quit fooling around and stay focused; we have a massive workload ahead of us."

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

Despite the mockery, the man who had asked the question couldn't shake a look of profound unease as he scanned their surroundings.

Strange noises seemed to be emanating from every direction. Even though the rest of the group remained oblivious, the sounds were crystal clear to him, and they were beginning to grate on his nerves.

Though the noise was faint, it sounded like the constant movement of something encircling them.

Based on the sheer volume of what he heard, it truly felt as if they had been completely hemmed in.

Try as he might to dismiss the sensation, it was impossible to ignore the fact that they were surrounded by these sounds.

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

Eventually, he couldn't stop himself from blurted out, "We really ought to get out of this place..."

Their group leader was clearly displeased by the suggestion, yet he refrained from taking action since the speaker was one of the original founding members of their band.

Because of his status, no one had moved against him despite his constant grumbling throughout the journey.

As a founder, he commanded a certain level of respect among the mercenaries.

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

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

With no other choice, the uneasy mercenary was forced to concede.

However, this was merely the beginning of their troubles.

"Where is the target?"

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

Judging by the evidence, there was only one logical reason for the target's absence.

Considering they had explicitly marked this area as their own territory, the theft was nothing short of a declaration of war.

"Track them down," the leader commanded in a frigid tone, and the mercenaries moved instantly to obey.

When their greed was provoked and their interests stolen, they had no intention of letting the culprits escape.

Yet, as they searched the area, they were met with a baffling sight. Rather than finding the human footprints they expected, there were no tracks to be found at all.

The only visible signs were the trails left by insects, but they dismissed this as irrelevant. Even if the bug activity seemed unusually high, they didn't believe mere insects could be responsible for their loss.

"Is this truly the best you can do?" the leader asked, his voice growing even colder.

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

Simultaneously, they understood the unspoken accusation behind the leader's words.

If an outside party hadn't snatched their bounty, then the only remaining explanation was an inside job—a betrayal.

This suspicion had already crossed their minds, but they had suppressed it, unwilling to face such a grim reality.

It wasn't that they possessed unwavering trust in one another; it was simply that a traitor in their midst was the worst possible scenario.

Suddenly, the mercenary who had been complaining about the noise spoke up again: "It’s the bugs. They are the ones who took it, and they are still surrounding us right now."

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

They stared at him as if he had finally lost his mind from the stress of the environment.

Noticing their judgmental gazes, the mercenary doubled down. "No, it's the only thing that makes sense! We've never seen this many bug tracks here before. Don't you find it suspicious that they suddenly appeared?"

"Forget about the insects; start thinking about our next move," the leader interrupted, using his presence to silence the man.

At his word, the mercenaries turned away from the man obsessed with bugs and began eyeing each other with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

They knew 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, the turncoat might vanish before they could uncover the truth. Once they were back in civilization, the betrayers would easily slip away.

Only here in the depths of Death Valley, where there was nowhere to run, could they hope to corner the guilty party.

It was clear the leader wouldn't permit anyone to leave until the traitor was identified.

The irony was that none of them were actually traitors.

The true problem was that the man talking about the bugs had been right from the very start.

Fortunately, the internal tension didn't have much time to escalate.

"What is that noise?"

As soon as one mercenary asked the question, the others fell silent because now, the sound was audible to everyone.

"Is that... the buzzing of insects?" the leader asked, his voice filled with confusion just moments before a literal tide of bugs surged toward them, leaving them in a state of absolute shock.