Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang

When you light a lantern deep in the mountains in the middle of the night, insects will flock to it.

To prevent them from being burned by the hot lamp, people usually cover the outside with white cloth or mosquito netting. This method of attracting and collecting insects is called lantern trapping.

And in my past life, this was something I, the Spicy Fabre, used to do once a month during the season—inviting viewers to join me for it.

It let me endlessly collect adorable venomous creatures like moths, which I loved, and I could also catch fan favorites like stag beetles and rhinoceros beetles.

‘Being here like this really brings back memories.’

Standing here with a bright lamp lit in the dead of night—it reminded me of those days.

Back then, hundreds of people would apply every season to take part in this content.

As the weather warmed up and the insects became more active, I would gather viewers for a live field-streaming event centered around insect collecting.

「 [This weekend: Fabre’s Special Live Broadcast — The First Lantern Trapping of the Year]

“Alright, the season’s finally here again this weekend! That means it’s time for the annual lantern trapping event you’ve all been waiting a whole year for.”

- FatTurtle: Oh damn, is it already that time again? I’ve been waiting.

- PufferBro: TO THE FORUMS!

- ScorpionsAreCute: First lantern trap of the year? Count me in.

The chat went wild the moment I announced the start of the lantern trapping stream.

Applications flooded in instantly, practically blowing up the bulletin board.

Who could possibly resist the first lantern trap of the year?

My viewers shared the same tastes as me, so of course the applications came pouring in.

“And I have good news! What is it, you ask?

Last year we only brought five people each time, and some of you said that was too few. But starting this year, one of our viewers with a van offered to drive—so I’ll be bringing ten of you along!

That’s double last year’s spots!

Of course, I’ll be covering gas.”

For safety reasons, I’d only ever brought along five viewers before.

But last year, some of the regulars I’d gotten to know through this content offered to help out in various ways.

So this year, when I announced we were doubling the participant count, the chat exploded with cheers.

Some people even admitted they only watched my streams to get a chance at joining the lantern trap events.

- RolyPolyKong: I believed in you, Spicy Fabre, you beautiful bastard.

- ScorpionsAreCute: Double the success rate compared to last year? Absolute win.

- PufferBro: This year we’re catching everything!

Then, just as the hype reached its peak—a donation popped up in chat.

○ BlueLizard has donated ₩10,000 ○

[BlueLizard: Hey, you guys need to stop. What’s ahead is hell. You seriously don’t know why last year’s participants never applied again? You’ll regret it.]

- RolyPolyKong: ...What the heck?

- JewelBeetle: Corruption scandal?

- RedMaple: Fabre you bastard, EXPLAIN!

Everyone started spamming “hook em” emojis in chat.

But the reason last year’s participants didn’t apply again was because I asked them not to—so more people could get a chance.

“Thank you for the ten thousand won, Brother Blue Lizard! But didn’t you say you had a blast last year? What’s with the sudden change of heart?

And since when do we need explanations for everything? What is this, an apology press conference era?”

Blue Lizard was a viewer who raised rare spiders and stayed in touch with me even after last year’s lantern trap event. That’s why this was so weird.

He’d clearly said he had fun before.

But it didn’t seem malicious.

It looked more like he was trolling—and naturally, the speculation in chat only got worse.

- PoisonousBoa: Wait... did Fabre charge extra under the table or something?

- ScorpionsAreCute: Nah, Fabre’s not that kind of guy. He makes more than a corporate salary just from selling his own homebred bugs. This has to be about a girl. I don’t have proof, but I know.

- Hoverdragonfly: A girl? Don’t tell me the unusually high number of female applicants last year wasn’t a coincidence? You said it was random. That was a lie?

- PufferBro: Let’s cut him some slack. Dude’s at the age where his stick wants what it wants.

○ PufferBro has been banned ○

“Yeah, no. Banned for that garbage.”

Seriously? A girl problem? This Fabre has been a pure man all his life. That was a low blow.

- RolyPolyKong: LOL immediate takedown.

- PoisonousBoa: Bunga bunga lmao

- BlackCentipede: He was a good bunga—no, a good joke. RIP.

Right then, another donation popped up.

○ BlueLizard has donated ₩10,000 ○

[BlueLizard: I mean, it was fun! But it’s not something I ever want to see again!]

“What do you mean?”

He was talking like he’d seen something traumatic. My curiosity spiked.

Another donation followed.

○ BlueLizard has donated ₩10,000 ○

[Once you start the lantern trap event, you’ll encounter... a certain degenerate.

A guy drooling while holding a moth in his hand, mumbling how cute it is and rubbing it against his cheek...

You’ll feel chills watching it. And those poor moths—what the hell is he doing with them at home?]

“I mean—they were just cute, okay!? And I let them go, didn’t I!?”

It was true. I had done that.

When I admitted to it, chat went dead silent. Only emoji beans rolled across the screen.

- PoisonousBoa: ............

- ScorpionsAreCute: ............

Then came the next wave of comments.

- Hoverdragonfly: All male applicants need to back out. This guy needs therapy.

- RolyPolyKong: Yeah, this time let the women go. He’s seriously not okay. He needs to learn mammals can be cute too. Let’s push him toward that.

- JewelBeetle: This time, only female viewers should participate. Ugh... we need someone who can handle him. You may need to cosplay as a bug or reptile!

Snapping back from the flashback, I focused on the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly approaching through the night sky.

Its flight became increasingly erratic as it drew closer to the flame.

It had flipped over—now flying upside down.

‘Dizzy, aren’t you?’

A smile tugged at my lips as I watched its movements.

It was clear now—this creature couldn’t escape the instincts shared by all flying insects.

People often assume that bugs love light just because they fly toward it, but that’s a misconception.

It used to be believed that insects were naturally drawn to light, but years of biological research have shown the real reason they flock to it is because of disorientation.

They’re not attracted to light—they’re confused by it.

So then why do insects get disoriented by light?

To explain that, we have to talk about aircraft.

Planes have a variety of instruments on their dashboards. One of them is a round gauge with a blue top half and a brown bottom half. Anyone who enjoys flight simulators has probably seen it—it’s called an Attitude Indicator.

This gauge shows the aircraft’s current orientation and pitch. It tells the pilot which direction the plane is tilting in when the horizon isn’t visible.

It’s one of the most essential instruments in flight. And it exists for one very specific reason—pilot vertigo.

In aviation, this kind of illusion is called “vertigo,” or spatial disorientation in human terms.

Humans evolved to move in two dimensions—across the ground.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

But flying involves movement in three dimensions—something we’ve never naturally done before.

Unlike movement on the ground, where we always have a reference point like the horizon, the sky has no fixed frame of reference.

Without a definite “up” or “down,” our bodies can’t accurately process what’s happening—and we’re easily tricked.

One of the most common illusions is the loss of a sense of speed.

When you fly high enough, the ground disappears and you’re surrounded by an endless blue sky. With nothing moving past you, you start to lose all sensation of motion.

But even more dangerous is when pilots lose their sense of “up” and “down”—known as the graveyard spiral or somatogravic illusion.

Pilots might not even realize they’re descending or ascending. In the worst cases, the plane might even be upside down, and they wouldn’t know.

There’s a well-known story from World War II where pilots, flying missions at night, mistook ship lights on the ocean for stars—and dove straight into the sea.

This kind of illusion is caused by confusion in the inner ear, which controls balance.

And flying insects are just as vulnerable to that kind of confusion.

On bright moonlit nights, you can sometimes see bugs crash into lakes or ponds. It’s the same principle—spatial disorientation during flight.

So how do insects avoid crashing all the time if they don’t have attitude indicators?

How do they tell the difference between sky and ground?

Insects possess a special ability called Dorsal Light Response—a reflex that causes them to turn their backs toward the brightest light source in their field of view.

It might not sound like much, but before humans began flooding the world with artificial light, it was a brilliant evolutionary trait.

By turning their backs to the light of the moon and stars in the sky, they naturally maintained proper orientation. They could tell where the horizon was—even without a gauge.

That was how they used the light to determine sky from ground and navigate °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° through the night sky.

And this is why they get confused around artificial light sources.

Their Dorsal Light Response compels them to turn their backs to the brightest light in their field of vision. But what happens when a small but intense light source—like a lantern—suddenly appears close by?

They instinctively try to orient themselves to that light, which causes them to flip upside down and start flying in endless circles around it. Eventually, they spiral downward... and crash.

Just like that.

—THUMP!

‘Oof...’

The Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly had just passed over the lantern I lit—and then suddenly veered downward, crashing headfirst into the roof of a house with a loud thump.

A puff of shimmering red scales burst into the air like rainbow mist, then gradually faded.

Its body was too light to be hurt.

Still, the sight of it crashing made me flinch. I rose onto my toes and peered at the roof.

A moment later, I spotted it fluttering its wings atop the house. It raised its head, twitching its antennae in clear confusion.

—Chii!

A startled little hiss escaped it.

It must’ve been its first time crashing into the ground. The poor thing looked completely shaken.

Back when the village lit lanterns a month ago, they’d only left them burning for about an hour—so it must not have crashed then.

It probably thought it was flying just fine—only for the ground to leap up and smack it. Of course it was flustered.

Still, what really had my attention was that sound it made.

The fact that it made a sound made my heart skip a beat.

‘Ooooh! A butterfly that can make noise!?’

Normally, butterflies don’t make sounds. But the larvae and pupae of species like the Chinese Windmill or the Great Mormon do produce noises—like soft hissing or even tiny growls—when threatened.

They make sounds similar to little puppies or sharp exhalations of air.

It seemed this butterfly had inherited some of those traits.

‘The more I look at it, the more fascinating it is.’

Just as I was marveling at its charm again, it gave its head a shake and took flight once more.

But this was no escape—it was just fluttering inside the Buddha’s palm.

‘You could say the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly is now within the palm of So-ryong’s hand.’

It flapped its wings and rose into the air again, but now it had become locked into the lantern trap I’d strung between the bamboo poles.

It began to circle endlessly around the glowing blue flame.

—Flap. Flap.

The creature’s crimson wings stirred the air, scattering a fine red powder that fell like snowflakes.

Its flight painted a faint, crimson halo in the air around the blue lantern light.

‘Once you’re all tired out... let’s have a little chat.’

I decided to wait until it collapsed from exhaustion—then I’d try talking to it.