The visitor was Lee Gyu-baek, a seven-year-old boy who had just started elementary school.
“I can now personally distinguish between a large twenty-eight-spotted ladybug and an ordinary one,” he announced, forgoing a simple hello. “This summer, I will catch a Chinese star-fat fly for study.”
As always, Gyu-baek led with a dissertation. The child found a seat, pulled out a thick book on insects, and began to read.
Two pieces of good news had arrived. First, the criteria for the initial Cheongdome Project tournament had been revealed. Second, the little insect doctor had finally returned for a visit.
Ji-woo waved at the boy before turning back to her computer. The project’s open screening involved a total of fifty companies. As fate would have it, Pine Hospital's first opponent was Verdant Tree Hospital, an institution she knew all too well.
Verdant Tree Hospital was considered a model of stability, with a solid reputation built on skill and experience. Judging by objective management metrics alone, Pine Hospital had a long, arduous road ahead before it could even be compared.
“So, what’s the first round?” Mi-sook asked, walking up behind her.
“Pruning.”
“After all the fuss they made about this competition, I was expecting something really difficult. But… pruning? Seriously? That’s a piece of cake. Should I go clean your scissors?”
“I know,” Ji-woo said. “But there’s a catch.”
“What?”
“The tree is thirty meters tall.”
Mi-sook and Ji-woo looked at each other, a heavy silence falling between them. The problem wasn’t the task, but the scale—the tree was as high as a ten-story building. It seemed the city of Sejin had been saving its most complicated cases specifically for this public contest.
Ji-woo stared intently at the photograph attached to the email. A deformed, precariously bent branch stretched out over the road below. If it broke, it would be a catastrophe, falling onto the cars and causing a terrible accident.
“Wait, what does this mean?” Mi-sook frowned, leaning closer to read the email. “No ladder-trucks allowed?”
By complicating the situation, the organizers had made their intentions clear. “It looks like we’ll have to climb it ourselves.”
The test, it seemed, was focused on the sheer physical stamina of the tree doctors. Their job was demanding, often requiring them to climb into the canopy to perform surgery. This challenge was designed to see who was dedicated—and fearless—enough to do just that.
“But even if you can climb that high, the branches might not support a person’s weight!” Mi-sook protested, and she was right. Scaling such a massive tree to prune it was going to be anything but easy. Ji-woo’s gaze drifted toward Gyu-baek, who had just gotten up and was walking toward her bedroom door.
“Wait!” Ji-woo called out. “You can’t go in there!”
She scrambled to stop him, but the child was quicker. He turned the doorknob and slipped inside her room. An abrupt silence fell. A man was lying on Ji-woo’s bed, the curtains drawn against the day. His skin was pale, and his long eyelashes lay still against his cheeks, as though frozen in time.
“I’ve never seen an insect like this before,” Gyu-baek mumbled, his eyes wide with discovery. The unexpected sight made his expression light up. He carefully pulled back the edge of the blanket covering the man.
“This male specimen consists of a head, torso, and limbs, and boasts a perfect bilateral symmetry with two arms and two legs,” Gyu-baek narrated, as if dictating an entry for an encyclopedia. It was his own peculiar way of making sense of strangers.
“It is characterized by a length that exceeds the bed, large hands and feet, and a sharp nasal bridge,” he continued, touching his own nose for comparison. “The male genitalia—”
“Stop, stop!” Ji-woo lunged forward, pulling the child out of the room and shutting the door firmly behind them. Gyu-baek looked up at her, his eyes bright with unabated curiosity.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
“No.”
“A male enters the female’s nest to spend the estrus period with her or to guard their eggs. Animal Encyclopedia, page one hundred and ninety-three.”
Ji-woo coughed and scratched the back of her neck. “I told you, it’s not like that.”
“You captured the male and stuffed him.”
“What?!”
“That male… he is a rare species.”
Confused, Ji-woo could only stare at Gyu-baek. “I like the shape of this male. He looks cool. With his strength and physique, he would be a good hunter. His teeth are hard. His legs are strong.”
The boy’s eyes twinkled with genuine excitement. Ji-woo let out a long, weary sigh. “Gyu-baek, he’s not rare. He’s dangerous.”
“Strong males are inherently dangerous.”
Not knowing how to respond, Ji-woo rubbed her forehead. But Gyu-baek’s chatter was relentless. “The male doesn’t wake. He sleeps even during the day. You only like plants. Therefore, you probably captured him using poison.”
Ji-woo just shook her head. Needing to ventilate the suddenly overheated room, she went to the living room and pulled open the curtains. A scream caught in her throat. Clinging to the window frame outside was Hwang Jo-yoon, his cheeks pressed flat against the glass as he tried to peer in. Shaking off the shock, she slid the window open.
“What in the hell are you doing here?”
“Ji-woo,” Hwang Jo-yoon said, his expression mournful. “I saw a kid go into your house.”
“So?”
Hwang Jo-yoon glanced over her shoulder. His eyes met Gyu-baek’s, who immediately began scribbling in his notebook again.
“This male, which consists of a head, belly, and legs, has a very strange shape. He does not look good,” Gyu-baek muttered, not bothering to look up.
“Gyu-baek,” Ji-woo warned.
“With two arms and two legs, he barely possesses the required assortment, but his appearance outside the window is very weird. He seems to be out of his mind.”