MDOF | Chapter 1.6

Tiny, soft feet stepped into the realm of shadows. The air of the earth, rippling with chilly yin energy, was damp to an extreme. Yeon inhaled deeply, making his fluffy chest puff up.

His paws, covered in dense white fur, passed by the massive, gnarled roots of a tree that had drawn circles with the flow of time, transforming into human feet devoid of color and retracing the ground.

The silence of the mountain was more hushed than usual, watching his entrance. The moment he stepped into the realm of shadows, everything within the domain that breathed became prey.

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“Will there be anything useful…?”

Yeon extended a hand hidden beneath his dark green robe, swirling the air with it. As golden threads spread from his sharp fingertips between the trees, the space around him became so silent it seemed like a vacuum in space, where all sounds disappeared.

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Satisfied with even the slightest movement of leaves ceasing, his bushy tail wagged gently.

Having woven his divine power into a net-like structure to cover the surroundings, all he had to do was wait for something big, other than minnows, to get caught. How much had those impudent creatures grown while he was asleep? Not enough for a main dish, but hopefully enough to fill a hungry stomach.

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Like a lion spotting prey, Yeon moved his slow steps and stopped, confronted by an old tree that seemed somehow exhausted.

Shinmok. The tree of gods. The ancient pillar responsible for balancing the underworld.

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This enormous trunk had supported the earth of this world and the sky of the other since before Yeon’s existence. Its sprawling branches marked the history of a generation, its grown leaves, the life of a being.

From the lives of those swaying easily in the slightest breeze to the branches bearing the history that swayed in fierce winds, the trunk of the divine tree stood unshaken, steadfast. Had this trunk ever wavered?

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And it was where the white fox Yeon had been sealed for over 500 years.

The long sleep had left him powerless. Before he slept, he had quite the rampage… Perhaps because he slept so long, even waking up took a while.

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The rope tightly wrapped around the divine tree was old, and the talismans stuck there to somehow block his power fluttered weakly.

Though it must have been a tough life trying to keep me bound, I can’t just leave it like this; it doesn’t suit my temperament. If I were to stick my claws into the center of that old tree, would it endure as usual? Or would it shudder and shake its branches?

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If the branches shake, human lives would be like a boat capsized by a storm, and the world would fall into chaos through the cracks in the underworld.

As he approached with wide strides, the energy of the divine tree brushed against his skin, making him tingle. Three steps away from the tree, Yeon stopped as if his feet were buried in the soft earth, baring his fangs fiercely.

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‘Big talk, but as expected, it’s hard to get close without the jewel.’

The jewel. Commonly referred to by some as the fox bead. It’s the source of power that decides whether one becomes just a snake monster or ascends to a dragon, like the Yeouiju of an Imoogi. Its absence rendered Yeon, once the terror of the underworld, as powerless as an Imoogi submerged in cold water.

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Of course, the Imoogi was far superior to a mere snake monster, but the path from snake to Imoogi versus Imoogi to dragon is different. With this thought, the light in his eyes dimmed.

The golden rope wrapped around the divine tree had lost its strength. Even the talismans written with someone’s desperate blood were now just scraps of paper weathered by time. But where was the jewel? How should he tear apart the one who dared to steal his jewel?

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He would tear off those pitiful limbs struggling in vain, slice open the belly swollen with greed. Then, wetting his tongue with the gushing blood, he would rip out the still-beating heart and shove it down the screaming black throat. Since they did not know their place and coveted my glory, using that power as if it were their own, wouldn’t a fair ending be to know one’s limits at the very end?

Imagining the sight stained with blood and the screams crushed by fear slightly improved his mood, and Yeon’s fangs disappeared under his red lips.

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“Hmm.”

At that opportune moment, the golden threads extending from his fingertips vibrated and were pulled taut as if about to snap, like a fishing line catching a huge fish.

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“Shall we fill our stomachs first?”

As his humming pierced through the darkness, lifting the heavy veil, the rope that had endured for many long years broke off limply and fell to the ground.

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***

No matter how much he searched, Yeon was nowhere to be found. Not under the bed, not in the cushions, nor beside the potted plant by the sunlit window where he loved to bask. He even checked if Yeon might have gotten stuck between the mattress and the wall, but all he found were a few white hairs.

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“Where did you go…”

Could he have gone back home? Sure, that could be. But couldn’t he have left a single word? I bought him ice chocolate every day because I thought he liked it.

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Maybe he just went out for a bit. That thin thread of hope snapped weakly as the sun set twice. He’s not coming back, he’s gone for good.

On the morning of the third day since Yeon disappeared, Seonwoo opened his eyes to an empty house and hung his head low. A sense of betrayal filled the emptiness in his heart along with a void. He had thought there would be nothing left in this heart, but the absence of the warmth he had grown accustomed to, even briefly, now covered Seonwoo’s consciousness like blood flowing through every corner of his body.

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This is why… this is why I’d regret letting him into the house so willingly. I was sure I had no attachments left in my remaining life.

His throat, dry as if it hadn’t swallowed moisture for ages while he gulped down dry saliva, felt rough. As Seonwoo forced down the prickle in his throat while removing the hairs left on the bed, his arm tensed, making the sound of the hairbrush louder.

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“No more hair will fall out now.”

No, it doesn’t matter… so what if some hair falls out? How much longer will I even be here in this house? How much time do I have left to wear these clothes, to cover myself with this blanket?

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If I knew this was how it would end, I would’ve said something beforehand. I have no attachments, so take the rest of my life, I would’ve said. Since you saved me, I would give you the ownership of my life. Is that an arrogant thought? It’s something he could’ve easily taken if he wanted to.

Perhaps my life wasn’t worth enough for him to want. What merit could there be in a life he himself couldn’t find value in?

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After finishing the cleaning, he habitually slipped into his slippers. Overwhelmed by the sinking feeling, he desperately craved something sweet.

—

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“Shall I give you two drinks today as well?”

Does this part-time worker ever have a day off? Seonwoo looked at her with a vacant stare, and she lightly tapped the POS machine with her stiff fingers.

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“No, just one please.”

“Okay. I’ll help you with the payment. Seems like you’re not meeting your friend today?”

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“…No.”

With his feeble response, the part-timer stopped her chatter and awkwardly began making the drink. Seonwoo blankly stared at the mirrors covering the walls inside the store.

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To make the small shop appear larger, mirrors were attached from waist height to the ceiling. The low-quality mirrors reflected his figure blurrily. The dirty reflection seemed like he was looking at himself, and he laughed.

His neatly arranged hair had grown quite long during the break, covering his neck. His smooth, blemish-free skin framed a delicate face. His straight nose and bloodless lips drooped as if he were melancholic. Even as his faint brown eyes scanned the mirror, his vision was as unclear as if looking through a smudged glass, making him feel stifled.

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He was always blurry, no matter where he was. Even amidst a huge crowd, or in a small group, let alone when he was alone, he felt like letters written with a pen out of ink, forced onto paper.

In the end, his life was like the last letter and the period of a sentence, leaving only the mark of being pressed down with force.

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He wished he could be a protruding nail, one that might receive another hammer strike. He had never slacked off in his studies or delayed any given tasks.

Living like climbing a long staircase steadily, no matter how much he rummaged through his memories, he had never once been noticed. He had even hoped to fall at some point because someone’s fall would be an event worth turning back for those climbing the stairs.

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What was his first memory? The sound of clattering, the cold, smooth sensation, and a dark vision.

He remembered crying his heart out looking for a mother who didn’t exist in that darkness. Even when the world brightened, he soon understood that the world was devoid of black and white, just shades of gray, long before his mind matured.

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Even as a child, he knew. There’s no one here who understands me.

The jangling sound of bells, the lingering scent that wouldn’t disappear even after washing, and the cold gazes that came with them disappeared as soon as he stepped out of that large wall, but he never thought he’d miss those cold stares.

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“Am I crazy…”

“Pardon?”

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“Ah, no, nothing.”

“Your drink is ready. Enjoy!”

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“Thank you…”

Even at his barely audible mumbling, the part-timer gave him a cheerful smile. Leaving behind that kind smile, Seonwoo’s grip tightened.

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No matter what, he shouldn’t miss those gazes. Is he really going insane because of low blood sugar? How far can loneliness drive a person mad? Let’s not delay anymore. After drinking this, I’ll eat properly and find a quiet place… Do I need to find one? Is there any meaning in struggling not to cause trouble for others until the end? His wandering thoughts landed on the wardrobe. In the corner of the wardrobe, there’s still a rope in the bag.

The wind blowing through the slightly cooled heat made the weather perfect. Perhaps today would be appropriate.

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Now, there’s nothing left. Even the lush tail that made him hesitate was gone. As he caught sight of the end of the officetel, Seonwoo bit into the soft flesh inside his mouth.

Ignoring the drops of water running down his fingers, he pulled the straw from the ice chocolate he was holding towards himself when another breeze blew.

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This time, carried by the somewhat cool wind was the familiar scent of greenery, making him stop in his tracks.

“Are you eating alone? Where’s mine?”

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The voice, lazy with the drawl of sleep, the beautifully curved pink eyes, and red lips.

There stood Yeon, completely out of place among the haphazardly planted street trees.

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