MDOF | Chapter 3.2

A golden thread shot from the air, wrapping around the crow’s neck and pulling him down. As he fell to the ground, rubbing his back and moaning, Yeon approached calmly. This time, blue fox fire was burning in his hand.

“Ha-ha, you’re not going to throw that, are you?”

“It would be better to singe you before plucking all your feathers.”

“Pluck all my feathers when that’s all I have left? Is it because you’re from the Frozen Hell? How can you be so cold?”

“If you don’t like it, then tell me. What you know.”

The words were spat out coldly, like a growl. If he crossed the line just a bit more, Yeon was ready to go through the trouble of plucking all his feathers.

“Ah, you really don’t know?”

Despite the whining, the crow’s pitch-black eyes, almost indistinguishable from his pupils, looked at Yeon with a relaxed smile.

“These talismans are like keys to the box hiding your bead. You need to remove them all to unlock it.”

Mimicking the sound of a lock opening with his tongue, the crow had already freed himself from the golden thread, shaking out his clothes.

“Of course, finding the bead’s whereabouts is another matter. But getting the key first wouldn’t hurt, right?”

“How do you know that?”

“Hmm… I accidentally saw it on the day you were sealed. Not on purpose. I was taking a nap nearby.”

—

It was an event from 500 years ago, but the memory of that day remained vividly. The white fox, who was as arrogant as could be, had given up everything and was dragged away without resistance. The ears attached to the white hair that had lost its luster fluttered weakly. Even the tail, which would make anyone fall if it swayed lusciously, hung down as if it had been plucked out.

A crow, who was watching with the intent to join in if the resistance seemed fun, lost interest the moment it saw the deep abyss in those eyes. The gaze under the lowered white eyelashes was crushed and in disarray. A beautiful white fox should be haughty and arrogant to be beautiful; the sight of it with its tail down was far from my taste.

The Four Guardian Gods, full of vigor, tied the fox to the divine tree with a rope and plastered it with talismans. The sound of incense burning and bells ringing spread loudly through the underworld. The prayer continued day and night for three days. Even when the crow, woken from a nap, checked to see if anything had changed, the fox was still bound quietly. Its vacant gaze only stared at the firmly bound wrists, with no will to escape evident in the deeply sunken eyes.

‘How boring. For something that turned the mortal world upside down, all its fangs have been pulled out.’

The crow thought so. It was curious who had managed to pull out the fangs of such a formidable white fox.

It was regrettable that the rumor of the white fox massacring a village in the mortal world was heard only after being confined in the embrace of Yama.

Should have gone down earlier, then I would have seen something interesting, but this is just-.

On the third day, when a human, exhausted from praying, poured blood of unknown origin on the fox’s head, the fox raised its head for the first time, its eyes turning red. Whether it was due to the drops of blood falling down the transparent white hair or due to belated anger, it was unclear, but thus the fox fell asleep.

Leaving behind only a small white fox, like a vain shadow. The main body, tied to the divine tree, with its white fur scattered, disappeared into the dark forest.

—

“You sure slept for a long time.”

Yeon, wondering if he remembered those times, extinguished the fox fire with a sneer. The unpleasant memory further sank his mood.

Turning his body slightly, Yeon released the golden thread from his fingertips again. He wanted to finish the hunt quickly and return. Return where? To the mortal world? But he was a divine beast of the underworld. His hesitant hand made the golden thread ripple slightly. His heart felt like it was being engulfed by slow-moving waves. Watching him, the crow tapped the quivering golden thread with its fingertips and asked,

“Going hunting? Why bother untangling the net, just go over there. There’s an Imugi turned Steel.”

“Fancy taste you have.”

After lurking in the abyss for hundreds of years, failing to become a dragon and becoming tainted by malice, the Imugi turns into Steel. Yeon retorted for no particular reason and headed in the direction the crow had indicated.

“Besides, it’s just before summer ends, wouldn’t it be good to set an example as a divine beast? If the white fox eats the Steel, this autumn will be peaceful.”

Steel is the yokai that brings typhoons in the autumn before the harvest. Steel, unable to become a dragon, expresses its frustration noisily, turning the earth upside down every autumn. The crow, who had encouraged eating the yokai, narrowed its eyes.

“If you care so much for humans, why aren’t you eating it?”

“I have no reason to be hungry. I’m just giving it up. Oh my, it’s going to rain heavily.”

When Steel goes on a rampage with its rain, wind, and hail, the weather in the mortal world becomes capricious. It was indeed time for a cool rain. It had been too hot until now. Bringing rain at the right time is also a consideration of a divine beast for the mortal world, huh. The crow, with its hands tucked into its pockets, followed Yeon with a lazy stride.

***

“Have you been well?”

While bowing deeply, Seonwoo suppressed a sneer. What era was this, yet this place was still stuck in the past.

Tap, tap, the sound of tapping on the glossy, red-lacquered desk clearly expressed the displeasure of the person receiving the bow.

“You’ve come quickly.”

“…”

Under the neatly slicked-back hair with oil, sharp blue eyes scanned Seonwoo. His hands, neatly placed on his knees as he sat, clenched slightly. The head of the family, seeing no further need to scold, brought up the main issue.

“How’s your health?”

Seonwoo forcibly lowered his stiff neck.

He couldn’t say that his limbs had fallen off and grown back, or that he had passed out from a nosebleed this week, so he slowly nodded his head.

“I’m… fine. Same as always.”

“Next week is the start of the school term, right?”

“Yes.”

After the routine question, the real matter at hand was revealed. Seonwoo tried not to blink as he met the head’s gaze. What could this be about? His body, tensed with anxiety, refused to relax.

“Doyong will transfer to the school you attend. He’ll move before the new semester starts, so keep that in mind.”

“…What?”

His effort crumbled at the shocking news like a bolt from the blue. Why would Shin Doyong, the eldest grandson of the main family, transfer to the school Seonwoo attended?

“Wh-why would my brother… for what reason…”

The head’s brows furrowed, not allowing questions.

Shin Doyong, raised as the only child for four generations, was arrogant. He didn’t openly cause trouble but had a cunning knack for controlling those around him, making him a somewhat promising successor. Now, he was transferring to the school where Shin Seonwoo studied. Even when the head tried to dissuade him during the long summer break when he seemed bored, Doyong wouldn’t budge from his decision to start the new term at Seonwoo’s school. He promptly arranged his accommodations and completed the transfer procedures. The head, unable to fathom Doyong’s intentions, groaned and rubbed his temple.

At the sound of his groan, Seonwoo held his breath. He tried to move his tongue, which felt dry, but the long-trained sense of powerlessness slowed all his actions.

The head’s gaze, like that of a beast, remained the same even as his hair turned grey. The fear of being consumed if he averted his eyes only tightened his throat.

“Ah… no, nothing’s wrong, head of the family…?”

“Tsk.”

Ignoring the clear sound of disapproval, Seonwoo forced a smile. He wasn’t allowed to show either tears or frowns. With his lips trembling slightly, he asked the question he didn’t want to.

“Is Madam Yoo away?”

“…Yes. She’ll be back tomorrow, so see her then.”

Just asking about the family elder’s well-being dragged his body down to the floor, his shoulders tensing painfully. That was the last thing he wanted. While the head was scary, his wife, Madam Yoo, was even harder to face.

The Shin family, to put it nicely, was a lineage of hereditary shamans; in modern terms, a family of hereditary mediums.

Though one might scoff at the idea of shamans in this day and age, the scale of the Shin family was not to be underestimated. Even now, clients came and went, but how the family amassed its wealth was a mystery. Nowadays, they mainly performed rites and prayers, though Seonwoo had no clue what these prayers were for. He merely thought, ‘They must be praying when I hear the bells,’ and tried not to look towards the main house.

The head had no spiritual abilities or insight, so he could be dealt with just as a fearsome elder of the household.

On the other hand, Madam Yoo seemed to have genuine psychic powers. Sometimes, meeting her icy gaze made Seonwoo think she wasn’t human.

She was the one who actually received the clients. No one knew exactly what she could see, but judging by how busy she was among the family elders, she seemed to be the most capable.

Madam Yoo would occasionally scrutinize Seonwoo with a look that seemed to evaluate an object, leaving him feeling as if parts of him froze, making him shiver with anxiety afterwards.

After his lips trembled a few times, Seonwoo reluctantly said, “Yes,” and the head waved his hand to dismiss him.

Seonwoo, stepping out and closing the well-polished paper door silently, let out a deep sigh while looking up at the sky. The sky, looking like it might rain any moment, had ash-grey clouds moving swiftly.

He slipped on his shoes haphazardly and left the main house for the servants’ quarters. He planned to stay as quiet as a mouse, only to pay his respects to Madam Yoo and then leave. It would be a long night, but at least he had somewhere to return to.

He wished Yeon would come back soon. If only time in the underworld flowed a bit faster, he wouldn’t have to wait three days like before. This time, the thought of returning to an empty house was unbearably lonely.

As Seonwoo crossed the silent servants’ quarters, thunder rumbled shortly overhead.

It seemed like rain was imminent. Maybe it was for the best; at least he wouldn’t have to move on a rainy day. If he didn’t think that way, the oppressive feeling in his heart, like being weighed down by lead, would overwhelm him.

“It’s been a while.”

A voice, not hiding its contempt, suddenly hit Seonwoo’s ears, making his stomach clench. With difficulty, he turned his stiff body to see a man of his age smirking with his lips twisted.

“Ill-bred.”

Pronouncing each word with deliberate force, the man gave a mocking smile and whispered kindly.