Who Would Do Such a Crazy Thing?

Who would do such a crazy thing? Sophia let out a chuckle as she gazed at the picture Gyeowol had drawn. ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Even after saying she hated water, the girl had drawn her swimming in a pond. Maybe the image of a shark was just too strong for a child. Sophia pressed the tip of her own fang with her finger. She'd always hated how sharp and pointed they were—how violent they seemed. But in the child's eyes, were they cool? In the drawing, she was proudly baring her teeth.

What a child... Gyeowol was someone she'd met only because of the Beast God's Blessing. In a way, it was a business-like encounter.

The more I look at her, the more endearing she becomes. She'd heard the girl had endured abuse that would horrify even the roughest beastkin. Yet she didn't blindly fear humans or avoid them entirely. Her efforts to approach them little by little, despite the hardship, made her seem like some valiant adventurer.

...You're better than me. Something about people mattering more than material things. Even after being hurt so badly by them. In the face of storms that tore at her flesh, the girl's unyielding spirit inspired real respect. She was impossible not to love. Sophia decided to admit it. She and Gyeowol were no longer just in a business relationship. Maybe she'd even become the family the girl vowed never to make for the rest of her life.

"Gyeowol."

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"I want to try this, but I don't know how."

Gyeowol held out a long rectangular device. Sophia knew it was the tool for turning on the television.

Remote control, was it? She knew what it was, but not how to use it. She'd never wasted time on something as foolish as the idiot box. And Gyeowol was just as clueless. The remote from her previous life was worlds apart.

"Just press anything for now."

"O-okay..."

Poke, poke. Gyeowol pressed the buttons one by one. Try this one, try that one. The two of them huddled over the little machine, completely absorbed. That's when a buzzing sound rang out, and Gyeowol's ears perked up.

"It's on!"

"You did it."

Gyeowol and Sophia turned their eyes to the television screen. It was a massive screen, like something from a theater. Newly powered on, it was tuned to a movie channel. And right at that moment, a giant monster was opening its jaws wide to devour an extra.

"Eek!"

"Gasp...!"

"Gya!"

The sudden scene made Gyeowol and Sophia jolt back. Levi Nas, who had been drawing nearby, jumped up with a hop.

The last thing I expected when turning on the screen was a monster movie. I placed a hand over my pounding heart and turned to Sophia.

"Sophia, are you okay?"

"...I'm fine."

Is she really? At her age, a big shock could be dangerous. I looked at her with worry, but aside from her slightly quickened breathing, she seemed okay.

"The monster came out of nowhere. I got startled."

Was it because of her exceptional beastkin physique? Her reaction to the scare was nothing like a normal human's.

"Human civilization is still so strange."

Haah. As Sophia sighed,

"Eekyaa!"

Levi Nas screamed and bolted toward the kitchen. I wondered if I should go comfort her, but Han Yeoreum was in the kitchen. I decided to trust her.

"Huh? What happened?"

"Th-there's a monster in the house...!"

"A monster?"

Maybe because I was focusing my hearing. I could hear the whole conversation from the distant kitchen.

Levi Nas ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠must be seeing a TV for the first time too. Come to think of it, when movies were first made, people were so shocked they fled the theaters. Seeing a ferocious monster in far clearer quality than that, of course she'd run away scared.

"The monster ate a person! Now it's gonna eat the king! It's dangerous!"

"N-no way...?"

Thud thud thud. Quick footsteps approached from the kitchen, and Han Yeoreum appeared. Her eyes wide, she looked at me and Sophia before turning to the TV. Inside, the giant monster was indiscriminately devouring people.

"Ah."

Han Yeoreum's mouth fell open in realization. She even let out an awkward hehe laugh.

"Gyeowol, that's just the screen. No monster's coming out to eat you."

"Y-yes..."

I knew that. But somehow I felt wronged. I glanced at Sophia, but she just shrugged.

"You got ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pretty scared, huh?"

"N-no, not that much."

"Really?"

Han Yeoreum's gaze went to my tail behind me. That's when I realized my tail fur had puffed up. I hurriedly grabbed my tail and placed it on my lap. But I knew it was too late.

I mumbled an awkward excuse.

"I was a little startled."

"Yeah. Must be your first time with a TV, right, Gyeowol?"

"Yes. And of all things, a monster had to show up."

It really was my first TV in this life. So I wasn't lying at all.

"Even this adult was startled. Kids would be more so."

"Ah..."

Kids. I felt a bit miffed, but compared to her age, I was barely more than a newborn. I decided not to complain and just accept it.

"Beastkin children often let instinct take over, so ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you always have to be careful."

"Instinct?"

"Yes. A fiercer breed might've smashed that TV before even thinking."

"The body reacts before the mind?"

"Exactly."

Sophia nodded at Han Yeoreum's question. Han Yeoreum seemed to ponder something, then chuckled softly.

"Our kids just got scared."

"They're not the fierce type."

I knew it wasn't an insult, but the exchange felt embarrassing to overhear. To change the subject, I hurriedly pointed to the kitchen.

"Um, what's going on in the kitchen?"

"Sis is making shabu-shabu."

"Shabu-shabu?"

"Yeah. Like hotpot, but you can put in whatever you want."

Did she think I didn't know what shabu-shabu was? Han Yeoreum started explaining various things. Levi Nas, who had been listening quietly, suddenly jumped up.

"Can you really put in anything?"

"Yeah. Anything you'd normally put in hotpot."

"Then Levi Nas wants to put in all sorts of stuff too!"

Levi Nas dashed out the front door. I knew she was off to gather things to put in.

"It's almost lunchtime..."

"I'll go find her."

"Yeah? Thanks."

"Sure. Be right back."

Yeomyeong Guild had a counseling room in one corner. Given the high mental stress of the job, a professional counselor was always on staff. Jeong Yu-na sat in a counseling chair, staring down at her smartphone screen. It showed the picture Gyeowol had drawn.

"Jeong Yu-na-ssi?"

"Ah, yes..."

Maybe because she was a counselor. Her demeanor was soft and gentle. Even though Yu-na wasn't there for her own issues, her mind was already easing.

"You said you came with a question?"

"Yes. The child's condition seems really bad. Could I get some advice?"

"Hmm... Is it impossible to bring the child here directly?"

"Yes. The situation's still too delicate."

"I see."

Tap tap. The counselor started jotting notes. Yu-na's eyes were drawn to the skillful hand movements.

"What I'm most curious about is what emotion led the child to draw this..."

Jeong Yu-na cautiously held out her smartphone. The counselor froze at the sight of bleeding people and crumbling cities.

"How old is the child?"

"Just eight."

"Eight... Does the child like games? Or maybe saw a brutal movie with people dying."

"Um..."

Gyeowol didn't play games. And she hadn't had the setup to watch movies. Jeong Yu-na shook her head at the counselor.

"Drawing something like this without games or movies..."

"Yes. And the child said this too."

"What did she say?"

"She said she hopes the people around her don't turn out like this..."

Jeong Yu-na tapped the twisted figures in the drawing. The counselor stroked her chin for a long while.

"If this reflects the child's psyche..."

"......"

"Fortunately, she's at a stage where she's starting to trust those around her a bit."

"Ah."

So that's it. Good. As Jeong Yu-na sighed in relief,

the counselor dropped a despairing bombshell.

"Of course, it's not a good situation."

"...It's not?"

"No. I've been counseling for about ten years, but I've never seen an eight-year-old draw something like this."

The counselor stared endlessly at the phone's image. The blood drawn without hesitation, the twisted and severed bodies—it was no eight-year-old's imagination.

"She's been through a lot of awful things."

"Awful things?"

"Yes. Living on the streets without a home, scavenging trash to eat, gutted and dying—while the adults around just mocked her."