The Shadow Beyond the Fog
Whew. Now that's a stink.
The exclamation slipped out of me before I could stop it, my eyes sweeping over the yoho fox corpses strewn across the ground. The place was a complete bloodbath. Wearing the gas mask helped me keep my composure now, but remembering that I'd been rolling around here in the thick of it mere minutes ago was enough to give me chills.
Swipe, swipe. I split open the foxes' bellies with the tip of my blade, checking this and that as I worked. Watching me, Ye-eun spoke up carefully.
"Teacher, are you feeling all right?"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"I was told for certain that you have a trauma related to fox-type monsters..."
"Eh? No I don't."
"...?"
What on earth was this about trauma? It was a completely out-of-left-field remark. I turned without meaning to, and there was Ye-eun wearing a thoroughly bewildered expression. Honestly, what was she even talking about?
Just like this, the minds of high school girls could be rather difficult to fathom — a truth I'd learned firsthand during my time teaching at the Academy. So instead of trying to answer her right away, I turned my head and put the findings on the table instead.
"More importantly, Ye-eun. That's not the problem here."
"Ah — yes, sir..."
"These things have no leader."
"I'm sorry?"
At that, even Ye-eun couldn't hide her surprise.
Whatever else you could say about monsters, at their core they were nothing more than grotesquely overgrown beasts. Which meant that a pack this size was bound to have an alpha — even a group composed entirely of D-Rank monsters was no exception. If anything, that was exactly why the clever one would have risen to the top.
And yet, by my judgment, there was no leader's corpse anywhere on this field. The evenness of the fur, the uniform size of the bodies — one glance made that plain. Even among D-Ranks, a pack leader naturally grows larger than the rest. But every yoho carcass here was more or less the same size, no matter where I looked.
The ambush from before had made it obvious, too. The foxes had thrown themselves at us without a single commanding individual directing the charge. They'd performed admirably for a D-Rank pack, sure — but not one of them had ordered a retreat even after realizing the gap in strength. Common sense simply couldn't account for that.
"Or maybe it's the opposite."
"I'm sorry?"
"Maybe it's not that I happened to pick the right answer. Maybe every answer was the right one."
What if I hadn't been lucky enough to stumble across the monster pack? The three suspicious sites I'd flagged on the map — perhaps the monsters had taken control of this entire region.
Hearing the conclusion I'd been quietly circling, Ye-eun's eyes flooded with horror. It made sense that she would. My words amounted to saying that every gate in the Namhae region had been breached.
But if that were the case, the current situation made sense too. Despite a horde of this size, there was no leader — and despite a horde of this size, these foxes were nothing more than an advance party.
At that realization, cold sweat finally beaded on Ye-eun's forehead.
After that, Ye-eun and I chose to withdraw. It wasn't as if I had no desire to storm the fox den right then and there, but rash decisions were a mistake. If we started the hunt unprepared, the yoho might bolt instead — and who knew how much damage those escapees would cause before anyone caught them again. Weighing that, even I had no choice but to fall back. Just in case, you understand.
Besides—
'Not a sight I care to show off, that's for sure.'
If my hunch proved correct, it was definitely not something I wanted Ye-eun to see. No — it wouldn't be something to show any of them.
"Back from the field~"
"Whoa, Master! That place is no joke, seriously!"
Which was why the evaluation I got from the returned Namhae branch team didn't exactly sit well with me either. Apparently the Namhae branch had never even realized they'd been bewitched by the foxes in the first place. The handover was a problem in itself, but once Seo-ah — appalled by that fact — went digging, the absurdities piled up one after another.
"No, seriously, they denied it right up to the end? Kept saying our Su-jeong would never do that? Can you believe it?"
"Right, right. Honestly — our Su-jeong, of all people, how could they~"
According to Seo-ah's investigation, the Namhae branch had been charmed very recently — it seemed to trace back to a group mixer held among the branch's hunters. A meeting that had come together through someone's connections, pure luck. Women presented as models and flight attendants, and the Namhae branch hunters had fallen head over heels for them.
The problem was that after the charm broke, not one of them could remember who the women they'd met actually were. In the end, staring at phones with not a single call record on them, they'd had no choice but to admit they'd been taken in by yoho.
What follows are the reviews — or self-justifications — those hunters left behind.
Felt like they'd just been discharged from the military.
Well, thanks to that, reconstructing the incident was easy enough. Piecing together my own reasoning, the yoho's method of operation went something like this: charm a single ordinary staff member at the Association, and use them as bait to arrange the mixer. In that scenario, nine times out of ten the ones who showed up first would be the well-connected, deep-pocketed hunters — after all, by their own account, finding even one woman in Namhae was next to impossible. Once they'd successfully lured the hunters in, the rest was trivial. Charm the grinning fools who came along trusting the sweet setup, and it was done. After that, they simply went around charming the remaining civilian staff in the branch by force.
Easy, really. Either way, an utterly pathetic ending all around.
"Mm. Nothing special on this end, I'm afraid."
As I paged through the documents the branch had handed over, Tiamat spoke up as well. Sure enough, the on-site investigation team seemed to have come back with little of note. In fact, the account she and Yun-ha had gathered differed hardly at all from what Seo-ah had already relayed: every time the pure white fog rolled in, an island no one had ever seen appeared beyond the horizon. Try to look closer, and the fog made confirmation impossible. And yet the shadow beyond that fog was unmistakably moving. And still—
Once the fog lifted and they looked out at the sea again, there was nothing there at all.
"Geez, how boring~"
"This Tiamat thinks so as well, but alas, there is naught to be done about it."
"Hmm. Nothing unusual to report, then?"
"Let's see. Nothing save the fishermen's personal impressions — though impressions there were."
"Tell me."
"Uuuhm... now, how did it go..."
"Something about how that island, for whatever reason, seems to be drawing closer with each passing day. That sort of thing."
Beside Tiamat, who was mumbling with maddening vagueness, Yun-ha supplied the rest flatly. In a sense, a perfectly textbook tale. But hearing it, I couldn't help but lift my head slightly.
"Drawing closer, you say?"
"Uh, yep. That's what the fishermen were saying, anyway?"
"Hoh. And why did they believe that?"
"The man with the sharpest eyes among them swore by it. Said it got a little bigger every single day, or something like that."
"Hmm. Yun-ha, what do you think? Should we trust him?"
"He was channeling mana through his eyes."
"Trustworthy, then."
So it seemed one of those fishermen had awakened while out on the water. Or perhaps he'd made contact with an ocean gate. The world did produce its share of oddities, I mused — and then I stroked my chin thoughtfully.
Legends of moving islands were, in truth, a dime a dozen. Practically overflowing. Which was why I hadn't considered the moving-island legend from the start. It was simply too obvious. Granted, the gate wasn't going to bend itself to suit my tastes, but really — "we went to check because the island was moving, and it turned out to be a moving island"? Wasn't that carrying things a step too far? If that had been the whole story, the Namhae branch would have wrapped the case up ages ago. There would have been no need for Seo-ah or me to get involved at all.
Which was why I'd thought the opposite: not a moving island, but a vessel the size of one. Just like the legend of Jang Bogo, I'd assumed it must be a ship rivaling an island in scale—
'Drawing closer, though?'
No — why? That made no sense whatsoever. Obviously, even granting that it was an island-sized ship, its essence was still that of a vessel. Nothing about it could move once it came ashore. In a word, if that report were true, then whatever this moving island was, it was sailing straight toward its own death, minute by minute.
'...Or maybe it's the other way around.'
There, I made myself flip the premise. A moving island — or a ship the size of one. That was what I'd assumed. But what if it was neither?
'Not a moving island, and no ship wearing an island's size, either.'
Something as massive and powerful as an island, yet able to move like a ship. Add the yoho's abilities to that. And on top of it, a swarm of foxes of a scale no one could even guess the origin of.
The moment my thoughts reached that point, even I had a decent idea what we were dealing with.
"Ah. Of course."
"Ooh, did you figure something out, Master?"
"Ye of all people ought to brush up on your folklore, Seo-ah. You're still an active hunter, after all."
"Ei, who bothers with that stuff these days?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"That's what dedicated operators are for, you ignoramus."
"There's a job like that in this world?"
What an utter pain in the neck. Granted, considering the possibility of communications going down, I didn't think studying up on one's own was a bad idea. The real problem was that it had robbed me of a way to tease Seo-ah. Still—
'This is worse than I expected.'
Going by my deductions, the trouble brewing in this neck of the woods was considerably bigger than I'd anticipated. Either way, the sooner we resolved it, the better.
"Master, so what are we doing tomorrow? More intel gathering?"
"And if that's the plan, could you at least swap me out, Teacher? The people there keep staring at me."
Behind Seo-ah, whining without a care in the world, Ji-hee's grievances trailed after. Truly befitting a half-nightmare, apparently — she was remarkably sensitive to the way people looked at her. Though I couldn't imagine why she'd agreed to come on a seaside trip if she hated it that much.
I wouldn't say it out loud since she was a student, but the day she actually went to the beach for fun, she'd draw one hundred percent of every eye on the sand, guaranteed. It wouldn't be leering — it would be a perfectly biological reaction. Who knew — once she graduated and reached an age where "grown woman" fit properly, her simple, raw allure might surpass even Tiamat, a literal goddess. For now, though, I just nodded along. It wasn't a matter of any importance. She wanted to dress up pretty — hardly the same thing as wanting to be the object of harassment.
"Then the day after tomorrow, we'll go have some fun."
"Huh?"
"In exchange, tomorrow we work like dogs."
"Really?!"
"HYAAAAH!!"
"Wait, hold on — who even are you? That's not my Master!"
At the cheer that suddenly erupted, I sighed. I was in the middle of meting out iron-fisted discipline to Seo-ah for slandering her heaven-like Master, when the sigh just came out on its own.
...Half a year.
She'd clearly prepared with brutal dedication. But I had no intention of wasting any more time than this. Tomorrow, right away, we slay the monsters and end all of it. Because if my hunch was right, things were going to get plenty busy after that, too.
'At the very least, I'll help with the cleanup.'
Imagining a sight that probably none of them — Seo-ah included — had ever witnessed before, I pressed a hand to my temple as it began to throb.
And so, in the small hours of that night. Past midnight, just before the first light of dawn budded on the horizon, we headed for the waterfront. Dragged along by the spine of a man who had abruptly declared he'd settle the whole affair by today, the high school girl contingent yawned one long, jaw-cracking yawn after another, elegance entirely out the window. By contrast, the adult contingent looked relatively composed — yet oddly sulky about something. Taking in both groups, I clicked my tongue before I knew it.
"Tsk. Kids will be kids, but you lot need to get your heads in the game."
"Hey, it's not because we're sleepy!"
"Then what is it?"
"More like — Master, what's with this rowboat?"
"What, you expected me to pilot a motorboat?"
Demanding a motorboat license out of the blue would have been a bit much, after all. In the end, the only vessel available to us had been a plain old rowboat — something I'd scrounged up through word of mouth, trading away half a day of awkward waiting after we decided to move at dawn. Honestly, shouldn't you all be marveling at my resourcefulness for managing to secure one at all? Boats with such a bare-bones design were barely seen anymore these days.
"Wait, but you're all just casually leaving the oars to me? Seriously?"
Granted, factoring in everyone's weapons and combat styles, the current arrangement was optimal — but I hadn't expected literally no one to offer a hand. That stung a little.
"Oh, come off it. Who do you think I am? I could outrun a motorboat if I wanted."
"No thanks, it'd make me dizzy... Row slower, the boat might capsize."
"Fine, fine."
"Honestly, you people know how to wound a man."
And so, tongue clucking, I rowed away with all my strength anyway. Not that I'd chosen this ungodly hour out of boredom, of course. According to the local investigation team, the incidents tended to strike mainly at dawn — or high noon. Well, no wonder they called it a mirage. If word spread that something moved on the water after sundown, "ghost ship" would have been the first thing out of anyone's mouth, long before anyone said "moving island."
Splash. Splash.
Only the quiet rhythm of oars echoed across the water. Truthfully, with a hunter's strength I could have made the sea itself part with a roar, but that would have looked ridiculous, so I kept it steady and quiet.
And then—
As we waited, savoring the chilled air of the pre-dawn wind, a stir suddenly rippled through our little boat.
"Huh, what is that?!"
"It's really here!!"
Beneath a dawn sky where I couldn't even tell who was shouting what, the boat gave a low creak. I slapped the oar flat against the choppy surface to still it, and turned my gaze toward the heat haze shimmering in the distance.
Grooooooar—.
Along with the rolling of the sea, a shadow hung upon the impossibly far horizon. Beyond the sheet of white water-mist that had settled over everything without our noticing—
Far off, a colossal body revealed itself, so vast it blotted out the very edge of the sky.