Nightmare of the Taunting Fawn
I had a nightmare. A nightmare where that monster of a fawn circled my bed, taunting me relentlessly.
—Yeah, I smashed Hengshanpa!
—Pissed off? Tough luck!
—No one can judge me, a spirit beast!
—That's the limit of Daesong's laws!
'Fuck.'
I trembled with rage, the taunts still vivid in my mind. Never mind that a deer spoke human language fluently—the real kicker was that every word rang true, leaving me no room to argue back.
—Kki-eeeeeng!
The deer's cry echoed again, mocking me just like it had all dawn long. I was going insane. I'd heard roosters crow in the morning plenty of times, but a deer call as my wake-up service? That was a first.
'Just give me the permit, and you're done for.'
I ground my teeth, thinking of the messenger pigeon that should've reached Jwa Do-eosa by now. The problem with spirit beast capture permits was the delay in approvals up to the third-rank officials, but once it hit the desk, they usually came through easily. Plus, I'd detailed Hengshanpa's tearful plight, so Jwa Do-eosa had even less reason to ignore it.
That damn fawn would freak when it saw an official dead set on catching it, after only dealing with clueless civilians. I'd etch Daesong's justice into those antlers.
The moment I stepped into Hengshanpa's communal dining hall, I froze at the bizarre sight.
Daoists huddled in the farthest corners, while a single deer boldly claimed the center table, chowing down without a care.
'What the hell.'
I'd heard about the deer's dining hall takeover from Jeong U-rok already, but seeing it firsthand unleashed emotions words couldn't capture. Humans, the lords of creation, driven off by one beast? Unacceptable.
But if it's a spirit beast, what can you do? Natural monuments are basically untouchable thugs.
"Let's eat in the corner too."
"Yes, sir."
Jo Wi-cheo, who'd been staring at the deer in fascination, finally moved at my voice. Yeah, it'd be intriguing. Even in the vast Central Plains, spirit beasts seizing human turf was rare. Usually, it was the other way around—greedy humans victimizing spirit beasts.
'What?'
As I wandered the buffet-style spread, piling food onto my plate, a prickling at the back of my neck made me turn. The fawn was staring right at me.
What're you looking at, you law-breaking punk? First official you've seen?
'Deer eat meat?'
But watching it now, that chewing motion—if my eyes weren't lying, it was definitely meat.
Hengshanpa having meat wasn't surprising. While some Daoist cultivation methods recommended vegetarianism for purity, it was just a suggestion here, not mandatory. Plenty argued that martial artists needed meat for balance. Still, a deer eating meat? That was weird.
'How is that thing a spirit beast?'
No matter how I spun it, that fawn screamed demon beast. A herbivore defying nature by scarfing meat—explains the twisted vibe...
'Why's it coming at me?'
The deer, who'd been fixated on me, now trotted over casually. Uneasy vibes. This was the pest that tormented me all dawn; it wasn't approaching for a friendly chat.
—Kki-eeeeng!
"You little—!"
My bad premonitions never failed. The vicious fawn swung its antlers at my bowl, like it couldn't stand watching me eat.
This fucker—a deer, no less—devouring meat itself.
"L-Left Vice Censor-in-Chief, sir!"
"Get that thing off him now!"
The Daoists, who'd been silently eating, rushed over at the sight of an invited guest under "beast" attack, prying the deer away. Physical contact was fine, as long as no capture or harm.
Thanks to their quick work, I avoided an antler to the face. My bowl's contents got a bit jumbled, but it didn't turn into dog food slop, so... good enough?
I wanted to believe that.
"Are you alright, sir?"
Jo Wi-cheo, who'd stayed quiet, finally spoke up. He must've been worried I'd end up with the title "Man Hit by a Deer."
"I'm seething."
Sorry to worry you, but no, I wasn't fine. Getting bullied by a mere animal—not even a person or colleague—crushed human pride into the dirt. Pitiful. A spirit beast or not, one punch between the eyes would end it.
Even if they wanted to discipline outsiders, this was overkill.
'Why only me?'
Then it hit me—the root question. There were two outsiders: me and Jo Wi-cheo. Why target just me? Did it sniff out I was the boss and go for the head? Take me down, and Jo Wi-cheo folds too?
Please let that be it. If it knew I was weaker than Jo Wi-cheo... I'd cry.
"...When's the messenger pigeon coming back?"
"No later than three days."
I closed my eyes in despair. If luck was shit, three days of this hell.
I wept inwardly.
After eating, the sect leader invited me for tea.
"Sorry for not warning you sooner, Left Vice Censor-in-Chief."
He apologized the second he saw me. I could guess why, forcing a wry smile.
"We kept quiet to let you rest easy, but who knew it'd confront you on day one."
"Thanks for the consideration, Sect Leader. Don't worry about me."
I replied evenly. Even if he'd warned me upfront, that fawn's antics meant it wouldn't have helped. We met in my guest room anyway—the outcome was set no matter what.
"...You've worked hard all this time."
So I turned the tables, consoling him over tea. I was losing it after one day; imagine him.
He probably wanted to kill the "demon" in beast skin, but the law blocked him. Watching his disciples suffer in the meantime must've drawn blood tears.
Saying it out loud, it really sounded like a demon. Some Mongol curse they left behind?
"Heh, the kids suffered more. You've heard, but it disrupted daily life and training constantly."
I knew. Hair eaten during meditation, hit-and-runs mid-sparring. Thriving in that? Future best under heaven material.
"But relief at last. Thanks to you, we can finally deal with it. We requested capture from the Yangyang branch, but no word yet—too busy, maybe."
"Branches report up the chain too, so swift action's tough. My apologies on their behalf, Sect Leader."
"No need. I know how hard Daesong officials toil for the realm. We should thank you for coming to Hengshan."
Relief flickered in the chuckling sect leader's face—a veteran warrior, eased by one deer removal. How bad was it?
"Once it's gone, I'll properly—"
"Sect Leader! Big trouble!"
The urgent shout—clearly bad news—drooped the sect leader's eyes. The elder bursting in flinched at the sight but pressed on. Truly tragic.
"What now?"
"W-Well...!"
The weary sect leader's question made the elder bite his lip, then spit it out like blood.
"The spirit beast multiplied!"
"...What?"
"Pardon?"
We both gawked. What multiplied?
"A new one's appeared! No antlers—it's a doe this time!"
...
Whoa.
Whoa.
I wondered what was up when the guy at Hengshanpa suddenly sent a messenger pigeon. No major issues there, as far as I recalled.
But the letter with it made it click.
'Hengshanpa's had it rough.'
An intelligent spirit beast causing mischief the moment it sensed safety. Even reading about it secondhand, I felt their pain.
So I drafted approval for capture per Han Un's request. Since natural spirit beasts were rare, I stipulated live capture over killing—but stopping the rampage would ease their burden.
'Send it tomorrow.'
Considering the pigeon's flight from Hengshan, I scheduled dispatch for next day. Pushing it risked collapse en route—hassle for all.
Shoving beast thoughts aside for other work, another pigeon from Han Un arrived.
"What the..."
Enclosing a shocking letter: a second spirit beast had naturally appeared at Hengshan.
"......"
I burned the capture permit I'd prepped that morning.
Two in one spot? Beyond my solo call. This incident might reveal spirit beast emergence or breeding conditions.