Bloodstained Moonlight
That night after dinner, she had a dream. It was a lucid dream—the first in a long while. Unlike the others, the surroundings were pitch dark, and the sound of someone weeping echoed through the gloom. The low, resonant timbre clearly belonged to a man. Gradually, the weeping turned into broken sobs.
“Save me… please save me, my lord. I have a wife and children at home. Please… I beg you…”
Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the surroundings grew slightly clearer. Massive trees and thick underbrush surrounded her. The sloped ground suggested they were somewhere on a mountainside.
Yeo-won flinched and whipped her head toward the voice.
A familiar voice.
It was Shin-wol.
Then this had to be the past. Yeo-won walked in the direction of the sound. She pushed through the dense brush, and a vast pond bathed in moonlight appeared before her. Unlike the cramped space she had just left, this area was relatively open.
Beneath the moonlight streaming down like a single shaft of light in the darkness, the water’s surface shimmered with beautiful ripples. The scene was so overwhelming it could only be called spectacular, yet none of it registered in Yeo-won’s eyes. The sight before her was so horrifying it completely eclipsed the magnificent view.
The blue grass was soaked in bloodstains of unknown origin, and at her feet lay mutilated corpses scattered like discarded trash. The bodies had been torn apart and strewn everywhere.
In the middle of that gruesome scene stood Shin-wol. Even surrounded by corpses, he gazed down at the man with a perfectly calm expression.
“I—I don’t know anything. I swear… I only received orders to kill every fox on this mountain… Aaaagh!”
A sickening crunch echoed as the man’s foot twisted at an unnatural angle. Shin-wol, who had crushed it beneath his own, wore no expression at all. If anything, his serene composure made the man’s face turn even paler.
“Huk… kkeu-euk… Save me, please save me. Please… please…”
Shin-wol looked down at the man and let out a small sigh. Boredom settled over his features as he slowly waved a hand through the air.
“……”
Blood gushed from the man’s neck like a fountain. With his artery severed, he clutched his throat and thrashed across the ground. His eyes, filled with a mixture of agony and terror, grew bloodshot. Then, as if a string had been cut, his body went limp.
Yeo-won stared at the collapsed corpse, then slid down against a tree, legs giving out beneath her.
Her eyes trembled without pause. Her breathing grew harsher by the second. Fear, horror, vertigo—every emotion crashed over her at once, blurring her vision.
Shin-wol, who had been standing as still as a statue, tilted his head back.
Beneath the endless cascade of starlight, he looked utterly serene, as though he had become one with the night itself. The image was so picturesque it was impossible to believe he had just killed a man.
He exhaled a languid breath. With a sound like cracking ice, his pupils shifted.
Those slowly moving eyes turned precisely in Yeo-won’s direction.
The instant their cold, lifeless gazes met, Yeo-won’s consciousness shattered.
“Huk!”
Yeo-won bolted upright the moment she woke, chest heaving. Her terrified eyes darted frantically in every direction. There were no scattered corpses. No Shin-wol. She was home.
Still breathing hard, she turned toward the window. Pale dawn light filtered weakly through the curtains.
“…A dream?”
It had been far too vivid to dismiss as merely a dream. Was this, like the others, a fragment of the past? No. In truth, even the previous lucid dreams had never been clear—dream or memory?
Everything felt uncertain, yet one image remained burned into her mind with painful clarity: the way he had killed without a trace of emotion. And those eyes that had met hers from afar.
The moment she had looked into those inorganic eyes—so far removed from anything human—an indescribable terror had swallowed her, as though she were sinking into an endless swamp.
Yeo-won pressed her palms hard against her eyes and dragged them down her face. When she looked beside her, she saw Cheong-sil curled into a tight ball on her right, sleeping so deeply he seemed lost to the world.
Hmnnyang…
Whatever pleasant dream he was having, Cheong-sil smacked his lips with obvious satisfaction. Last night, after they finished tidying up, he had naturally climbed onto the bed and claimed his spot. When Yeo-won had asked whether spiritual beings even needed sleep, he had explained that using spiritual energy consumed stamina, so they slept to restore it.
Those words had made her think of Shin-wol. That day she had trespassed into his garden, he had been sleeping on the veranda. Which meant he had used spiritual energy then as well. Yeo-won had been lost in thought when Cheong-sil’s voice pulled her back. She hadn’t dwelled on it too deeply. There was no real reason to wonder about it.
And then she had gone to bed and dreamed of that.
“Haa…”
Watching Cheong-sil sleep so peacefully, her trembling slowly eased. Only then did she realize her body was drenched in cold sweat, skin sticky and clammy.
“I need to wash.”
She wiped the sweat from her forehead and rose from the bed. Tomorrow would mark the third day of the promise she had made with him. She had no idea what expression she should wear when facing him.
When morning came, Cheong-sil woke up and immediately began racing around the room. Ignoring his antics, Yeo-won tried to decide what to make for breakfast.
The phone beside her chimed. The screen showed a text from her client. As she scrolled through the message, Cheong-sil came bounding over in a flurry of excitement.
Yeo-won glanced over and saw the television had been turned on. He must have been playing with the remote and accidentally pressed the power button.
“Cheong-sil, I told you yesterday—you can’t just press buttons randomly. And they’re not inside it; it’s playing a recording.”
“Don’t lie.”
Even as she scolded him like a child, her eyes continued scanning the long message. Confusion crossed her face, then her expression crumpled completely.
“What is this?”
The absurdity was so great her inner thoughts slipped out loud. The text informed her they would meet at the promised time today and included a map to the company.
She hurriedly scrolled back to the previous message. It was filled with lengthy thanks, countless T_T emojis, and a request to treat her to a meal while discussing the next project. The date and time had been clearly listed, along with a polite question about whether it suited her schedule.
The fool who had replied “Yes, good work” without reading the full message was none other than herself.
“Ah… stupid Han Yeo-won.”
Dizzy, she pressed hard on her temple and checked the date and time again. It was today, but the meeting was in the afternoon, so she still had some breathing room.
The problem was…
“Cheong-sil, that’s not a toy.”
He had continued fiddling with the remote and had somehow managed to pull out the batteries.
She needed to leave it behind for the meeting, but the thought made her anxious. Still, she couldn’t cancel a promised appointment, so she sighed and called for him.
“Cheong-sil, come here for a second?”
His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he examined the battery like some mysterious creature.
“Fine. Then just listen from there.”
While typing a quick reply that she would see them soon, she continued speaking.
“I have work this afternoon, so I need to step out for a bit. Can you stay by yourself for… about four hours? Like we promised yesterday, you must not touch anything randomly.”
K Company was only thirty minutes away by bus; she had been there before. She had assumed he would agree. Instead, she heard the remote clatter to the floor.
When she looked up, Cheong-sil was glaring at her with narrowed eyes.
“Huh?”
Cheong-sil turned his head sharply and declared with stubborn determination.
“No, this is work—I can’t take you with me…”
Cheong-sil huffed loudly and turned his back on her entirely. Then, in a slightly deflated voice, he muttered.
His ears and tail, which had been standing excitedly, drooped all the way to the floor. Even his whiskers looked wilted.
Yeo-won felt a pang of guilt. Of course he had been hurt. He had simply been hiding it. She desperately wanted to comfort him, but she couldn’t offer clumsy consolation. If she did, she might actually end up having to take him along.
She racked her brain for a solution.
What worried him was her running away again. If she promised to return without fail and coaxed him properly, perhaps it would work.
The problem was how.
Looking at that stubborn little back, it was clear ordinary reasons would not sway him.
What reason could… Ah.
“Cheong-sil, you can’t go outside in your fox form…”
Cheong-sil flinched and sneaked a glance at her. Seeing his distrustful eyes, Yeo-won drove the point home.
“It’s true. The city is an incredibly dangerous place. If a fox walks around outside, people will take photos, and someone might try to take you away.”
Cheong-sil’s round eyes wavered. Seeing him tremble like a reed in the wind, Yeo-won quietly approached and patted his back.
“Just four hours—no, three hours. I promise I’ll come back this time. Remember what I told you before? How important promises are?”
She held out her pinky finger. Cheong-sil’s whiskers twitched. Yeo-won smiled sweetly.
Just as she thought she had convinced him, Cheong-sil looked straight at her and spoke clearly.