The Legend of the Five-Footed Monster, Jomagu (1)

Long ago, in a past not so distant, there lived a bird yokai that could never fill its starving belly no matter how much it devoured. Its name was the five-footed monster, Jomagu.

In the first month of winter, deep in a mountain village, two devoted brothers lived with their elderly mother. Their father had been dragged off by a tiger years earlier, and because the brothers were still young, life was bitterly hard. Yet their filial hearts burned bright, and they cared for their mother with utmost devotion.

One day, the mother was preparing dinner, cooking rice in the great pot. The brothers had worked together to catch a rabbit, so she headed to the back room to chop firewood and roast it. In that moment, a tiny creature called Jomagu crept into the kitchen. It lifted the cauldron lid with its beak and began wolfing down the half-cooked rice.

The mother discovered the intruder and swung her axe in terror, striking the little monster again and again. The blade left no mark. In a voice that could not be called male or female, the creature spoke.

Thinking the creature had to be killed at once, the mother hacked wildly at its neck. Jomagu paid no attention and kept devouring the rice. Strangely, with every bite its body swelled larger, until it had become a colossal bird yokai that towered over the mother by the length of a full staff.

Its enormous beak tore out both of the mother’s eyes. Then it seized her axe, hacked her into pieces, and dropped the remains into the cauldron.

For some reason the creature never touched the finished broth, simply leaving it in the pot.

When the sun had sunk low, the brothers returned drenched in sweat. Realizing their mother had vanished, they flew into a rage. Their filial hearts urged them to search for her at once, but exhaustion robbed them of strength. So they ate the meat soup their mother had left simmering, savoring every bite until their energy returned.

Only then did Jomagu appear, clacking its beak.

It lunged at the brothers, but now strengthened by the broth, they fought together and drove the monster off.

The next day, when the devoted brothers learned the true nature of the meat they had eaten, they hanged themselves. After their deaths, Jomagu returned and devoured their corpses whole, bones and all. By then its body had grown to a full five feet in size.

In the second month of autumn, the realm overflowed with practitioners of Taoist Arts and Force Arts, and yokai extermination was commonplace. A creature as large as five feet should have been impossible to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠miss, yet Jomagu’s yokai energy was strangely faint. It slipped through the hunters’ pursuit and survived.

Deciding that while eating was pleasant, it could not consume those who wielded Force Arts or Taoist Arts, Jomagu chose to starve itself deliberately, shrinking its body. In this way it evaded the humans’ yokai hunts. Yet reducing itself so drastically caused it to fall into hibernation.

As its eyes slowly closed, it thought: When I awaken, I will devour everything I see. Everything. Even if that power is called “Force” or “Taoist Arts.”

Chomp. Chomp. Crunch. Crunch. Munch munch munch munch.

“Is it good?”

“Yeah. It’s freaking delicious.”

“I… see…”

Lee Ha-neul kept stealing glances at me while I ate the dog food, clearly bothered. Why was she so interested in me? Maybe she actually wanted some?

“Want a little?”

“Ah, no… I’ll politely decline.”

She turned it down. Too bad. It really was tasty.

I gave the kind-rejecting Lee Ha-neul one last look, then headed toward the place where I sensed a faint trace of yokai energy. There was a reason the two of us were heading out to exterminate this thing called Jomagu. We had to pay for our meals.

It turned out Lee Ha-neul was a freeloader at the Jirisan Yokai Extermination Office, just like me. The government hadn’t sent her, and we weren’t officially partnered. According to her, she was only hanging around the office doing nothing but eating so she could meet me.

It was a puzzling thing. She never demanded information like the chief, never asked me for any real favors. She simply followed me everywhere, chatting about utterly ordinary things.

Is your tail uncomfortable? Can’t you go back to having three tails? What do you like? What do you hate? Do you have a boyfriend… I mean, a close male yokai friend? Just normal everyday talk.

At first I thought she had fallen under the charm of me, a fox yokai. One thing I learned while staying at the Jirisan Yokai Extermination Office was that I apparently possess the power to enchant men. Every male employee except the iron-willed chief would blush the moment they looked at me. Even a yokai as dense about romance as I am couldn’t miss it.

It must be a gift from the gods to help me drain male vitality. Except I had zero intention of draining anyone’s vitality, so the ability was completely useless to me.

Therefore, concluding that “maybe Ha-neul has fallen for me too” felt like a natural and logical guess. Of course she was a woman, not a man, but I’m a fairly open-minded yokai. Sometimes people do like the same sex, after all.

But that wasn’t it. No matter how I looked at it, she didn’t seem to like me romantically. She never ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blushed when she saw me, never stammered. If I had to describe the way she treated me… pet, pet. Pet pet pet.

…Like a pet?

N-no way, that can’t be it…

I had been purring happily while her soft hand stroked my head, but I shook it vigorously to deny the thought. When I did, she pulled her hand back with clear disappointment.

Lee Ha-neul asked, “Miho, they say the more a yokai uses its energy, the shorter its lifespan gets, right?”

“Yeah, well…”

A lot of details were missing, but she wasn’t wrong.

“Then I’ll handle it. You just stay back and watch, Miho.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Of course I will. No matter how weird the signs look, it’s only a seventh-rank yokai.”

“That’s true, but…”

I crunched another mouthful of dog food and thought. Why did I feel so uneasy? Was this “instinct” also a fox yokai trait? I didn’t know, but I decided that if anything went wrong I would release my energy to help her.

Sniff sniff. Sniff sniff sniff.

That was when the stench of rotting corpses began to drift from somewhere ahead.

“What’s wrong, Miho? Does the dog food smell that amazing?”

“No, it’s not that… I think it’s the smell of that Jomagu thing.”

“Huh? I don’t smell anything… Oh, right. You’re a fox, Miho.”

How could she compare this rotting-corpse stench to dog food? Honestly, the dog food smelled so good I could bury my nose in the bag and sniff it all day long.

Anyway, it looked like that Jomagu was right up ahead.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Then it started. A roar loud enough to shake the earth rolled toward us from the distance.

…Was this really the sound a seventh-rank yokai made?

The ground-shaking tremors grew closer. Trees in front of us began to topple one after another. Finally the yokai called ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Jomagu revealed itself.

Two elephants? No. This thing was bigger than three elephants… no, bigger than four put together.

Even Lee Ha-neul was clearly shaken by its absurd size. Her voice trembled as she spoke.

“I-is this really a seventh-rank yokai…”