The Tiger Legend of Busan Jangsan (3)

Wagging my tails with a swish swish as I descended from Jirisan, I finally returned to the human world in the truest sense after about two years. Sniff. Sniff sniff. Sniff sniff sniff. Ahh, this familiar smell of exhaust fumes. I had missed this flavor.

Unlike the world I knew, this was a region where yokai frequently appeared, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so tourists rarely hiked Jirisan. Still, it wasn't completely devoid of people.

Objectively speaking, my current appearance was eye-catching to an extreme degree. Six tails swaying in the breeze. Perky fox ears. Even a hanbok straight out of the Joseon era. The trifecta was perfect. It was as if I were advertising to the entire neighborhood: 'Crazy bitch cosplaying as a six-tailed fox right here!'

I pulled the hat the director had given me before departure firmly down over my head. It was to hide my fox ears. Changing into regular everyday clothes humans wore would draw less aggro, but with my physical trait of six tails, wearing normal clothes was impossible even if I wanted to. The fox ears on my head could somehow be covered with a hat, but hiding the tails was no easy feat. So the next-best solution I chose was carrying a large bag.

...It looked strange, sure, but it was still better than openly exposing my tails.

The distance between Jirisan and Jangsan was roughly two hours by taxi—not exactly close. The fastest route was descending to Guryegu from Jirisan, catching a taxi, and heading straight to Busan, but I had decided never to take a taxi. Two hours in a cramped space with a strange man. Indeed. Could the driver possibly resist my passive skill, Charm?

...Who knows. I wasn't sure, but judging from the reactions of the perverts—no, the men—from the Jirisan Yokai Extermination Office, it was best to avoid being alone with an unfamiliar man whenever possible. Of course the driver might turn out to be someone with a strong sense of duty like the director, but since I couldn't know for sure, there was no need to take the risk. That was why I had decided against taking a taxi.

In this current situation where Busan had descended into complete chaos, how many crazy bastards would ride the train all the way there? Fortunately, the trains were still running. Of course the area around Busan Station was completely sealed off, so I couldn't go all the way there. I'd have to get off nearby and walk the rest of the way. It looked like it would be quite the laborious journey.

With those idle thoughts in mind, I soon arrived at the station. Unlike the Jirisan area, there were quite a few people ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠here, and it was only natural that they stared at me.

...Ugh. I had prepared myself, but actually being the center of so many eyes felt embarrassingly awkward. I also worried about what would happen if they realized I was a fox yokai rather than human. Still, I had lived as a human for several decades. Human cosplay? I was confident in that.

After booking my ticket on my phone, I headed straight into the station convenience store to buy cola. See? I entered naturally, and I could pay naturally too.

While grabbing about ten cans of cola—my daily sustenance—something on the display shelf caught my eye. It wasn't jelly. It wasn't jerky. It wasn't snacks. It was dog gum.

Just look at that lewd shape. How was I supposed to resist this?

This was the Busan Jangsan Yokai Extermination Office. In one corner of the operation room, people with extraordinary appearances huddled together, earnestly discussing something.

A total of nine people attended the meeting. National certified Force Arts users with powerful physiques: Park Narae, Lee Joong-hyuk, and Geumseong. A Taoist from the Taoist Association wearing robes that looked out of place in the twenty-first century: Myungjeong. The director and deputy director of the Jangsan Yokai Extermination Office. A general with two stars on his epaulets. Two men in black suits.

The one leading the meeting was Park Heon-jong, director of the Jangsan Yokai Extermination Office.

Park Heon-jong asked the Taoist Myungjeong.

"Is Hojun still not here?"

"He's on his way by train. With the Busan area closed off, it will probably take some time."

"Understood. Then we'll begin the meeting without Hojun."

He immediately began briefing them in detail on the current situation. The characteristics of the tiger yokai whose yokai energy could not be detected. The scale of damage. The radius of activity. It wasn't a particularly informative briefing, so someone cut in.

"Is that all?"

"...Yes, that's all."

"I'm genuinely asking because I don't know—has a yokai that can't be detected by yokai energy detection ever appeared before?"

"...It has not. Not in Jangsan, not anywhere else. Since the yokai detection system was established, this is the first case."

"Then tracking it via CCTV..."

"Impossible. For reasons unknown, that tiger yokai does not appear on CCTV. We assume it's one of its special abilities. We only learned its identity as a tiger through survivor testimony..."

"So it's a completely hopeless situation."

"..."

The director felt ashamed. As the commander supporting the Jangsan Yokai Extermination Office, he was embarrassed that he could not deliver a proper briefing.

"Then what other options do we have? We have no choice but to head out on foot, find it, and smash it."

The one who spoke was the powerfully built Force Arts user, Geumseong. He slammed the table with a bang using his burly muscles and continued.

"Yokai detection doesn't work. It doesn't show up on CCTV. The only method is to split up and search for the yokai on foot."

Geumseong's opinion seemed reasonable enough. If they could not track its yokai energy, then searching on foot as he suggested was indeed the only way.

However, the director sighed at Geumseong's words and countered.

"...It won't work."

"Why?"

"Because the chance of being defeated one by one is extremely high."

The director pressed a remote, displaying footage on the screen. It was CCTV recorded on the day of the incident. Playback time: 17:14:03. Lovers, families, and friends walking along the streets of Busan. An utterly peaceful scene.

A heavy silence fell over the conference room. Soon the director ended the footage and spoke in a trembling voice.

The director looked around at those gathered. Three national certified Force Arts users. One Taoist... no, two. The fact that this much combat power had assembled meant only one thing.

"Judging from the scale of damage, it is estimated to be at least... at least a Rank 2 Yokai. I repeat, this is the minimum estimate."

"..."

"Acting separately will only get us killed for nothing."

The director made his decision. Though it was inhumane, it was necessary to capture this tiger yokai—the enemy of humanity and no different from a disaster.

It was a risky move, but their only option.

Munch. Munch munch munch. Chewing dog gum while admiring the scenery outside the train was a pleasant way to pass the time. Just as I expected, there were almost no passengers, and in the sixth car I boarded, there was literally only me.

Well, it made sense. With the news that a tiger yokai had appeared in Jangsan and was rampaging being splashed across every headline, who'd be crazy enough to take the train anywhere near ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Busan?

Thanks to that, I could lie down on the train without worrying about my identity being discovered and enjoy a short rest.

"Purr, grrrrr."

When my mood improved, a purring sound automatically slipped out.

"Grrrrr."

"Munch, munch, munch."

"Purrrrrl."

"Grr."

With no one around to mind, I wagged my tail swish swish, chewed the dog gum, and purred away happily.

That was when it happened.

"Hey, fuck! It's so damn noisy I could die! What the hell are you doing bringing a dog on the train!"

S-surprise! Someone shouted from one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠corner of the car. I-I thought I was alone?

I jumped at the sudden roar.

Step. Step. Step step step.

Someone approached me. He was a man who looked to be in his late twenties, wearing an old-fashioned robe that reminded one of a grim reaper—just like mine.

Upon seeing my pathetic figure lying on the seats, wagging my tail and chewing dog gum, he opened his mouth in disbelief.

"...Nine-tailed fox?"

"Uh... y-yeah."

Don't panic. I had a prepared line. Use it, use it.

I swallowed once and continued.

"It's not a nine-tailed fox. It's a six-tailed fox."

"..."

"Six-tailed fox cosplay girl, Miho."

"..."

"The character's name was... um, what was it again... I forgot."

"..."

Ah. I should have asked that Grade Seven Kim Myung-ho for the name of that nine-tailed fox figurine before I left.