The Path to Coexistence
So you’re telling me you’ve never smoked on the mountain?
“Goddammit, how many times do I have to say it! I didn’t! I smoked before I even started climbing! I’ve got that much common sense, you crazy fox!”
“Aigoo, and this paragon of common sense goes around finishing his cigarettes on crosswalks?”
“That was a special situation! There wasn’t a single person around!”
“Sure, whatever you say.”
“You little— I swear I’m gonna—”
“What?”
“…Just heal me already. My finger’s bleeding.”
“Put a band-aid on it. I’m not wasting spiritual power on that.”
“Aaaaaargh, fuck it! I can’t take this anymore! Today’s the day I kill you and throw a fox-meat barbecue!”
Whoosh.
I wrapped him up tight with my spiritual power.
“Let me go! Let go right now!”
“We’re going to the office.”
Seriously. Who told him to walk around smelling like an ashtray? Anyone would’ve misunderstood. Sure, my senses had sharpened after I let out all seven tails, but that was beside the point. This was the perfect chance for him to quit. His lungs were going to rot at this rate.
I dragged the grumbling Hojun down to the office. The director and Lee Ha-neul were waiting to greet us. Before I met them, I made sure to release my transformation and free him from the binding. I wasn’t stupid enough to forget that part.
The moment he was loose, Hojun came charging at me, even flinging Taoist arts around. Lee Ha-neul stopped him cold.
Snap. Crack. Snap.
STOP
“What exactly do you think you’re doing to our adorable Miho?”
“Lady Ha-neul, please listen! That insane bitch—”
“Mr. Hojun, may I offer one piece of advice?”
“Yes?”
“In this yokai extermination office, if you call Miho a crazy bitch… you’ll probably end up with a knife in the back of your skull.”
“…”
“Please be careful, Mr. Hojun.”
“That dog-like milk boy, I swear…”
Half right, half wrong. Not a cow, but definitely canine. Go study your spiritual beasts again.
While Hojun threw his tantrum, I burrowed into Lee Ha-neul’s arms, whimpering and nuzzling. Pet me. Now.
“Huff huff.”
“…Miho.”
“Huff huff.”
“Miho?”
“Whine… whine…”
What are you waiting for, you dummy? Hurry up and pet me.
“…Miho, could you maybe not walk around in your three-tailed form? You’re kind of… big right now.”
Ah. Yeah, she had a point. Seven tails meant I was no longer a cute little fox but a full-sized mother fox. I could understand why she felt overwhelmed.
I tucked four tails away and settled into her arms, happily chewing on some jerky—no, dog treats. Hojun glared at me with eyes like burning coals, but I just ignored him. If you’re that jealous, go become a fox yourself.
I still didn’t know why Hojun was even at the yokai extermination office, but the four of us gathered in the director’s room had one clear thing in common. Everyone except me knew my true identity.
Hop. I jumped onto the oversized sofa, swinging my short legs while I sucked on an ice pop—the kind they call a Choo Choo Bar. Hojun stared at my face like it was the most bizarre sight in the world. The gaze grew so uncomfortable that I finally snapped.
“Is there something on my face?”
“No… it’s not that…”
“Then why are you staring holes through me?”
“…Your rude little mouth is exactly the same as ever. I was just looking because I’m not used to your child form. That’s all.”
Ah. Right. He had never seen me in this three-tailed state before.
This form was basically Hojun’s natural counter. No matter how much of a perverted bastard he was—with his constant lewd comments on passive—he apparently drew the line at harassing an actual child.
“Though I did prefer the version with the massive tits.”
…Never mind. He really was a lost cause.
Anyway, I wondered why the director had called all of us together. It clearly wasn’t for a casual tea party. His grave expression told me this was no ordinary matter.
Once he finished sorting his documents, the director handed out printed materials and began to speak.
“Mr. Hojun and Ms. Ha-neul already know the details, but I’ll explain again briefly for Ms. Miho’s sake.”
He pointed at the handout and continued.
“In two days, the government will host an emergency countermeasures meeting regarding recent yokai activity trends. After the blue light fox, the Jomagu, and now the formless shadow of Jangsan—yokai of level two or higher have been appearing in extremely short intervals. The government has finally recognized the severity of the situation and is preparing countermeasures…”
Finally. The humans were starting to move properly. About time. If they’d prepared even a little sooner, that tragedy in Busan might never have happened.
…Then again, given how dangerous the formless shadow was, I wasn’t sure knowing in advance would have changed anything. If I hadn’t been there, could they have defeated it?
I doubted it. The creature probably would have fulfilled the conditions for its “fake ascension” long before they could stop it.
From the director’s explanation, I gathered that an incredibly important meeting was happening in two days. Which raised the obvious question.
Why was he telling someone who wasn’t even invited?
The director slid a photograph across the table. Blue fur that reminded me of moonlight. It was the blue fox.
“The blue light fox. A powerful yokai estimated at level two or higher, exterminated by Force Arts user Lee Ha-neul.”
The next photo showed the Jomagu.
“Jomagu. Based on its demonic energy alone it registered as level seven, but considering the destructive shockwaves its abnormal physical strength could produce, it is estimated to possess power of at least level two. Also exterminated by Lee Ha-neul and the Jirisan Yokai Extermination Office.”
I could already guess what the next picture would be. A still frame from a CCTV camera. The yokai’s shape was barely visible. The name “formless shadow” really fit.
“The Tiger of Jangsan. Demonic energy unmeasurable. Numerous casualties. Exterminated by Taoist master Hojun after a fierce battle. Presence of a ‘mysterious collaborator’ noted. …This is the content of the official report submitted to the government. However, everyone gathered in this room knows perfectly well that this report is complete nonsense.”
All eyes turned to me.
…Talk about pressure.
Yes. Coincidentally, I had been deeply involved in all three incidents. I had exterminated the blue light fox. I had exterminated the Jomagu. And I had exterminated the formless shadow as well.
“Director, what exactly are you trying to say?”
“Ms. Miho, I’ll be direct.”
I swallowed hard. I had no idea what was about to come out of his mouth.
“At this meeting, I intend to reveal your true identity to everyone.”
“…Excuse me?”
I stared at him with a blank face. This was beyond unexpected. It was downright absurd.
I asked, genuinely worried for his sanity. “Director, have you been charmed or something? Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you having weird thoughts after looking at my body?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then why would you suggest something like this? Are you sick? Do you need healing?”
“I am perfectly healthy.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense…”
“It does.”
Were they all in on some prank? Lee Ha-neul and Hojun stayed completely silent, just nodding along like bobbleheads. Was I the crazy one here?
The director continued his explanation while I sat there confused.
“Think about it, Ms. Miho. If the Jangsan Yokai Extermination Office had known about you beforehand and asked for your help, we might have reduced the casualties by an exponential degree.”
He was right. We couldn’t have saved the first victims, but we could have saved hundreds more lives.
Still, the premise that they would even ask a yokai for help was already unrealistic. Because—
“I’m a yokai, remember?”
Humans asking a yokai for help? This office’s unusually warm attitude toward me was the exception, not the rule.
The person who answered wasn’t the director. It was Hojun.
“Didn’t I already tell you? You’re not a yokai. You’re a spiritual beast.”
“Spiritual beast, yokai—it’s all the same thing…”
“No. It’s not.”
His next words made me gasp out loud.
“In the past, humans and spiritual beasts coexisted. I read it in one of the Taoist Association’s ancient texts, so it’s reliable.”
“Wh-who exactly was that spiritual beast?”
“I can’t reveal the name yet. I haven’t received permission from the old man.”
“…”
“Anyway, Miho. Spiritual beasts like you once lived alongside humans. We believe the same coexistence is possible today.”
The spiritual beast he was talking about… was it Sangun? He was the only one I knew.
“The humans desperately need your help right now. To get that help, we’ll need cooperation from other offices and the government. That’s why the three of us plan to vouch for your existence at the meeting. Just so you know, my statement will represent the entire Taoist Association.”
Hojun… I knew he was a powerful Taoist master, but he was clearly even more influential than I’d realized.
That was all well and good, but—
“…Will people even believe you?”
If they didn’t, the whole thing would be pointless.
Lee Ha-neul answered this time. “We won’t know until we say it! How could we know if we haven’t tried?”
“And if they don’t believe you? What happens to all of you?”
“Hmm… we’d probably be branded as traitors to humanity and left to rot in prison for the rest of our lives?”
“…You’re all insane.”
These lunatics. They were willing to risk something that crazy just to vouch for me? They had completely lost their minds.
…But why did that make me so happy?
My nose stung. My eyes grew hot. The realization that I hadn’t been doing the wrong thing washed over me. For the first time, I felt genuinely proud of myself.
“Miho, are you crying?”
“Sniff… I’m not crying…”
“You’re so cute! Come here, unnie will wipe your tears.”
She said “come here,” yet she was the one who came to me. Lee Ha-neul pulled me onto her lap and stroked my head.
Hojun, who had been watching in silence, finally muttered, “I still can’t believe that little brat is the same lewd fox with the huge tits.”
…Did you really have to ruin the moment, you bastard?
The director smiled as he watched us.
“There’s no need to worry too much, Ms. Miho. We’ll handle everything. If you could just wait here—”
“No. Sitting around quietly doesn’t suit my personality.”
“Hahaha, I know your personality very well. However—”
“I’m going too.”
“…Pardon?”
To the director’s dumbfounded question, I spoke clearly, enunciating every syllable.
“I’m attending the meeting myself.”
There was no need for them to vouch for me. I would prove who I was with my own two hands. And while I was at it, I could explore Seoul. What could be better?