Halloween Special (2)
A clattering sound echoed through the yard of the tipster's house.
The production team, tackling their first assignment since appearing on Animal Kingdom, wielded chainsaws and hammers with manic grins, working away nonstop.
It didn't take long.
About thirty minutes, maybe?
"Director, they say the bat house is fully built and installed. Whoa! L-look, the bat's not flying away—it's perched on your shoulder!"
"Ah, yeah. I guess I'm just animal-friendly."
—Huh? What're you saying? Does this guy understand us? That was supposed to be a secret!
The bat perched on my shoulder (Batman 35, male, 1 year old) squeaked away, but I didn't respond.
Just letting him sit there was already drawing plenty of attention.
"Wow, this is super rare. Hold on, Director—I'll grab the camera real quick…"
"No need. It's nothing special. Anyway, could you pass the word to the tipster first? They've been asking how long the install would take."
"Right! Be back in a sec. We'll film right after. Little bat, hang tight, okay?"
—Who're you calling little? Baldy.
Oblivious to Batman 35's inner grumble, the youngest crew member winked at the bat and dashed inside.
'Good. Now it's go time.'
Time to execute the plan.
I whispered to Batman 35 like a ventriloquist.
"Showtime. When I give the signal, bring your whole family out. See that box on the outer wall? Head straight there."
—Got it. But there are a bunch—which one?
"Beats me. You guys pick. No time—hurry."
—On it!
Batman 35 received the order, kicked off gently into the air, and slipped neatly into a tiny hole near the eaves.
That minuscule hole—barely visible—was the only way into the house.
Once all the bats were out, we'd just ask the production team to seal it, and mission accomplished!
As I watched Batman 35 vanish into the hole, nibbling my lip…
"You've all worked hard. I heard the build's done."
The tipster shuffled out, face still haggard.
"There you are. We mounted the bat house on the upper outer wall, just like we discussed—similar to a birdhouse."
"Ah, yeah. But it's bigger than I thought… way bigger?"
"We made it spacious for breeding season."
"Spacious is good, but… one house is almost human-height, and you made three?"
I'd asked the production team for extras, but objectively, it was the right call.
We couldn't risk the tipster changing their mind mid-relocation.
I pulled out my phone from my pocket. Time for swift action.
"Let's get the bats moved in right away. Then you can finally sleep soundly."
"Ah, sure, please do. But how exactly…?"
"We'll blast predator sounds to lure them out. Step back a bit."
"Huh? You think that'll work? I already tried something like that…"
The tipster's doubt deepened.
I wasted no time, shoving a brutal YouTube video of a bat predator's shrieks right up to the eave hole and hitting play.
Hoo-hoo… hoo-hoo…
As the savage night hunter's cries blared from my phone speaker, the tipster's face stiffened further.
"…Sorry to say this, but I used the exact same video…?"
Flutter-flutter!
Didn't matter. It was all coordinated with Batman 35 anyway.
'Here we go. Come on out, bats.'
Bats: the only mammals that truly fly like birds.
Fast as a swift, with hairpin turns no bird could match—the true kings of the sky.
"M-my god… are those… all b-bats?"
The tipster's voice trembled as they craned their neck—not from the bats' graceful flight, surely.
More like the massive swarm slicing through the glaring full moon.
"D-Director… how many bats were in our house? At least fifty… no, over a hundred easy…"
The tipster gaped at the endless stream pouring from the eave crack. I couldn't answer easily.
Batman 35 had said just over 300.
'Whoa… look at these little shits. No way that's 300.'
Looked way more.
"Hmm… a bit over a hundred, I'd say. Good thing the team made the houses roomy."
"Yeah, but… but…"
Not just the tipster—Reina and the crew stood slack-jawed too.
The scene unfolding was straight out of a movie.
As everyone stared, mesmerized by the sky-filling swarm…
Whoosh~ whoosh~ whirl!
One bat spiraled down and landed lightly on my right shoulder.
—Hey, mister. We're all out.
"You said just over 300, man. That looks like 400… no, 500 at least!"
—Heh. We night-sky roamers don't spill exact numbers. That's how we survive.
This guy?
Thunder was like that, and now Batman 35—rodents sure had a knack for buttering you up.
"Ugh, whatever. Good thing we built 'em big… Why are they circling like that instead of going in?"
—We're on TV, right? Gotta give 'em a show. Flex a little.
"Sheesh, you punks watch TV? See the homeowner next to us? Guy's about to foam at the mouth—tell 'em to get in before he changes his mind and rips the houses down."
—Tch, fine.
"Wait! Double-check no one's left inside. We're sealing that hole right after."
—Man, you're heartless. No love, no love.
"……."
Couldn't even swat him.
My clenched fist trembled faintly.
Batman 35 tsked just enough to grate, then dove back into the hole and emerged soon after.
—Clear!
With that, he rejoined the eerie 500-bat swirl under the gleaming full moon.
Flutter!
Flutter-flutter!
Soon, the swarm funneled relentlessly into their new home.
Even I found the sight oddly mesmerizing.
"Our house… it'll be okay, right?"
The tipster sidled up, voice quivering.
After some thought, I replied.
"Congratulations. No more calling pest control."
"……Yeah."
Heading back to Seoul after wrapping the Halloween special, night had fallen, but the van buzzed like midday.
"Whoa! I was so shocked earlier I couldn't even speak! This Halloween ep is gonna explode! Overseas trips are real now!"
Reina, naturally, was the source of the racket.
Frozen solid during filming, but now she couldn't contain her delayed hype, repeating herself endlessly.
"Yeah, looks like it. Reina, aren't you tired? You didn't sleep on the way here."
"Sleep? With ratings about to skyrocket?"
Did she not get I wanted to mute her?
Or was she playing oblivious? Her nonstop chatter drilled into my skull.
The crew, hyped too, kept yapping about the moonlit bat whirl.
'Ah, they're all so young. Youth means endless energy.'
To escape the ant-trap of chatter, I pulled out my phone.
'Shin Min-ji? What's up?'
Two missed calls and a text.
The sound barrier story was long wrapped.
Curious, I checked her message.
We were nearing Seoul. Midnight on the clock.
Normally, I'd hold off out of courtesy, but…
"…That bat landing on your shoulder before heading in? So cool!"
"Huh? You saw it too, Reina? Dang, I missed the shot…"
The van still chirped away. One escape route.
"Gonna take a call."
"This late?"
"Yeah, urgent."
Finally, silence.
I dialed Shin Min-ji.
Might not pick up—no biggie. The ringing would give my ears a break. But…
—Director!
She answered before the third ring.
"Hello, Reporter. Sorry for the late reply. Hope it's not too late."
—No worries. I asked you to call ASAP.
It was just past midnight, but her voice was bright and chipper.
—A friend of mine has a request.
"Request? Like an interview?"
—Not quite. Thought you might help directly. Heard of Saemangeum Safari? Opened earlier this year.
Saemangeum Safari?
How could I not?
The nation's largest zoo, built on the old Saemangeum Jamboree site—bigger than Seoul Grand Park.
"Yeah, I know it, though I haven't visited. What's Saemangeum want with me?"
Colleagues from school worked there. I knew of it, even if zoos weren't my thing.
—They want to discuss in person. The director himself wants to meet and ask. Okay if I set something up?
"The director himself?"
Her words left me speechless.
The Saemangeum Safari director I knew… wasn't your average guy.