The Price of Flirting
“Hippo? I came to see Shu-bil.”
—Shu-bil? Shuuu-bil? Uh-heh-heh-heh! Inviting outsiders like this means that male still hasn’t properly tied the knot with his mate. I figured as much with how dense he is.
The male orangutan wiped at his mouth with his hand, chuckling uncontrollably as if it were the funniest thing.
—Well, he might change with some help, but even if you went to see him, Shu-bil that dunce wouldn’t budge.
“Wouldn’t budge? What’s that supposed to mean?”
—Heh. You don’t know the first thing about women yourself—how could you help someone in the same boat? Uh-heh-heh-heh!
I couldn’t believe my ears even as I listened.
Ever since I started hearing animals’ voices, I’d met all sorts of creatures.
But getting treated like a rookie by one? This was a first.
“We just met, and you’re already talking like this? Anyone would think you’re some expert on female… er, female orangutans.”
I tried not to snap, but I couldn’t just let it slide—not with my pride as the lord of all creation on the line.
The orangutan sneered, his lips trembling beneath his thick orange beard as I forced the words out, swallowing my anger.
I felt my fists clenching tight just as he spoke again.
—You’re so dense, kid. Don’t you know orangutans, unlike humans, are polygamous?
“What does that have to do with romance?”
—Heh-heh. Look at you—that’s why you’ve gone this long without holding a woman’s hand.
Sure, patients’ grumblings had irked me now and then since gaining this ability.
But I’d never felt this humiliated before.
By an orangutan, no less.
A total stranger hurling such blunt insults.
My head spun from the verbal barrage, but his merciless words kept coming.
—Kid, think about other animals besides humans. Birds are often monogamous like people, but most primates aren’t.
“Where’d you even hear that?”
This wasn’t a place where animals could just stroll out.
I couldn’t fathom where he’d picked up such knowledge.
And what stung worse was how spot-on he was, eyeing me like some pathetic bachelor son.
Among birds, monogamy rates hover around ninety percent by the book.
But for primates—our own order—it’s a measly twenty-nine percent.
—Heh-heh. “Daytime words are heard by birds, nighttime ones by mice.” And this place is full of both, kid. If I really wanted to know, I could dig up even the color of your underwear.
“……”
The male orangutan crossed his arms and clicked his tongue again.
—Tsk-tsk. Still not getting it. Come on, kid—use your brain. Besides orangutans, which other primates are truly polygamous?
“There are a few, right? Chimps, bonobos, gorillas too…”
—Gah!!
Whoa. Now I was getting yelled at by an orangutan.
—You brat! A vet who doesn’t know the basics!
“…Hey, that’s a bit much, isn’t it? I’ve never said anything like that to anyone. I was top of my class in college admissions and graduation…”
—Gah!!
His second bellow hit even harder.
Maybe it was the shock of a scolding from an animal.
The impact was no joke.
As I rubbed my throbbing temples, the orangutan roughly stroked his orange beard and tsked.
—You’re asking for a beating from every orangutan in the world. Gorillas aside, comparing us to chimps and bonobos? Those degenerates obsessed with orgies?!
That… was the issue?
I was utterly lost.
But from his trembling face, it was clear I needed to apologize.
“…Sorry. Comparing chimps and bonobos was out of line.”
—You brat. Tsk-tsk. At least you show some remorse—lucky you. Anyway, forget those orgy-loving types. If we’re talking true polygamy, gorillas are barely comparable. They at least skip the orgies.
“Hmm… I see. So what makes orangutans better than gorillas?”
The male orangutan stroked his massive cheek pads and tsked again.
—Tsk-tsk, kid. Gorilla males usually have two or three females, but they’re always fighting bloody battles with other males. Here, it’s one male to three females, so no worries. But we orangutans have a strict hierarchy. Once it’s set in the wild, no one challenges the boss.
“Didn’t you say you came from a zoo? You haven’t been wild long…”
—Ahem. I said everything has ears. Tsk-tsk. Don’t nitpick the small stuff. That obsessiveness is why you’re still a bachelor.
“……”
This guy. He sounded so convincing until it got tough, then he backpedaled.
“So, orangutans don’t fight… and that relates to being good at romance how?”
—Tsk-tsk. No, I’m just saying we’re superior to gorillas. Plus, ours are longer.
“……”
Gorilla average penis length: 3.2 cm. Orangutan: 3.8 cm. Functional measurements, too.
‘Ridiculous. Flaunting that in front of a human…’
I was about to puff up my chest when—
—And the act lasts much longer. Heh-heh.
Humility returned. No retort on duration, even as lord of creation.
Primate procreation is quick and to the point.
Excluding pleasure, pure breeding time:
Chimps: 7 seconds.
Gorillas: 1 minute.
Humans: 5 minutes.
A Journal of Sexual Medicine study clocked human male IELT at 5.4 minutes average.
But orangutans clocked 15 minutes with under 4 cm. Clear defeat on stamina. No argument there.
—Heh-heh-heh. That’s not all making orangutans romance experts over gorillas. Females form small groups; males oversee multiple. I’ve got two groups of three females each. Gorillas can’t compare to that expanded polygamy!
“So… you’re saying you’re more knowledgeable because you handle more females than gorillas?”
The male orangutan crossed his arms and stroked his cheek pads again.
—Tsk-tsk-tsk. How’d a vet get by with that brain?
“What’d you say, you punk?”
“Don’t get petty, kid. Managing multiple females split into two groups isn’t easy. Mini, Mani, Mo, and Ling, Ding, Dong—all need care suited to their traits.”
“Mini, Mani…? What’s that?”
—My wives’ names.
“……”
It sounded like nonsense, yet made sense. My head was spinning.
“Oh, sunbae? Talking with Chun-sam? That’s rare. He doesn’t usually come close to people.”
Chun-sam. A thoroughly Korean name, unlike his wives’.
That was this deep-eyed male orangutan’s name.
And Chun-sam—
—Heh-heh. Long time, miss. Even more beautiful than before? Heard you’ve had it rough with those Shu-bils, but life’s hardships haven’t dimmed your beauty.
—Flirting as naturally as breathing. The master flirter.
I ignored his drivel and turned to Choi Eun-seo.
“Yeah, he just came up.”
—Kid, it’s that bachelor stench on you. Not because he likes you…
“Touchscreen filming’s done? Let’s move then.”
I couldn’t stomach more of his nonsense, his attitude shifting by gender.
Even as a vet, I had my pain threshold.
“Sure, sunbae. We’ve barely seen a tenth of Saemangeum Safari. I’ll speed things up now.”
Relief at escaping the maddening orangutan—then his voice from behind.
—Kid, your skills won’t solve Shu-bil’s issue. Ask for this lord’s help anytime. I’ll gladly aid those dunces.
‘…This jerk.’
First time an animal had me seeing red?
Today.
Seething, ready to explode at a touch, I walked on—then more from him.
—If you really came to help, check the hippos. They need it most right now.
“What…?”
“Yes, sunbae?”
We’d wasted time on his self-aggrandizing spiel. No real info on the hippo problem.
“…Never mind. Let’s go.”
“Yes. Everyone, moving out.”
I signaled with my eyes for more on the hippos, but he just gazed soulfully, saying nothing.
We left the primate world for the electric cart.
“All aboard? We’re off. Primate world took time, so we can’t see everything—pick and choose. Next…”
“How about the hippo enclosure? Heard Saemangeum breeds pygmy hippos too?”
“Ah… hippos? Yes.”
Only two hippo species exist.
The massive 1.5-to-3-ton common hippo and the one-sixth-sized pygmy.
Not knowing which Chun-sam meant, I probed—Choi Eun-seo’s face darkened noticeably.
“What? Something wrong with the hippos?”
“Well… Shu-bil’s the public issue, but internally, hippos are the biggest problem.”
“Common hippos? Not pygmies?”
“Yes, common ones. They just had a calf.”
A birth in a zoo or safari is cause for celebration.
Her expression meant trouble, as Chun-sam implied.
“What happened? Calf unhealthy? Or the mother?”
“Both healthy. But… Saemangeum opens this year, right? Unlike other zoos, we take imported animals, customs-seized ones, and neglected zoo transfers. Saving abandoned locals first over just boosting numbers. The hippo family came from a bankrupt zoo.”
“Abused there?”
“Hmm… not quite abuse—more like no proper training or care.”
I gave her a puzzled look; she sighed faintly.
“Previous zoo didn’t exercise them, just overfed. Obese, bad joints. But the real issue: they don’t care for the baby.”
“The baby?”
“Yes. Let’s head to the hippo enclosure now. Better if you see for yourself, sunbae.”
Her face as she gripped the wheel was deeply troubled.
Our cart passed a gate with elephant, rhino, and hippo statues—land battleships—and soon stopped.
Choi Eun-seo said she’d check with the keepers, returning quickly.
“Keeper’s joining us, so let’s go in, sunbae. Change into these for hygiene first.”
We donned boots and vinyl suits, following her through the staff entrance. And—
“Whoa…”
Inside: an African wetland recreated.
Indoor enclosure this grand—outdoor must be immense.
“See them? Gang-dong-i’s the male, Him-sun-i the female.”
Before I could close my gaping mouth, she pointed to the water.
—Her damp skin looks so beautiful, dear.
—Oh, you flirt, saying that again?
—Uh-heh-heh-heh-heh.
The hippo couple cozied up affectionately.
“Hmm… they seem harmonious. No issues with the hippos?”
“Yes. They just don’t care for the calf—their bond’s fine.”
“Really?”
Parents’ fault or calf’s? Unclear yet.
At least their marriage looked solid. As they say, happiness starts at home.
“Calf in artificial rearing then? Not around?”
“…Yes. Tried natural rearing first, but it seemed dangerous.”
“Dangerous? How?”
She glanced around, whispering in my ear.
“Back at the old zoo… the calf died. During natural rearing.”
“…What?”