"Chairman, I've brought Lee Ha-Eun with me."
The secretary stepped forward and greeted Lee Ji-Cheol.
The worry etched on his face gave way to a slight sense of relief.
"Come in. I’m sorry for the sudden trouble, but I must ask for your help."
"I would’ve had to deal with this anyway, so it’s better to get it over with quickly."
"Thank you for seeing it that way."
There was an unusual humility in Lee Ji-Cheol’s tone. It felt strange.
Seeing him so anxious over his granddaughter was a stark contrast to his usual demeanor. Then again, he was human, after all.
"Where is Lee Soo-Rin now?"
"I’ve sent her to a separate room. Only her body, though..."
"I see. I’ll head in now."
With that, I opened the door behind them and stepped inside.
The familiar workshop held only one thing—a solitary painting.
"The Gumiho... This doesn’t seem like the type to cause casualties."
It felt odd, but I figured I’d understand once I faced it directly.
"Let her go and play with me instead. It’s been a while."
A voice echoed through the workshop. Suddenly, my vision shifted.
***
This place... It’s been a long time. Looks like the forest I remember from before.
The memories were faint, but I still couldn’t forget that day.
The day I met my mentor and encountered the fox—The Gumiho.
This world reflected those memories.
Unlike what I remembered, the vast forest stretched endlessly now.
The trees weren’t densely packed, though.
It felt like a tranquil forest placed on a green plain. How else could I describe it?
It was the kind of enchanted forest you’d only see in fairy tales.
"Miho~. I don’t have much time. I can’t stay here long."
I cupped my hands around my mouth and called out, but there was no answer.
Hmm. Maybe over there. It must know I’m here.
The one who pulled me into this illusionary world couldn’t possibly be unaware of my presence.
"Miho~."
I kept calling, but still, only the sound of rustling air filled the forest.
Though I wandered aimlessly, I was heading in the right direction.
If my memory served me right, it would be there.
“Of course, I knew it’d be here.”
In the heart of the forest was a small clearing.
It was about the size of a typical playground.
There, Lee Soo-Rin and The Gumiho were playing together.
"Oh! Ha-Eun-nim?!"
Spotting me, Lee Soo-Rin covered her mouth with her hands in surprise.
I gave her a slight bow in greeting.
"Ahaha, hello. It’s been a while. Chairman Lee is worried about you..."
I wanted to apologize for my rude behavior at the banquet hall, but the words wouldn’t come out.
"Oh! I see. But, um... this fox won’t let me go. What should I do?"
With an awkward smile, Lee Soo-Rin pointed at the fox sitting on her lap.
It yawned lazily, then shot me a glare.
This was definitely the Gumiho I knew.
"Hey, let her go. Play with me instead."
"No."
"Wh-what?! The fox talked!"
Lee Soo-Rin’s eyes widened in shock at the fox’s response.
So it had been pretending to be an ordinary fox until now. Typical.
"You brat. The person you dragged in is important outside, you know? We’re short on time."
"Uh, excuse me... How long has it been outside?"
She cautiously asked, her tone tentative. I pinched the bridge of my nose as a headache began forming.
"About three hours, I think."
"That long... I wanted to stay longer, though."
With a faint, regretful smile, Lee Soo-Rin petted the fox’s head.
"Um... could you let me go now?"
"No."
The fox enjoyed her touch, but its answer remained the same.
Cunning little rascal.
"Why does a fox that usually hates strangers cling to her?"
"...She smells like my owner."
Owner's scent?
There had been a brief encounter at the banquet hall, but no way their scents had mingled.
Still, understanding the fox’s nature, the explanation made sense.
"The owner’s here now, so let her go. People are worried sick outside."
"Hmph."
The fox turned its head away with a pout, then glanced at Lee Soo-Rin again.
"Do I have to go? Can’t I stay a little longer?"
"Ahaha, sorry. I’ll come back next time. Can’t you let me go now?"
The fox turned back to me, its expression reluctant.
"...Fine. I’ll let you go. But you have to come back tomorrow, okay?"
"Ah! Thank you! Yes, I’ll come back tomorrow!"
Beaming, Lee Soo-Rin petted the fox for a long time before looking at me.
"Um, so... how do we get out of here?"
I sighed and rubbed my temples.
.
.
Once Lee Soo-Rin was sent out and it was just the Gumiho and me left in the clearing, I turned my attention to the fox.
The Gumiho, sprawled lazily on a tree stump, let me lift it up and place it on my head without any resistance.
No protests, only a drawn-out yawn.
The Gumiho was always like this by nature. That’s probably why I liked it from the very beginning.
“Comfy up there?”
“Mm-hmm. This is the best spot, as always.”
Somehow, my head had become the Gumiho’s favorite perch since the day we first met.
And this place—this clearing—was where my connection with the Gumiho began.
It was also the place where my journey as an artist started.
“Have you seen the Seiren?”
Breaking the silence, I spoke while looking at the seemingly tranquil forest and blue sky.
But what is greed, after all? Foxes are greedy creatures by nature. Yet here, there was nothing to gain.
This place was the epitome of boredom. My first painting in my past life captured this exact sentiment.
It was back when I was stuck in a creative slump.
“Recently. It came to visit when I arrived in Korea.”
The Gumiho rarely moved, preferring laziness over playfulness—its laziness was on another level.
“I see. Nothing unusual happened, then?”
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“Don’t you think it’s a little late for you to ask that?”
Its casual words left a bitter taste in my mouth. The Seiren had said something similar before, and it was true—I was too late.
“...Still, I appreciate you coming back for us.”
The Gumiho, seemingly shy, rubbed its snout against my head repeatedly.
“Why did you bother people so much? There had to be a reason.”
“No reason. I was bored.”
“Even so, kidnapping people to play with isn’t okay.”
“Well... uh... sorry.”
With that, the Gumiho shifted and leapt down in front of me.
As it landed, it transformed into its human form—a small boy with fox ears and nine tails.
His delicate, almost feminine features made him captivating, the kind of face that lured people in.
Of course, most who approached him with such thoughts usually ended up regretting it.
The Gumiho enjoyed that part the most.
“Master.”
“Speak. I’ll answer most of what you want to know.”
“Why did you abandon us?”
His trembling orange eyes locked onto mine.
“You promised to stay with us until the end.”
Now, his voice quivered with tears that tugged at my chest.
“Why... did you die?”
Tears finally began to spill from his eyes.
“Did you hate us... that much?”
He was even starting to blame himself.
I looked at him quietly for a moment before letting out a sigh.
“Come here.”
Hesitating briefly, the Gumiho slowly approached me.
I placed a hand on his head, stroking his hair gently, and gave him a faint smile.
“That’s not it, you idiot. You’re a part of me, and I’m a part of you. How could I ever hate you?”
As I wiped away his tears, I continued speaking.
“The problem lies with me, so don’t blame yourself. You heard from the Seiren, right?”
“...Yeah. You’re going to change all the masterpieces.”
Still sniffling, the Gumiho nodded, his voice weak like that of a child.
“I’ll fix this place too, so you won’t be bored anymore.”
For 17 years, the fox had been alone in this frozen forest.
The once-greedy Gumiho had lost interest in the forest long ago and wandered aimlessly.
No matter where he went—north, south, east, or west—everything looked the same.
He couldn’t leave this place. Boredom and monotony had consumed his existence.
For a creature defined by greed, it was a cruel fate.
Even if he wanted something, there was nothing to take—just trees as far as the eye could see.
So the Gumiho devised a plan. If he couldn’t escape, maybe he could bring people into this illusionary world and find amusement in them.
While the world of illusions was fake, the humans who entered it were real.
Surely, they would provide some fun.
The sly, fun-seeking fox decided to play tricks.
And now, that had led us to this moment.
“Looks like I’ll have to get to work as soon as I get out of here.”
“It’ll be hard... I was your first painting, after all.”
“I know. But what choice do I have? I’ll do what I can.”
“...Don’t leave us again, Master.”
“I won’t, you silly thing,” I said, stroking the Gumiho’s hair.
That being said, the remaining masterpieces are going to be a pain.
I wasn’t exactly in a position to judge others, but those guys were truly unhinged.
Especially Wrath, the Dragon. Just thinking about him gave me a headache.
That one didn’t listen to me at all.
Anyway, the reason I came to the Seiren and the Gumiho first was simple: they were the gentlest of the masterpieces.
They didn’t actively antagonize people. Even though there were reports of casualties in Japan, it probably wasn’t too severe.
Despite appearances, the Gumiho had a soft heart.
He’d probably stopped playing and let his “guests” go before anything too serious happened.
After all, I hadn’t heard any news of deaths.
“Looks like it’s time to go.”
“Don’t leave.”
“If I stay too long, you’ll never see me again. Is that okay?”
“...Come back tomorrow.”
It seemed the Gumiho already knew about my condition, probably thanks to the Seiren.
Still, perhaps because it had been so long since we’d last met, he didn’t want to let me go.
“Don’t worry. I’ll come back in the morning.”
Though our reunion had been sudden, it ended on a good note.
The Gumiho... wasn’t it a watercolor painting?
Looks like I’ll be busy again starting tomorrow.