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The man stared at him, smiling.

It was the same beautiful face from moments ago, yet Kang-soe couldn’t understand why the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. When he nodded, Yeom-gon pointed out that he had just claimed to be hunting for ginseng. Was there a difference? Kang-soe certainly didn’t think so, but the man clearly disagreed.

Seeing that familiar lopsided smile curl back onto his lips, Kang-soe hurriedly confessed the truth.

“I am traveling to find medicine for my father. If I manage to dig up some ginseng along the way, it’s just a bonus.”

Even though the man hadn’t threatened him, that specific expression struck terror into Kang-soe’s heart.

Is it because of that massive sword on his hip?

“Are you saying the Five-Foot Tail, Five-Foot Beak possesses the medicine your father needs?”

“That is what I was told.”

He had never seen the beast, let alone tested the cure, so he couldn’t be certain. Hearing this, the man stroked his chin in deep contemplation. Waiting for an answer that refused to pass those sealed lips was pure torture. Perhaps he would have another prophetic dream? Kang-soe offered up the very dream he had previously dismissed as nonsense to strengthen his case.

Still no answer came.

Unconsciously leaning forward, staring intently at the man’s mouth, Kang-soe saw the lips twitch.

“Very well. The road ahead is quiet and lonely. Gaining a traveling companion is a welcome turn of events.”

That was that.

Overjoyed, Kang-soe could barely contain himself. Oblivious to the towel slipping from his modesty, he bowed repeatedly, showering the man with gratitude.

“However, since we are traveling together, you must promise never to lie to me.”

“But of course! What a horrific thought! Why would I ever deceive you, my lord?”

Conveniently forgetting the several times he had already lied, Kang-soe delivered the solemn vow.

“You might catch a chill, so put your clothes back on and let us prepare to leave. I assume the itching has subsided?”

Kang-soe nodded vigorously. Having finally gained a solid lead on the elusive monster, he was too thrilled to notice anything amiss. He completely forgot to question why he kept bumping into this man at every intersection, or how, just an hour ago, he had invented excuses to avoid traveling with him.

Completely unaware that he had been played like a fiddle, Kang-soe continued to beam with joy.

◇ ◇ ◇

By the time they crested the mountain and reached the next village, the sky had turned pitch black. They spent the night at a tavern and packed their bags early the next morning. Yeom-gon placed the shoe in the babbling stream. After spinning in place for a hesitant moment, it began to glide forward, moving surprisingly slower than the current itself.

It was a marvel. Keeping his eyes glued to the shoe, Kang-soe walked briskly along the bank. Looking sideways instead of ahead caused him to nearly slip several times, but Yeom-gon caught him each time.

I have my pride as a mountain man.

Being constantly supported on a simple forest trail was humiliating. Scolding himself to pay attention, Kang-soe focused on his footing.

The stream gradually widened as smaller tributaries joined its flow. Fortunately, there had been no drought, so the water ran steadily even as they descended into the flatlands. Walking alongside the mossy, vibrant green banks—a stark contrast to the rugged mountain terrain—they entirely skipped their meals. Kang-soe ignored his violently rumbling stomach, terrified of losing sight of the shoe. By dusk, his mouth was bone dry and his saliva tasted bitter. His lips stuck together, and his breaths ran hot and shallow.

“Ugh.”

He was starving.

Clutching his hollow stomach and panting heavily, he watched the merciless shoe continue its journey. Sometimes it flipped over and plunged underwater; other times it spun wildly in eddies. Whenever it snagged on a protruding rock, Kang-soe would rush over, only for it to break free and glide away as if mocking him. When the blue sky shifted to gold, then bled into deep crimson and twilight blue, the stream narrowed to a trickle, rendering further travel impossible.

Yeom-gon finally retrieved the shoe.

As Yeom-gon swung the shoe to shake off the water, Kang-soe felt his legs give out. Walking all day without rest left his vision spinning. The dull, rhythmic thwack of the shoe being emptied echoed in the quiet evening.

Night was falling fast.

As Kang-soe blinked his heavy eyes, Yeom-gon approached and waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you exhausted?”

He didn’t even have the energy to complain. Waving a dismissive hand, Kang-soe uncorked his bamboo canteen. No matter how far he tilted it, not a single drop fell. Had he drunk it all? Staring blankly into the empty container, he hoisted himself up. The shoe had stopped, but the stream still flowed. The water looked slightly murky and unappetizing, but his thirst was absolute. Just as he dropped to his stomach to drink, Yeom-gon covered his mouth.

Yeom-gon even wiped away the moisture that had touched Kang-soe’s lips with his fingertips. In turn, Kang-soe stared in bewilderment.

“You must not drink that.”

“Pardon?”

“If you are thirsty, I will share my water with you. But do not drink from this stream.”

When asked why, Yeom-gon leaned close and whispered into his ear.

—“The water smells of blood.”

He delivered the warning as if detecting a fishy, metallic tang in the water were a capital offense.

What on earth is he talking about?

Staring blankly, Kang-soe accepted the canteen Yeom-gon offered. The man clearly hadn’t drunk a drop; the container was full to the brim. One gulp revealed water as cold as a pristine mountain spring. The icy liquid surged through his empty stomach, sending a refreshing chill through his entire body. A single mouthful quenched his thirst entirely.

Refraining from drinking more, he capped it and handed it back. Yeom-gon praised his restraint and grabbed his hand to pull him to his feet.

“We only have a little further to go. However…”

“However what?”

Groan. Forcing strength into his trembling legs, Kang-soe stood and dusted off his rear. Cracking his stiff neck side to side, he waited for the rest of the sentence. Why all the dramatic pauses? When Kang-soe pressed him, the man elaborated.

“It would be best to avoid entering the village, but a massive storm is coming tonight. We cannot sleep outdoors.”

They had to go in, but they shouldn’t. What were they supposed to do? Hearing this, Kang-soe asked why the village was so dangerous.

“Why? Does the village smell of blood too?”

He intended it as a joke, but the man’s face hardened.

“How did you know?” Yeom-gon asked, then broke into a soft smile.

Throughout their journey, the man praised him for every little thing, making Kang-soe flush with embarrassment. Muttering that it was just a lucky guess, Kang-soe turned away—only to hear the man chuckle. He was definitely being mocked. When Kang-soe shot him a sideways glare, the man grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

“A scent of blood means there is raw meat about. As long as we are careful about what passes our lips, we will be fine. Let us enter.”

None of this made sense. What did raw meat have to do with anything? Just as Kang-soe opened his mouth to demand answers, Yeom-gon’s hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“From this moment on, do not put anything in your mouth unless I give it to you. If you are forced to accept something, do not swallow it—spit it out immediately. Do you happen to have any salt on you?”

Kang-soe nodded. He always carried bamboo salt for brushing his teeth. When he confirmed this, the man praised him yet again, making Kang-soe’s stomach churn. At this rate, the man would praise him for breaking wind. Deciding he couldn’t take it anymore, Kang-soe spoke up.

“My lord.”

“Yes?”

“Please, speak to me comfortably.”

“Regarding what?”

“It makes me deeply uncomfortable when you constantly use such elevated language with me.”

“In what way?”

Frustrated by the circular answers, Kang-soe pounded his chest. “You keep using formal honorifics when there is no need! Just call me Kang-soe comfortably. Or call me ‘that Kim fellow’ for all I care.”

Being constantly addressed with such unearned respect and praise was embarrassing. Kang-soe firmly insisted there was no need for it. Yeom-gon tilted his head. Rolling his eyes as if genuinely pondering the request, he found his answer.

“So, you are saying you dislike me treating you with respect?”

“I am saying it is unnecessary.”

Yeom-gon’s eyebrows furrowed in a display of faux distress.

“Are we not traveling companions? What is a companion? Are companions supposed to look down on each other and use degrading speech? Furthermore, esteemed Kang-soe, do you not use honorifics with me?”

“Esteemed Kang-soe?! Absolutely not! Even putting that aside, my lord, you are clearly much older than I am.”

His words tangled in his mouth. Kang-soe paused, staring at the man, trying to articulate his frustration. While he struggled, Yeom-gon struck preemptively.

“We have only been traveling together for a few days, so the awkwardness is natural. As more days pass, we will grow accustomed to one another. If you despise being called ‘esteemed Kang-soe,’ then, respecting our age difference, I shall call you ‘little brother.'”

From esteemed Kang-soe to little brother.

Yeom-gon cared little that Kang-soe’s face drained of color in sheer horror. Kang-soe had opened his mouth only to dig his own grave. Ultimately, he surrendered, agreeing to call Yeom-gon “older brother” just to end the conversation and keep walking. He figured the man would drop the act once he grew annoyed enough. Hadn’t the man dropped his honorifics casually during their earlier conversations anyway? Glaring at Yeom-gon for forcing this bizarre dynamic, Kang-soe furiously pumped his legs.

His feet throbbed.

His back ached, and his legs felt ready to give out.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, exhaustion washed over him. He debated whether to shrug off the arm draped comfortably over his shoulder, but they arrived at a tavern. Pushing open the twig gate and calling for the owner, a figure rushed out.

She moved with an agility that belied her hunched, elderly frame. As soon as they stepped into the yard, the old woman enthusiastically bombarded them with questions about food and liquor. Her missing teeth caused her words to whistle and slur, making her nearly incomprehensible. However, Yeom-gon seemed to understand her perfectly and rejected every offer.

“We are exhausted and have no desire for food or drink. We only need a room for the night and will leave at first light. Prepare our quarters and take payment immediately.”

Starving and desperate, Kang-soe stared at Yeom-gon with a look of pure betrayal, but the man didn’t blink. While Kang-soe whimpered beside him, the old woman agreed and prepared their room. She brought in sleeping mats and pillows, collected the coins, and grumbled under her breath about guests who refused to buy food or alcohol. Because her words were so slurred, Kang-soe let them go in one ear and out the other, crawling straight into the room.

He collapsed onto the bedding without bothering to unpack his bag or remove his clothes.

“I need to wash…”

His body was so utterly drained he couldn’t move another inch. When he muttered his surrender to the dirt, Yeom-gon lay down beside him, agreeing he felt the same. Wiggling his toes, Kang-soe kicked off his socks into a corner and burrowed under the blanket. Because of the summer heat, it was a thin, unlined sheet, yet it carried a foul, musty stench—the smell of something stuffed in a damp corner and left to molder for years. Covering himself with it made his skin crawl as if he were being soaked in slime. He kicked it off.

Yeom-gon, who had remained lying on top of his own blanket, spoke up, “No matter what happens, until we leave this village, you must not consume anything unless I give it to you.”

“Earlier you said it was fine as long as I didn’t swallow it.”

“Not letting it touch your lips at all is the safest route. Do you understand?”

It would be wonderful if the man actually explained why.

Kang-soe clamped his mouth shut. What a frustrating nobleman. Unable to voice his complaints aloud, he shoved the damp, foul-smelling pillow aside and used his own pack instead.

Exhaustion overpowered his hunger; within minutes, his body sank like waterlogged cotton, and he fell into a deep, snoring sleep.

◇ ◇ ◇

His heavy slumber was broken by the sound of rain. He couldn’t fathom why the sound of rain always woke him. Whether from the damp chill or the grueling march, his limbs felt like lead. Shifting his weight was an agonizing chore. Groaning, he barely managed to roll over and close his eyes again when a sound cut through the downpour—a rhythmic grinding, like a blade on a whetstone.

Screeech. Scrape. Screeech. Scrape.

In the dead of night, the sound swelled until it echoed like thunder. Dread gripped him. He had always considered himself a brave man, but courage was meaningless in the pitch-black darkness. And of course, amidst the terror, his bladder decided this was the perfect moment to demand release. Yielding to nature, Kang-soe sat up. Groaning, he fumbled around the dark room, searching for a chamber pot, but found none.

The moment he sat up, the sharpening sound vanished, replaced entirely by the torrential rain.

Did I imagine it?

Cracking the door open revealed a ferocious downpour. Rain immediately splattered onto the wooden porch; he slammed it shut. Yeom-gon’s prediction of a massive storm had been dead accurate.

Scratching his head, he let out a massive yawn. Remembering his shoes, he opened the door again. His were cheap straw, but Yeom-gon’s were expensive leather. Not wanting them ruined, he patted the stepping stone below the porch—nothing. Heavy droplets from the eaves pelted his head.

Assuming the pitch-black night was playing tricks on his eyes, he stood. A violent flash of lightning illuminated the courtyard. The black sky flared pearl-white—and in that split second, something clamped down hard on his ankle.

“Waaaahhh!”

A deafening crack of thunder followed immediately. Terrified by the booming sound and the icy grip, he scrambled backward. Slipping on the rain-slicked porch, he landed hard on his rear end.

Ouch. My tailbone. No time to rub the pain away.

Just as he leaped up to bolt, the thing that grabbed him spoke.

“Little brother.”

It was a remarkably familiar voice.

Kang-soe stood frozen, panting.

The voice called out again.

Little brother. Little brother. Get a grip, man. Little brother.

Finally snapping out of his terror, Kang-soe responded, “Brother Yeom-gon?”

The shadowy figure nodded.

“Is it really you, Hyung-nim?”

Another nod.

“But you were in the room.”

“I stepped out to relieve myself.”

How was he supposed to prove his identity? The man let out a low chuckle and grabbed Kang-soe’s hand. Now that he thought about it, the man hadn’t been there when he first opened the door.

Scared me half to death.

While Kang-soe patted his racing heart, Yeom-gon asked if his bruised rear was alright. Kang-soe couldn’t tell if the wetness seeping into his pants was rainwater or if he had genuinely pissed himself, but he assured the man he was fine. His bladder throbbed painfully. Yet as Yeom-gon gently guided him back into the room, Kang-soe followed without question. It simply felt like the only choice.

The moment they were inside, Yeom-gon shushed him urgently. Kang-soe was dying to pee; he had no idea why they needed silence. Pressing hard against his crotch, he took a deep breath.

I do not need to pee. I do not need to pee. I do not possess a bladder. I am a man who never needs to pee.

Chanting the ridiculous mantra internally seemed to help slightly. While the urge momentarily subsided, Kang-soe asked what was going on. Oblivious to his bladder battles, Yeom-gon shushed him again.

Inexplicably, the grinding sound returned.

Screeech. Scrape. Screeech. Scrape.

Straining his ears to identify the source, he realized the sound wasn’t fading—it was growing louder. Something was approaching.

“Wh-what… what is that?”

He swallowed dryly. What could possibly make that noise? Kang-soe looked at Yeom-gon. The room was too dark to read his expression, but he could feel the man’s eyes locked onto him. The stare was piercing.

“You detested it earlier, but hearing you call me ‘brother’ so naturally is quite pleasant.”

“…”

Technically, he had despised being called little brother, but what did semantics matter right now?! Kang-soe shook the man’s sleeve desperately. Did he not hear that noise?

Screeech. Scrape. Screeech. Scrape.

The slow, rhythmic grinding made Kang-soe’s blood run cold.

“Do you not hear that sound?!”

He whispered frantically into Yeom-gon’s ear. Yeom-gon whispered back, calm as still water.

“I hear it.”

If you hear it, why did you tell me to be quiet? The exasperated sigh escaping Kang-soe’s lips almost triggered a catastrophic failure of his bladder control; he shuddered violently. Stop shushing me! My bladder is a second away from exploding! And I’m too terrified to step outside!

Yeom-gon ignored the panicked plea entirely and shook his head.

“If you needed to relieve yourself, you should have said so earlier.”

“You dragged me back inside!”

“I suppose I did.”

“And with that horrifying noise out there, how am I supposed to go out and piss?!”

It was maddening.

As Kang-soe pounded his chest in frustration, Yeom-gon caught his hand, lowered it, and chuckled. A quiet laugh, but perfectly audible, which only spiked Kang-soe’s temper further.

The door rattled.

Wind? Or something else? A flash of lightning, then a massive, rattling crash—sounding like hail pelting the roof. A freezing, damp chill flooded the room, making Kang-soe feel as if he had been swallowed into the maw of a giant snake.

Not that I’ve ever been swallowed by a snake.

Good lord.

It was terrifying.

Absolutely terrifying.

Trembling so violently his knees knocked together, Kang-soe lost his mind and threw his arms around Yeom-gon in a desperate hug. Oblivious to whether Yeom-gon was watching him or not, he quivered like a leaf.

“Do not succumb to fear. Even if dragged into a tiger’s den, keeping your wits will save your life.”

What on earth are this man’s nerves made of?

Kang-soe decided to ignore the useless advice. He was dying to pee and terrified out of his mind, his legs shaking uncontrollably. Another flash of lightning lit up the yard. A split second later, thunder ripped through the sky—but another sound mingled with it. What was it? By the time he registered the noise, a fist-sized hole had been punched through their paper door.

How could he see so clearly in the dead of night? The relentless lightning, perhaps.

The hole in the door wasn’t the only one. Through the shredded, waterlogged paper, something slithered into the room.

Flesh.

Thick as a bundle of noodles forced through the wooden lattice, slick and glistening—stretching forward. Kang-soe jumped out of his skin. It was reaching for him. He wanted to scream, but Yeom-gon’s hand clamped firmly over his mouth. Wrapping his arms around Kang-soe’s thrashing body, Yeom-gon locked his legs over Kang-soe’s trembling lower half to pin him down.

The elongated, slimy mass writhed around the room as if searching for something. It swept across the ceiling, then slithered over the floor. Miraculously, it failed to reach the corner where they huddled. Unaware of their presence, the flesh retracted, and the grinding, scraping sound resumed as it dragged itself away. The agonizingly slow, creeping movement paralyzed Kang-soe.

Lightning flashed.

Thunder roared.

Screeech. Scrape. Screeech. Scrape.

The sharpening shifted into a heavy, wet thudding. Through the shredded door, illuminated by the relentless storm, a massive, shell-like object came into view—resembling a monstrous marsh snail.

Wh-what… what in the world.

What kind of grotesque nightmare was this? Unable to form a coherent sentence, Kang-soe gaped like a fish. Yeom-gon patted his shoulder gently. It’s alright now, the gesture seemed to say—but how could anything possibly be alright?

“Wh-wh-what in God’s name is that thing?!”

“What do you mean? It is the tavern owner.”

What owner?! The tavern owner was a hunched old woman!

Kang-soe was about to scream at him to stop making sick jokes, but his voice failed him. Then what was that grinding noise? When he managed to croak out the question, Yeom-gon casually replied it was the sound of the coins she had collected.

“She likely stuffed them into her undergarments. Every time she drags her body across the ground, the coins scrape against the earth.”

“How can you be so calm about this, Brother Yeom-gon?! It’s almost as if you…”

As if you knew everything from the start!

Fury boiled over. Unable to contain his anger, hot tears of sheer stress threatened to spill. What was all this? Sniffling and furiously wiping his eyes, the more he thought about it, the more he realized Yeom-gon had known exactly what this place was.

If I knew it was a monster den, I would have gladly slept in the freezing rain!

Hearing the accusation, Yeom-gon teased him for being scared. A grown man crying over a little monster. Kang-soe wanted to scream, Yes, I’m terrified! and sob loudly. Who had ever seen such an atrocity in their life? How could anyone not lose their mind watching a human-sized snail drag itself across the floor? He squeezed out a pathetic defense, but it fell on deaf ears; Yeom-gon continued to relentlessly tease him.

Ugh. If he wasn’t a noble, I’d wring his neck.

Quivering with unspent rage, a gust of wind blew their door wide open. Hadn’t they locked it earlier? Staring at the door flung open by the gale, Kang-soe forgot his anger entirely, his eyes widening in pure horror. He finally saw what the massive black shapes looming beyond the twig gate were.

Human-sized snails were slowly, agonizingly dragging themselves through the torrential mud.

“We need to leave. We need to leave this place immediately. Right now!”

“In this downpour?”

“Rain or no rain, we have to get away from those things! Why did you drag me in here?!”

Forgetting the man’s noble status, Kang-soe lunged to grab Yeom-gon by the collar. The owner—currently dragging her massive shell across the yard—turned her “head” toward them. She was far away, so he thought they were safe, but the fleshy mass, looking halfway between a human face and a slab of raw meat, stretched endlessly toward them. Her eyes seemed to melt off her face, elongating into grotesque, waving stalks. As she raised them like antennae and dragged herself up onto the wooden porch, Kang-soe’s entire body shook uncontrollably.

“That is a mud snail.”

“Marsh snail, mud snail, who cares?! Why is it so impossibly massive?!”

She was getting closer. The grinding noise returned. The wet, sickening squelch of her body latching onto the wooden porch echoed through the room.

Kang-soe’s vision went dark.

Panic consumed him—until Yeom-gon’s earlier instruction pierced his mind: Do you happen to have any salt?

Tearing himself away from Yeom-gon’s embrace, Kang-soe frantically dug through his pack, retrieving his bamboo salt container and gripping it like a weapon.

“There is undoubtedly a tragic tale behind her transformation.”

“What does her tragedy matter?! I’m about to be eaten alive! My tragedy is far worse! I’m going to die a virgin without ever getting married!”

Curses flew from his lips unbidden. Muttering miserably about dying a virgin, rain leaked from the roof overhead, mingling with the pathetic tears squeezing from his eyes. Yeom-gon asked, “Are you truly a virgin?” but Kang-soe ignored him. “The rain will not stop until morning. Do you honestly believe you can navigate through a yard swarming with those things?”

“You have a plan, don’t you?! You dragged me in here because you knew how to survive, didn’t you?!”

You are the mastermind behind all this misery!

Shouting like a desperate magistrate demanding a confession, the massive snail owner thrust her grotesque face fully into the room. Whether Kang-soe screamed in terror or not, Yeom-gon simply rested his chin on his hand. A wicked smirk crept across his face. Pulling Kang-soe—who had scrambled into the furthest corner, trembling in absolute terror—back into his arms, Yeom-gon reached down and unfastened Kang-soe’s trousers. The belt came loose. As his pants dropped to his ankles, Kang-soe let out a horrified shriek.

“Wh-wh-what! Wh-wh-wh-what! What are you doing?!”

“Hold still.”

“Hold still for what?! You madman! Hey! Where are you touching me?!”

Who wouldn’t panic if another man yanked open their pants and grabbed their most sensitive anatomy? That it was a massive, imposing man made it infinitely worse. He would have been startled if it were the soft, pale hands of a beautiful maiden. But a man. A full-grown man.

While Kang-soe shrieked in violated horror, the owner’s grotesque face slid closer. Her massive shell had fully breached the porch; she was seconds from entering the room. They only needed to scoot backward to avoid her, but Yeom-gon remained planted like a statue. Trapped in his embrace, Kang-soe was pushed so far past terror that a hysterical, broken giggle escaped his lips. Right then, Yeom-gon whispered directly into his ear.

“So, are you a virgin?”

“Why does that matter right now?!”

“I asked you first. Companions do not lie to each other. Did we not promise to never deceive one another?”

To hell with your promises! Eat shit! Ptooey!

Kang-soe desperately wanted to spit the words in his face, but couldn’t—the owner’s elongated, stalk-like eyes were now inches from his nose.

“Yes! I’m a virgin who’s never even held a woman’s hand! I’m a virgin! Are you happy?! Eeek!”