V1S2C4

Silence.

Look who’s talking.

As the two men stared back, the old man’s shoulders twitched before he demanded again.

“Are you human?! Are you ghosts?! Or are you snails?!”

The question mirrored the one Kang-soe had asked Yeom-gon earlier that morning. Yet again, Yeom-gon seemed entirely uninterested in answering, merely smiling serenely with his hands clasped behind his back.

Ugh. If I could just punch that smug face once, I’d die happy.

While he wouldn’t actually use a precious wish on such a thing, Kang-soe clicked his tongue inwardly. The old man approached closer, his bulging eyes rolling wildly as he demanded their identities once more. Kang-soe threw the question right back at him.

“Who might you be, old man, to ask such a thing?”

“Me? I am… I am a resident of this village. A salt merchant by trade.”

Could you even call this a village? It’s practically a ruin. A salt merchant should be traveling from town to town hauling his wares; why was he lingering in this decaying, cursed place?

The discrepancy made Kang-soe highly suspicious, and he had no desire for a long conversation. Kang-soe wasn’t particularly smart, but he had excellent survival instincts. That intuition was why he found Yeom-gon so unsettling, and it was the same intuition screaming at him to avoid this old man.

“We are merely passing travelers. As you can see, we had a rough night here and intend to leave quickly. Please don’t bother us.” He declared his intention to disappear quietly, but the old man’s expression twisted into something strange. Instinctively, Kang-soe grabbed Yeom-gon’s arm and pulled him forward. “Hurry up! Stop dawdling.”

“Perhaps it would be better to pause and hear what he has to say.”

“Do you hear the nonsense coming out of your own mouth, Hyung-nim?! Did you not see the things crawling around this village?! I don’t want to stay here a single second longer!”

Tugging at his meager sideburns in pure distress, Kang-soe freaked out, but Yeom-gon remained utterly unfazed. Just as Kang-soe was about to scream at him to move, his morning escape plan flashed through his mind.

Wasn’t I going to run away when he wasn’t looking?

This was the perfect excuse.

“I am not curious in the slightest. If you are so desperate to hear a story, Hyung-nim, stay and listen. I will wait for you outside the village!”

He claimed he would wait, but he fully intended to run for the hills.

Adjusting his heavy pack, Kang-soe cautiously backed away. Before Yeom-gon could utter a word of protest, Kang-soe spun around and sprinted with all his might. He didn’t care that the muddy ground was slippery. He nearly wiped out a few times, but digging his toes into the earth and kicking off violently kept him upright. A man who had planted rice in flooded paddies his whole life wasn’t bothered by a little mud. He rushed blindly down the path.

He didn’t care about the snails perched on the rotting roofs, or the ones hiding between the jangdokdae clay pots, revealing only their eyestalks. He wasn’t afraid of the ones slowly creeping toward him from all directions. They were sluggish, and it was broad daylight; the terror of the night had vanished. Dodging them nimbly, he crested a low hill, leaving the encroaching creatures behind. However, he must have taken a wrong turn, as the path sloped upward instead of downward. He had apparently run in the exact opposite direction of the exit.

“Damn it.”

A curse slipped out, but he didn’t care. The sheer euphoria of escaping that hellhole sent tremors through his body. Kang-soe shook as if mid-urination, then resumed his trek. Pulling a wooden walking stick from his pack, he hacked through the tall grass, suddenly realizing an eerie absence of birdsong.

You’d think I’d hear at least one.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, the dense trail gave way to a clearing—a well-trodden path, devoid of overgrowth and perfectly level. Following it, a charred, blackened house soon came into view. The soot-covered ruin instantly reminded him of Yeom-gon, who perpetually wore pitch-black clothing. An old idiom about a suspicious bird with a Five-Foot Tail and a Five-Foot Beak flickered through his mind, but his own life was far more precious. What if he stayed with that inscrutable man and ended up devoured whole?

Just as he said—what if he ties me up in my sleep and sells me off to some remote island?

If that happened, he’d never escape. He’d be trapped on a tiny rock, forced to farm tobacco leaves every single day. And since it was an island with no other men, only lonely women who would seek him out every night to…

But wait, what if the island has no women and is just swarming with other men?

The mere thought made him gag. Imagining the overwhelming stench of sour sweat, Kang-soe chuckled darkly to himself—until his eyes locked onto something agonizingly familiar. Black robes. A pale, bloodless face. A crooked, mocking smirk far too vivid to be an illusion. The man waved at him from the distance, and Kang-soe’s feet rooted themselves to the ground.

Do I run?

The thought was brief, the action immediate. Kang-soe spun around and bolted, hearing a distant voice call out, “Little brother!” He ran like a madman, legs pumping furiously, yet he didn’t seem to move forward. He was pounding the earth with all his might, but as if the ground beneath him were a spinning wheel, the distance between him and the charred house refused to grow.

No. He couldn’t run away from Yeom-gon.

What kind of goblin trickery is this?

In broad daylight, no less!

Cold sweat poured down his face. Oh god. Oh god! Feet, don’t fail me now! Drawing on every ounce of strength he possessed, he sprinted desperately, only to hear the unmistakable rustle of grass parting. The steady, measured crunch of approaching footsteps made Kang-soe’s mouth go bone-dry.

“You said you would wait outside the village, so I waited outside the village. Why are you running away?”

He had absolutely no retort.

In the blink of an eye, Yeom-gon stood directly in front of him, gently grasping his hand. The hold felt light, yet it was an iron vice. As Kang-soe stood frozen with his head bowed, Yeom-gon called out in that terrifyingly affectionate tone.

“Little brother.”

“…”

“Little brother. Answer me.”

What would happen if he didn’t answer? Kang-soe didn’t possess the courage to find out.

“…Yes, Hyung-nim.”

Hearing his docile submission, Yeom-gon asked softly, “Why did you run away the moment you saw me?”

“…”

“Are you still angry with me?”

You grab a man’s pride in the dead of night and humiliate him, and you wonder why I’m mad? The reasoning felt slightly skewed, but Kang-soe shook his head. While it was true he felt violated, that wasn’t the primary reason for his escape. Simply put, Kang-soe was terrified of this man. Yeom-gon clearly held the key to finding the Five-Foot Tail, Five-Foot Beak, but placing his trust in him felt incredibly dangerous.

Or maybe I just don’t want to trust him.

When Kang-soe remained silent, head bowed, Yeom-gon called out “Little brother!” once more and forced him to make eye contact.

“Are you afraid of me, little brother?”

“…”

Honestly, it would be stranger not to be afraid. Even a grown man feels fear. He was just pretending to be brave. As Kang-soe shifted his eyes nervously, his lips parting but producing no sound, Yeom-gon leaned in and whispered, commanding him to answer.

“I am afraid. This lowly one is terrified of you, Hyung-nim.”

“Why is that?”

“…I don’t know the exact reason, but just… whenever you scowl, Hyung-nim, it’s horrifying.”

His smile was terrifying. His kindness was terrifying. It wasn’t constant, but even when they were laughing together, a chilling, murderous aura would occasionally bleed through. He had never laid a finger on Kang-soe, yet Kang-soe feared him to his core.

“I have never treated you harshly, not even once.”

Was he about to accuse him of being an ungrateful wretch? But Kang-soe had a counterargument ready.

“But last night, you grabbed my manhood and mocked me, didn’t you?!”

While it wasn’t exactly mockery, Yeom-gon’s voice asking if he was still a virgin echoed vividly in his mind. Kang-soe must have muttered the complaint aloud without realizing it, because one of Yeom-gon’s eyebrows arched.

“Are you angry because I asked if you were a virgin?”

“…”

“I suppose you could be. But I assure you, I did not find your innocence amusing in the slightest.”

How could anyone find it amusing? Yeom-gon spoke gently, his voice as sweet as the honey pastry they had shared.

“Then why did you ask?”

Yeom-gon fell silent. He moistened his lips with his tongue, then began to gently stroke Kang-soe’s shoulder.

“Wouldn’t you feel rather strange, thinking some other bastard or bitch had fondled it before me?”

Yeom-gon calmly explained that touching another man’s member had been a significant psychological burden for him as well, and suggested they mutually agree to forget the entire incident. Why would it matter if someone else touched it? The reasoning was baffling, but the delivery was so icy and absolute that Kang-soe dared not argue. Truthfully, bringing the incident up repeatedly wasn’t pleasant for Kang-soe either, so he nodded in eager agreement.

“If you are so bothered because I was the first to touch you there, then I simply need to take responsibility.”

“How exactly do you plan to take responsibility, Hyung-nim? Are you going to find me a pretty bride?”

Are you going to find me a wife while we search for yours? The moment the words left his mouth, Kang-soe winced and studied the man’s face, but Yeom-gon didn’t seem offended. The corners of his mouth were relaxed, finally putting Kang-soe at ease.

“A bride, you say,” Yeom-gon paused, turning the thought over, before flashing that picture-perfect, serene smile. Yes, why would that be difficult? I shall try my absolute best, he declared.

Kang-soe knew it was likely empty talk, but the mere promise lifted his spirits, his cheeks twitching with suppressed joy. You really have to find me a beautiful one, he stressed, to which Yeom-gon simply pulled him into a one-armed embrace and patted his shoulder.

Turning back to the path, they resumed walking.

However, the moment Kang-soe realized they were heading back toward the village he had just fled, the color drained from his face. In the midst of their conversation, he had completely forgotten his grand escape plan.

Even if I try to run now, he already caught me once. I can’t exactly shake him off again.

He had witnessed Yeom-gon’s monstrous strength firsthand that morning.

Is it because he’s a nobleman?

Whether he was true nobility or not, even Kang-soe’s dull mind recognized that Yeom-gon’s attire and bearing were far from ordinary. Resigning himself to the fact that running was impossible, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Are you still afraid of the snails?”

Staring at the approaching blackened house in pure dread, Kang-soe barely registered the question. What? he asked, turning to meet Yeom-gon’s gaze.

Leaning in close, Yeom-gon smiled softly and repeated the question, “Are you afraid of the snails? Or are you afraid of me?”