Chapter 18 

“San-gun. You need to explain now. What was all that about?”

The fox, disguised in human form, dusted off his clothes and frowned at me.

“…Remember what I told you? The Blood Cult captured you, Jimjo, and me—and used us however they wanted.”

“…Yeah. I still don’t want to believe it, but you said so.”

The fox looked disturbed—part confusion, part displeasure.
But I wasn’t finished.

“Until now, I didn’t explain everything because recovering my strength came first. But now that I’m at about ten percent, we need to start planning carefully.”

“San-gun… I hate to say it, but… ten percent is nothing. Compared to the qi you originally had…”

“I know. It’s nowhere near enough. But do you remember the promise I made? I told you I’d do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t get killed by the Blood Cult.”

“And I promised that I’d help you until you get revenge.”

“Good. That’s why I have to say this:
You get into a fatal incident within a year.”

The fox blinked slowly.

“…What?”

“I don’t know exactly how far back in time I came, but my best guess is around ten years. If we use that as the baseline, then there’s about a year left until the time when I lost contact with you.”

The fox froze.

I continued calmly.

“You were the leader of the Hao Clan—head of a secretive, bat-like information network. Think about it. How do you think the Blood Cult views a sect that controls intelligence?”

“…”

“If it were me? I’d kill the leader and replace them.
Or capture them and turn them into a puppet.”

“…Damn it.”

The fox swore under his breath and ran a hand through his hair.

“And from what I saw, you always wore a mask. How many Hao Clan members actually know your face?”

“…Only the executives.”

“And what if the Blood Cult wipes them out too, or turns them into puppets?”

“…Shit.”

I shrugged.

“It’s just a hypothesis. Back then, I never left the mountains. I didn’t even know you’d been captured until after I was taken.”

But there was still something bothering me.

“The problem is that I’ve already changed things by coming to the past. We haven’t had direct contact with the Blood Cult yet, but something must have shifted. Since we don’t know how things changed, I can’t let you wander around alone.”

“…So you’re saying I need to move carefully. Fine. I get it. They’re dangerous.”

The fox scowled deeply.

“Ha… But San-gun, if I can’t get herbs, your recovery will be even slower.”

“Which means we need a new plan. You can’t go alone. And if I go now, I’ll only slow you down—or worse.”

“Then…”

The fox and I stared at each other.

It seemed we both arrived at the same idea.

“If the problem is moving alone, then the solution is—don’t move alone.”

“Exactly. Someone should go with you.”

A certain spirit beast came to mind—someone skilled with poison and thus extremely useful for safety.

The fox lifted me into his arms.

“Ready to head out?”

“Go ahead.”

“Hold on tight. I’m getting out of here fast.”

The fox loaded qi into his legs, pushed off the ground—

And sprinted like the wind.

“Wuhwuhwuhwuhwuh—!”

Ugh. This tiny human body makes my cheeks wobble in the wind!

***

Jimjo—The Poison Bird

The Jimjo was a poisonous bird feared by humans since ancient times.

Poison was its only means of survival.
Its claws and beak were weak—so its venom was everything.

But humans feared it so much that they would burn entire mountains just to kill one.

Yet they also coveted its deadly feathers.

So the few surviving Jimjo hid in remote places humans couldn’t reach.

One such Jimjo, disguised as a crow, preened its feathers on a tree near Cheonwolru.

It followed San-gun.

San-gun’s kindness and gentleness made it feel safe, and so it had stayed with him.

One day, San-gun warned Jimjo:

[When I go to the human world, you’re coming too.]

[Me? Why?]

Humans will want you. In the near future, you’re going to be captured by them.]

If any other spirit beast had said this, Jimjo would’ve laughed.

But this was San-gun.

San-gun never said things without reason.
Even when irritated by the fox, she was always calm and composed.

Even after she turned into a baby tiger, Jimjo believed her. Something in her aura—shrunken but still distinct—proved she was truly San-gun.

Still…

San-gun was different now.

Sometimes cold, sharp eyes filled with a strange shadow—especially when talking about the Blood Cult.

Jimjo had felt fear.

[Is it because she saw the future?]

Was San-gun someone who truly had special abilities?

Could she see ahead?
Or perhaps she had really gone back in time to fix what went wrong?

Jimjo had decided:

It would help. No matter what.

After all, San-gun had saved it once.

Being in the noisy, smelly human world was bearable for her sake.

Jimjo remained disguised as a crow so it wouldn’t draw attention.

Then—

Jimjo caught sight of something strange.

It saw the fox disguised as a human.

And beside him… a human child.

A child?
The fox never kept children near him.

Jimjo had just begun to feel confused when San-gun’s familiar voice rang in its mind.

Jimjo! Come here for a moment!]

San-gun?!

Jimjo flew down immediately.

San-gun’s human form was shocking, but even more shocking was that she’d adapted enough to use fox-style shapeshifting at all.

Just how dangerous was the Blood Cult?

Jimjo glared at the fox.

[Fox. Why didn’t you STOP, San-gun? She’s wearing a human form—!]

[San-gun wanted it.]

[Right. I asked for it. Don’t blame the fox.]

[S-San-gun…]

Flustered, Jimjo faltered. San-gun soothed it by stroking its back.

[Now then. You called me? What do you need?

[What do you need, San-gun?]

[I’m sorry, but can you accompany the fox for a while?]

Jimjo stared at the fox.

[…I can, but… biologically? Emotionally? Absolutely not.]

You think I want this? It’s all for San-gun’s safety.]

It’s safer for both of you. No need to take risks.]

[Why must I go with that pompous peacock of a creature?!]

Jimjo bristled—then forced itself to breathe.

[…Fine. It’s San-gun’s request. I’ll tolerate being around this flashy idiot.]

Flashy? Ha! Do I look like some gaudy bird? I am a fox—swift and clever, not some vain decoration.

[Oh please. Is “sneaky and good at running away” supposed to be a compliment?]

Look who’s talking! You spend all your time circling from afar like some dramatic diva.

[What did you say?!]

Enough. Both of you. You need to work together, not fight.

They stared at each other, then looked away with identical scoffs.

Finally, Jimjo sighed, spread its wings, and landed on the fox’s shoulder.

[Fine. Let’s get this over with. I don’t want to stay next to him longer than necessary.]

[…Says the bird who looks like it bathes in poison.]

Watching the two bicker, the child-shaped San-gun exhaled a short sigh.

Expected. Inevitable.
But this was still the best plan—for many reasons.