"You''re not supposed to y with Hwayeo, or else the yokai wille for you at night."


    "Is that true, Hwayeo?"


    "Kyeng?"


    "See? Even Hwayeo agrees. Come on, let''s go."


    The mother fox pulled her child away from the young Hwayeo, who waved cheerfully, unaware of the true meaning behind their words. The Hoyo n barely gave Hwayeo a second nce, treating her like a background figure. asionally, however, someone would approach her.


    "Hwayeo, could you go lure the yokai out for us? We need to go hunting."


    "Kyeng!"


    Hwayeo, eager for the attention and happy to be spoken to, responded innocently.


    As she prepared to leave the fox den, a gust of wind made her hesitate. Despite answering quickly, she couldn’t shake the fear creeping up inside her. She thought about asking someone to apany her, but the hunters just smiled, tilting their heads as if they didn’t understand.


    "What''s the matter? Is something wrong?"


    "Kyeng..."


    "Night will fall soon. If you dy, even more yokai will appear. You need to hurry and finish before then."


    Unable to read the true intent behind their smiles, Hwayeo only saw kindness. Without further hesitation, she dashed out of the den.


    And so, Hwayeo became the fox den''s convenient tool.


    She was used to scare children into behaving and also as bait to lure the yokai for hunting expeditions. She couldn''t speak and never said no, making her the most convenient tool they could imagine.


    That night, Hwayeo returned after fulfilling her role. By the time she had shaken off the yokai, the sun had long set. When she arrived back at the vige, the hunters had returned well before her. The vige was filled with the smell of roasting meat—clearly, they were celebrating a sessful hunt.


    "Oh, you''re back already."


    "Kyeng!"


    "Good job. Here, eat this and rest a little."


    Excited by the thought that she might get to eat some meat tonight, Hwayeo’s hopes were dashed when the man tossed a few shriveled, bug-eaten potatoes onto the ground. She blinked, staring at the rolling potatoes, before looking up again—only to see the man already walking away.


    He didn’t look back even once as he returned to his house. Shortly after, she could hearughter and cheerful voicesing from within, seeping through the windows.


    Sitting on the ground, Hwayeo waited.


    "Kyeng."


    She lowered her head and began eating the potatoes.


    Days like this repeated endlessly, and Lin, who had been watching silently, let out a small sigh.


    "So annoying."


    She had expected something special, but instead, the same meaningless scene yed out in an endless loop. And she couldn’t intervene.


    Whenever she tried to leave Baekun Valley, she found herself back at the fox den. It was as if something here needed to be resolved before she could move forward.


    But what could she possibly resolve in this tiny fox den? It wasn’t hard to guess. Lin headed underground.


    Following in the elder’s footsteps, she easily found the shrine.


    There, unlike before, there was no dust. And sitting on the altar, she saw a fox. It was a familiar yet unfamiliar sight.@@novelbin@@


    The fox tossed the golden fox bead around like a toy, its irreverence almost offensive. But anyone who knew her wouldn’t think it disrespectful—for this was the true owner of the bead.


    The fox, who resembled Lin yet wasrger in every way—especially in the chest—and had nine tails instead of Lin’s five, greeted her.


    "Hey there, little one. Did youe for this? Too bad—it’s mine."


    "Is there a need to call me ‘little one’? You are me."


    "Don’t get it twisted. I never lived in such a pathetic way, never craved affection, and I was never weak like you."


    "Then why were you sealed away? Wasn’t it because you were too weak?"


    "......"


    The Gumiho fell silent, and Lin smiled triumphantly.


    "If it were me, I wouldn’t have been sealed away. What a weakling~"


    "Shut up, or I’ll break this bead."


    "Touchy, aren’t we?"


    Lin stopped teasing her, knowing it would be problematic if the Gumiho actually followed through on her threat.


    Though the Gumiho denied their connection, Lin knew better. The ease of their conversation, the familiarity—they were undeniably the same.


    Even if she didn’t particrly like it.


    "Lin doesn’t want to end up old like you."


    "If you hang around ugly creatures long enough, you’ll turn out like this."


    "Ugly creatures?"


    "There were some... the ones who betrayed me and pledged themselves to the heavens."


    The Gumiho’s gaze drifted far beyond the shrine’s walls, and Lin had a vague idea of what she was thinking about. But Lin quickly dismissed the thought—what mattered now was the fox bead.


    "Lin’s in a hurry. My master is waiting outside."


    The Gumiho looked at Lin like she was some kind of slimy creature stuck to the ground.


    "Why are you looking at me like that? It’s annoying."


    "A Gumiho as someone’s ve... I can’t believe this is real. Even after all these years, this is still the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Maybe I should just take over your body and kill you..."


    Lin’s face twisted into a scowl at the Gumiho’s muttered words.


    "If you try that, you won’t survive either."


    "I’m just a remnant spirit. If I try that, it’ll just hurt you, not me."


    Even as she spoke the truth, Lin’s expression remained resolute, as if she’d go as far as self-harm to prevent it. The Gumiho smirked, savoring Lin’s emotions like a predator tasting prey.


    "Alright, enough fun."


    Having enjoyed herself, the Gumiho hopped off the altar, holding out the fox bead.


    Lin, suspicious but eager to take the bead, reached out, only for the Gumiho to toss it behind her.


    "Ah!"


    Lin let out a frustrated cry as the bead slipped from her grasp. But before it hit the ground, itnded gracefully on one of the Gumiho’s tails.


    The Gumiho twirled her tail teasingly, ying with the bead.


    "You...!"


    "You’ve got such a range of expressions. You’re nothing like me at all."


    The Gumihoughed, then held out the bead once more.


    This time, Lin cautiously epted the bead, eyeing the Gumiho warily. For a moment, she thought it was going to be easy—but as soon as she touched it, the same brilliant light from before exploded from the bead.


    The space around them began to warp.


    "What’s happening?"


    "You’re going back to where you belong."


    "What was the trial?"


    "The trial was to impress me. And you did."


    A trial based on the Gumiho’s whims? Lin found that infuriatingly arbitrary, but even though she’d passed, it left a bitter taste in her mouth.


    The Gumiho chuckled, clearly amused by her frustration.


    "Now, off you go. You can see your precious master again."


    With that, light filled Lin’s vision, and the space around her twisted until itpletely copsed.


    With a burst of radiant light, the shrine was illuminated once more. Lin’s body was engulfed by the glow, and then, like a snake shedding its skin, the light cracked and peeled away, leaving fragments in the air.


    The glow faded.


    Lin blinked slowly, her senses returning to the musty smell of the real shrine. She was back.


    "It’s over, isn’t it?"


    Behind her, Karamir and the elder stood, looking just as they had before she’d touched the bead. Though it had felt like a long time, it seemed the trial had no effect on the real world.


    "Looks like it."


    "Congrattions. You’re now a six-tailed fox."


    Lin checked her tails—sure enough, she now had six. Not only that, her body had grown too.


    Her figure had matured noticeably, with her curves bing more prominent, even through her clothes. She was one step closer to the Gumiho she had just seen.


    Lin nced down at her chest.


    "They were bigger, though."


    Would she grow like that when she became a Gumiho?


    Not a bad thing. As a Gumiho, she could use her charm as a weapon—a powerful tool to seduce her master.


    "The fox bead is gone."


    Lin looked at her hand. The bead she had been holding had vanished, but she could feel it.


    "It’s inside me."


    The fox bead had been absorbed into Lin’s own. She could feel an unfamiliar energy swirling within her core.


    It was warm, like the sun, but with a shadowy undertone—a fragment of the Gumiho’s power.


    <em>Hmm... Is this your master? Not that impressive.</em>


    A voice echoed in Lin’s mind, startling her. The ethereal form of the Gumiho slithered out of Lin and wrapped herself around Karamir like a snake.


    <em>His face is alright, and I sense the World Tree’s energy. Interesting, but nothing more. The rest of him is...cking. He won’tst long like this.</em>


    "W-What are you doing here?" Lin eximed.


    <em>What do you mean? You took my power, didn’t you? What, did you think it was free? I’ll be borrowing your body for a while to see the world.</em>


    "You didn’t mention that!"


    <em>Contracts are all about reading the fine print, kid. If you don’t like it, give it back.</em>


    Even if she wanted to, Lin couldn’t. The Gumiho’s power was already mixed with her own, inseparable.


    The Gumiho knew that, of course, which is why she was so smug about it.


    "What’s happening?" Karamir asked.


    "What’s happening? The Gumiho is here!" Lin shouted.


    "The Gumiho’s always been here," the elder replied calmly, looking directly at Lin as if she were the Gumiho.


    The elder couldn’t see or sense the Gumiho at all.


    <em>Only you can see me because you’ve inherited my power. No one else can.</em>


    "I can see you," Karamir said.


    <em>Huh?</em>


    The Gumiho blinked in confusion, locking eyes with Karamir. He could clearly see her.


    <em>Why can you see me?</em>


    "I’m Lin’s master. Anything to do with Lin, I know about."


    <em>...I see. You’re connected by that soul chain. That exins it.</em>


    The Gumiho''s assessment of Karamir shifted slightly. He wasn’t an ordinary man, after all.


    But she almost pitied him. He’d soon learn the hard way just how foolish it was to enve a Gumiho.