The Dokkaebi Waiting for the Moon

Chapter 12

“Not yet.”

“Ah. So that’s why you keep luring him with new menus… This is no ordinary effort.”

Park Jeongbae finally exclaimed in admiration, realizing that if it was just about having meals, Moon-beom could have eaten at the inn’s restaurant. He hadn’t understood why Moon-beom chose to cook himself instead of using such a convenient method.

“But, Boss, aren’t you scared staying alone in a place without electricity? It seems like ghosts might appear at night. It’s not like you’re filming a horror experience YouTube video. You’re really going through a lot.”

At this innocent question without malice, Moon-beom tilted his head slightly.

“Park Jeongbae.”

“Yes?”

“You don’t look it, but you’re more of a coward than I thought. I know someone in the military – want to re-enlist in the Marines? To toughen up that weak courage of yours that’s worse than a twenty-year-old, no, a fifteen-year-old kid’s.”

“Ah, no, no, I was an Air Force driver and saw many ghosts while driving at night! I’m not scared of those things at all!”

Park Jeongbae shuddered, apparently finding re-enlistment more terrifying than ghosts. Moon-beom glanced at his desperate expression as if begging to spare him from that, and slowly spoke.

“So what’s there to be scared of? Mere ghosts. Humans are far scarier.”

Raising one corner of his lips, he added,

“Like me, who makes a living by selling people.”

Once, Moon-beom had been called “worse than a beast” by a gambler who was sold to an organ trafficking organization after signing a body abandonment agreement and incurring a huge debt.

Having become a monster himself to take revenge on the monster wearing human skin, what was there to fear, be it ghosts or dokkaebis?

“I’ll handle things myself, so don’t meddle and just do your job well. Like now.”

Moon-beom patted Park Jeongbae’s shoulder. It meant this was as far as he would allow interference beyond the line.

“Yes! I’ll work hard on whatever you entrust to me!”

Park Jeongbae, who had heard plenty of infamous rumors about the manager of the private gambling den operated by the organization, shouted as loudly as he could. At times like this, shouting loyalty without any objection was the right answer.

“You can go back now.”

“Yes, Boss. Rest well.”

Moon-beom, holding the ice box, walked through the gate, leaving behind Park Jeongbae who was bowing deeply at a 90-degree angle.

Soon, quick footsteps that revealed his personality could be heard. There were no screams, suggesting no unexpected encounters with the half-dokkaebi.

He felt a bit disappointed that he couldn’t see the thrillingly exciting dokkaebi fire.

* * *

Slurp—

The brown liquid in the transparent disposable cup was sucked up through the black straw. Soon, the cup revealing its bottom was left with only small and large water droplets before being mercilessly crumpled in Moon-beom’s hand.

“…He’s not coming back.”

It was about time to start preparing dinner. As the house owner showed no signs of returning no matter how long he waited, Moon-beom passed straight through the kitchen and headed for the gate. He intended to go out and search for Eun-hwi himself.

Even if he had become an adult, his core was still that of a five-year-old kid. He had left him alone, thinking he would return when it was time after playing in the mountains, but it seemed he had thought wrong. Something felt off.

Did he realize and run away already?

…That can’t be.

Moon-beom shook his head. Eun-hwi didn’t seem clever enough to secretly run away after realizing he was the prize for the bet placed by the jangseung dokkaebi. He was a naive and dull being who firmly believed an ordinary sports bag was a magic bag.

“Where could he have gone, our baby dokkaebi?”

He wouldn’t have been able to go down to the village with Yang Jincheol and Jeon Sunam standing guard.

Remembering that Eun-hwi had once picked flowers to do flower fortune-telling, Moon-beom started climbing the forest path densely lined with trees, looking for the flower bed where evening primroses bloomed.

Caw! Caw!

Not long after he started walking, four crows suddenly flapped their wings and flew up over his head. Moon-beom furrowed his brow at the sudden appearance of the flock of birds. Their echoing cries grated on his nerves.

“What the hell. How annoying.”

For some reason, his mood turned foul. So much that he wanted to break their wings to prevent them from ever flying into the sky again.

“…Sob.”

It was then, as he stopped momentarily and irritably brushed back his bangs. A faint, fragile sob brushed past Moon-beom’s ear.

A voice as clear as pure water without any impurities. The young dokkaebi’s voice. The blue veins on the back of his hand, visible through his hair, swelled thickly.

“…Damn it.”

He hurriedly moved to find the source of the sound. Soon, a small white figure curled up and trembling near the start of a sloped path came into his view.

“Eun-hwi!”

The hanbok, which had been washed clean by boiling in lye, was now covered in dirt, and the pants, torn in places as if by something, were faintly stained with blood.

The moment he witnessed the traces of violence on the small body, his vision blurred as if he was experiencing vertigo.

How dare they, without my permission…

He hadn’t even properly assessed the dokkaebi’s abilities yet. In a situation where he couldn’t rule out the possibility of his usefulness, if Eun-hwi became disillusioned with human existence and hid somewhere, his long-planned revenge would turn to bubbles.

He had to immediately find the humans who had damaged the prize for the bet and hold them accountable and punish them. The killing intent he had barely suppressed began to boil towards its boiling point.

“Which bastard did this to you.”

At the voice, terribly cold as if ice had formed, Eun-hwi lifted his head that had been bowed all this time. The scent of mint, still unfamiliar to the dokkaebi but attracting his heart, seeped into his nose.

“Moon-beom…”

A teardrop hanging from his black, oily eyelashes fell with a plop, like a falling flower petal.

Even if the perception of time was different from humans, the fact that he had spent ten years alone remained unchanged. Eun-hwi, who had always embraced sorrow and loneliness, grieving alone as usual, quietly looked at the being who had called his name.

The expectation towards others, which he thought had been left only as lost property after parting with Gabi, gathered into small dewdrops and flowed out. A light of relief appeared on his face, stained with tears, dust, and scratches.

“Stop crying and tell me who did this. I’ll go and sweep them all away.”

“No, no. It wasn’t humans. It was the crows. *sob*”

“…Crows?”

Moon-beom, who had been about to explode with anger while grasping Eun-hwi’s delicate shoulders, asked back as if doubting his ears. A thick line was drawn between his eyebrows.

“Yes… They really hate me.”

“Ha. Crows. Those damn crows that were cawing so annoyingly and ruining my mood.”

Moon-beom burst into a hollow laugh, seemingly too dumbfounded to speak. To think that mere birds could reduce a person to such a rag-like state.

Unable to show his face consumed by anger in front of Eun-hwi, he lowered his head deeply and cursed with his eyes cast down.

“I should have torn them all to pieces earlier. Those damn things.”

Eun-hwi’s bloodshot eyes widened at the sudden vulgar language. The shadow of his eyelashes beneath his round eyes trembled uncontrollably.

“…Torn to pieces?”

Indeed, he was no less than a Baekdu Mountain tiger. Thinking that if he had come just a little earlier, a terrible tragedy would have occurred, Eun-hwi felt inwardly relieved. He thought that no matter how much he hated the crows, tearing them to death was too much.

“Don’t be angry, Moon-beom. I transformed into a dokkaebi fire and chased them away.”

“…”

“Moon-beom.”

“…”

“It’s scary when you’re angry. Cheer up, okay?”

“…Am I scary?”

Nod.

Instead of answering, Eun-hwi slowly shook his head. The upturned corners of his eyes and the coldly shining pupils. Compared to his stiffly frozen expression and the chill he was spreading in all directions, the human-faced bird was nothing.

He hoped Moon-beom would soon return to his usual face, smiling and enjoying playful tricks.

“…Your hands are a mess.”

As if saying he wouldn’t talk about the crows anymore, Moon-beom grasped Eun-hwi’s hands. Just a few hours ago, they had been soft and smooth.

“It must have hurt a lot.”

Pulling them towards himself, he blew gently on the back of Eun-hwi’s hands, which had become unsightly with cuts, scratches, and clotted blood. His long-tailed breath softly caressed the wounds.

“Whenever my mother got hurt, I would blow on her wounds like this.”

Moon-beom’s face, suddenly suffused with a vague longing, was languidly relaxed as if he had never been angry. Looking at the wounded hands with wistful eyes, he continued in a voice as calm as gently flowing waves.

“People say it’s not good because germs can enter, but my mother always asked me to blow on her wounds, saying that’s how the pain goes away. She said new flesh only grows when there’s affection overlaid like a bandage. That the more love-hardened a person is, the more numerous scars they have, so she was fine.”

Eun-hwi’s head tilted in confusion, not knowing what germs were, but he listened silently to Moon-beom’s story. Somehow, it felt like he should do so now.

“I told her not to come back injured like that, but she never listened till the end…”

Moon-beom, who had been muttering to himself with a deep sigh as if complaining, suddenly frowned and stared intently at one spot. Eun-hwi’s heart sank at the flashing eyes, like a tiger observing its prey.