Little Pink Starfish

Prologue

The cigarette neatly tucked between the lips fell with a flick.
It was a brand-new one, not even lit yet, but there wasn’t even a thought that it was a waste.
“Uh…”
A confused syllable leaked out like smoke.
It was because of witnessing an unexpected situation.

Ibi’s startled gaze landed on an alley far off.

“Mmmph! Mmph! Mmm!”

In a strangely dark and shadowy alley, someone was desperately struggling.
They were jumping here and there, seemingly trying hard to beg for their life.
A painful groan leaked out from a mouth stuffed with something.
Now that it was visible, their arms and legs were bent at unnatural angles.

Soon, someone walked out from the shadows.
From the darkness, a white hand shot out and grabbed the hair of the person crawling desperately forward.

Next, a pale face flickered under the dim, blinking streetlamp.
It was a man with an indifferent expression.

While Ibi stared wide-eyed, the man smashed the person’s head on the ground without mercy, still holding onto their hair.
It was a violent act with no hint of hesitation.
Ibi let out a faint groan, tightly closing their eyes, and then cautiously peeked through a slit, afraid of seeing something terrifying.

Despite the brutal assault, the victim thrashed madly.
As the man violently slammed the struggling body, the hood he was wearing fell back.
Ibi, as if hypnotized, peeked at the man’s fully revealed face under the streetlight.

There was no expression on his face.
His sleepy-looking eyes held a hollow gaze, and his well-balanced, sharply defined features were attractive.
But unlike his looks, his aura was menacing and eerie.
Every time he moved, the many piercings and earrings on his ears glittered vividly, demanding attention.

Finally, the man who had completely subdued the victim reached into his cargo pants.
He pulled out a thin red rope from the pocket above his right thigh.
A chilling murderous aura surfaced on his pale face.

With practiced hands, he quickly wrapped the rope around the victim’s neck and began to tighten it with all his might.
The veins on his hand bulged blue from the effort, and the strangled victim made bizarre choking sounds.
Behind the man calmly murdering without emotion, something like a thick rope thrashed wildly, then gradually stilled.

Just then, Ibi, who had been watching, came to their senses and backed away.
Something like an empty drink can was kicked by their heel, making a loud crashing sound.
The man, focused on the kill, looked up.
Afraid their eyes might meet, Ibi pressed against the wall in a panic.
A chill ran through their body, and their heart pounded wildly.

After an unpleasant cracking sound, came a snapping noise.
Footsteps—thud, thud—slowly approached.

Moments later…

When the man appeared at the spot where the noise had come from, no one was there.
His black eyes slowly scanned the area, then stopped at one place.
It was a white cigarette, unused, someone had dropped on the ground.
The man bent over and picked up the cigarette, brought it close to his face.

A faint sweet scent came from it.

The man bit the cigarette between his lips without hesitation, slowly chewing on the filter.
As the bitterness spread, a strange curve rose on his lips, like a crescent moon.

---

Chapter 1 – Candy Goblin

A cracked glass jar had long been buried underground.
Thanks to a raccoon digging around for acorns or worms, it got unearthed and caught some sunlight and moonlight, allowing it to sprout a tiny sense of self.
But it wasn’t even enough to rattle its own body—just barely enough to sense its surroundings.

As time passed, the cracks deepened, and its clear glow faded.

Then one day, a noble scholar passing by on horseback found the cracked glass jar.
The jar awakened from a long sleep as the scholar gently dusted off the dirt and picked it up.
The scholar looked at the object in his hand and murmured to himself in thought.

“Should I save it? …It’s not really alive, though.”

Not knowing what the human was pondering, the cracked glass jar instinctively welcomed the touch.

“…But then, what does it mean to be alive?”

After deep thought, the scholar finally made a decision.
He bit his finger to draw blood, took one of the long, hanging beads from his waist, smeared it with his blood, and placed it inside the jar.
And thus, the goblin of the glass jar was born.

🍬

Ibi trudged in through the door and sank into the sofa.
A sigh of “Aigoo…” slipped out.
Their heart was still pounding.
As they lay groaning and fidgeting on the sofa, Dongjitdal, who had been absorbed in a mobile game, finally noticed Ibi had come in.

“Ibi!”

He trotted over and squished his large body next to Ibi, looking at them with a worried expression.
Soon, Soil and Sowol also came close, peering at Ibi with curiosity.

“Ibi-nim, are you sick? Should we call the King?”

“Yeah, you have to be careful. You’re a rare type, remember?”

Then Sowol paused to think, and said with a dreamy look:

“I really love that Ibi is a rare type…”

Lost in thought, recalling the earlier scene, Ibi turned over at those words.
Half-opening their eyes, they leaned their chin on a hand and quietly looked at Sowol.
After exhaling to catch their breath, they blinked slowly a couple of times.

With flawless white skin, a neat forehead, soft eyes partly hidden by bangs, and naturally pink lips, Ibi had a handsome, beautiful face.
In a gentle, sweet voice, Ibi asked:

“Sowol, isn’t it even better that the rare type is also good-looking?”

“Of course! Ibi is the best!”

“I love you too, Sowol!”

Ibi smiled brightly and made a heart shape with their fingers.
Dongjitdal gave Sowol a sharp glare.
When Ibi sent a loving finger heart to Dongjitdal as well, he made a reluctant face.
Finally calming their racing heart, Ibi sat up.
Watching Ibi’s expression closely, Sowol tilted their head.

“Ibi, did something really happen?”

“I went out for a smoke earlier… and saw a hunter hunting. It was my first time seeing that.”

As Ibi spoke, they shivered.
Dongjitdal opened his eyes wide in shock and was about to scold them when a cool voice echoed through the room.

“…Hunter?”

“Igok-nim!”

A ghostly blue flame rose in the air, and Ibi’s face lit up with joy.
The blue flame fell like mud and pooled into a puddle, then flared up into a large form.
As the blue fire faded, a man appeared.

He looked very attractive and appeared human but gave off a strange, indescribable aura that made it clear he was not human.
It wasn’t just about being beautiful—he had a natural power that drew others in.
The Mangryang King was born to both terrify and captivate humans.

“Oh, Mangryang King.”

Soil gave a proper bow.
Sowol smiled and greeted him as “Your Majesty,” to which the King nodded.
Then he calmly looked at Ibi and asked again.

“A hunter? What do you mean?”

Before answering, Ibi recalled what had happened.

They had gone out for a smoke but didn’t have a cigarette on hand.
While strolling to a convenience store, they heard strange groans.
Curious, they followed the sound—and witnessed the scene.
After hearing this, Soil tilted their head.

“Hunting openly in the city at this hour… maybe a new hunter?”

That puzzled Ibi too.
Hunters usually preferred places where people wouldn’t see them.
If caught in the act, the celestial army would come and seize valuable offerings.
And that was the best-case scenario.
Soil asked:

“So what was the hunter hunting?”

“Well… I didn’t get a good look, but it seemed like it had a rat tail.”

Ibi dug through their memory.
They had run away quickly, but they clearly saw a large rat tail flailing.

“If it was a Sosaengwon (rat spirit)… well, nothing to worry about.”

Rat spirits are a main target for hunters.
They blend into human society and cause harm.
Goblin types, on the other hand, rarely get hunted.
They’re under the protection of the Mangryang King and offer no real benefit if hunted.
But Sowol firmly shook their head at Ibi’s carefree attitude.

“No, Ibi, you really do need to be careful. You’re not just any goblin.”

Ibi simply smiled at that.
He truly was different.
That’s why Sowol affectionately called him a rare type.
Unlike his kind, who could only act at night, Ibi could move around during the day.
There were many other oddities about him too.

“Sowol, how would a hunter know that? And even if they did, what could they do to me?”

Ibi replied gently, still smiling.
He had been shocked and shaken by witnessing the hunter, but not terrified.
…Well, honestly, maybe a little scared.
Seeing this, Igok scolded him.

“Sowol’s right. If there’s profit, humans will hunt and destroy anything.
There’s no harm in being cautious.”

“Yes, if that’s what Your Majesty says.”

Ibi bowed his head obediently and answered with a soft smile.
Still, his mind wandered back to the hunter.
He had seen beings that killed non-humans before.
But something about this hunter sparked curiosity.
Maybe because it was the first one he’d ever seen…

Lost in thought, Ibi suddenly realized it was now completely dark outside.

“It’s time for everyone to wake up.”

Faint blue lights flickered to life here and there.
Their shimmering was both lively and eerie.
Ibi followed behind Igok.
There were strange sounds like singing, laughing children, or whispering.
It was the sound of beings who sleep at sunrise and wake with the moon.

Old, antique objects, out of place in this modern building, were scattered about.
As Igok passed, these objects, made of wood and ceramics, reacted to the King—shaking, rattling, glowing with blue fire.

Mangryang—goblins—were waking up all at once.

This tall building, noisy with goblins waking each night, was also known to the world as Dobi Entertainment.
It was the nest of a huge group of strange beings who loved humans, wanted to be loved by them, and play with them.

Ibi went up to the second floor, leaned on the railing, and looked down at the lobby, pulling out the cigarette he bought earlier.
As he lit it, he recalled the hunter again.
He suddenly remembered he had dropped a cigarette back there.

It felt wasteful—and a little unsettling.

“No way a cigarette that wasn’t even lit could be used for something… right?”

Brushing off his worries like cigarette ash, Ibi relaxed and watched the goblins and spirits mingle.
Smoke floated up from his lips in grand clouds.

Thoughts of the hunter faded away like smoke.
As always, he muttered his centuries-old wish:

“I hope I can meet the scholar again soon…”

The cigarette smoke rose and scattered into the shapes of countless butterflies.
Through half-closed eyelids, Ibi’s eyes were filled with longing.