Little Pink Starfish

While neatly aligning the documents again for no reason, Ibi thought back to when he first met Igok.

It was Igok who took in and cared for Ibi, who had been deeply shocked and heartbroken after losing the Scholar.
Ibi didn’t want to be hated by the one who had protected and raised a naive, young goblin like him.
But at the same time, he couldn’t let go of his desire to meet the Scholar again.
So in front of the king, Ibi simply remained silent.

To ease the slightly cold atmosphere, Ibi quickly changed the topic.

“Igok-nim, I had a fan meeting today.”

“I see.”

Igok answered while lighting a long-stemmed pipe he pulled from his robe.
Though he held the title of company president, he still dressed in clothes from 500 years ago and had little interest in human affairs.
Ibi doubted if Igok even knew what a fan meeting was, but he calmly continued.

“Strangely, the hunter I mentioned last time came, saying he was a fan.
I almost thought he’d come to hunt me.”

“…That hunter?”

Igok frowned as he blew out a long puff of white smoke.
Maybe recalling something unpleasant from the past,
he irritably tapped the end of his pipe on the document.

“I think he really was a fan.
He gave me snacks and got an autograph.”

“What did he look like?”

“Hmm…”

Relieved that he had successfully changed the subject, Ibi recalled the moment.
The shock of seeing the hunter at the fan meeting was still vivid.

Still… all he could remember was…

“Black eyes, black hair, black mask, black hoodie, black pants…”

Now that he said it, other than being black, there was nothing distinctive.
After squeezing his brain, Ibi added:

“I think he was pretty handsome.”

“That’s a useless description,”

Igok said bluntly, then shoved the documents away as if the matter was done.
He stood up, leaving a white trail of smoke behind him.
Ibi quickly followed behind with light steps.

Igok headed to the top floor of the building.
What should have been the CEO’s office was open, with only a few pillars and no walls.
The place was surrounded by clear glass, letting in sunlight and moonlight,
and old, human-used objects were scattered all around—
objects either waiting to become goblins or recovering.

Igok began taking goblins out of his sleeve and setting them down one by one.
After finishing, he let out a deep sigh and exhaled a long stream of smoke.
The energy-laden smoke spread over the floor like mist.

Once everything was done, he stroked Ibi’s cheek—who had been quietly standing beside him the whole time.

“Always be careful of humans.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Ibi smiled brightly but tilted his head.
Today, Igok’s aura felt darker and heavier than usual.
That meant his mood wasn’t good.

Before Ibi could ask, Igok withdrew his hand.

“…Sleep now.”

It was around bedtime.
Ibi thought about saying more but quietly gave up.
Satisfied, Igok picked up one of the objects laid out.

It was a clear glass jar.
Inside, it was filled with candies, giving off a sweet scent.
All the other goblin vessels were old and worn, but this jar sparkled unnaturally.

Ibi transformed into a blue goblin flame.
The flickering flame swirled around Igok and seeped into the glass jar.
The lid rattled, a few candies rolled around, then it fell quiet.

Igok held the jar for a while, then carefully placed it where the sun and moonlight shone best.
He stood beside it, looking indifferently at the glowing nightscape beyond the glass.
He puffed out clouds of white smoke from his pipe.

Under the protection of the Mangryang King,
the goblins’ cradle became veiled in thick, eerie mist.
Before long, even the king’s figure faded into the fog.

---

🍬

Snoring soundly, Ibi woke up as soon as he sensed the sunlight.
With a grunt, the blue flame rolled out of the glass jar.
Flattened to the floor, it soon took the form of a human sitting on the ground, yawning.

“Good morning, everyone!”

Even knowing no other goblins would be awake, Ibi cheerfully greeted the room.
He dusted off his butt, stretched his slim body, and looked around.
Suddenly, he mumbled to himself.

“I wonder what Igok-nim’s true form is.”

Even after knowing Igok for so long, Ibi had never seen what object he originally was.
He sometimes slept before Igok, but it also seemed Igok didn’t want to show it.

Shrugging off the short-lived curiosity, Ibi began checking the building.
From the top floor, he walked down floor by floor, checking on each goblin that had reverted to its object form after playing all night.
As the only goblin awake during the day, Ibi felt it was his duty to take care of them.

“Ichun-i, Yunbi, I-Guseul-i, Jarubi, Mongbi, uh…”

With several brooms in his arms, Ibi suddenly stopped.
Frowning, he counted again one by one, then folded his arms and tilted his head.

“Hmm? Hmmmmm?”

He walked around the building again, checking the scattered goblin forms.
Then Sowol appeared, looking refreshed, with Dongjitdal dragging himself behind with a dying expression.

Dongjitdal immediately pushed Sowol away and clung close to Ibi, growling,
but Sowol just kept smiling.
Dongjitdal, like Ibi, was one of the “rare types” Sowol liked.

Normally, Ibi would warmly greet them right away, but he was groaning, so Sowol asked curiously:

“Ibi, what’s wrong? Something happened?”

“Two of the kids are missing.”

Even after counting multiple times, two were missing.
Seems they had run off during last night’s false alarm about human blood and hadn’t come back.

Dongjitdal shoved Sowol away again and said bluntly:

“They’ll come back. It’s not like they’re little kids.”

“Yeah, I guess?”

It wasn’t the first time goblins went out to play and didn’t return by morning.
It had happened before.
Ibi set aside his worries and went to his filming schedule.

But even by nightfall, the missing goblins didn’t return.
When the king awoke late that night, Ibi told him the two were gone.
Igok let out a deep sigh, said he would go look around—and then vanished.

And by the next morning, Igok still hadn’t returned.

Ibi didn’t think anything had happened to Igok.
He was the goblin king, and Soil always followed him.
The real worry was the two goblins.

Igok not returning meant… he still hadn’t found them.

“How far did they run…?”

During the day—specifically in their object forms—goblins were extremely vulnerable.
If their object was burned or broken, they would die.
Without Igok’s protection, their numbers would’ve dwindled to less than ten long ago.

Sowol, as usual, didn’t care at all.
Dongjitdal, though, tried hard to comfort the worrying Ibi.

“Goblins don’t taste good. No one would eat them.”

“…Yeah.”

It wasn’t much comfort, but Ibi appreciated the thought.
Actually, what worried him more was whether they’d ended up in a trash bin somewhere.

After much fretting, another day passed.
The next morning, when Igok still hadn’t returned, Ibi jumped to his feet.
There was someone he always went to in times like this—an old friend.

He ran to the parking lot, drove his car, and headed to his friend’s house.
It was a fancy, high-end officetel.
Before he even got to the door, it flung open.
Ibi rushed inside.

“Arang!”

Calling his friend’s name, Ibi ran into his arms,
and the friend caught him naturally, embracing him warmly.
A familiar scent filled the air.

“My cute little fox has come.”

As soon as he heard the soft, kind voice, Ibi already felt relieved.
Arang smiled knowingly, as if he already understood Ibi’s troubles,
and greeted Sowol, who had followed.

“Greetings, Heavenly Soldier.”

“It’s been a while, Old Fox Spirit.
Don’t mind me.
As long as you don’t reveal heaven’s secrets, I won’t harm you.”

Sowol gave a meaningful smile.
Arang smiled awkwardly in return.

Arang, who had lived far longer than Ibi, was a respected white fox spirit.
He was also a revered shaman.
If you paid the right price, he’d always give wise answers and guidance.

“Arang, two goblins disappeared. Where did they go?”

Ibi, impatient, asked right away.
Even without context, Arang always understood and gave the right answer.

“Two goblins disappeared?”

Arang sat at the table and served Ibi tea.
Behind him, his white fox tail swayed softly.
The fluffy, beautiful tail shifted from one, to three, to five, then back to one again.

What made Arang even more special was that he was one of the rare nine-tailed foxes.
With his long-built virtue, he could’ve ascended to heaven already,
but he chose to stay among humans, enjoying poetry and accumulating good deeds.

“Will this be enough as payment?”

Ibi pulled out a gold bar from inside his shirt collar.
Arang narrowed his eyes, weighed it, and tilted his head.

“Hmm… a bit short.”

“How much more do you need?”

“In addition to this, let me pet my little fox while I divine.”

That was easy and even welcome.
Ibi jumped off his seat and in the next moment, beneath the chair,
a small red-furred fox wagged its tail.
He hopped into Arang’s lap.