Little Pink Starfish

While Ibi was panicking, the hunter picked up the knife again.
But this time, the blade was not aimed at Ibi, but at his own forearm.
The hunter’s eyes gleamed.
Just as it looked like he would easily stab himself and draw blood—
Ibi couldn’t take it anymore.

“Wait a second!”

In the end, Ibi released his disguise.
Even though Ibi’s size suddenly changed,
the hunter didn’t flinch at all—he just kept gripping Ibi’s neck.
Because of that, Ibi’s neck was squeezed even harder, and he gasped.
Seeing Ibi’s human form, the hunter muttered faintly:

“Ibiwon…?”

He had said he was a fan before—
but strangely, now the hunter’s face showed even more killing intent.
As the hunter’s grip tightened, Ibi barely managed to shout:

“Fan meeting! Remember?”

Finally, the hunter hesitated, looking somewhat shaken.
He stared silently at Ibi, then slowly released his strangling hand.

“You said you were my fan…
You gave me a lollipop and said you wanted to meet me…”

Even after all that, the hunter just blankly stared.
Was he not the fan?
Had he really come to hunt goblins that day?
Frustrated, Ibi narrowed his eyes and questioned:

“You’re… not my fan?”

Their gazes locked.
The hunter’s black pupils seemed to pierce straight through Ibi.
Weirdly, meeting those eyes again made Ibi feel breathless.
It felt like endless time was passing.

The hunter pulled the white neck he held even closer to himself.
Ibi could see a faint scar above the hunter’s left eyebrow.
The hunter took a deep, deep breath, his chest swelling.
He licked the corner of his lips lightly.

Once, twice…
Finally, after filling his lungs to the limit,

—he smiled faintly for the first time.
The smile even looked a little innocent.
The hunter spoke:

“Yeah…
I’m your fan.”

🍬

Surprisingly, the hunter really was Ibiwon’s fan.

“You seriously came to the fan meeting because you’re a real fan?”

Ibi muttered blankly while looking around the room.
He flicked the tip of his finger at a photo of himself stuck on the wall.
It wasn’t a poster or photo book—
just random magazine clippings pasted up carelessly.
In the photo, he wore a wet shirt, throwing a languid gaze somewhere off-camera.
There were several other scrap photos stuck next to it.

Anyway, the room itself was terribly barren.

After confirming Ibi was really Ibiwon,
the hunter had brought him to his personal room.
A once-master-bedroom now filled with dust and cobwebs, fitting the ruined state of the house.
In one corner lay an old mattress, as if picked up from somewhere.
Opposite, a desk with a computer,
a bookcase crammed with old books,
and various ritual tools scattered messily.

The floor was so dirty the hunter simply walked around on it with his shoes still on.

Ibi had never seen someone live so roughly before.
Wandering awkwardly, he asked:

“Um… what should I call you?
You can tell me a nickname or whatever.
Or should I just call you Mr. Kim?”

At the “Mr. Kim” remark, the hunter twitched his eyebrow.
He corrected Ibi:

“Yoo Sa-eon.”

“Oh, is that your alias?”

“It’s my real name.”

Ibi, who had absentmindedly brushed a book and gotten his fingers covered in gray dust,
spun around, startled.
The hunter, still expressionless, was watching him roam around his private space.

“Your real name? Really?
Is it okay to tell me something like that?”

“You know my name too.
Ibiwon.”

The hunter answered with a blank, almost dumb face.
It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
Giving someone your true name held significant meaning.
Knowing this, Ibi hesitated—
then impulsively spoke.

“My name’s not Ibiwon. It’s just Ibi.
Goblin names are a bit different from human ones.
So… just call me Ibi.”

“…Ibi.”

Yoo Sa-eon called his name carefully, syllable by syllable, as if savoring it.
Ibi cleared his throat awkwardly.
Normally, he could easily get along with anyone, even the most prickly types—
yet after just exchanging names with this hunter, it already felt weird.
Why did it feel so awkward?

Unable to endure the strange mood, Ibi quickly changed the subject.
He pointed at the computer and asked:

“Um… does this thing even have internet?”

“Yeah.”

Well, it made sense—what would you even do with a computer that didn’t?
Still, how did he get internet installed way out here?
Ibi couldn’t figure out whether Sa-eon was poor or rich.

“How did you even manage to get a fan signing ticket?
The competition was crazy fierce.”

“I failed.
So I bought one for extra money.”

Sa-eon answered indifferently.
Ibi didn’t really know how expensive his own fan signing tickets got.
Still, hearing Sa-eon spent extra just to see him made Ibi feel secretly happy.

Laughing lightly,
he suddenly remembered why he had followed the hunter all the way here.

“By the way—
have you, um, caught two goblins recently?
They went missing, and I heard a hunter might have taken them.”

Trailing after Sa-eon, who had wandered off to another building,
Ibi asked.

“Goblins? What would I use goblins for?
Even if you catch one, it’s just junk.”

Opening the door of a large side house, Sa-eon spoke bluntly.
He wasn’t wrong—
but to a goblin like Ibi, the words stung a little.

Just as Ibi stepped into the side house behind him—
a thick, sticky darkness swallowed the space.

Startled, Ibi stumbled back.
He couldn’t see Sa-eon anymore.

The entire inside of the side house was filled with unnatural darkness,
heavy with deep hatred—
and that hatred seemed to be aimed at Sa-eon.

Frozen, unsure what to do,
Ibi stepped back again.

But suddenly the darkness vanished.

When he cautiously looked back inside, Ibi froze.

It wasn’t just because Sa-eon was bashing a man’s head with his fist.

It was because—
the side house was covered with talismans,
and piles of dead beasts and yokai were carelessly left around.

As Ibi’s eyes moved further inside—
his face turned pale.

A massive tiger’s severed head—obviously once a sacred creature—
was mounted on the wall.

What the hell kind of monster are you…?

It was shocking enough that Sa-eon could kill such a powerful being.
But the fact that he dared to do it so casually was even more terrifying.

“KEEEE!”

The man, his head bashed in, transformed into a giant snake, thrashing violently.
Its thick tail slammed the walls and floor with heavy thuds.
It struck Sa-eon too, but Sa-eon didn’t even grunt.

“So annoying…”

Muttering in a bored voice,
Sa-eon shoved his hand into the snake’s mouth,
pried it open,
and dug at its eyes with his other hand.

Terrified, Ibi bolted from the side house.

Behind him, he heard sickening cracking and tearing sounds.

Ibi had once starred in a thriller movie.
While filming, he learned all kinds of scary terminology.
One of them was “psychopath.”
That term had been used for serial killers in the script.

The actor playing the serial killer was so realistic it gave everyone chills—
even a former detective praised the performance.

Right now, Ibi felt that exact “psychopath vibe” coming from Sa-eon.

He needed to escape immediately.

He tried to transform into a bird again—
but something snagged at his legs.

Looking down in shock,
Ibi found a yellow talisman stuck to his calf.

“What the—!?”

Realizing the talisman was blocking his transformation,
he frantically tried to peel it off.

Then he heard footsteps.

Goosebumps prickled his whole body.

Heart pounding,
he slowly turned his head—
and Sa-eon grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around.

Ibi almost screamed.

“Blood.”

Sa-eon raised his hands, showing his palms clean of any blood,
as if to say “See? No blood.”
No trace of blood at all.

“If you kill them inside there, no blood gets out.
Makes cleanup easy.”

“R-right…”

Not that I wanted to know that…

Sa-eon’s gaze dropped to Ibi’s legs and hands.
Tilting his head at the perfect sharp angle,
his black eyes gleamed.

“Where were you trying to run off to?”

“I-I just got scared because of all the blood…”

Ibi desperately played dumb,
standing in front of the hunter who had slapped a talisman on him without him noticing,
slaughtered ancient monsters bare-handed,
and casually mounted a sacred tiger’s head on his wall.