Little Pink Starfish

As Ebi pretended not to notice and went to sit on the porch, he caught a glimpse of something in Saeon’s hand—a small Buddha statue.

“My Buddha!”

He quickly checked his bag—sure enough, one was missing. Ebi sheepishly took it back from Saeon.

“Thanks.”

Saeon shrugged like it was nothing. Then he rummaged through his sling bag and pulled out a sack. When he left the abandoned house with it, Ebi, curious, followed behind. The red-thread ankle band didn’t have restraining power, but he was curious about what had happened to the bamboo Saeon had worked on the day before.

When they arrived at the spot from yesterday, Ebi took a few steps back, startled by a sight he’d never seen before. An involuntary gasp came from his mouth.

Between the tall bamboo poles stuck in the ground, human heads were hanging, dangling. He backed up three steps and nearly stepped on Saeon’s foot, who was standing silently behind him.

“What are those things?”

Looking closer, the heads were slightly moving. Two steps nearer, he saw that they had eight long legs attached to them. Three steps closer still, he realized they were spiders with human-head-shaped bodies hanging from the bamboo.

“Inmyeonjiju.”

Saeon gave a short answer and approached the creatures without hesitation. Their eyes, attached to their torso-heads, blinked and rolled as he got closer. It was a bizarre enough sight to make a faint-hearted person pass out.

Ebi watched over Saeon’s shoulder, a mix of curiosity and disgust on his face. Saeon pulled on leather gloves and started plucking the inmyeonjiju off the bamboo. Busy eating the inmyeoneo (face fish) meat Saeon had scattered the day before, the creatures didn’t even try to escape. Only once caught did they flail their legs and twist their grotesque faces in rage.

Saeon, unaffected, tossed the screaming inmyeonjiju into the sack, tying the opening tight with red thread. Then, with practiced hands, he spun the spiderwebs stretched between the bamboo poles around branches, collecting them like thread on a spool. Ebi, thoroughly fascinated, watched him work with wide eyes.

“What do you use the spiderwebs for?”

“All kinds of things.”

“How did you know how to use face-fish meat?”

“In general, the more human-like a yokai is, the tastier other yokai find it.”

Maybe it was true he’d been a hunter for a long time—Saeon seemed to know an awful lot about yokai. Ironically, it was Ebi, also a supernatural being, who didn’t know.

“What happens if one of those inmyeonjiju bites you?”

“You die instantly, or get sick for a few days and then die, or just barely survive.”

Ebi gave Saeon another one of his you’re insane looks. He’d grabbed those terrifying things with his hands?

Carrying the wriggling sack on his back, Saeon strolled off casually. Back at the abandoned house, he sat down hard on the porch and pulled out a dagger from somewhere. Then, without a care, he grabbed an inmyeonjiju from the sack and started cleaning it like a chestnut.

“Whoa…”

Ebi, watching, gasped in awe. He clearly wasn’t new to this—each motion of the dagger popped out the venomous fangs and removed the poisoned leg stingers. Ebi watched, hypnotized by the meticulous process. It was bizarrely fascinating.

When he finished, Saeon placed the venomous parts in a separate pouch. The inmyeonjiju, now limp and squeaking, were stuffed back into the sack and the opening tightly sealed. Saeon slung the heavy sack on his back and was about to head out again when Ebi started trailing him.

“Why? I can’t watch?”

Ebi gave him a look that said, Don’t even try saying that. In all his long life, he’d never experienced something so creepy, thrilling, and fascinating. Saeon raised an eyebrow at the way Ebi’s shoulders bounced with excitement.

“I’ll be quiet…”

“Does the stuff that oozes from spiders look like blood to goblins too?”

This was… probably a warning that he was going to squish them, right? Ebi thought it over, but he’d never once mistaken bug goo for blood before.

“As long as it’s not red blood, I’m fine.”

“Then it should be fine.”

With permission granted, Ebi happily followed behind. The sack full of inmyeonjiju looked heavy, but Saeon showed no signs of struggle.

“Are all hunters like you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing much. You’re just the first hunter I’ve ever met. I was wondering if this is how all of them hunt.”

“Pretty much.”

Saeon answered indifferently. He walked easily along a path not used by people or animals. Well, if he was a hunter, he’d probably been through plenty of mountains. Even now, many yokai and ghosts lived in mountains—plenty of shady spots meant heavy yin energy.

It might’ve felt eerie to a human, but to Ebi, the air just felt refreshing. He walked along with light steps, like he was out for a stroll—until he spotted something dark and plastic-looking.

Hmm? What’s that?

Saeon didn’t even glance at it and kept walking, but Ebi couldn’t resist his curiosity. As he peered closer at the shadowy figure, it started squirming and raised a small arm. Then it slowly began to grow. It had started off squirrel-sized, and in no time, it was as big as a child.

Ebi was fascinated, watching to see how big it would get—until suddenly, something popped out from behind and covered his eyes. Startled, he spun around and realized it was Saeon’s hand that had covered them.

“What are you doing?”

Saeon pulled his hand away and asked. Ebi, reflexively, turned to look again, but Saeon grabbed his jaw forcefully to stop him.

“Why were you looking at the Eodukshini?”

“Oh, that was an Eodukshini?”

Ebi’s eyes widened. He almost looked again out of habit, but quickly turned his head. He remembered—Eodukshini grew stronger the more you looked at them. No wonder it had gotten bigger. As Ebi marveled, Saeon gave him a sideways glance. After giving him a once-over, Saeon suddenly asked,

“How old are you?”

“This year… about 500, give or take.”

“And this is your first time seeing an Eodukshini?”

Ebi looked away sheepishly. Eodukshini were among the weakest and most common of evil spirits—like stones on the roadside. Most yokai knew how to easily deal with them. All Eodukshini could really do was try to eat humans. And they were so slow and dumb they usually couldn’t even catch them.

That Ebi had never encountered one before was mostly due to his environment. Since birth, he’d always had the Scholar, the Goblin King Igok, or Dongjitdal and Sowol nearby. Weak things like Eodukshini ran away miles in advance whenever those types were around.

“You’ve lived for hundreds of years, never seen an inmyeonjiju, never seen an Eodukshini, never seen a hunter… What, is your true form some sacred treasure or something?”

Saeon looked genuinely curious. Ebi flinched—he had been treated like a sacred relic in a glass case before.

“I had good reasons for living a gentle life…”

He trailed off and cleared his throat. Saeon didn’t pry and just shrugged before walking off again.

Eventually, they reached a valley with a stream trickling through. Even though it wasn’t cold, a chilly, ominous air hung over the place.

Saeon dropped the sack onto the ground. He took a black wooden stake from his bag and, with all his strength, drove it through the squirming, bulging sack. The inmyeonjiju inside started thrashing wildly and wailing like children.

Ebi stepped back to not get in the way and watched. He thought Saeon was trying to kill them. But after planting the stake, Saeon did nothing more—he simply put on his gloves and gripped his knife.

Then came a strange sound. Leaves and branches rustling against something large.

A gloomy aura spread through the valley, and everything took on a dim, gray tone from the spiderwebs. Black, yellow, and greenish spiders of all sizes began pouring in from every direction. It was like every spider in the whole mountain had gathered. Ebi didn’t fear bugs, but he didn’t like them either. He swatted one off his shoulder in disgust.

Swatting more off his arms, he glanced at Saeon, who had a terrifyingly focused expression. Even as spiders crawled all over his body and face, he didn’t flinch. His dark eyes stared far ahead, glittering distantly. Ebi held his breath without realizing it.

It was midday, yet the forest was growing dim. The bright blue sky above contrasted starkly. Only the sounds of rustling bugs filled the air. Then, something emerged between the trees—several long, pale, hairy columns slowly swaying up and down.

They were the legs of a massive spider.