Little Pink Starfish

Kyungjun felt faint for a moment and sat down on a nearby bench. Right in front of him, a giant bird waddled by like a person. It was a Yeodaejo (Like-Great-Bird). As he unconsciously stared at it, thinking about how precious Yeodaejo’s crop pouch was as a material, the bird suddenly turned its head and smack! slammed its giant beak right in front of his face.

“Uwaah!”

Startled, he fell backward off the bench. The bird let out a hearty, booming laugh and soon flew up to the 8th floor. Nearby, golden pigs (Geumjeo) who had been chatting and smoking made strange snorting sounds as they laughed at him. Judging by the expressions on their pig heads, they were definitely mocking him. Several people wearing traditional Vietnamese clothing also passed by laughing. Kyungjun, his face burning red, covered it and hurried off in another direction.

“What kind of place is this…”

No, really, how can everyone here act so normal when it’s filled with yokai on all sides? How is a ‘no-conflict’ announcement over the PA system enough? What if someone actually attacks you? When one yokai licked its lips while staring at him, Kyungjun nearly fainted.

“Stick to the crowded places. Don’t ever be alone.”

Recalling his senior’s warning, he looked around for a workshop. Most people moved in groups—very few walked alone—so he felt a bit out of place. Tightly on edge, Kyungjun’s eyes wandered everywhere. Was there any place in the world this strange?

He looked up out of curiosity at the faraway glass ceiling. He couldn’t even guess how many floors this building had. He tried to count them with his eyes, then gave up.

Just as the tension started to wear off and he was wandering aimlessly, distracted by all the unusual sights—he heard a short yelp. “Ah!” He had accidentally stepped on the hem of someone’s trailing garment without noticing.

“Ah, I’m sor—”

As Kyungjun reflexively apologized, he looked down and his eyes widened. It wasn’t a regular hem. Seven giant peacock feathers spread across the floor like a fan, dazzling in brilliant teal-blue hues—and he had stepped on one of them. Looking up, he saw an outfit just as ornate as the feathers.

The person was wearing a blue hanbok, redesigned in a modern style like a dapho. But the delicate gold embroidery on the flowing sleeves and collar made it more showy than modest, not like everyday hanbok at all. The peak of this extravagance was the outer robe draped over the dapho—an opal-colored silk garment like a hwarot with wide sleeves and a long train that brushed the floor. From its inner lining extended long, grand peacock feathers, neatly spread like rare blue silk on the ground.

Jewelry clinked faintly—there were so many ornaments. Anyone could see: this was a peacock in human form.

“How long do you plan to stand on my feathers?”

At the gentle voice, Kyungjun dazedly looked up at the yokai’s face. Though covered with a white veil, he could tell from the soft smile that the being was smiling. Flustered, he leapt back.

“S-sorry! I’m so sorry!”

He apologized before realizing it, then immediately blushed. Kyungjun wasn’t someone who felt warmly toward yokai. The fact that he’d been startled by something like this and even bowed his head in apology embarrassed him. And yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off the figure in front of him. Even though the face was hidden, everything else was enchanting.

A sudden dizziness washed over him, his heart pounded, and his face flushed. Without realizing, he reached out and lightly grabbed the yokai’s sleeve.

What snapped him out of it was the gaze of a man nearby, someone he hadn’t noticed until then. The man’s outfit screamed “hunter.” As the man’s emotionless gaze passed over him, a cold feeling crawled up Kyungjun’s spine. More than the yokai that had been licking its lips at him earlier, this man gave him the creeps. Letting go of the sleeve, Kyungjun quickly backed away.

He was clearly human, yet he felt more dangerous than any yokai, and more repelling too. Kyungjun no longer felt like sightseeing and hurried toward his destination.

Saeon silently watched the clumsy hunter run off without looking back. He tapped the inside of his pocket with his right index and middle fingers as if in thought, then hesitated when his left hand gently held his own.

“He’s a hunter too, isn’t he?”

As Ebi asked while slightly swaying Saeon’s hand, Saeon looked down at the hand being shaken as if it were unfamiliar, then softly returned the grip. The yokai and humans of Jusaya Mong carefully avoided stepping on the long peacock feathers dragging on the floor. Most knew well that nothing good came of stepping on a peacock’s feathers. That young hunter was the only one who had stepped on them.

“There’s no mark left, right? I said I’d return it to Han-sae’s little brother in good condition…”

With concern, Ebi tugged at the feathers to inspect them. Then, without a moment of hesitation, Saeon knelt. Surprised, Ebi looked down to see him wiping off the faint footprint with his hand. Flustered, Ebi’s robes fluttered uselessly as Saeon carefully smoothed them out, then stood and said, “It’s fine now.”

“If you had disguised yourself as a Duduri, this would’ve been way less troublesome.”

“No way! That kind of look is… completely not my taste!”

Ebi subtly said it was “ugly and unpleasant.” A few days ago, Saeon had asked Ebi to disguise himself as another yokai before visiting Jusaya Mong.

“Why do I have to disguise myself?”

“Goblins are easy to sell as merchandise there. Someone’s bound to recognize you as Ebiwon, and that’ll cause problems. Like someone blinded by money might suddenly spill blood and try to steal you.”

“No blood… absolutely no blood…”

“Also, it’s easier to enter the auction if you’re a yokai. Human status comes with stricter entry conditions. I’ll get you another membership token.”

In short, both Ebi and his identity as Ebiwon were troublesome at Jusaya Mong. Thinking it might be fun to disguise himself as another yokai, Ebi agreed readily. When asked what kind of yokai he should dress as, the next day Saeon brought out a large wooden mask from his house’s storage.

“…What’s this?”

“Made from the head of a Duduri—a yokai shaped like a sacred wood stump.”

He didn’t know what a Duduri was, but the more he looked at the mask, the uglier and stranger it seemed.

“It looks loose. Won’t it fall off?”

“It tightens from a curse when worn, so it’ll fit fine. And removing it is simple.”

When Saeon casually slipped his hand in, the mask’s mouth shrank down tightly around his wrist, letting out a groaning sound. Ebi paled. There was no way he’d put his head in that thing.

When Saeon briefly touched the surface with a lighter’s flame, the mouth groaned again and opened. Saeon offered it, saying, “Try it on.” Ebi backed away.

“Well… there’s still time, so I’ll look for other options…”

Fleeing Saeon’s house, Ebi messaged several yokai friends. He asked if anyone had a handsome and pretty yokai disguise he could borrow for visiting Jusaya Mong. Every one of them replied saying, “That’s me.” The most enthusiastic was Han-sae, a white peacock yokai (Baekchi).

“You just need to wear the feather robe! Want me to lend you my membership card too? I even have outfits I wear on outings!”

Like true peacocks who loved to show off, some had even joined Dobi Entertainment to work as models to be admired by humans. Han-sae was one of them. Compared to a Duduri head, Ebi found this way better and ran straight to Han-sae.

Han-sae brought out a beautiful outfit, made from the best tail feathers his younger sibling, a Cheongchi (blue peacock), shed once a year. When Ebi twirled and praised how dazzling it was, Han-sae’s little brother grinned and brought out accessories too.

In disguise, Ebi truly looked like a convincing Cheongchi. It was a hundred, no, a thousand times better than Duduri, so it was immediately chosen. He borrowed the clothes easily on the condition that he would later explain in detail how admired he was by Jusaya Mong’s visitors.

When he twirled slightly, the peacock feathers swirled wide with a soft rustle. Eyes from around glanced first at the stunning clothes, then up toward Ebi’s veiled face. Even though only the outlines of his features were visible, eyes lingered. Ebi began to understand why peacocks always showed off like that. The feathers truly were beautiful.

“This place is fun. I should’ve come sooner.”

Ebi said as he looked into a stall selling peaches. A sign read: “Shock Sale! Taste the rare nectarines touched by the compassionate hand of Queen Mother of the West!” Ebi’s eyes went wide. He didn’t know much about yokai, but he did know how legendary Seowangmo was. Were these really her peaches?

When he pointed at one of the ripe, fragrant fruits from under his sleeve and looked at Saeon, Saeon bought it and handed it to him, saying:

“That’s a scam. Stuff like that doesn’t show up even in the auction house.”

“So it’s a scam… Wait! Look at this—it says it’s a cure-all! It’s made with pure spring water drawn from the willow well of Seocheon flower field!”

“Lie.”

“It’s a lie… Whoa, they’re phoenix feathers! So phoenixes do exist!”

“That’s parrot feathers.”

“Parrot feathers…? No phoenix…?”

“Phoenixes exist, but that’s still parrot feathers.”

As Saeon replied indifferently, he bought the things Ebi had been eyeing one by one and tucked them into Ebi’s wide sleeves. True to being a goblin, Ebi kept getting fooled by the exaggerated ads for bizarre items, got disappointed, then got fooled again. Still, his eyes sparkled with joy the entire time.