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Episode 6
“Wow, the eggplant dish is really popular today! We’re almost out!”
“Yes, it’s almost done!”
‘Soonhee’s Driver’s Diner’ was famous in the neighborhood for cheap prices and delicious side dishes, so it was always full of customers — weekdays or weekends didn’t matter.
Yeon-woo, who had been working part-time there for several years now, had earned the trust of Madam Soonhee and was even in charge of nearly half the side dishes. For someone who’d been kicked out of every other job for one reason or another, this was the longest she’d ever stayed anywhere.
“Yeon-woo, that’s enough for today. You don’t look too well. You have to take care of yourself when you’re young so you don’t suffer later.”
Madam Soonhee gave her a gentle push, her tone full of concern. But the hall worker had already gone home, and the large trays of food were too heavy for the old woman to carry alone.
“I’m really fine, ma’am.”
“You’ve barely eaten a single bowl of rice today! Go home and rest, hurry.”
Yeon-woo couldn’t deny she’d been distracted all day by vague worries. But aside from that, things had gone unusually smoothly — no slipping on wet floors, no broken dishes, and all the ingredients that arrived were perfectly fresh.
Normally, her appetite was endless — three bowls of rice weren’t enough — but today she couldn’t eat more than one. Something in her chest felt too heavy.
“Then I’ll just finish cleaning this up and go.”
Madam Soonhee’s scolding eyes softened when Yeon-woo lifted an empty tray and took off her apron.
“I’ll come early tomorrow to organize the pantry, so you should rest too, ma’am!”
She gave a polite bow and slipped out the back door. She wanted to get home quickly — to brush her tail and calm this uneasy feeling that had followed her all day.
“Hopefully… I don’t end up in some accident on the way home.”
That strange sense of dread made her alert, eyes darting across the dark street. She prided herself on being tough, but even she knew she wouldn’t win against a dump truck flying by at seventy kilometers per hour.
Just as she turned into a narrow alley—
Crash!
“What was that?”
It sounded like dishes breaking — from inside the restaurant. If she hadn’t been so tense, she might’ve missed it.
“Ma’am!”
Yeon-woo ran back, practically breaking down the back door. And there —
Madam Soonhee was collapsed on the floor.
“Ma’am! Please wake up!”
Yeon-woo hurried to check her pulse — faint but there. The old woman was breathing, but unresponsive. With shaking hands, Yeon-woo called 119.
A short while later.
“What’s your relationship to the patient?”
“I—I’m a part-timer.”
The hospital staff used Madam Soonhee’s phone to contact her family. Meanwhile, Yeon-woo stood frozen at the emergency entrance, clutching the old woman’s apron in both hands.
Then, a group of people stormed in — loud, angry voices filling the air. Before she could react, a man grabbed her by the collar.
“You!”
It was Madam Soonhee’s eldest son.
Yeon-woo couldn’t even lift her head, her mind blank. The man’s fury grew.
“How dare you stand here after what you’ve done?! I knew something bad would happen because of that damn fox!”
He knew. He knew what she was — a fox beastman. Normally, she’d have stood tall and told him that prejudice was outdated nonsense. But now? Her blood ran cold. What if… what if she had caused this somehow?
“You picked the wrong day to show up.”
He rolled up his sleeves, ready to strike, but before he could, a woman—his sister—grabbed his arm.
“Oppa, stop it! Don’t cause a scene here. Whatever you think, she’s the one who brought Mom to the hospital. The doctor said if it had been any later, it could’ve been serious.”
“Don’t twist things! It’s her fault Mom collapsed in the first place! I told you — fox spirits bring bad luck. We should’ve kicked her out long ago. Damn, what a joke!”
Being treated like trash because she was a beastman wasn’t new to Yeon-woo. The laws might’ve changed, but people hadn’t. Especially not when it came to “unlucky” animals like foxes.
The sister glanced at Yeon-woo, then tugged her brother toward the ward.
As they disappeared, she turned back briefly.
“Mother’s stable now. You can go.”
The tension in Yeon-woo’s body melted away at those words. She hadn’t even realized how tightly she’d been clenching her fists until her palms began to ache.
“Forget the restaurant! Get lost. If I see that filthy face again, I’ll make sure you regret it, you cursed creature!”
The man’s voice trailed off as he was dragged away, still shouting.
Yeon-woo stood there in silence, listening as the family discussed moving their mother to a nursing home.
She didn’t go home right away. Instead, she sat down on a bench in the parking lot. Her body suddenly felt unbearably heavy, every limb aching with exhaustion.
When she finally looked up, her reflection in the glass window across from her made her freeze.
“Ah…”
Her fox ears were showing — completely visible.
So that’s why the son had shouted about her “face.”
Panicked, she tried to hide them again, but…
“Why won’t they go back in?”
No matter how hard she concentrated, the ears stayed there, drooping weakly. Worse, a tingling sensation spread near her tailbone — if she wasn’t careful, her tail might appear too.
She shot to her feet, ducking between parked cars.
She’d always tried not to resent her life — being born in an illegal breeding facility, losing her fox bead, living alone without a pack. Complaining didn’t change anything, and surviving each day was hard enough.
But now, she realized she hadn’t truly grown numb at all.
The pain buried deep in her heart clawed its way out, choking her.
She pressed her hands over her mouth to stop the sobs from escaping. Tears spilled anyway, hot and soundless.
She cried until her body went cold.
When she finally dragged herself home, she stripped off her clothes and buried herself under the blanket.
A moment later, the blanket stirred — and a soft, reddish-brown tail slipped out from underneath.
“…Cold.”
Her fox ears and tail hung limp, lifeless. Even after crying everything out, the heaviness inside her didn’t fade.
Only emptiness filled the tiny rooftop room that felt lonelier than ever tonight.