The Dokkaebi Waiting for the Moon

Chapter 24

“Ma-Manager Yeo…”

“Ah. I’m not talking about you. I’m saying I’m the lucky one.”

Yeo Moon-beom, cutting off any potential misunderstanding, slowly approached Professor Bang and spoke in a low voice, almost whispering:

“You’re not lucky. You’re about to die for hitting the wrong person – a madman like me who only knows revenge.”

“You said you wouldn’t send me to the afterlife!”

Professor Bang shouted, as if it was too much.

“I won’t, not now. There’s something I need to confirm.”

He clenched and unclenched his left hand where Eun-hwi had touched him, recalling the tingling sensation he had just felt.

The sensation of his eyes brightening as if light had seeped in, the sound of insects becoming louder as if a speaker’s volume had been turned up, and the scent of the dew-wet forest wafting strongly.

“Ability transfer or absorption.”

“Huh?”

“Search everything – literature, papers, legends, oral traditions – and gather all the information you can find.”

It wasn’t just his imagination. The moment of physical contact, the half-dokkaebi’s divine power had flowed into him.

It was the power of the spirits that he had longed for so much.

“If you’re caught plotting again… You know what happens, right?”

Yeo Moon-beom drew his index finger across his throat. The corners of his long mouth curved gently, filled with mischief. Professor Bang shuddered at the ambiguous smile, unclear whether it was a genuine smile or a sneer.

He was more monstrous than any monster he knew.

“Red cross… Red cross…”

Eun-hwi entered the room that faintly smelled of peppermint and searched for the box Yeo Moon-beom had mentioned.

Perhaps it was because there were things scattered around that didn’t belong to him or Gabi.

Despite having lived in this house for a very long time, he felt a strange sensation, as if he had secretly sneaked into some Mr. Kim’s house in the village while wearing a dokkaebi hat.

“There’s the red cross!”

As he was kneeling and checking the floor, a white box placed under the mirror stand caught Eun-hwi’s eye.

A red mark where horizontal and vertical lines intersected. Although the shape was too thick to be called a simple cross, the pattern Yeo Moon-beom had mentioned was engraved on the front of the box.

Eun-hwi quickly grabbed the box and ran outside. He didn’t have time to put on his shoes properly, so the bent heel made his heel ache slightly, but he hurried his steps for the sake of the injured outsider, Mr. Kim.

“Yeo Moon-beom! I brought it!”

As he entered the grass, he saw Yeo Moon-beom helping the outsider Mr. Kim, who had been lying face down on the ground, to lean against a tree. Seeing his face scraped as if rubbed with sandpaper and covered with scabs, an “ugh” involuntarily escaped Eun-hwi’s lips.

His expression wasn’t very good, probably because the injured areas were quite painful. He seemed to lack even the presence of mind to call him “Dokkaebi-nim, Dokkaebi-nim” in a friendly tone as before.

“You found it well. Good job.”

Yeo Moon-beom gently patted Eun-hwi’s head as if to give the praise he couldn’t earlier. Despite the inconvenience of touching around the horns protruding on both sides, he stroked Eun-hwi’s hair without showing any discomfort.

Rustle, rustle.

The touch following the grain of his hair felt good. It was like a spring breeze full of peppermint scent gently wrapping around his skin. The half-dokkaebi’s long eyelashes fluttered pleasantly as his eyes closed slightly.

“Eun-hwi. I’m going to treat him and send him back to the village, so would you like to go back to the house first? It’s going to take some time.”

“Hmm…”

“What? Do you want to stay?”

“Yes. Can I watch you treat him from the side?”

“I don’t mind. Do as you like.”

The hand that had been constantly touching his head was removed, but Eun-hwi didn’t feel as regretful as before. It was because of Yeo Moon-beom’s attitude, which had changed considerably from just moments ago when he had coldly closed the door, saying he would go to sleep first.

As Eun-hwi nodded with a brightened expression, Yeo Moon-beom gently stroked his head once more.

“Banggwippong, you’ll be fine now. Don’t worry.”

“What? Ba-Banggwi-ppong?”

The outsider Mr. Kim, who had been sitting leaning against the tree as if in a daze, startled and raised his upper body. His button-hole eyes behind the broken glasses widened as if they were about to pop out.

“What’s wrong, Banggwippong?”

“Dokkaebi-nim. I’m not Banggwippong. I’m Doctor Hong-salgwi. Please call me Dr. Hong for short.”

“Doctor Hong-salgwi?”

“Yes, that’s right, Dokkaebi-nim.”

“But I heard earlier… Yeo Moon-beom calling you Banggwippong.”

As the half-dokkaebi spoke with an undisguised puzzlement in his voice, Yeo Moon-beom, who was taking out disinfectant and cotton cloth from the white box, chuckled. Then, the outsider Mr. Kim, who had been trembling in fear all along, glared at him with fierce eyes as if he had become a different person.

“Manager Yeo, that’s too much! You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“If the Dokkaebi-nim says so, isn’t that how it is? Don’t blame others unnecessarily and just accept it. What’s the use of denying your own name? There must be meaning and reason behind the name you were given.”

At Yeo Moon-beom’s cold reply, the outsider Mr. Kim, who had been sighing deeply with his hand on his forehead, called out to Eun-hwi with a rather serious expression.

“Dokkaebi-nim.”

“What is it, Banggwippong?”

“May I dare ask the meaning of your esteemed name?”

“Huh? Oh… My name means ‘gentle light.'”

Eun (温) for gentle, Hwi (輝) for light.

Eun-hwi (誾輝).

It was the name his mother had given him when she saw his yellow eyes just after he was born, before she passed away.

Wondering why he suddenly asked about the meaning of his name, Eun-hwi blinked his eyes several times. His gently glowing eyes disappeared and reappeared repeatedly behind a thin layer of eyelids. The outsider Mr. Kim, who had been staring intently at this sight, quietly opened his mouth.

“I don’t have such a meaningful name. It’s just a name carelessly given to me by the family who picked me up.”

“…Picked up?”

“Yes. I was an abandoned child. A child left in front of a house.”

Abandoned? By whom?

…Ah.

Eun-hwi’s mouth slowly opened as he soon realized that those who abandoned him were his parents.

To think there are parents in this world who abandon their children. Even animals don’t do that.

Although Gabi hadn’t returned for ten years, Eun-hwi never once thought he had been abandoned.

It was because Gabi had loved him overflowingly for his entire life, even though everyone else disliked him for being neither human nor spirit.

He didn’t know what words of comfort to offer. The hurt the man must have felt was not easily fathomable.

Eun-hwi, who had been moving his lips in confusion, finally burst into tears, unable to bear the pain in his chest. Teardrops hanging from the tips of his oily eyelashes fell, wetting the back of his white hand.

“Poor thing. Banggwi-ppong… *sob*”

“Why are you making the child cry?”

The surroundings became hazy as if covered in fog. Yeo Moon-beom, who had lightly scolded the outsider Mr. Kim, wiped Eun-hwi’s wet eyes with the cotton cloth he was holding.

“Why are you crying over something so trivial? Don’t cry. Okay?”

He gently patted Eun-hwi’s back several times to comfort him, but the flowing tears didn’t stop easily.

“No, no. I was just trying to say that I don’t like that name…”

The flustered outsider Mr. Kim raised his upper body that had been leaning against the tree.

“Please don’t cry, Dokkaebi-nim.”

He, who had been hesitating and at a loss what to do as Eun-hwi continued to cry, reached out to pat Eun-hwi’s shoulder. However, intimidated by Yeo Moon-beom’s gaze, which had turned up sharply at the ends, he withdrew his body back again.

“I’m sorry, Dokkaebi-nim. You can call me Banggwippong or Bang Ki-bong or whatever you like, just please stop crying.”

At this pleading request, Eun-hwi, who had been biting his lower lip hard and swallowing his tears, said:

“No… I’ll call you, *sniff*, Doctor Hong-salgwi instead of Banggwippong.”

He barely managed to reply in a nasal voice full of mucus.

Knowing the circumstances, calling him by a name that brought up sad memories was no different from bullying.

Having been endlessly bullied by spirits and humans in Baekdu Mountain and here in Wolhwa, he could fully understand Dr. Hong’s desire to be called by a different name.

The half-dokkaebi brought the long sleeve below his hand to his face to wipe away the mess of tears and mucus.

“Let’s blow your nose with this.”

Yeo Moon-beom held the dry side of the cotton cloth to his nose.

“It’s okay, so blow hard.”

Hesitating at first, wondering if it was alright to use cloth meant for wiping blood so carelessly, Eun-hwi blew his nose with a loud sound at Yeo Moon-beom’s nod of approval. Only then could he breathe properly, his breath no longer congested.

“Your eyes are red again. Like a rabbit’s.”

Yeo Moon-beom smiled as he looked into the bloodshot eyes after wiping away the last bit of mucus from the tip of Eun-hwi’s nose. Somehow feeling embarrassed at becoming a crybaby, Eun-hwi’s cheeks and earlobes, which had been only white before, turned pink.

“Stop staring now and get on with the treatment, Dr. Hong-salgwi.”

After confirming that Eun-hwi had calmed down considerably, Yeo Moon-beom turned to the side and opened the cap of the disinfectant. The half-dokkaebi involuntarily shrugged his shoulders at the pungent, chemical smell. The artificial scent, far from nature, was still unfamiliar to him.

“Why don’t you blow on Dr. Hong-salgwi’s wounds?”

Far from blowing on the wounds, Yeo Moon-beom took out a stick from a brown bottle labeled ‘Iodine’ and roughly applied the medicine to Dr. Hong’s cheeks. Dr. Hong’s eyes twitched slightly each time the medicine was applied to his scraped skin, presumably from the pain.

“I won’t. He’s a stranger. That’s something you only do for special people.”

“But he’s pitiful, so blow on it.”

“Doesn’t everyone have their own story? I think I’m more pitiful.”

Yeo Moon-beom retorted in a slightly sulky voice. His hand applying the medicine became quite rough, causing Dr. Hong’s forehead wrinkles to deepen like furrows as he let out a groan. It seemed he was having difficulty enduring the pain.

“Does Yeo Moon-beom have a story too?”