…Ah. Jae-ha sifted through his memories for a moment before nodding. It had been quite a while ago, but since earthworms weren’t something you often saw in the city, the memory stuck with him.
It must have been near the end of the monsoon season. That day, the rain was so heavy some areas flooded, even making headlines. Jae-ha hadn’t planned on stepping outside in such weather, but a friend nearby had called, sobbing that the wallpaper was soaked through. After helping clean up and buying groceries for them, he was finally on his way home.
Even with an umbrella, the fierce wind and rain had soaked not just his arms and calves, but his shoulders too. The umbrella ribs rattled like aspen leaves in the gusts. At that point, he was wondering if it might be better to just fold it up and march through the storm since he was drenched anyway.
That’s when he noticed something like a twig caught in the water streaming down the road like a waterfall.
It didn’t quite look like a branch—the oddly shiny surface drew his eyes. Then it twitched, as though pleading for help. Only when it wriggled once, then bent slowly, did Jae-ha realize it was an earthworm.
“Brave little thing, coming out on a day like this.”
He found himself murmuring aloud. As if responding, the worm squirmed, only to nearly be swept away by the current. It struggled desperately and managed to stop after being dragged about the length of its body.
Clearly, the worm hadn’t chosen to be in the flooded street. After a moment’s hesitation, Jae-ha crouched down. A large shadow fell over it as his slender fingers pinched up the plump body.
The worm flailed briefly, then froze stiff like it had turned to stone. Thanks to that, Jae-ha was able to move it easily to a safer spot on the sidewalk where less water flowed.
“Careful here too. Don’t go getting stepped on.”
He even offered it advice it couldn’t possibly understand before straightening up. Maybe it was because he’d spent all day moving furniture and drying wallpaper, but he really wasn’t thinking straight.
“That worm was me.”
“…Was it now?”
What the hell was he supposed to say to that? While Jae-ha forced a reluctant reply, Hae-hyun scoffed.
“What are you, some Imoogi repaying a debt? That’s so cliché.”
“What did you say?”
“Hey. Quiet.”
With a sharp click of her tongue, Hae-ryeong silenced them both and turned to Su-min.
“So you shared your Imoogi energy with Jae-ha just for that? As payback?”
“No… Don’t you get it?”
Su-min frowned, clearly frustrated.
He was a spiritual beast. Young still—he’d need a few hundred more years before ascending—but wise and extraordinary enough to wield supernatural powers.
Yes, Jae-ha’s kindness had helped him, but giving away his own energy just for that? Far too much. That wasn’t his intent at all.
The reason Su-min had given his Imoogi energy to Jae-ha was something else entirely.
“Hyung, you’re a Cheonrok.”
He had sensed the aura of the celestial deer.
“What?”
“Technically, you’re a descendant of one.”
Hae-hyun, who had been ready to tear Su-min apart no matter what he said, froze mid-breath. His dazed eyes shifted to Jae-ha.
“Sunbae, you’re a Cheonrok?”
“What even is that supposed to mean?”
Jae-ha asked, baffled. Su-min clicked his tongue impatiently.
“You’re covered in that aura and you don’t even know? Are you dumb?”
“Wait. A Cheonrok? Are you sure?”
This time, Hae-ryeong cut through their bickering. When she pressed him seriously, Su-min pouted but nodded.
“Ah—ah! That explains it. So that’s why. That’s why my sleep spell on Ju Hae-hyun didn’t work—it was because of spiritual beast blood. That spell only works on normal humans. Wow, no wonder. The moment I saw you, I just wanted to be close. Even when you only said a word or two back, I felt so ridiculously satisfied, and suddenly I had more energy. And it turns out it was because you’re a Cheonrok? That’s terrifying. So this is the power of a Cheonrok.”
Hae-ryeong muttered quickly, retracing all the odd little signs she’d noticed. No wonder, no wonder. She was practically giving a one-woman monologue.
Watching her, Jae-ha frowned. There was a limit to being left out of the conversation.
“So… anyone going to tell me what a Cheonrok actually is?”
His tone was sharper now. Only then did Hae-ryeong glance at him with an awkward smile.
“Sorry, it’s just so rare. …Wait, why am I apologizing? Me? Feeling bad about this? Is that also the Cheonrok effect?”
As she floundered, Hae-hyun stepped in.
“Cheonrok is a spiritual beast, like the Haetae. Its aura heals wounds and restores vitality—it’s basically a living cure-all. Descendants may have diluted blood, so the effects aren’t as dramatic, but the original power was so strong that it still works.”
“It does,” Su-min cut in calmly.
That worm, drained and gasping, had surged with energy the moment it touched Jae-ha’s hand. Even the sluggish buildup of his internal power had sped up slightly. That was how he’d immediately known the man who rescued him was a Cheonrok descendant.
“Wait.”
Hae-hyun interrupted.
“The Cheonrok’s been gone for ages. No news, no descendants. Even my noona, an exorcist at the Guardian Agency, couldn’t sense it in sunbae. So how did you?”
The Cheonrok were famous for being wanderers, never staying still. But for decades now, they have vanished completely. And yet this young Imoogi had recognized it instantly? Suspicious, to say the least.
Pressed, Su-min scratched his cheek, frowning like he was dragging up an old memory.
“Well… I met another Cheonrok descendant once.”
“Another descendant?”
Jae-ha asked without thinking. If he himself was one, then the other must have been…
“Yeah. Probably your family. It was a woman, so… probably your mother?”
“You met my mom…?”
Why the hell had she kept something this important from him? Jae-ha was dumbstruck.
“But it wasn’t a good memory. The moment we met, she nearly brewed me into snake wine.”
“…My mom did what?”
Mu-yeon liked a glass or two with meals, sure, but she wasn’t some hardcore drinker making infused liquor at home—and not with animals, of all things. Had something happened to change her so drastically? He couldn’t make sense of it.
“Yeah. That’s why I don’t drink.”
“…Ah.”
Well… at least Su-min’s story lined up. Jae-ha managed to accept it, more or less. Then he asked the real question.
“Okay, but why did you put your energy into me?”
That was the most important part, and he still didn’t have an answer. If it wasn’t to repay a kindness, then why give him the power not to drown? Especially when it had even been mistaken for a curse—though Su-min hadn’t known about that.
“Well, that’s… um.”
At Jae-ha’s question, Su-min glanced at him shyly, hesitating. …Why was he looking at him like that? A bad feeling crept in as Jae-ha narrowed his eyes—just before Su-min dropped a bomb.
“Hyung, how would you feel about living with me?”
“…Huh?”
“What!?”
Hae-hyun burst out, yanking Jae-ha to his side. Even hiding him behind his back didn’t settle his nerves—he glared daggers at Su-min.
“Why the hell would sunbae live with you?”
“You don’t know how great my nest is. Hyung, if you come, you’ll never have to worry again. You can just eat and play forever.”
While Su-min earnestly advertised his nest, Jae-ha’s brows twitched.
The recurring drowning dreams, nearly falling into the lake, and now this Imoogi showing up—everything felt connected.
“You’re not actually a student here, are you?”
At the blunt question, Su-min hesitated, then nodded. Jae-ha pressed on.
“Then why take that elective?”
“……”
“Don’t even think about feeding me some lame excuse.”
With no escape left, Su-min squirmed for a long moment before finally speaking, eyes darting guiltily.
“…Because I thought you’d show up. But you didn’t… so yeah.”
