When demand falls, it’s only natural for supply to dwindle as well. The number of users had dropped, and even those who remained had become penniless. As a result, the restaurants in the plaza were all on the path to closure.
The gamblers soon began occupying the prime locations vacated by the restaurants. Consequently, more and more users—who, having lost their assets in a previous quest and, driven by despair, chased after quick riches—ended up losing everything and were forced into hard labor routes.
“Get it together. Gotta go back to basics.”
Sitting idly in the plaza, one could witness the full spectrum of human behavior. That, in itself, was a rather entertaining sight.
It was the time when activity reached its peak ahead of the next Survivor Quest.
After delivering food to Jung Da-hoon, I, in the form of a fox, observed the movement of the plaza’s users before standing in front of the intersection crosswalk.
The green light came on. Ding-a-ling~ Just as I was about to step forward at the chime signaling safe passage—
“Hyah, hyah!”
“What the hell, that lunatic!”
“He’s totally psycho!”
There’s a saying: the more desperate a man is, the less he has to lose. A broke user who’d gone bankrupt from gambling stole a wagon and began driving it recklessly, crashing into the passing skeletons.
It all happened in a split second. I tried to step back, but the crowd blocked my way—and just my luck, one of the ribs from a skeleton struck by the carriage went flying… straight at me.
Thud, smack!
Beep beep!!
The user who caused the chaos was quickly apprehended. As the traffic skeletons organized the injured, I, struck in the head by the flying rib, collapsed on the spot.
“The baby fox just got hit by a bone!”
“Shit, the fox is hurt!!”
My consciousness started to fade. The hurried footsteps around me sounded dull and heavy, and my eyes blinked in slow motion. From nearby, I saw the black leather shoes of someone approaching. In that brief moment, which felt like an eternity, my eyes shut.
***
“Those damn pieces of shit! The fox is bleeding!”
When the ‘Fox Who Knows Love’ title was activated, some users had their affection meter marked with a neutral “blue diamond” indicator. Even to them, the baby fox’s accident had landed as a real shock. After all, the fox had already become everyone’s unofficial pet—something the game felt empty without.
Even the local skeleton residents clattered their bones as they looked on at the scene.
“Hey, Kessler! How’s the fox? Is he alive? Hurry, get him to a hospital!”
Kessler, widely known as the baby Arctic Fox’s owner, was being bombarded with nagging voices. But regardless of what was said, he simply stared down at the baby fox—limp in his arms, twitching with spasms.
“Now’s not the time to be out of it! Hurry! Get a wagon and send him off!”
The emergency wagon for the baby Arctic Fox finally arrived. Kessler and the baby fox were swiftly transported to the animal hospital.
The plaza remained in turmoil following the random crosswalk rampage incident. The number of traffic enforcement skeletons increased from two to five, and a chalk outline was drawn on the ground in the exact shape of the fallen skeleton from the accident.
A smaller outline, in the shape of the fox, was drawn at the site where the fox had been injured.
“R.I.P….”
In front of it, white flowers had been laid. Amidst them, a Polaroid photo of the fox smiling with its tongue sticking out.
Returning to the scene, Kessler picked up the photo and tucked it into his pocket. Then, as if trampling over the rest of the flowers, he ground them under his heel with a sharp twist.
Kessler was utterly dumbfounded.
“Who the hell’s the bastard spreading bullshit that the baby fox is dead?”
“Whoa, Kessler, the fox is alive? I heard from Heungchit that—why?”
“I’m gonna bury that bastard right along with the rumor.”
Noticing the gleam in Kessler’s eyes, the nearby user backed away slowly.
「The baby fox is walking again.」
That evening, a dedicated walkway for the fox was installed at the intersection.
***
I had no idea how long I’d been asleep. Something warm and fuzzy was rubbing against my back, and a thin blanket was draped over my belly.
I rubbed my eyes and sat up. I was in a VIP room at an animal hospital, the walls adorned with cute animal illustrations.
[Please set a nickname for your boyfriend.]
My vision felt oddly cluttered. I dragged out the notification window that I’d shoved into a corner and began organizing it—then I saw something unfamiliar.
Relationship Panel. What was that?
‘Kessler’
Nyang-nyang.
[Is “Nyang-nyang” the correct nickname for your boyfriend?
Yes/No]
Why doesn’t this thing recognize pronunciation? I shook my head and typed it out with my front paw.
—Kessler
As soon as I hit the confirm button, Kessler’s current location popped up on the map.
[Kessler’s current location: Shadow Castle intersection.]
…Wait, does that mean he can see my location too?
The moment the ‘Consent to Location Information Sharing Service’ notification popped up, I immediately hit Decline.
[Relationship Panel]: !!! Kessler wants to know your location.
What the hell. As soon as location sharing was disabled, Kessler instantly sent a request to override it. No. Just… Decline.
This is seriously… like a damn couple app.
I went on to check out the other features.
「Voice Message」
‘What’s this now?’
When I tapped it, a timer started counting down in front of my eyes.
Nyang-nyang! Nyang! Nyang!
As soon as I hit end, the message shot up into the sky and vanished somewhere.
I went back to explore more features.
「Day 1 of Love ♡」
It was even keeping track of the days, and in the corner, there was an ad promising a perfect date course for just 1,000 won.
There was also a gallery for saving photos. I tapped it absentmindedly—only to see a polaroid of me sticking out my tongue and grinning.
It was a photo some user had taken when I was eating pudding. How the hell did Kessler end up with this?
[Uploaded by Kessler. 2 hours ago.
Kessler likes this post.]
He uploaded it himself and then liked it himself? What the hell? It was absurd, but reflexively, I ended up hitting “Like” too.
Moments later, something came fluttering down from above and overlapped in my vision, followed by a cheerful ding-ding notification.
[A reply has arrived from Kessler. Redirecting to Voicemail.
「Voicemail」
“You’re awake? Why’d you turn off the location settings? Did you hit it wrong with your front paw? Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there soon.”
—Would you like to reply?]
Nyang!
I gave a quick bark and burrowed deeper into the bed.
“……”
With the next Survival Quest just two days away, I found myself agitated for reasons that had nothing to do with survival.
I didn’t even know features like this existed.
I had triggered it, but honestly, I couldn’t make sense of this situation. I pulled up the notification history from yesterday and reviewed it by timestamp.
[Relationship Panel]: The owner of Shadow Castle has accepted your boyfriend registration request. 10 hours ago.
Fuck.
So from Kessler’s perspective, I’d… asked him out.
I was left speechless at my own audacity. No, but—Kessler was a weirdo too. Why the hell did he accept without hesitation?
Not long after, the door to the animal hospital opened.
“There you are, flower fox.”
Nyang?
From beyond the doorway, Kessler emerged, calling me by some bizarre nickname.
***
Last Shadow, the horror game set in Shadow Castle. That castle, standing alone in a desolate desert, was sustained by feeding on shadows.
And the users were the sacrificial offerings needed to maintain its existence. Through death, users became nourishment for the shadows. Only one user could emerge alive. That lone survivor would be granted a tremendous reward—and then returned to the outside world as bait to lure in the next round of victims.
Old shadows faded with the setting sun, while the new shadows—born from the deaths of users—became the steel frame that held the castle upright.
When the chaos of one feeding frenzy—driven by a thousand users—came to an end, a new train would arrive, bringing in fresh users to be consumed.
When those users died, more would come to replace them.
And in every round, a final survivor would emerge—standing atop the corpses of all the others.
This time, that final survivor had to be me.
Nyang-nyang!
But in reality, I was a fragile baby Arctic Fox who’d ended up hospitalized after getting hit in the head by a flying skeleton bone during a traffic accident.
“You okay? I heard you just fainted from the shock.”
Nyang.
“Are you hurt anywhere? Bark if something hurts.”
Silence.
To Kessler, I was no more than a tiny critter.
He grabbed me in one hand, checked all four of my legs, lifted my tail, and even expertly dusted off a pebble stuck to my fur.
“Let’s go home now. You wanna stay here any longer?”
Shakes head.
As Kessler carried me out in his arms, users who saw me immediately lit up with recognition.
“The fox is alive!”
“Holy crap, the fox really made it—he’s not dead!”
Even the skeleton couple playing on roller skates in the plaza clasped each other’s hands and squeezed out some bone broth, deeply moved by the miracle of survival.
“Who said he died? Look at him, perfectly fine.”
Amid the cheers, Kessler, as if being generous, lifted me higher to show me off, bouncing me lightly in his arms.
And then—
[Relationship Panel]: Kessler has turned ON your location-sharing service. Your current location can now be viewed.
‘This bastard, sneaky as hell…’
Between me and Kessler, a “Couple Option” heart effect exploded into view.
To be honest, I had been a little worried.
What was Kessler thinking, accepting a fox’s confession like that?
I mean—I’m not even human. I’m a baby animal, and I’d asked him to go out with me, and he just immediately accepted?
For a split second, I wondered if he had some weird sexual fetish. But the way he treated me hadn’t changed at all.
Apparently, from the beginning, Kessler had accepted purely because he saw the benefits of acting as my protector.
