The fox’s shadow had gained a scent, but that didn’t mean the work was finished. So, even after that, he remained there for quite a while.
Jung Da-hoon demanded more poses than expected.
If the “Away” status persisted for more than thirty minutes, it was deemed Sleep Mode, which meant Jung Da-hoon’s work would halt. Because of that, even during meals, I had to log in every half hour like clockwork to keep myself marked as online.
Dozing off… nodding…
“Aigo, Pro, you’re working so hard.”
“It’s fine. Da-hoon is working even harder, isn’t he?”
“Sniff… You’re worried about me?”
Kessler, who found this pitiful, tried to subtly extend the “Away” threshold for just our two accounts to three hours using his admin privileges. But the company had a strict rule: “Everything must go through a trial phase on the test server before it’s applied to the main server.”
“I’m sorry for being such a useless husband.”
“It’s okay… but do you still think you’re a fox?”
Kessler licked my cheek as he said that. He’d always been pretty affectionate, but now that I was spending more time logged into the game, his gestures in real life had started changing too.
Like a fox marking its territory, he started expressing his affection that way in real life.
“Pfft. Seriously, what would we have done if they hadn’t come out with the portable console?”
Despite Kessler’s worries, I’d already grown used to this lifestyle. Like lifting up a pair of ski goggles, I’d flip on the portable VR gear and enjoy my coffee break. It wasn’t too uncomfortable since I could still function in daily life even with it loosely perched on my head.
When the time came, I’d put on the device, enter the game, and wag my tail, pretending to focus on my modeling job. Every time I did, the tense crease in Jung Da-hoon’s brow would gradually relax.
Even though the intervals weren’t long, the inside of Da-hoon’s workshop would subtly change each time I logged in.
Sometimes, black shadow foxes lay sprawled across the sleeping Kessler-fox’s body like limp puppets. Other times, they disguised themselves as mold on the wall, trying to stay hidden.
“Look at them hiding to avoid fusion. The individual shadows resemble you, Pro—they’re sharp.”
Those shadows were being fused again and again, gradually evolving into a higher-quality creation.
Two weeks passed like that, and it was finally the last day of my vacation.
The day before returning to work, I woke up as usual and logged into the game as if I were clocking in.
Nyang.
“Ah, Pro, you’ve logged in?”
With a yawn and a stretch, I looked ahead to find Jung Da-hoon—who was usually always busy working—leisurely gazing out the window for once.
I quickly scanned the room. All the large, scattered shadows that had previously cluttered the workshop were now gone.
Nyang.
And then, as Da-hoon turned toward me, I came face to face with a black shadow in the shape of a baby fox. The fox, cradled gently in Da-hoon’s arms, stared directly at me. It was unlike any of the shadows I’d seen before.
There was something dense and elastic about this shadow. Even compared to the previous finished pieces that boosted the Art stat, this one felt distinctly different.
As proof, the moment our eyes met, goosebumps rippled across my arm.
Nyang.
“You’ve finally completed it.”
“I ended up using the full 14 days of your vacation, didn’t I?”
“That’s not a problem.”
Just as I stepped forward to encourage him—
[!!!]
[!!!]
[!!!]
Exclamation marks popped up in rapid succession above the baby fox shadow’s head.
[System]: The masterpiece by the Ultimate Ceramist is a 100% match with your model. The creation, the shadow, wishes to be bound to you.
“…Huh?”
The fox leapt out of Da-hoon’s arms and tilted its head with curiosity, then began circling around me in a little dance.
Nyang, nyang-nyang, nyang-nyang nyang.
Then it started rubbing its body against me. The gesture was almost identical to how Kessler marked his territory.
[System]: The Shadow Fox wishes to become your shadow.
This was a real problem.
Though it had been created as a substitute to mimic me, it was undeniably a work of Jung Da-hoon. Just because I was its model didn’t mean I could rob him of ownership.
I was about to hit “Decline”—
“Pro, the Shadow Fox wants to be bound to you. I think you need to accept.”
Nyang.
The shadow fox let out a tiny bark, urging me to hurry and accept.
“But…”
“Don’t worry about anything else—just do it for now. I may be the creator, but since this fox has been programmed with free will, it won’t listen to me.”
“…Understood. Accept.”
I stopped resisting and accepted the request. A bright light flared, and the shadow fox was absorbed into my shadow.
[System]: The final masterpiece of the Ultimate Ceramist, Jung Da-hoon, ‘Shadow Fox’ has merged with your shadow and become a part of you. This fox, a perfect replica of you, is flawless. It can even carry out your tasks while you’re away from the Shadow Castle.
The Shadow Fox is another you. Give it any task—anything is possible! All stats, abilities, and allowances acquired by the Shadow Fox will be credited to you.
Even better, I could summon and dismiss it at will. When dismissed, it slipped right back into my shadow; when summoned, it emerged with a soft swoosh.
After a few cycles of summoning and dismissing, I turned to look at Jung Da-hoon.
“I should’ve said this earlier, but congratulations, Da-hoon. On achieving Job Master.”
“Thank you. It’s all thanks to you, Pro, and to Ju Hak-beom for his unwavering support.”
“Good news for Mr. Ju Hak-beom, then.”
Lately, Ju Hak-Beom had been practically imprisoned. The overprotection from the skulls had become even more extreme.
Ever since he founded the ‘Fox Church’ and charmed every NPC’s heart, many players began to harbor resentment toward him. Some had even formed a clan called ‘Hunter Corps’ specifically to target the High Priest Fox.
He’d already been killed several times by their hands. Fortunately, with the new system in this season—death incurred penalties but allowed for revival—he’d come back each time. Still, his level and skill stats had taken a hit.
Not that it made any real difference. The skulls loved the fox himself, not the powers he provided, so they didn’t care if his abilities had dropped.
But every time Ju Hak-Beom died, the skulls mourned deeply. Eventually, for his own safety, he was locked inside a cage surrounded by multiple layers of protection.
“At last, Mr. Ju Hak-beom has a chance to reclaim his freedom. He’s probably been waiting for this day.”
I summoned the Shadow Fox again. Then I input its task as it tilted its head, curious.
“You’re now the High Priest of the Fox Church. Bring joy to the Shin-skulls.”
–Nyang.
The jet-black Shadow Fox parted its mouth slightly and gave a soft answer.
Jung Da-hoon and I stood side by side, watching the dignified figure of the Shadow Fox walking away.
***
The moment the Shadow Fox stepped out of the studio, history began to rewrite itself.
–Nyang.
No sooner had it exited than it encountered Arctic Skull—white-tailed and wide-eyed—who gently scooped the Shadow Fox into its arms.
–Why are you here?”
[System]: Resident ‘Arctic Skull’ has recognized the Shadow Fox as ‘High Priest.’
[System]: Resident ‘Engol’ has recognized the Shadow Fox as ‘High Priest.’
[System]: Resident ‘Point Skull’ has recognized the Shadow Fox as…
By the time the Shadow Fox reached the lobby, the notifications began pouring in more rapidly.
[System]: Director of Bone Density Enhancement Center, ‘Brush Skull,’ has recognized the Shadow Fox as ‘High Priest’! All of Brush Skull’s subordinates will now recognize the Shadow Fox as High Priest.
[System]: If more than 50% of residents recognize the ‘Shadow Fox’ as High Priest, the ownership of the Fox Church will be transferred. However, this recognition can change at any time—it defaults to the last person seen.
“If over half the residents recognize the Shadow Fox as High Priest, it says the church’s ownership will be transferred. While Ju Hak-beom is still confined, we have to parade the fox all over town to make sure it’s seen by at least half the skeletons.”
Jung Da-hoon and I looked out the window.
That’s when the smooth plan hit a snag.
Prioritizing the fox’s safety, one of the skulls picked up the Shadow Fox.
The fox flailed its four legs in the air as it was carried off.
“That skeleton must’ve identified the fox as the High Priest and is trying to move it to a safer place. What now? No—look, the other skeletons are all joining in to relocate the fox to safety.”
–Safety-first nyang-gol-gol
–Nyang, nyang-nyang-gol-gol
As the skeletons surrounded the area, tails swishing and alert for threats, Jung Da-hoon’s anxiety deepened.
“At this rate, the Shadow Fox will get locked up in a room before it can reach 50% recognition… Lately, with so many players targeting the High Priest, there aren’t even public prayer sessions anymore. What do we do?”
“Don’t worry. Just take care of my husband for me.”
I yanked the black blanket off the sleeping Kessler and wrapped it around my body. Then I jumped out the window.
“Dismiss Summon.”
At that, the flailing Shadow Fox was sucked back into my shadow.
–Gol??
While the skulls looked around in confusion, I bolted away and reached the far eastern edge of the city, where I summoned the Shadow Fox again.
[System]: Summoning Shadow Fox.
Surprised by its sudden appearance, the closest Residentgol rushed over and picked it up. As they walked, system notifications kept popping up—more and more residents were recognizing the fox as the High Priest.
The moment I crossed the plaza, I dismissed it again.
Persuasion Rate: 2%
Next stop: the western edge.
