Chapter 23

The cold barley tea helped settle his body. Sun-ae went inside with her shopping bag, while Sun-woong shook out the duster and prepared to open the shop. After circling the store once, Sun-woong sat across from Beomjin. Rubbing his knee with a bitter click of the tongue, he asked:

“What brings you here today? Doesn’t seem like you came for another dose of Seomdan.”

“I wanted to hear about something else today.”

“Something else? Well then, spit it out.”

His eyes glinted, somewhere between knowing and pretending not to. Beomjin hesitated as the image of Mugwon rose in his mind, which in turn blurred into the memory of Uwan.

“Want some more barley tea?”

“…Yes, thank you.”

Sun-woong took the empty cup and went inside. Beomjin took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his hands. At times he still saw, superimposed over his own, the beast’s bloodied hands.

“Tsk, tsk.”

Returning, Sun-woong clicked his tongue, walking over with heavy steps and placing the refilled cup down.

“Your blood’s been running backwards, hasn’t it? That’s what you came to talk about, right?”

Beomjin frowned, not fully grasping what he meant, until Sun-woong clasped his hand. The rough, scratchy touch tickled strangely.

“Your hands changed, didn’t they? Hair sprouting thick, claws growing out, your vision going white, then no memory afterwards?”

“How did you know that?”

Beomjin’s eyes widened.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Sun-woong clicked his tongue again and patted his hand.

“You’ve been through it, you poor thing.”

“You know what it is?”

“Of course.”

Tracing a circle over Beomjin’s body, he continued:

“The beast blood running through you got flipped. The blood, the energy—everything reversed. And your willpower couldn’t hold against it.”

“I don’t really get it. Could you explain a bit more?”

Though vague, it was obvious Sun-woong knew something. He fetched a scrap of paper and a pen, sketching a rough human figure as he spoke.

“You and I both carry beast blood. Normally, human blood keeps it balanced, but sometimes the balance breaks. The gentle part gets devoured by the wild beast.”

“When the balance breaks…?”

“It could be when your life’s hanging by a thread, or when you lose your temper and your mind slips. Lots of reasons.”

“I saw my hand change into something like a cat’s paw. Was that the same thing?”

“Exactly! That’s what happens when your blood flips completely. Your body changes with it.”

He could grasp the gist of it, but his doubts weren’t gone.

“Then will this keep happening in the future?”

He didn’t want to lose himself, to turn beast and end up drenched in blood again. Beomjin’s tension was obvious, but Sun-woong looked unworried.

“No. It doesn’t just happen whenever. It’s only possible. Once you get older and used to handling your power, it almost never happens. …Maybe it’s because you downed two Seomdan? Anyway, don’t worry.”

He brushed it off easily, leaving Beomjin feeling as though a weight had been lifted, even if not completely.

“I’m glad it won’t happen again.”

“Forget the shock and just be careful from now on. Did you eat breakfast?”

“I had something simple.”

“If you’re still hungry…”

Rising from his seat, Sun-woong turned toward the door. The hurried thud of footsteps came closer. Beomjin’s nose twitched as he turned too.

“Boss! Please help!!”

The person bursting in was Yewon, the owner of Duru Art.

“Kyah!”

The moment she spotted Beomjin, Yewon screamed.

“Oh my, are you alright?”

She staggered but steadied herself, pressing a hand to her chest.

“Y-Yes, I’m fine. It’s just—suddenly, a tiger appeared.”

The déjà vu of it all made Beomjin add his line too.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you…”

“Cranes have sharp eyes, that’s why they get startled easily. But what happened? Is there a fire somewhere?”

Yewon, who had nearly forgotten why she’d come, stamped her feet in a rush.

“No, something important was stolen!”

“What’s all this commotion about?”

Hearing the fuss, Sun-ae came out wearing rubber gloves. When she spotted Yewon, she clapped her hands and hopped with delight.

“What a pleasant surprise, first thing in the morning!”

“Auntie, our shop was robbed!”

Thrown into Sun-ae’s arms, Yewon looked nothing like the elegant owner of an antique shop—more like a panicked child.

“A thief? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine. But what do I do? It was something really, really precious.”

“Then of course you should call the police!”

Sun-woong barked, exasperated. But Sun-ae and Yewon reacted differently than he expected.

“Why are you yelling? You think she didn’t consider that already?”

“I’m just uneasy about handing it over to normal police. It’s something dangerous and delicate, it needs careful handling.”

“What’s there to worry about? Instead of the police, just ask the tiger here.”

…Wait, what?

Beomjin already knew this case. There had been a theft at Duru Art, and he and Jinyoung had been assigned to it. It was not long after he’d joined the Special Beast Investigation Unit. Complicated, exhausting, and though they recovered the stolen item, the ending had been anything but clean. The case had left a bitter aftertaste.

Aside from the case, Yewon’s hidden side surprised him too. She always seemed flawless, yet her clumsy, flustered panic now felt like a refreshing shock.

“Him? Who is he?”

“Special Beast Investigation Unit, Baek Beomjin.”

He answered her innocent question, but Yewon still looked blank.

“What’s the Special Beast Investigation Unit?”

How was he supposed to answer that? His mind froze for a second, mouth fumbling, until Sun-ae stepped in.

“My, how have you run a shop this long without knowing? They’re like the police. When people like us have trouble, they swoop in and solve it all.”

“Oh my! I didn’t know such a thing even existed. Then you can help me?”

“Right now?”

Sensing he was being swept into something, Beomjin asked carefully.

“Please help her! This girl deals with old items around here, lots of rare and important things, so all kinds of trouble comes her way.”

“Sure. I’ll contact that Swallow kid myself. That makes it all fine, right?”

Of course—that time, Suchan had been the one to hand the case to him and Jinyoung. He never realized a scene like this had been hiding behind it.

“Understood. I should at least confirm what’s going on.”

He agreed smoothly, though he had no real intention of taking the case. It had nothing to do with Dragon, and the travel back and forth to the provinces was far too bothersome. He planned to appease them politely, then pass it off to another agent.

“See? Just like I said, this Tiger’s reliable. Leave it to him, he’ll do a fine job.”

“Should I guide you right away?”

Her enthusiasm lit up the room. Swept up in the moment, he rose to follow Yewon—another step toward meeting his past.

The closer they got to Duru Art, the warmer his nostalgia grew. The narrow path barely wide enough for one person wound upward until they reached a weathered wooden gate. If not for the painted sign on the wall, it could easily be mistaken for a fortune-teller’s den, so peculiar was the atmosphere.

“Here we are.”

Yewon beamed like a home-shopping host as she unlocked the gate.

“Being tucked away this deep in the alley, isn’t it hard for customers to find?”

It was the same question he’d wondered before. To it, Yewon simply smiled.

“That’s what makes it special. I don’t like noisy, crowded places. Neither do my kids.”

“Kids?”

“Yes, the ones in the shop.”

He remembered then—she called the antiques in her store her “kids.” The way she dusted and polished them daily, handling each piece with care, was admirable. But calling them children was something he could never quite get used to.

Inside the gate stretched a small garden, gravel and grass intermingled. To the left sat a modest pond; to the right, a white outdoor table and chairs. Incense burned atop the table, its soft fragrance drifting on the breeze.

Beyond the garden stood the main building. Unlike the rustic gate, it was clean and dignified, its tiled roof and sturdy wooden pillars exuding traditional grace and quiet strength.

When they entered through the glass door, a cramped space of barely eight pyeong (about 26 square meters) overflowed with antiques. On the central table stood porcelain, wooden carvings, and gilded statuettes. Along the walls, tables held ornaments, bronze mirrors, and other trinkets stacked in layers.

Long shelves hung with random items crowded the walls, while a pendulum clock, picture frames, and mirrors gave the room a general-store atmosphere.

“Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water is fine.”

Honey water came to mind, but he didn’t want to seem too familiar. Beomjin strolled casually, inspecting the displays. Some items sparked instant recognition—“That one!”—while others seemed utterly unfamiliar, as if he were seeing them for the first time.

Halfway through, he reached the counter. Beside it, inside a glass case, were several old books. He remembered them clearly.

“You’ve been waiting, haven’t you?”

Carrying a tray, Yewon noticed him peering into the case.

“Have you been here before?”

“No. First time. You have wonderful items.”

“Thank you. Here.”

A white porcelain cup, faintly translucent, was beaded with droplets of water.

“Funny, for a shop that was robbed, it doesn’t look messy.”

“That’s why I realized so late something was stolen.”

“What was taken?”

Beomjin already knew. Suchan had handed him a thick folder describing the stolen items. Even now he recalled the book’s title vividly.

“A small old book called Manual of Music Theory. It’s not thick. The paper’s made from bamboo, light and sturdy.”

Manual of Music Theory was a compilation of musical scores. According to Yewon, only a few copies had been produced in the Silla era, and hers was the last surviving one. It wasn’t for sale, so she had kept it separately—only for it to be stolen.

“I kept it in that very display case you were just looking at. This morning, when I checked… it was gone. I treasured it dearly. Please, I beg you, find it.”

“I’ll file the case report and… excuse me.”

His phone rang. It was Jinyoung. He answered, only for her voice to fire back at once.

“Hello? You’re at the antique shop right now, aren’t you?”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“The Director said so. I’m on my way there. Don’t go anywhere.”

“You’re coming here? Why?”

“They said something was stolen. I’m to work with you and track it down. I’m leaving now—wait there!!”

“Hey, wait—!”

But the call had already cut off. This wasn’t how he wanted things to go.

Beomjin’s uneasy eyes wavered, and Yewon cautiously asked:

“Are you alright? Was it bad news?”

“N-No, nothing like that.”

He had to mask his alarm.

“Seems the owner of Seongwondang called directly. My colleague’s on the way here now.”

“Oh! Isn’t that good news?”

“Haha… I suppose it is.”

Behind the awkward laugh, his insides burned. He didn’t want to waste time on a case like this.

“Then you’ll find the stolen book?”

“If not me, my fellow agents will take care of it. Don’t worry.”

“Oh… so you won’t investigate personally?”

Her eyebrows, her lips, even her tone brimmed with disappointment. Her dejected look shook him for a moment, but Beomjin stayed firm.

“You can trust my colleague. She’s bear-blooded, dependable, and my senior.”

“I had hoped you’d handle it yourself. There’s no one more reassuring than a tiger.”

There was no sweeter praise. But he wasn’t about to be swayed by flattery.

“Another agent will arrive soon. I’ll be taking my leave.”

He bowed politely and turned.

“That’s a shame. If it were a tiger, maybe even dragon could be caught…”

Dragon?

Beomjin froze mid-step. To make sure he hadn’t misheard, he spun around.

“Wait. Did you just say dragon?”

Yewon bit her lower lip, then gave a small nod.

“Yes. Dragon.”