Chapter 61

The handcart standing under the streetlight looked as if it might topple at any moment.
Stacks of discarded cardboard piled over a metal frame.

The hallway scene from Young-chun’s place.

The missing item had been Young-chun’s parcel. Yet the Styrofoam box from the next door remained perfectly untouched.

The torn cardboard piece found at the second apartment he visited.

He couldn’t be certain but he could check.

He had spent years chasing massive shadows, operating far beyond standard procedure under the title of Special Beast Investigation Unit consultant.

But this time was different. The case was small, so mundane it felt ridiculous.

Even so—

What bothered him wasn’t the culprit’s shadow… but the thought of overlooking something trivial.

He didn’t know where this clue might lead… but he refused to ignore it.

“Sir.”

Beomjin suddenly spoke. Young-chun, who had been walking behind him, stopped.

“Mm?”

“The person you mentioned earlier—the one who pushes the handcart. You said he’s a Goat Beast-Blooded.”

“Yeah, what about him?”

“Let’s go meet him tomorrow morning.”

Young-chun scratched his head at the suggestion.

“Tomorrow? Didn’t we say we’d meet in the afternoon?”

“Let’s move things up. I have something to confirm.”

With a puzzled look, Young-chun stared for a moment before letting out a laugh.

“Heh, alright. But he works from dawn, so we’ll need to head out in a few hours.”

“In work like this, time doesn’t matter.”

Kang-ju mumbled from behind, eyes half-closed in fatigue.

“…You’re not seriously planning to investigate the guy collecting cardboard, right?”

Instead of answering, Beomjin looked back at the handcart. Then he turned to Kang-ju.

“Who knows…”

The morning air was colder than he expected. Sunlight spilled across the street, but the day’s warmth still felt half-asleep.

Near the recycling depot Young-chun mentioned, down a narrow alley, a worn handcart creaked along beside the garbage collection wall.

“There he is. I’d know that back anywhere. Hey! Yeomu!”

Young-chun waved as he approached. The man pulling the cart turned. A thin frame hunched beneath a light jacket; eyes gentle above a loose mask hiding most of his face.

“Oh, Young-chun?”

He stopped, slowly straightening his bent waist.

“You’re still doing this job?”

A casual remark, tossed while shaking hands—and Yeomu’s smile trembled ever so slightly.

“Well… gotta survive somehow.”

“That’s why I told you before. Back then too—”

“Let’s keep the greetings short.”

Noticing Yeomu’s expression darken, Beomjin quietly cut in.

Yeomu’s gaze shifted to him, startled. His voice wavered.

“And you are…?”

Beomjin took out his ID card from his wallet.

“Baek Beomjin, Special Beast Investigation Unit. I’d like to ask a few questions.”

A subtle twitch formed between Yeomu’s brows. But he quickly forced a smile.

“Of course. Anything I can help with.”

“There’ve been a few parcel thefts around here recently. Heard anything about that?”

“Um… no. Nothing like that.”

His tone was calm. But Beomjin noticed the faint tremble in his fingertips.

“There was another case just yesterday. From Young-chun’s home.”

“R-Really? I had no idea. These days, people are just…”

“But the package next door wasn’t touched. Strange, isn’t it?”

Yeomu looked away, unable to answer.

Beomjin recalled a line from the Beast-Blooded Encyclopedia, Revised Edition—specifically, the Goat section:

Some Goat Beast-Blooded occasionally eat paper as a special treat.

Edible boxes vs. inedible ones.

“Styrofoam isn’t digestible.”

Yeomu’s heartbeat spiked.

“Huh?”

For their sake, Beomjin clarified to the confused Kang-ju and Young-chun:

“Paper can be eaten. Styrofoam can’t. And goats sometimes eat paper.”

Young-chun blinked at Yeomu.

“…No way. Hey, you still haven’t kicked that habit? Wait—hold on….”

Yeomu’s expression hardened.

“What are you talking about?”

“He once ate paper like it was a joke. He showed me before.”

“Wh–what are you saying?!”

Yeomu’s face flushed as he shouted.

“Why would I eat paper? Don’t spread weird rumors!”

“It’s not a rumor. You showed me yourself. Back when I was working at the station, you tore up a badly printed document and chewed it.”

“T-That was just once, by accident!”

Even with the mask covering him, Yeomu’s expression was visibly collapsing. His eyebrows twitched, his lips quivered like there was an earthquake beneath them—panic, indignation, and a desperate urge to hide something all tangled on his face.

Beomjin quietly stepped forward, shielding Young-chun from the tension.

“Would you mind if I check your cart for a moment?”

A simple request—yet the moment those words dropped, even Young-chun jumped in surprise. Beomjin didn’t expect to see sweat slide down the old man’s hollow cheekbones and disappear under his mask.

“…W-Why?”

“I just need to take a look. Very briefly.”

Caught between the three gazes, Yeomu slowly stepped back, shutting his eyes tight.

Beomjin carefully inspected the almost empty cart.

Inside were messy heaps of cardboard and scrap paper, with damp newspapers and stray cup lids crumpled toward the bottom.

Deep within that, a black plastic bag was partially hooked and hidden. When his hand touched the bag—Yeomu let out a strangled cry.

“Ah! That—!”

Inside were shipping label stickers—torn clean off parcel boxes.

“Huh? What’s this?”

Young-chun rushed over and rifled through the labels. He soon found his own name written on one. His address, phone number—everything—and his face trembled with fury while Yeomu’s went pale as chalk.

Beomjin picked up the label with Young-chun’s name. His voice remained gentle as he addressed Yeomu.

“Would you explain this?”

Silence.

Sparrows fluttered overhead, slicing through the cool dawn air with noisy chirps.

“…Is this real?”

What Young-chun felt was disappointment. Nothing else.

“Why? Why would you do that? Aren’t we friends?”

Yeomu stared at the ground, exhaling a long, shaky sigh before finally lifting his head.
His eyes—creased with age—held emotions too tangled to define.

“…At first, it was a joke. You kept looking down on me, so I wanted to mess with you a little.”

“Looking down? When did I ever do that?”

“You did it earlier too… acting like collecting boxes is something to sneer at. What makes you so great….”

A flicker of flame surged in Yeomu’s eyes—pride, resentment, and buried anger flaring for a heartbeat—but the fire died before it could even burn.

Head bowed, he gripped the cart handles with both hands.

“…So at first, I did it once or twice as a prank. I hated the way you talked to me, and… well… it gave me a thrill. Helped me out a bit too… and then…”

His voice shrank to a whisper. Only regret remained in the silence that followed.

After listening without interruption, Beomjin finally spoke.

“But it’s still a crime.”

The words were quiet—but fell like a concrete wall. Yeomu’s shoulders caved inward.

“…I’m sorry.”

He nodded, then lifted his face toward Young-chun. His eyes trembled, glistening like an old wound reopening.

Young-chun didn’t speak at first. His lips parted, closed, parted againthen he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I… shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry too.”

“No… I’m the one who did wrong. I’ll take responsibility for the damages and compensate everyone properly.”

Yeomu no longer avoided anything. He raised his chin firmly and bowed his head toward Beomjin.

“And… I’m truly sorry, Young-chun.”

In that moment—years of unspoken resentment between the two neighbors finally began to loosen. Clumsy, awkward… but real.

Young-chun nodded stiffly, while Kang-ju gnawed nervously at his thumbnail from behind.

“…We don’t have to go all the way to the police station, right…?”

Though Young-chun tried to stop him, Yeomu silently pushed his cart back.

“I didn’t only cause trouble for you. I used to be police too—so I’ll close this the proper way.”

Head held high, he turned around quietly. His shoulders were still thin… but his steps were firmer than before.

Morning sunlight slowly crept over the alley.

“…That’s it?”

After watching for a long moment, Kang-ju murmured. He looked drained—let down by how unremarkable the ending was.

Beomjin inhaled once, nodding.

“Not every case ends with a big explosion. Some end quietly… barely making a sound.”

Kang-ju shrugged, smiling faintly.

“True. A thief who eats boxes—that’s a first in my life.”

Beomjin let out a small, tired laugh. A hint of defeat, but also acceptance of the dull grind of reality.

He opened the car door, pausing to glance around—

The handcart.

The closed doors.

The cool air.

The morning sun.

The childish graffiti on the doorbell remained—still a question with no answer. Whether it was meaningless doodling or a missing puzzle piece he hadn’t reached yet—he decided not to think about it.

Today, this was enough.

A moment to breathe.

The break didn’t last. The morning he returned to work was gray and heavy. Not his mood—just the weather refusing to clear. As if the sky itself had thrown on sunglasses and refused to shine. Even the coffee tasted bitter.

Special Beast Investigation Unit Headquarters.

Agents passing by greeted him as he stepped into the office.

“Hello! Long time no see.”

“Good morning, Agent Baek.”

He nodded back—then spotted Jinyoung.

She looked thinner than he remembered.

Dark circles under her eyes, hair cut messily into a bob.

“Hey. It’s been a while.”

Jinyoung greeted him weakly, then flopped onto her desk like a corpse.

“What’s wrong? You look awful.”

“…Just tired. I’m living with Seoyul right now, remember?”

He already knew that while Risa recovered, Seoyul was staying with Jinyoung.

“But she’s a good kid.”

Jinyoung shot him a sharp glare.

“She is, but she drains me. Living with a Dragon isn’t exactly easy.”

“Didn’t Risa handle her just fine?”

“I don’t know what kind of magic Risa used… maybe I should call and ask.”

As they traded small talk, a strange scent brushed past.

Beomjin turned—and saw a woman striding out of the elevator with a commanding presence.

Long wavy hair flowing behind her—she looked almost two meters tall, massive in build. In front of her, Suchan walked proudly, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

Every pair of eyes in HQ fell on her.

Suchan spoke with excitement:

“Everyone! This is the leader of our newly established Special Cases Task Force—Lee Taeryeon! Please welcome her.”

Taeryeon stepped forward with her hands clasped behind her back.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Lee Taeryeon, the new Chief of the Special Cases Task Force. I look forward to working with you.”

As she spoke—the coffee cup in Beomjin’s hand trembled.

That fearless stare.

That monstrous strength.

The way she charged through the battlefield like a tank.

Memories from before the regression writhed inside him.

A sharp pain stabbed behind his eyes, like a nail driven into his skull.

Lee Taeryeon.

The Elephant Beast-Blooded—who once fought fiercely under Jin Geonmyeong.