GNT 6

Episode 6

“Eggplants are selling like crazy today! We’re running out of the stir-fry!”
“Yes! It’s almost done!”

‘Sunhee’s Driver’s Diner’ was known around town for good food at cheap prices — which meant it was always full, weekdays or weekends alike.

And Yeonwoo, who had been working there part-time for several years, had earned the owner’s trust enough to be in charge of half the side dishes.
It was also the longest job Yeonwoo had ever managed to keep, despite getting fired from countless others for one reason or another.

“Yeonwoo, that’s enough for today. You’ve been looking pale since earlier. Take care of your body while you’re young, or you’ll regret it later.”

Madam Sunhee gave Yeonwoo a worried push toward the door. But the hall assistant had already left, and the trays of food were too heavy for her to move alone.

“I’m really fine, ma’am.”
“You only had one bowl of rice today, and you call that fine? Go home and rest, quickly!”

Yeonwoo hadn’t been able to focus much because of all the thoughts weighing her down.
Still, in terms of work, it was actually a lucky day.
She hadn’t slipped and fallen out of nowhere, all the ingredients had arrived fresh, and everything had gone smoothly.

Usually, Yeonwoo could eat three bowls of rice and still not be full, but today her appetite was gone. She barely finished one bowl.

“Well then, I’ll just finish cleaning this up and head out.”

Yielding to the owner’s insistence, Yeonwoo lifted an empty tray, tidied up, and took off her apron.

“I’ll come in early tomorrow and finish sorting the storage, so you should go rest too, ma’am!”

With a polite bow, Yeonwoo slipped out the back door.
She just wanted to go home quickly, brush her tail, and calm the unease that had been clawing at her chest all day.
The thoughts she’d pushed away while working returned all at once, swelling in size the moment she stopped moving.

“Please don’t let something bad happen on the way home…”

A chill pricked at her spine.
Yeonwoo’s instincts were sharp — she always stayed alert.
Her body might be sturdy, but she knew even she couldn’t win against a dump truck going seventy kilometers an hour.

Then suddenly—

Crash!

“What was that?”

It sounded like stacks of dishes falling — from the restaurant she’d just left.
If she hadn’t been on edge, she probably wouldn’t have noticed.

“Ma’am!”

Yeonwoo rushed back inside, slamming open the door — and froze.

There, on the floor, lay Madam Sunhee.

“Ma’am! Please, wake up!”

She knelt and checked for signs of life — pulse, breathing. Thankfully, both were there, but the woman was completely unconscious.
Yeonwoo’s hands trembled as she dialed emergency services.

“Your relationship to the patient?”
“I—I’m a part-timer.”

The hospital staff called the woman’s family using the phone in her apron pocket, leaving Yeonwoo sitting alone in the lobby, clutching that same apron.

Not long after, a group of people burst into the emergency room — loud voices, angry breathing.
One man’s furious steps made Yeonwoo look up — just in time for him to grab her by the collar.

“You!”

Yeonwoo didn’t even resist. She couldn’t. She couldn’t even lift her head.
The man, growing angrier at her silence, shouted in her face:

“How dare you stand here like nothing happened? I knew something bad would happen the moment that cursed fox came near us!”

He was Madam Sunhee’s eldest son — and one of the few who knew Yeonwoo was a fox beastkin.
Normally, Yeonwoo would’ve defended herself — said that having a fox nearby wasn’t bad luck, just superstition.

But now… she couldn’t.
Even knowing how absurd it was, part of her feared he might be right — that somehow, her misfortune had spread to the woman who’d been kind to her.

“You picked the wrong day to show up.”

He rolled up his sleeves, his hand rising — but Yeonwoo didn’t move to block him.
Maybe she really had caused this.
Her eyes squeezed shut in dread.

Then another voice broke in — a middle-aged woman, the man’s sister, holding him back.

“Oppa, stop making a scene! Whatever happened, she’s the one who brought Mom here. The doctor said if she’d been any later, it could’ve been serious.”

“Don’t twist it! It’s because of that fox this happened in the first place!
Mom should’ve fired her ages ago. Hah, giving the disease and the cure — how noble!”

Yeonwoo was used to it — the insults, the disgust.
The laws had changed, sure, but people hadn’t.
Especially toward beastkin with “bad” reputations — wolves, snakes, foxes — prejudice ran deep.

And Yeonwoo, a red fox beastkin, was the worst of all — cursed, they said, to bring ruin wherever she went.

The woman threw her brother a glare and dragged him toward the ward, but before leaving, she turned slightly and said to Yeonwoo,

“Mother’s stable now. You should go.”

That one line — “Mother’s stable now” — was enough.
The strength drained from Yeonwoo’s fingers, her palms aching from how tightly she’d been clenching them.

The son shouted from afar, still fuming as he left:

“We’re closing down the restaurant, so get lost!
If I ever see your face again, I’ll make sure you can’t show it anywhere!
Damn fox!”

The words hit harder than any slap could’ve.
When he finally disappeared down the hall, the rest of the family began talking about sending Madam Soonhee to a care home.

Yeonwoo walked out of the emergency room, but her feet wouldn’t carry her home.
She sank onto a bench in the parking lot, her body heavy as stone.

After a while, she glanced up — and caught sight of herself reflected in the glass across from her.

“Ah…”

Her heart skipped.
Her fox ears were out — fully visible.

No wonder the man had shouted about “that face.”
Panicked, Yeonwoo tried to tuck them away, but no matter how hard she concentrated, they wouldn’t disappear.

“Why… won’t they hide?”

Her ears just drooped pitifully backward.
And worse, the base of her spine itched — her tail was threatening to come out too.

She jumped up in alarm, hurrying between parked cars, trying to hide her body.

She’d never hated herself for being born in an illegal breeding den or for losing her fox marble and being forced to live alone, without a pack.
She’d told herself that blaming fate wouldn’t make surviving any easier.

But numbness wasn’t the same as peace.
What she’d mistaken for acceptance… was just exhaustion.

The sorrow buried deep in her chest rose up like bile, choking her.
She pressed a hand to her mouth to keep from sobbing aloud, tears spilling silently down her cheeks.

She stayed like that for a long while — weeping without sound, until her whole body felt frozen.

Only when her trembling eased did she finally make it home.

She stripped off her clothes and burrowed into the thick blanket, curling up small.

The blanket rose slightly… then fell, as a fluffy red tail slipped out.

“Cold…”

Her ears and tail drooped weakly.
Even after crying so much, the heaviness in her chest didn’t lift.
Listless and empty, Yeonwoo lay there, staring blankly into the dark.

The little rooftop room, quiet as ever —
felt unbearably lonely tonight.