I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy

Chapter 78: [Gumiho] (2)

“Chairman, I’ve brought Ha-eun.”

The secretary stepped forward to announce my arrival.

Relief briefly washed over Lee Ji-chul’s worry-lined face.

“Ah, come in. My apologies for the sudden request, but I must ask for your help.”

“It’s fine. I had to handle this sooner or later, so we might as well get it over with now.”

“Thank you for understanding,” he said, his unusually subdued tone catching me off guard.

It was odd seeing the usually confident Chairman so anxious, but considering it was about his granddaughter, it made sense.

“Where’s Lee Soo-rin now?”

“She’s resting in a separate room. At least, her body is.”

“I see. Alright, I’ll take care of it.”

I walked past the group gathered near the door and entered the workshop.

Inside was a single painting—[Gumiho]—hanging on the wall.

‘Not exactly the type to cause mass casualties… This is strange.’

Though I couldn’t make sense of it yet, I’d know more once I stepped in.

“Let Lee Soo-rin go already and play with me instead. It’s been a while.”

The playful voice echoed through the room, and my vision shifted in an instant.

The Illusory Forest

‘It’s been a long time. This forest… feels familiar.’

Though the memories were hazy, I couldn’t forget that day—the first time I met my master and [Gumiho].

The world around me mirrored that memory, the story of our first encounter.

Unlike what I remembered, however, the forest stretched endlessly.

The trees weren’t overgrown but scattered across a vibrant, lush expanse.

The air carried an ethereal quality, like something out of a fairy tale.

“Miho, I don’t have much time. I can’t stay here long,” I called out, cupping my hands around my mouth.

No answer.

‘She knows I’m here. After all, she’s the one who dragged me in.’

There was no way [Gumiho] didn’t know I was here. She was the one who had brought me into her world.

“Mihooo~.”

Still no response, only the sound of the wind weaving through the forest.

I wandered aimlessly, though my steps gradually led me toward a familiar place.

‘She’ll be there. I’m sure of it.’

In the heart of the forest was a small clearing, about the size of a playground.

There, I saw Lee Soo-rin and [Gumiho] playing together.

“Oh, Ha-eun?!”

Soo-rin noticed me immediately, covering her mouth in surprise.

I gave her a polite nod.

“Ahaha, hello! It’s been a while. Uh, Chairman Lee is really worried about you…”

I wanted to apologize for my behavior at the banquet, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Oh! I see. But, um… this fox won’t let me go. What should I do?”

Soo-rinsmiled awkwardly, gesturing to the fox perched on her lap.

It yawned lazily, glancing at me with its sly eyes.

‘Yep, it’s her, alright.’

“Hey, let her go already. You can play with me instead.”

“No.”

“What the—?! The fox can talk?!”

Soo-rin’s shocked expression confirmed that [Gumiho] had been pretending to be an ordinary fox this whole time.

“You dragged her in, but she’s important outside, you know? Time’s running out.”

“Uh… how much time has passed outside?” Soo-rin asked timidly.

I rubbed my temple. The atmosphere of this place was already starting to make me dizzy.

“Probably about three hours.”

“That long…? I wanted to stay longer,” she said wistfully, stroking the fox’s head.

“Could you… maybe let me go?”

“No.”

Though she enjoyed the gentle petting, [Gumiho] was firm in her refusal.

‘Such a cunning brat.’

“Why are you clinging to her? You hate strangers.”

“…She smells like a Master.”

Smells like Master?

I remembered Soo-rin briefly meeting me at the banquet, but it wasn’t enough to transfer a scent.

Still, knowing what [Gumiho] was, it wasn’t entirely surprising.

“Your Master’s here now, so let her go. They’re worried sick outside.”

“Hmph.”

The fox turned its head away before glancing back at Soo-rin.

“Do you have to go? Stay a little longer.”

“Ahaha, sorry. I’ll come back next time, okay? Would that be alright?”

Finally, [Gumiho] turned to me.

“…Fine. I’ll let her go. But you have to come back tomorrow.”

“Thank you! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Soo-rin beamed as she gave the fox a final pat, then looked to me for help.

“Uh… how do I get out?”

I sighed, rubbing my temple again.

A Private Meeting with [Gumiho]

After guiding Soo-rin out, only [Gumiho] and I remained in the clearing.

The fox lay sprawled across a tree stump, looking as carefree as ever.

I picked her up and set her on my head, her usual perch. She didn’t resist, letting out a lazy yawn instead.

This was [Gumiho]’s nature—lazy, playful, and oddly charming.

“Comfy?”

“Mm. This spot’s the best.”

Ever since our first meeting, my head had become her favorite resting place.

This clearing was where my connection with [Gumiho] began.

It was also the place where my journey as an artist took root.

“Did you meet [Siren]?” I broke the silence, glancing at the serene forest around us.

At first glance, it looked peaceful—blue skies and lush greenery.

But the greed inherent to a fox like [Gumiho] was unmistakable.

In this world, however, there was nothing to gain.

The Pinnacle of Boredom

In a past life, I had painted my first piece in a place just like this.

It was during a slump—a time when I questioned my path as an artist.

“Recently, when I came to Korea, I stopped by,” [Gumiho] said nonchalantly.

For all her mischief, she rarely moved unless she absolutely had to. Her laziness bordered on legendary.

“Is that so? Nothing out of the ordinary happened, I hope?”

“Too late to ask that now, don’t you think, Master?”

Her indifferent response left a bitter taste in my mouth.

It echoed what [Siren] had said to me—how late I was to find them.

“…But I’m glad you came back,” she added, her tone softening.

On my head, she shyly nuzzled my hair with her muzzle.

“Why did you torment people? Surely, you had a reason.”

“No big reason… I was bored.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just kidnap people for fun.”

“…I’m sorry.”

Her apology was quiet but genuine. As she spoke, she leapt down from her perch and transformed.

Standing before me now was a small boy with fox ears and nine tails, his form brimming with youthful energy.

His appearance was androgynous, almost ethereal—perfectly crafted to captivate anyone who laid eyes on him.

But those who approached without caution often found themselves in trouble. [Gumiho] loved toying with such people.

“Master,” he called, his voice trembling slightly.

“Speak. Whatever it is, I’ll answer as best I can.”

“Why… Did you abandon us?”

His orange eyes quivered as he stared at me, unblinking.

“You promised to stay with us until the end.”

Now, his voice wavered with the threat of tears.

“Why did you die?”

At last, the tears began to spill, his words turning inward as if blaming himself.

“Did you… hate us?”

I let out a sigh, watching him quietly.

“Come here.”

Hesitating at first, [Gumiho] eventually shuffled toward me.

I reached out and gently ruffled his soft, silken hair. A small smile escaped my lips as I spoke.

“Of course not, you idiot. You’re a part of me, and I’m a part of you. How could I hate you?”

I wiped the tears from his puffy eyes, continuing in a calm voice.

“The problem was with me, not you. Don’t blame yourself for any of it. You spoke with [Siren], right?”

“…Yeah. Said you were going to remake all the masterpieces.”

His voice cracked slightly as he sniffled, the sorrow still lingering in his tone.

“I’ll fix this place, too. I’ll make sure you’re never bored again.”

Seventeen long years had passed in this forest, frozen in time.

For a creature of greed and curiosity like [Gumiho], such a fate was unbearable.

The endless expanse of identical trees offered no new discoveries, no escape.

Despair and monotony had crept into every corner of his existence.

Even when he longed for something, there was nothing to desire. Only trees surrounded him.

That’s why he began luring people into his world. Humans, unlike this forest, were unpredictable.

The illusionary realm might be fabricated, but humans were real. They could offer him the amusement he craved.

And so, [Gumiho] started his tricks, his playful cruelty, which led us to this moment.

“Once I get back, I’ll get to work right away.”

“It’ll be hard… I was your first creation, after all.”

“I know. But what choice do I have? I’ll do what I can.”

“…Don’t leave me again, Master.”

“Not a chance, kid.”

I chuckled, patting his head as he leaned into the touch.

Still, the other masterpieces lingered in my thoughts. Their personalities were far more difficult.

Of all of them, [Dragon]—the embodiment of wrath—was the worst. Just the thought of dealing with him gave me a headache.

He didn’t listen to me, and I doubted that would change anytime soon.

The reason I’d approached [Siren] and [Gumiho] first was simple: they were the least hostile.

They might toy with humans, but they didn’t harbor true malice. Even the incidents attributed to [Gumiho] in Japan weren’t severe.

Despite his antics, [Gumiho] had a soft heart. He likely ended his games before causing serious harm.

At least, no deaths had been reported so far.

“It’s time for me to leave.”

“Don’t go.”

“If I stay here too long, you’ll never see me again. Is that what you want?”

“…Come back tomorrow, then.”

He knew about my condition—probably from [Siren].

Still, having finally reunited, it was clear he didn’t want to let me go.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

Though our reunion had been abrupt, it ended on a positive note.

‘[Gumiho]… This was a watercolor piece, wasn’t it?’

Starting tomorrow, I’ll be busy again.