TBML 24

“I’m sorry.”

Yeon spoke the apology into the air—an apology the black tiger could never understand. He’d said it in hopes of easing his guilt, but the moment the words left his mouth, an even heavier wave of guilt surged over him.

“Sorry, my ass. Get it together, Yeon.”

Mercy and compassion were luxuries afforded only to those who had the means. Apologizing to a tiger that couldn’t even comprehend human speech? Guilt? It was all absurd. The one before him was a beast that could tear off a man’s arm or leg in a single bite. Even if he apologized, it wasn’t as if the tiger would understand and say, “Ah, I see. You have your reasons. All right then, go ahead and kill me.” It was meaningless.

And “sorry”? From whom to whom? A hunter feeling such sentiment toward prey—it was no different than a beggar offering charity. That hollow pity only made the recipient seem even more wretched, a creature to be pitied by even the lowest of the low. In the end, it did nothing but drag the one being apologized to into an abyss.

Those yellow eyes that had stared at him lingered in his mind. He owed the black tiger something. No matter how hard he steeled himself, the thought kept circling through his head.

Owe what? It was a beast that couldn’t even speak. Even if the black tiger possessed something akin to human reason, Yeon had killed its mother—he would be an unforgivable enemy. If they met and tore each other apart, neither would be in the wrong.

Yeon splashed cold water onto his face once more, ordering himself to stop such foolish thoughts and stay sharp. There was no other choice. Tigers were animals that lived in the mountains and hunted to survive. And to survive himself, Yeon had to kill the tiger. It was a reality as cold and brutal as the water that numbed his fingertips.

As he kept splashing the icy water over his face, even his dirtied, weary features managed to shine with a quiet brilliance.

“In your next life, be born a human, and I’ll be the beast. Tear me apart, grind my bones, and drink me.”

Thinking of the black tiger, Yeon muttered the words to himself, letting out a bitter, hollow laugh. What did it matter anyway? Since the day he learned the trade of hunting, he’d killed enough rabbits to fill a cart, and how many other tigers had he exchanged for one hundred nyang? Back then, he’d been thrilled to have a handful of coins, to have enough to throw in the faces of the debt collectors who stormed into his home, breaking what little furniture he had, screaming for interest payments.

And yet now, when it came to this black tiger, he hesitated. He felt sorry. It was so contradictory, it was almost laughable.

Yeon stood from the stream. After crouching for so long, he felt a bit dizzy. But he had made up his mind—there would be time for regret after everything was over. That was the way of human life: mistake after mistake, regret after regret, contradiction after contradiction.

He unwrapped the cloth and drew out his matchlock. Then he turned in the direction where the black tiger’s traces were scattered thick across the ground.

It would’ve been easier if I’d never seen it at all.

Not long after Yeon set off with his resolve hardened, he caught sight of the black tiger’s tail, swaying lazily. It was seated, utterly at ease, tapping its tail on the ground while watching a few crows hop about—carefree, like a child untouched by the world.

The distance was fairly great, but Yeon could see everything: how the black tiger’s fur rippled with each breath, how its claws poked between its thick toes. His earlier pangs of guilt vanished without a trace. The first thing that came to mind was the fact that high-quality tiger pelts fetched the best price when the claws were still intact and fierce-looking.

Cruel. Truly cruel. While he scorned the world for its harshness, he himself was the most cold-hearted and materialistic of them all.

Lowering his body like a hunting beast, Yeon moved slowly and surely, gripping the matchlock. His movements were so deliberate it was agonizing to watch, but he dared not make the slightest sound. Any noise might alert the tiger.

One shot. If he fired well, just one would be enough—just as it had been when he killed the black tiger’s mother. But the conditions had to be right.

He needed a vital spot exposed—somewhere like the head or the eyes—where a single shot could kill instantly.

But unfortunately, the black tiger was sitting with its back to him. Shooting into that thick haunch, even multiple times, would do no good. It would only enrage the beast, sending it into a frenzy. If it truly wanted to, the tiger could leap up and climb a tree in a single bound—there was nothing it couldn’t do.

Yeon moved with a slowness that would make a turtle seem quick, yet his motions were clean and without waste as he loaded the powder into the matchlock. As if the heavens themselves had taken his side, even the wind that had been whipping through the forest suddenly fell still.

He took one deep breath in, then slowly let it out, and raised the muzzle toward the black tiger.

If only he had a beater with him—someone to make noise and turn the tiger’s head, or drive it toward a trap. But Yeon was alone. The muzzle followed the tiger again and again, but he did not fire. One wrong shot would mean certain death. He had to be absolutely sure.

If the matchlock’s thunder shook the skies, how would the black tiger react? Would it charge at him? Flee in terror?

Surely, the black tiger knew about guns. Even if it had been just a cub, it must remember that a single shot had killed its mother. And now, Yeon had crept up behind it.

If Yeon had not been careless in his tiger hunting before, the black tiger would have bolted in the opposite direction at the sound of the gunshot. Had it faced Yeon or noticed him, it would have lunged at him, intent on strangling him. But instead, the black tiger was leisurely playing with crows.

The sight of a tiger playing with crows was bizarre, yet Yeon had no time to entertain such unnecessary thoughts.

Not far from where Yeon stood, there was a hastily made trap, unfinished. It hadn’t been concealed with dirt or branches, but it was still a likely place for a wild animal fleeing in panic to stumble into.

The “if” scenarios. And the if scenarios within those scenarios.

Yeon was usually a calm, methodical hunter, but today, he had to be reckless, like a madman with his hair let loose. The kind of reckless actions that would make a mountain hunter shake his head in disbelief—but it was a matter of life or death. Yeon’s impatient heart burned like a spark. After loading his matchlock, he set his sharp eyes on the black tiger.

Bang—

The quiet mountain was shaken by the gunshot. All the birds in the area startled and flew up. The sound was so loud that even the trees seemed to murmur in surprise.

As Yeon had expected, the black tiger shot forward like a bullet from the gun, startled by the loud noise. Yeon immediately gave chase.

Even though reloading while standing still would have made his hands fumble, Yeon ran through the forest like a mountain deer, reloading his matchlock as he went. There wasn’t even time to clear the gunpowder residue. He had to reload as quickly as possible to push the tiger in the direction he wanted.

While running down the mountain slope, he didn’t manage to load the powder fully. Half of it spilled out. Reluctantly, Yeon had to tear open another pouch of precious powder. But even as he did that, he never lost sight of the black tiger’s current direction. When the black tiger’s path veered from the position he had planned to corner it, Yeon, caught in the heat of the moment, let out a wild shout.

“AAAHHH!”

If he had a beater with him, the sound of drums and gongs would have echoed, but with no one else, it was up to his own voice. As soon as the reloading was done, Yeon didn’t even aim before firing.

Bang!

Once again, a thunderous sound rang out, and the black tiger twisted its head in the opposite direction of the gunshot.

Run, run faster. Run without knowing what lies beneath your feet, and stumble into the deep pit!

Yeon’s feet and hands moved faster, driven by his mounting excitement. Just as he was about to reload again, he briefly felt as though the black tiger’s eyes had locked with his, and he looked up. It almost seemed like the tiger turned its head in the direction he wanted and glanced back at him.

“That’s impossible.”

Yeon shook his head, urging himself to pick up the pace. He wasn’t like the mountain deer that lightly leapt over obstacles; he was running up the mountain like a wild colt with fire on its tail. This was the fastest and longest he had ever run in his life. The situation was so chaotic that he couldn’t even tell where he was heading or if he was pushing the tiger into the direction he intended.

Even while running, his hands kept moving instinctively, not because he was thinking, but because it had become second nature to him after years of practice. His mind went blank, leaving only the primal instincts of a beast.

As Yeon ran desperately behind the swaying hind of the black tiger, something suddenly struck him as odd.

“Was the corner this far?”

Only then did Yeon realize that he had been chasing the black tiger for too long and too far. Just as he thought that, he spun his head and saw, through the brush, a pair of bright yellow eyes staring back at him. It was the tiger’s head, grinning as if it had just realized that Yeon had caught up.

The amber eyes glistened and gleamed like pumpkins, and Yeon knew that look. It was the look of a predator hunting its prey. Like a game of tag, the roles had reversed, and now it was his turn to run.

The moment Yeon locked eyes with the black tiger, he reflexively turned and ran. His breath was already ragged, but he didn’t care.

Running from a tiger? Who in their right mind would do that?

People called it the tiger plague, but to be mauled by a tiger was nothing short of a disaster. There was no way for humans to avoid or prevent it.

And yet, Yeon ran without thinking of what was ahead or behind. The black tiger, as if giving Yeon enough time, leapt leisurely over a rock.

Ironically, the act of fleeing felt strangely familiar. Had he experienced this before? It almost felt too familiar, so much so that it lacked any sense of reality.

While fleeing, Yeon turned his head to check if the black tiger was behind him. To his surprise, there was more distance between them than he had expected.

Just when he thought the tiger had slowed down enough to give him a chance, Yeon suddenly felt the ground beneath his feet give way, and he plummeted into a deep hole.