The city of Noryangjin buzzed with life, neon lights casting long shadows on the cracked pavement as night descended. The air smelled faintly of rain, the remnants of an evening shower lingering in the streets. At the heart of the city stood an old library, its dark oak doors creaking in the breeze, as though the building itself was a living relic.

Inside, the shelves were stacked high with forgotten stories, their pages yellowing with age. The library was a quiet sanctuary, except for one strange inhabitant.

Seo Yena sat at the farthest desk, her fox-like eyes scanning the pages of an ancient book, her fingers tracing the lines with a delicate touch. Her long black hair fell in soft waves around her face, and her skin was impossibly flawless—yet there was something otherworldly about her. Something timeless.

She had lived in this city for over a hundred years, hiding her true nature beneath the guise of a librarian. A gumiho. A nine-tailed fox, capable of weaving illusions and manipulating the energy of those who crossed her path. But Yena had long ago grown weary of such powers. She no longer wanted to steal the vitality of men to survive.

Her wish was simple—she wanted to become human. And to do that, she needed to find someone who could love her for who she was, not for the power she possessed.

It was not an easy task.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door to the library swung open with a loud bang. A young man, drenched from the rain, stumbled inside, his hands clutching his coat to his chest as if trying to shield himself from the cold. His eyes were clouded with exhaustion, and his body trembled.

"Excuse me," he muttered, his voice low and hoarse. "Do you have a place to rest?"

Yena glanced up from her book, her fox ears twitching as she assessed the man. There was something about him—something different. His energy was faint, almost as if he were disconnected from the world around him. She could see the faint remnants of spirits following him, clinging to his soul like shadows. He was haunted.

"Of course," Yena said, her voice smooth and calm, a stark contrast to the storm raging outside. She motioned toward a small corner of the library where an armchair sat by the window.

The man hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on her. There was an odd flicker in his eyes, something that seemed to pierce through her carefully constructed facade.

"Thank you," he said softly, and made his way toward the chair.

Yena returned to her book, but her attention was split. She couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, a magnetic pull she couldn’t explain. Perhaps it was the way his soul seemed to reach out to hers, silently begging for connection. Perhaps it was his aura of grief, so palpable it made her chest tighten with an unfamiliar ache.

As the man settled into the chair, his gaze flickered toward her once more. "What’s your name?"

Yena looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time. His gaze was intense, as though searching for something hidden in the depths of her being. She hesitated, instinctively retreating into her own thoughts. The question seemed innocent enough, but it was a dangerous one for someone like her.

"Yena," she answered finally, keeping her voice neutral.

He nodded. "I’m Ha Jun-ho."

She raised an eyebrow. "What brings you to this library, Jun-ho?"

Jun-ho shifted in the chair, his eyes darkening with a mixture of sadness and resolve. "I’m looking for answers," he said quietly. "I’ve been... hearing things. Voices. Whispers. And I don’t know how to make sense of them."

Yena’s interest piqued. "Voices?" she repeated. "What kind of voices?"

He hesitated before speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. "Spirits. I can hear them calling to me. At night, when I close my eyes, I see things. It’s like they want something from me. But I don’t know what."

Yena studied him closely. There was a deep, hidden pain in his words, something that went beyond the mere words themselves. The spirits weren’t just haunting him—they were tied to him in some way.

"I can help you," Yena offered, her voice soft. "But first, you need to tell me everything. Every detail."

Jun-ho’s eyes flashed with both relief and hesitation. He seemed to weigh her words for a long moment before speaking. "I don’t know if I’m ready," he murmured.

Yena felt a flicker of something within her—a connection, perhaps, or a strange sensation that her fate was intertwining with his. She couldn’t explain it. But she knew this was no ordinary man. He was more than he seemed.

Before she could say more, a loud crash echoed through the library, followed by a sharp, chilling wind that whipped through the room. Books flew off the shelves, and Yena instinctively rose to her feet, her senses alert.

Jun-ho’s eyes widened in fear. "What... What’s happening?"

Yena’s gaze narrowed. Something was wrong. The spirits that had followed him had turned restless, and the energy in the air felt thick, almost oppressive. She could sense it now—the presence of something dark, something ancient and vengeful.

Without warning, the door slammed open again, and a shadowy figure stepped into the room. Yena’s heart skipped a beat. The figure was tall, with a cloak that seemed to ripple like smoke.

"Yena," the figure spoke, its voice low and menacing. "You’ve been hiding too long."

Yena’s blood ran cold. She knew that voice.

It was the voice of her past—the voice of the one who had betrayed her centuries ago.

The wind howled through the cracked windows of the library, carrying with it the scent of rain and the promise of something dark. Yena's heart raced as she faced the shadowy figure in the doorway. Her body tensed, and for the first time in years, the centuries of calm she had worked so hard to cultivate shattered.

The figure stepped forward, its presence commanding the room. It was tall, draped in a cloak of shadow, and its face was hidden beneath a hood. But Yena knew who it was.

"Sung Hwan," she whispered under her breath. The name felt foreign on her tongue, yet it carried the weight of a thousand years of betrayal.

Sung Hwan had once been her lover, a fellow gumiho who had fallen to greed and ambition. Together, they had roamed the earth, gathering power and seeking immortality. But when Yena had sought to change, to redeem herself and embrace humanity, Sung Hwan had rejected her. In his rage, he had cast her aside, believing that a gumiho’s nature was unchangeable.

Now, standing before her, he was a shadow of the man she had once loved.

"You’ve hidden yourself away for far too long, Yena," Sung Hwan’s voice rasped, dripping with malice. "And you’ve taken a human under your wing. Do you think you can erase your past?"

Yena’s fox-like ears flicked back, her gaze hardening. "I’m not the same person I was, Hwan," she said, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her. "I’m not the one you knew. And you should leave now before I make you."

Jun-ho, still sitting in the armchair by the window, looked from Yena to the figure at the door. The air was thick with tension, the whispering spirits now more restless than ever. He could sense something dangerous in the room, but he had no idea what was truly happening.

"Who is he?" Jun-ho asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Yena turned to him, her eyes softening for a moment. "A ghost from my past," she answered, her words heavy. "A gumiho like me, but one who chose a darker path."

Sung Hwan laughed, the sound echoing unnervingly through the library. "A darker path, you say? I merely embraced my true nature, unlike you. Hiding in the shadows, pretending to be human. You think you can just erase what we are?"

Yena took a step forward, her stance unwavering. "I’m done with what we were, Hwan. I’m trying to move on. To become human."

Sung Hwan’s eyes flashed with amusement, and for a brief moment, he seemed to almost pity her. "You’re still chasing that dream?" he sneered. "There’s no escaping what you are. You’ll never be human. Not unless you kill the one you’ve chosen to love."

Jun-ho’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of love. He didn’t know what this man was talking about, but the weight of the words hung in the air like a noose around his neck. He glanced at Yena, her eyes full of emotion that she quickly masked.

"What do you mean?" Jun-ho asked, voice tight.

Yena clenched her fists at her sides, a mix of anger and fear flooding through her. "It’s the price of becoming human. I must sever all ties to the supernatural, including..." She hesitated, her gaze flicking to Jun-ho before settling back on Sung Hwan. "I must kill the one I love."

The words hung heavily in the air, each syllable slicing through the fragile connection Yena had built with Jun-ho. Her heart ached at the thought, but she knew the truth of it.

Sung Hwan’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. "You can’t have it both ways, Yena. If you want to be human, you must make the ultimate sacrifice. You can’t keep hiding behind these illusions."

Yena felt a surge of power rising within her, a sharp pain in her chest as the fox inside her stirred, awakened by the presence of her past. The temptation to give in, to revert to her old ways and cast away her human desires, was strong. But she knew, deep down, that if she did, she would lose everything she had worked for.

"Leave now, Hwan," Yena said, her voice low and dangerous. "Or I will make you leave."

Sung Hwan chuckled darkly, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He had underestimated Yena’s resolve. But he wasn’t done yet.

"You’ll regret this," he hissed. "I’ll be back. You can’t hide from your past forever."

With that, the shadows around him seemed to shift, and in a blink, he was gone—vanished into the night. The wind died down, and the eerie silence of the library returned, but Yena’s heart was far from calm.

She turned to Jun-ho, who was still sitting, looking utterly confused and shaken. He hadn’t moved, as if frozen by the raw power and tension in the room.

"Yena..." Jun-ho whispered, his voice small and unsure. "What just happened? Who was that man?"

Yena walked toward him, kneeling in front of the chair. She gently placed her hand on his, feeling the warmth of his skin against her cold fingers. For a moment, she let herself breathe, allowing the storm in her heart to settle.

"He was part of my past, Jun-ho. A part I’ve tried to leave behind," she said softly. "But now, it seems my past is determined to find me."

Jun-ho’s brow furrowed, but his eyes softened with sympathy. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he could feel the depth of her pain, the weight of the choice she was facing.

"So... what does this mean for us?" he asked quietly. "For me?"

Yena met his gaze, her eyes full of uncertainty. "I don’t know," she whispered. "But I promise you, I’ll protect you. No matter the cost."

The days that followed the return of Sung Hwan were filled with a palpable tension. Yena kept her distance from Jun-ho, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that their paths were now irrevocably linked. Every time her eyes met his, she was reminded of the choice she was facing—the impossible decision that loomed over her like a dark cloud.

Jun-ho, on the other hand, had been quiet. He kept his distance, too, sensing that Yena was troubled, but unsure of how to comfort her. He didn’t understand the supernatural world she had been thrust into, nor did he fully grasp the implications of what had happened the night Sung Hwan had shown up. But he could feel it—Yena was struggling. And no matter how hard she tried to keep her distance, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to her.

It was the following Saturday when it happened.

Yena was once again at the library, her usual spot by the far window bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun. She was lost in the pages of an old book, the words swirling in front of her as she contemplated the future. The sound of the doorbell ringing broke her thoughts, and she glanced up just in time to see Jun-ho walk through the door.

He was drenched from the rain, his hair matted to his forehead, but there was a determined look in his eyes. He didn’t even bother to take off his soaked coat as he strode toward her.

"Yena," he said, his voice firm but calm. "We need to talk."

Yena set the book down and stood up, sensing the seriousness in his tone. Her heart skipped a beat as he approached her, but she quickly masked her emotions.

"About what?" she asked, her voice steady, though she felt a strange unease twisting in her stomach.

Jun-ho’s gaze never left hers as he took a step closer. "About everything," he said, his eyes soft but full of intensity. "About what you are. About what happened with that man—the one who came here."

Yena’s pulse quickened, her body instinctively tensing. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again, unsure of how to explain. How could she explain to him that she was a gumiho? That she had spent centuries hiding her true nature, only to fall in love with a human? That the very love she sought to protect might be the one thing that could destroy him?

Jun-ho wasn’t finished. "I’ve been thinking about what you said that night. About the choice you have to make. But I don’t understand. Why do you have to choose between me and your humanity?"

Yena’s throat tightened. She had wanted to keep him safe from this—the burden of her curse. But it seemed like the more she tried to distance herself from him, the more he reached for her, his determination unwavering.

"I can’t explain everything," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "But being with you... it’s dangerous. You don’t know what you're getting into."

Jun-ho stepped forward, his expression filled with empathy. "I know I don’t understand everything. But what I do know is that I don’t want you to go through this alone. I don’t want you to make a choice based on fear. I don’t want you to hide anymore."

Yena’s heart wavered. Her mind screamed at her to push him away, to protect him from the darkness that threatened to consume them both. But there was a part of her—an undeniable part—that wanted to reach out, to let him in.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. "Jun-ho, it’s not just about you. It’s about me. About who I’ve become, and the price I have to pay for wanting to be human."

Jun-ho frowned, the confusion clear on his face. "What price?"

Yena bit her lip, her eyes clouded with uncertainty. She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "The price is... your life."

Jun-ho’s face paled at her words, and he took a step back, shock and fear flickering across his features. "What do you mean? What do you mean, my life?"

Yena closed her eyes, her chest tightening with the weight of the truth. "If I want to become human, I have to sever all ties to the supernatural. That means I have to kill the one I love. It’s the only way to rid myself of my curse."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Jun-ho stood frozen, his mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of her words. He had never imagined that the world Yena had brought him into was filled with such danger, such impossible choices.

"That’s not fair," Jun-ho finally said, his voice shaking with emotion. "You can’t just choose to kill someone to save yourself."

Yena’s eyes flicked to his, her expression pained. "I don’t want to. But it’s the only way. If I don’t, my powers will eventually consume me. And anyone I care about will be dragged into it. I don’t want that. I won’t let that happen to you."

Jun-ho took a step toward her, his voice low but firm. "Then we’ll find another way. There has to be another way."

Yena shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as the weight of her situation pressed down on her chest. "I’ve spent centuries searching for one. But there isn’t one, Jun-ho. This is the only way."

Jun-ho’s hand reached out, gently cupping her cheek. "I won’t let you do this alone," he said, his voice steady with resolve. "I don’t care what it takes. We’ll find a way out. Together."

Yena closed her eyes, the tears threatening to spill over as his warmth spread through her. For the first time in years, she felt like there might be hope. But deep inside, she knew that no matter what path they chose, there would be sacrifices—sacrifices neither of them were prepared to make.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them trembled, and a familiar voice echoed through the library.

"You really think you can escape your fate?"

Yena froze, her heart sinking. She knew that voice—too well.

From the shadows, Sung Hwan emerged, his figure standing tall and menacing, a dark smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"I warned you, Yena. You can’t outrun the past."

---

End of Episode 3