The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

What is the unchanging factor that distinguishes a person?

There are many possible answers, but at least it’s not the face. Appearance changes too easily. With just a mask, one becomes unrecognizable.

If this were modern Earth, one could rely on fingerprints, irises, or various DNA markers, but here, this is another world.

A world where magic has developed more than science. So, there’s a unique way to distinguish people in this world.

One is magic power. Another is the soul. And the third is vital energy.

Of course, at the moment of death, even these dissipate, but with a skilled necromancer, various things become possible.

They could ease one’s regrets or console their spirit.

However, even if a soul remains, resurrecting the dead is impossible—

Without vital energy, the most fundamental and essential component of life.

Yet vital energy dissipates faster than anything else, making resurrection impossible even for a high priest if they don’t act immediately.

In Karami’s case, his vital energy vanished in an instant as it inverted.

Normally, resurrection would be impossible.

But destiny—or rather, a fox’s trick—twists even the immutable fate of the dead.

“You, you still have his essence, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” Lin replied, timidly glancing around.

Falling for the Gumiho’s sweet talk, Lin had secretly siphoned off Karami’s essence, bit by bit, as casually as one might snack on something precious. This was the reason Karami had come to resent her and made her withdraw into herself.

She had converted other essences directly into power, but she made an exception for Karami’s.

It was a precious treasure she’d carefully stored away, like a squirrel hoarding acorns.

“Then we have his essence... Anything else needed?”

Since the Gumiho had already deployed her eclipse, the outcome was decided, and Heukbi adopted a more cooperative attitude.

“We need to call his soul back to his body... but if we perform the ritual carelessly, his soul could end up wandering the afterlife.”

Unless, like Mirabel’s father, Harold, he had a strong attachment to this world, the soul would depart for the afterlife.

Since Karami’s case was different, his soul had to be called precisely to his body.

There were obstacles.

The first was how to summon such a delicate soul.

The second was the myriad of yokai, irresistibly drawn to souls, that could snatch his spirit mid-summoning.

“That’s not a problem.”

“Excuse me?”

The Gumiho showed Heukbi a form, illustrating it with magic.

“Honestly, it’s a spell more persistent than any ordinary sorcery.”

The Gumiho chuckled.

A black shackle bound tightly to the soul, a fetter that remained even after death, as if to forbid freedom.

Chains linking Karami’s soul made it easy to pull him back.

But to summon his soul, the Gumiho needed to lift the barrier—and she had to prevent Heukbi from doing anything reckless in the meantime.

“Hand it over. The fox bead.”

“...”

The core of a fox’s power. An essential bead for magic.

A fox bead isn’t given even to a parent or a lover...

“Not going to hand it over? Should I pop out an eyeball?”

The Gumiho threatened her with a sly smirk, like a schoolyard bully intimidating a junior.

Reluctantly, Heukbi summoned her fox bead and placed it in the Gumiho’s hand, hesitating to release her grip. The Gumiho tried to take it, but Heukbi held tight.

Just as it looked like a struggle might ensue, Lin pushed Heukbi aside, causing her to fall limply and lose her grip on the bead.

“Trying to buy time, are you?”

Heukbi glanced up, her face twisted in a sorrowful look as if she were a tragic heroine, only to be met with the cold, piercing gazes of the two Gumiho.

A total of sixteen tails. Why were there so many Gumiho?

She thought it might be time to raise a tame fox of her own after all of this.

With Heukbi’s powers contained, the Gumiho lifted the barrier. Lin, having entrusted the resurrection entirely to the Gumiho, stepped back inside.

“All set. Shall we begin?”

First, Karami’s soul. The Gumiho tugged at the chain with her power.

A small soul, moving along a queue in the afterlife, was suddenly pulled out.

As the three-headed hound of the underworld, Cerberus, lunged to pursue the escaping soul—

“Where do you think you’re going?”

In an instant, the Gumiho’s magical power expanded.

A massive pink Gumiho, many times larger than the enormous Cerberus, materialized, baring its nine tails with a fierce growl. Cerberus whimpered like a scolded pup.

Overwhelmed by the Gumiho’s terrifying power, no yokai dared to touch the soul.

The tiny black soul, escorted by this majestic presence, appeared before the Gumiho.

“Hello? You’ve gotten quite small, haven’t you?”

A barely tangible soul, frail enough to disappear with a single breath. As insignificant as a passing horned rabbit.

A testament to Karami’s fragility. And yet, he never hesitated to venture into dangerous places. All for his servant’s sake.

The Gumiho knew this from Lin’s memories.

Not just for Lin, but for himself as well.

This time, too.

He’d come despite her warning not to, arriving at the perfect moment.

What if he hadn’t come?

What if he’d been there in the past?

She didn’t know.

In the depths of her heart, a warm feeling swelled. Whose emotion was this?

Her own? Lin’s?

The Gumiho couldn’t tell. She’d never felt this way, even in her eternal life.

Whatever it was, she could ask Karami after reviving him.

The Gumiho retrieved the essence she’d kept within her body, returning it to its rightful place. Although Lin had nibbled away at it bit by bit, there was enough left to bring him back to life.

Carefully, she placed his soul back into his body as well.

All the groundwork was done. The final step remained.

“Amho.”

Heukbi captured Karami’s corpse in the Silver Eye.

Reversing the fate of the dead was a forbidden domain. Ordinarily, it wouldn’t have been possible.

Retracing from death to his original life was nearly impossible.

But here, his soul, his body, his essence, and a bond unbroken by death still existed.

From among billions of threads, the life of Karami shone, erasing all other paths, leaving a single line.

One end to the other. A clear point of symmetry.

The conditions for reversal were met. Heukbi inverted death.

There was no blinding light or grand spectacle.

Just a gentle quiet, like sunlight breaking through dark clouds. In the empty gaze of Karami, a faint glimmer emerged.

Slowly, Karami blinked as if waking from a deep slumber, his eyes beginning to focus.

The first thing he saw upon his return from the afterlife was the smiling Gumiho gazing down at him.

“Hello, Master. Did you sleep well?”

“Well... so-so.”

“How does it feel to take a free soul-bound journey?”

“I was just about to reach heaven; a little disappointing, really.”

Was this the reaction of someone who had just come back from the dead? The Gumiho laughed dryly at his shameless response.

“Heaven? No, you’re destined for hell. After all, you raised a Gumiho.”

“Hell just for raising a Gumiho seems a bit unfair, doesn’t it?”

“The world’s inherently unfair. What, do you regret it?”

“If I raised the world’s prettiest Gumiho, then hell seems like a fair price.”

“Choosing such sweet answers, you make me want to devour you whole.”

Now she understood why Lin had been nibbling at his essence.

This man was a trickster. A greater schemer than even a Gumiho, one who tugged on the heart.

If he got eaten by a woman, it would be his own fault. A fate of his own making.

As Karami exchanged lighthearted banter with the Gumiho, he noticed Heukbi.

Heukbi looked away, shuffling awkwardly, clearly shaken. It meant the Gumiho had won.

“Looks like things went well.”

“Yes, thanks to a certain someone who didn’t shy away from facing death.”

“For a servant, that’s nothing.”

A lie.

In truth, Karami hadn’t anticipated dying. He’d only planned to provoke Heukbi enough to send the Sky Fox’s bead inside.

‘Who would’ve expected a sudden death sentence like that?’

Even if Heukbi had used force, he’d thought he’d only take a few hits at worst, not get split in half.

His last words, if he remembered right, were something like, “Wait, what?”

Since he’d died before realizing it, it didn’t even feel like he’d died. It was more like he’d fallen asleep and woken up.

Karami had learned an important lesson:

‘Death is final.’

He’d wondered if, by getting sent to another world, death might act as a logout link back to reality, but that was wishful thinking. Death was an end.

From now on, he’d be more cautious.

Karami struggled to lift himself from the ground, but the Gumiho supported him, helping him stand.

“Don’t push yourself. You’re still low on essence.”

Her attitude was surprisingly gentle. Her gaze soft and reminiscent of a lost lover, tinged with bittersweetness.

‘What’s with her?’

The sudden shift in demeanor.

Well, it was better than being glared at. If she wanted to look at him kindly, he’d welcome it, as long as she didn’t mean to devour him.

For now, wrapping things up took priority.

“If it’s over, shouldn’t we settle up?”

The Gumiho’s aim was to retrieve her power over the Moon Eye, along with Heukbi’s own powers.

Retrieving the Gumiho’s strength required a vast amount of power, but absorbing energy from a yokai as strong as Heukbi would make it happen instantly.

With Heukbi’s fox bead already in her hand, there was no hesitation.

The last step toward her aspiration.

The Gumiho shattered the black fox bead.

Crack!

As the bead broke, Heukbi’s power and the power of the Moon Eye burst forth, absorbed entirely by the Gumiho.

The Gumiho’s own bead, half golden, now gleamed with a deep twilight blue.

The sky, the sun, the moon, and even darkness. The three yokai’s powers finally converged.

Flash!

A brilliant glow erupted from the Gumiho. A pink pillar shot up to the heavens. From her tail, a vibrant pink tail stretched out.

Her tails swayed elegantly.

At last, the ninth tail of the Gumiho had appeared.