Chapter 6: Gumiho who decided to become a GOD

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‘I thought I’d die of embarrassment.’

For a Gumiho, enchanting people is as natural as eating, but that’s just theory. Actually doing it made me so embarrassed I felt my face would explode.

In the other world, I couldn’t bring myself to enchant people, so I hunted and ate monsters instead. But here, with no monsters, this was my only option.

I did it reluctantly, like eating mustard while crying, but the shame was unreal!

I fled the busking street, running non-stop until I got home and shut the door, only then calming down a bit.

“Why stop at that? You’re still far from recharging your energy.”

As I tried to compose myself, Blackie appeared as a dark will-o’-wisp in the corner of my vision, asking.

“If I took any more, people could really get hurt.”

The amount of vitality I took wasn’t small by human standards—I already feel bad enough.

‘It’s definitely not enough, though.’

I said before, I’m a Gumiho with enough spiritual power to save a thousand dying people.

That also means I need the vitality of about a thousand healthy people to fully recharge.

Right now, my energy is maybe 10 out of 1000.

The three people’s worth I took is barely enough to scrape by.

In a pinch, I could tap into the energy stored in my tails, but that’d lower my Gumiho rank.

It’s like breaking down muscle for energy in biological terms.

It’s easy to break down, but takes several times the effort to rebuild.

Even in a world without monsters, I don’t want to weaken myself.

The more money, the more power, the better—almost always.

‘Looks like I have no choice but to do that.’

I planned to settle into Earth and figure things out slowly, but this unexpected energy drain means I need to start ASAP.

With the vitality of ten healthy men, I’m not weak by Earth standards, but it’s not enough to handle any crisis, so I need to build up more.

To absorb the vitality of 300 people without hurting anyone, I’d need to take far less per person than at the busking. Rough math says I’d need about 30,000 people.

Street performances won’t cut it.

You probably know where I’m going with this.

I’m going to become an idol!

“Ugh… ugh…”

“Are you sick?”

Imagining dancing provocatively on a stage with thousands watching made my face burn red.

Blackie, clueless, asked. How could a former demon lord understand human feelings?

But I can’t run from this. If not an idol, how else will I survive?

Think positive. Earth has, what, 6 billion people?

The other world, called Cheonyang, was like a medieval mix of Korea, China, and Japan.

You get it from the Blue Dragon and Gumiho, right? A world so similar to Earth’s myths makes me wonder if legends here came from dimension travelers like me.

Cheonyang had a tiny population, with villages far apart and even cities shockingly sparse.

Seoul’s population density is just insane by comparison.

With so many people here, there’s so much vitality to draw from.

If I become globally famous, my Gumiho rank might rise another level.

For someone who almost became a god, the next step is, well, godhood.

“Hm.”

Not a bad idea?

The immense power I felt with the Yeouiju—if I could reach that level again, the idea of becoming an idol felt a bit more appealing despite the embarrassment.

Idol, icon.

The word comes from religious worship.

Saying I’ll become an idol is like saying I’ll aim to be a god.

After rationalizing, the shame lessened a bit.

If I’m aiming to be an idol, why not aim to become a Cheonho, a fox god?

But I need to debut fast.

As I said, my energy is down to about ten people’s worth, barely enough to keep me going.

I don’t want to keep stealing vitality and joy from passersby with street performances.

Lost in these thoughts, I grabbed Soye when she got home from school and asked,
“Soye, how do I become an idol?”

Why ask so bluntly?

It’s common sense that a middle school girl would know about idols, right?

“Unnie, oppa, you want to be an idol?”

Soye seemed torn between calling me sister or brother.

“A sexy concept idol might be a bit much, no?”

After the street performance, I’d returned home and shifted to my black-haired girl form.

This form uses less energy.

Roaming the house as a fox would be weird.

Since Soye’s only seen my fox and girl forms, it’s no surprise she thinks I’m far from sexy.

‘Wait, why does she assume a sexy concept?’

“Practicing those provocative idol dances doesn’t seem like the best idea. You’ve got tons of other strengths!”

She settled on calling me unnie. Being called oppa in this form would feel odd, so I didn’t correct her.

‘Searching for provocative idol dances?’

Then it hit me—my search history might still be on Soye’s computer!

Eight years ago—15 in the other world—I always set browsers to auto-delete history, but being rusty with computers and flustered, I forgot to clear it in Soye’s room.

‘Aaaaaagh!’

I screamed internally.

My little sister caught me red-handed searching for sexy idol dances on her computer.

Isn’t this embarrassing enough to write in a will?

‘No, no shame! I’m aiming for a sexy concept idol! Research is normal!’

It’s not an excuse—it’s true. No shame at all! Be bold!

“I can look like this too.”

I showed Soye my third form.

Tall, explosively voluptuous, with pink hair that enchants.

‘How big is she?’

But Soye was slightly taller than me even in this form.

Is she really a second-year middle schooler?

“Are you the tallest among the girls?”

“Yeah.”

“Figures.”

Probably taller than half the boys too, since she’s still growing.

But my chest was bigger.

‘What am I thinking, comparing myself to my baby sister!’

The second and youngest child, born when the family was struggling but improving, ten years younger than me.

Before I went missing, she was a tiny, adorable kid. Seven and a half years wasn’t enough to change mountains, but it was enough to transform a person.

Soye’s looks were so striking, it’s hard to believe we’re siblings. She could be a model or idol herself.

‘Old me was just a scrawny nerd.’

A typical high school boy into games, comics, webtoons, and novels.

If I’d grown up as that guy and stood next to Soye as siblings, people would’ve said the genes all went to her, that life’s unfair.

She’s much younger, my precious sister I’d never tire of.

Though she feels more like a daughter now.

It’s hard to just call her cute when she’s grown like this.

“You’re really pretty, unnie. You could be a huge idol!”

“You’re super pretty too, Soye.”

I heard compliments should be returned with compliments.

Soye took my praise calmly, probably used to hearing it.

Should I ask how many confessions she’s gotten?

If some random guy’s eyeing my sister, I’ll make sure they live a wholesome school life for a while without any trouble.

“But if you go for a sexy concept, won’t Dad foam at the mouth?”

“Father, foam at the mouth?”

Soye said something I couldn’t imagine.

In my memory, Father was always quiet and composed.

So much so that I once wrongly thought he wasn’t interested in me.

There seems to be a big gap between Soye’s “Dad” and my “Father.”

‘Does he feel different because she’s his little girl?’