[10/31 11:59 PM // YONGMA LAND // PARK ENTRANCE]

The gates of Yongma Land groan when they swing shut. Rust flakes scatter. The smell is damp metal, rain-soaked wood with something sour beneath.

Miho walks a step ahead, cap pulled low, tracksuit glinting under the weak lamps. She lets out a short laugh, thin and out of place in the dead park.

“Ugh, the crew’s not here yet?” She pulls out her phone, thumb tapping the screen. “Huh. No bars.”

She tilts the phone toward you with a smirk. “Figures. Halloween, creepy park, and now no bars. Classic.” She shrugs, slipping the phone back into her pocket. “Guess we’ll have to find them the old-fashioned way.”

The rides loom black against the sky. A carousel horse frozen mid-rear, paint peeling down its flank. A Ferris wheel cage creaks in the wind. The place is dead quiet, like it’s holding its breath.

“C'mon, rookie! Let’s look around, they can’t be far.”

[11/01 12:49 AM // YONGMA LAND // CAROUSEL]

The two of you have been walking for a while now. Empty stalls, dead lights, no sign of the crew. The only sounds are your shoes on cracked pavement and the steady creak of old metal in the wind.

Miho walks a step ahead, sneakers scuffing, cap brim low. She points toward a ride half-lost in the dark—a tilted carousel, horses frozen in chipped paint.

“Let’s check that one,” she says, her voice easy, almost sing-song. She glances back at you, grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. Like we’re on a field trip.”

She falls in closer to your side, hands deep in her jacket pockets. “Sooo,” she says, tilting her head. Her tone is light, teasing. “What about you, rookie? New guy at the agency, right? What’s your story?”

[11/01 01:39 AM // YONGMA LAND // PLAYGROUND]

The midway is quiet except for the wind rattling loose metal. You pass a row of shuttered food stalls, wrappers and cans scattered across the pavement. Miho stops in front of a pirate ship–themed playground, its wooden frame sagging under the moonlight, sails tattered and lanterns hanging dead.

She slips off her cap and turns to you with a grin. “Since the crew’s MIA, let’s make do,” she says. She leans back against the railing in front of the ship, finding her angle.

“Take one for me, rookie.” she adds, voice playful. She tilts her head, strikes a pose, jacket falling open just enough to look deliberate.

[11/01 02:09 AM // YONGMA LAND // HAUNTED HOUSE]

The haunted house looms at the end of the path, its windows boarded, roofline jagged against the moon. The front steps sag under weeds and broken wood. As you pass, something inside shifts with a heavy thud.

Miho startles hard, her breath catching. A bead of sweat shines at her temple. She clings to your arm, eyes wide, mouth parted in a gasp. Her jacket is tied at her waist, leaving only the cropped top against the night air.

She looks back at the dark facade, then at you. “D-Did you hear that?” Her voice is thin, nervous, but she forces a small smile. She swallows, still holding onto your arm. “It could be the others... Maybe we should check it out?”

[11/01 02:39 AM // YONGMA LAND // HAUNTED HOUSE]

You step out into the open air again. The haunted house sits behind you, wood groaning in the wind. Miho lets out a long breath and drops onto a bench nearby. She unties her jacket, folds it across her lap.

She gives a small laugh, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hang on you like that. Guess I’m not as brave as I look.” She looks down, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

For a while she sits quiet, then her voice drops. “It’s harder than people think. Being watched all the time. Smiling even when you don’t feel like it. One mistake and it’s everywhere online.” She shakes her head, a faint smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“It’s… exhausting,” she says, softer now. “But I love the music, the stage. That’s what keeps me going.” She looks up at you, warm, grateful. “Thanks for being here tonight. Makes it easier somehow.”

[11/01 02:59 AM // YONGMA LAND // FOOD STALLS]

The food stalls stand in a crooked line, shutters hanging loose, old posters peeling to scraps. Trash is scattered in the dirt, cans kicked flat years ago. That’s when you hear it—low growls, claws skittering over the concrete.

A pack of dogs slips out from behind the stalls. Ribs show through patchy fur, eyes catching the dim light. They fan out, heads low, teeth flashing as they close the gap.

Miho stiffens, her hand brushing your sleeve. For a moment it looks like the animals might lunge. Then the lead dog stops short, nose twitching. One by one the rest follow, ears pinned, growls thinning into uneasy whines. Without warning, they back away, tails low, vanishing into the dark.

Miho lets out a shaky laugh, shoulders dropping. “Guess even the strays don’t like me,” she says, forcing a grin. “Good thing—I really didn’t want to audition for dog food tonight.”

[11/01 03:29 AM // YONGMA LAND // PARK'S EDGE]

The rides are far behind now. Only the weeds and broken fence line mark this end of the park. It’s quiet—no wind, no voices, not even the call of stray dogs.

Miho’s hand is warm in yours. She leads you off the path, past a toppled sign, to a spot where the shadows of tall trees swallow the broken concrete. She stops, turns, her face soft in the low light.

“Sorry about the crew. I really didn’t mean to drag you out here in the middle of the night for nothing.”

She squeezes your hand, eyes shining. “But I’m glad you stayed with me. So... I want to do something special for you.”

She sinks to her knees, reaching up to undo your pants, looking up at you with a playful smile.

[01/11 03:49 AM // YONGMA LAND // PARK'S EDGE]

The concrete digs into your back as Miho rides you, her silver hair catching what little moonlight filters through the skeletal remains of roller coaster tracks overhead. Her hips roll in that practiced idol rhythm—the same one from her music videos, but here it's raw, desperate, real.

"Fuck, you feel so good~♡," she gasps, head thrown back, her pale breasts bouncing with each movement. "Been wanting this all night, oppa…"

Her inner muscles clench around you, drawing you deeper. The abandoned park stretches dark and silent around you both—no witnesses, no cameras, just rust and shadows and the wet sounds of your coupling.

Then something shifts.

The air grows thick, electric. Miho's black eyes flash gold in the darkness. Her perfect idol smile stretches wider, revealing gleaming fangs.

"Mmm, almost there," she purrs, but it's not quite human anymore—there's something ancient in that voice, hungry and patient. "You're going to taste so sweet…"

Nine white tails unfurl behind her like a blooming flower, each one swaying hypnotically in the night air. Fox ears push through her silver hair. Her fingernails lengthen into claws that prick your chest, not quite breaking skin. Not yet.

She doesn't stop riding you. If anything, she moves faster, her transformed body undulating with inhuman grace. Her golden eyes lock onto yours, pupils dilated with pleasure and predatory anticipation.

"Don't look so shocked," she laughs, a sound like wind chimes and breaking glass. "Did you really think Korea's perfect idol would fuck some nobody assistant in an abandoned park? Tsk, you humans are all the same…"

Her tails fan out wider, creating a canopy of white fur above you both. The temperature drops. Your breath mists in the suddenly frigid air, but her skin burns hot where it touches yours.

[11/01 04:09 AM // YONGMA LAND // PARK'S EDGE]

Everything changes in an instant.

As Miho leans down to kiss you, something glowing and pearl-white passes from her mouth—but instead of draining into you, it somehow slips backward. You taste something like starlight and copper pennies as the bead slides down your throat.

Miho's golden eyes go wide. She jerks back, hands flying to her throat.

"No, no, no—" Her voice cracks, no longer that hypnotic purr. She scrambles off you, falling to her knees on the cracked concrete. Her nine tails droop like wilted flowers. "You... you swallowed it! My pearl! How did you—"

She's shaking now, those perfect idol features contorting with genuine panic. Tears streak down her cheeks, real ones, not the practiced crying from her ballads. Her fox ears flatten against her skull.

"Please," she whimpers, crawling toward you naked on all fours. Her claws scrape against the ground. "I need it back. I can't... I can't change without it. I'm stuck like this."

The mighty gumiho reduced to this—silver hair tangled, mascara running. She looks up at you with those golden eyes, no longer predatory but desperate.

"I'll do anything," she breathes, inching closer. Her hand reaches for your thigh, trembling. "I-I'll be good, I promise. I'll suck your cock, oppa. I'll be your pet fox. Whatever you want. Just please..."

Her tails twitch anxiously behind her. The park seems even darker now, the shadows pressing in. A distant metal groan echoes from one of the dead rides.

"I've lived for centuries," she continues, voice small and broken. "I can't die here. Not like this. Not in this shithole park with rust and pigeon poop and—" She hiccups, a surprisingly human sound. "I'll make it worth your while. I know things. I can teach you. I can make you rich, famous. Just give it back..."

She presses her forehead to the ground in front of you, a full Korean bow of submission.