By Ji-eun
Today I completed three months as a barista.
Three months since I took over the counter, learned the new machine, memorized the orders of regular customers, and discovered that the secret to the perfect honey bread is baking it over low heat for exactly 37 minutes.
But I also completed three months as a hunter.
Three months since I saw my first dark aura.
Since I threw my first tea as a weapon.
Since I almost died at the hands of a spirit that only wanted revenge.
And today…
I will finish what I started.
It all began with a worker.
He entered the café yesterday, covered in cement, with a cracked helmet.
He ordered an Americano.
But his eyes…
were cold.
Min-jae warned me as soon as he left:
— "Residual spiritual energy. High. Someone is using him as bait."
Hae-jun confirmed:
— "It's him. The same gwisin who almost killed you. He's marking you."
Suah only said:
— "Then let's end this."
But I shook my head.
— "No. I'll go alone. This fight… is mine."
—
I found him at the construction site where it all began.
The same place where I was humiliated.
Where I fell to my knees.
Where I knew I wasn't strong enough.
He was there.
The Elder Gwisin.
Standing in the center of the construction site, his hands crossed.
— "You've returned," he said, his voice echoing like a distant chorus.
"Even after seeing the King.
Even after feeling the weight of the portal.
You still come."
— "Because this café… is mine," I say, putting my backpack on the ground.
"And no one will use innocent workers as bait to provoke me."
— "You are brave.
But courage doesn't kill an Elder."
— "Maybe not."
I open my backpack.
I take out the silver kettle.
But I don't make regular tea.
I make it with herbs from my grandmother's diary—a secret mixture:
Brine + willow leaf + ashes of paper burned with my blood.
The tea glows blue and gold.
— "Do you know what this is?" I ask.
— "Purifying tea. I've seen it. Useless against me."
— "This one isn't just for spirits."
I take a sip.
My body warms.
My hands glow.
"This one is made with my choice.
With the sacrifice I made for Yuna.
And with the certainty that I belong here."
—
The fight begins.
He attacks first.
A wave of cold cracks the ground.
I dodge.
I throw a bottle of tea—he dismisses it with a gesture.
—"You're still weak!"
I leap back.
I grab a new bottle—red bell infusion with the essence of a defeated Changgwi.
I throw it to the ground.
It explodes in red light, shattering his shadow.
He screams.
He recoils.
—"You're using essences?" he growls.
"How?"
—"I learned that every defeated monster leaves something behind. Not just fear.
But power.
And I don't run from it."
I attack.
Not with force.
With precision.
Purifying Touch on the wrist. Tea at the base of the neck.
A combination of movements I learned watching Suah.
He recoils.
But laughs.
—"You've grown.
But the King will break you."
— "Then tell him…"
I say, leaping with a spinning kick, striking his chest with the purifying touch.
"…that I'm waiting."
—
The final exchange.
He transforms.
His body becomes liquid shadow.
He advances like a black tide.
I don't run.
I close my eyes.
I think of the café.
The customers' laughter.
Min-jae's voice on the intercom.
The warm bread.
The smell of cinnamon.
And when he's inches away…
I open my eyes.
— "You're not an Elder," I say.
"You're just a messenger.
A servant.
And I… am the Guardian of the Gate."
I throw the last vial.
Not of tea.
Of ashes from the diary I burned yesterday—with a protective seal engraved on it.
The liquid explodes in white light.
The gwisin screams.
Its form dissolves.
And at the last second, he whispers:
— "The King… will tear your world apart…"
And then…
he disappears.
Into dust.
Into silence.
—
But I'm not alone.
At the top of the tallest building, a figure stands.
With a straw hat.
Black staff.
Eyes that burn like embers.
He doesn't move.
But I feel his rage.
Like distant thunder.
And then…
A voice echoes in the wind.
Not in my ear.
In my mind.
"Ji-eun."
My name.
Spoken like a sentence.
"You dared."
"I am Dokkaebi Geomneung."
"The King of Evil Spirits."
"And this war… has barely begun."
And with that, he disappears.
—
I return to the café.
It's closed.
But I turn on the light.
I wash the kettle.
I clean the counter.
I put a new batch of bread in the oven.
The others arrive one by one.
— "Did you defeat him?" Min-jae asks.
— "Yes," I say.
"But it wasn't a victory. It was a warning."
— "What warning?"
— "That we are here.
That the café is open.
And that, if he comes…
we will be ready."
—
At night, I write in my notebook:
"Today, I wasn't just a barista.
I wasn't just a hunter.
I was the guardian."
"And the café… is my home."
I closed the first cycle.
But when I look out the window…
I see something new.
In the corner chair, where the dokkaebi always sat…
Now there's a black iron rod, leaning against the table.
And beside it, a note:
"Next round, guardian.
And this time…
I'm going to play."
—
The café is still open.
The oven is still hot.
And the world…
still has much to teach me.