About Two Years and Nine Months Later
The wind was gentle that day, carrying with it the scent of late summer grass and distant pine. As Gami and her family stepped into Bumgok Land, they found the village still murmuring with the memory of what had transpired years ago. Whispers passed from home to home. Children ran through the fields, shouting and laughing as they played tiger hunt—but it wasn't like the game Gami remembered.
These children weren't pretending to slay beasts.
They were pretending to be the three tiger brothers—prowling through the plains, hunting down a wicked governor, shouting justice in every pounce. It was Bumgok's own way of remembering.
Reverence, Gami thought, lingers deeper than stone.
Under the sprawling shade of the zelkova tree in the village square, Gami and her family sat among villagers escaping the afternoon heat. She asked casually about the story—about the three tigers said to have punished an evil man. At once, the square stirred with excitement. Everyone had their version, their angle, their retelling of that day. Some voices rose with dramatic flourish. Others embellished wildly.
Gami's smile began to fade.
But then, from the edge of the crowd, a young man who had been silently watching her family—Zeali, Sui, and Dui—stood. His gaze lingered on little Dui, then shifted to Gami. He stepped forward, and bowed deeply.
"My name is Dowoogi,"
he said, his voice trembling with something like awe.
"You truly are… his family. The one who saved us all. I saw it—every moment."
He cast a glance toward the loudest storytellers and lowered his voice.
"Don't mind their nonsense. Please… come to my home. Let me show you what really happened."
Gami exchanged a brief glance with her family, then nodded. Dowoogi led them to a modest house at the edge of the village. The floor creaked beneath his hurried steps as he laid out a small table of warm rice, wild greens, pickled roots, and a jug of rice wine. The food was humble, but the sincerity in its offering filled the room with a quiet light.
Once they were seated, he began his tale.
He didn't exaggerate. He didn't perform. He told the story with a kind of reverence, his voice rising and falling like a prayer. As he spoke of Goi—of the battles, the tigers, the bronze sword—the room seemed to fade until only the words remained.
"What struck me most," Dowoogi said, his eyes glimmering, "wasn't just his strength. It was his mercy. He didn't kill the tigers outright. He… listened. As though he could understand their hearts."
He paused.
"I don't know what Master Goi is. A man? Something more? But what he did that day… it was beyond us."
Gami smiled faintly. "He has always been… extraordinary."
Then her gaze sharpened.
"But what made you believe the governor truly confessed?"
Without hesitation, Dowoogi answered,
"Because Master Goi is a Harmonizer, of course. Haven't you heard? He has already reached the realm of the immortals."
At the word 'immortal,' Sui glanced nervously at Gami, worried she might be pained by the thought. He quickly tried to redirect the moment.
"Easy there, friend. You're getting carried away," he said.
"Gami my sister-in-law, what he's really saying is: Goi drew his bronze gladius, for you friend—golden sword, subdued the governor, and made him confess his sins—to the three dying tigers. Right?"
Dowoogi clapped his hands.
"Exactly!"
His voice lowered as the story darkened.
"It began when the governor lost his way in the hills of Bumgok. That's when he met her—a woman of incredible beauty and kindness. She loved him. And in time, she revealed the truth. She wasn't human. She was a tiger."
No one spoke.
"But instead of rejecting her, he swore his love. He knelt before her mother—the mountain spirit herself—and begged for her blessing to marry. She granted it. And so he brought the tiger woman here, to Bumgok Land."
He swallowed.
"But it was all a lie. He lured her into the square, into a crowd. And there, he stabbed her in the back with a dagger. She couldn't maintain her disguise. Her spirit faltered, and as she transformed before them, he struck again and again until she lay dead at his feet."
Gami's hands, resting on her lap, curled into quiet fists.
"They named him governor,"
Dowoogi said bitterly.
"Rewarded him for murder. Showered him with wealth. With power."
"We couldn't let such a man end in peace,"
Gami said softly, in a voice that trembled with fury.
Dowoogi nodded. "No. Goi didn't. Before the tiger brothers breathed their last, he made that governor kneel. Made him beg. And then… he led him up the mountain."
A hush.
"They say he went to meet her mother. The spirit. To answer for everything. To beg, maybe. To repent. But since that day, no one has seen him—or the governor."
"What a cold-hearted man,"
Dui whispered.
Gami shook her head. "Cold?" She touched his hand gently.
"No, my little Dui. He had no heart at all."
Sui scoffed.
"To use a woman—even a beast—as a ladder to power… despicable."
Then Dui turned, suddenly serious.
"Gami… did Goi marry you just so he could leave me and Sui in your care?"
Zeali nearly choked on his drink.
Gami reached over and brushed Dui's hair.
"Oh, sweet Dui. Has that weighed on you all this time?"
Dui nodded.
"I was only four when he left. I don't really know him. Please… what kind of man is he?"
Gami's gaze softened.
"I asked him to marry me first," she said. "But he said our paths were too different."
Sui grinned.
"And the next day, she took us away to her house while he was out. When he returned, she said, 'Marry me—or you'll never see your younger brothers again.'"
Gami chuckled.
"And he just sighed, rubbed his temples, and muttered, 'What a strange way to propose.'"
Laughter filled the small room, gentle and real. For a moment, the heaviness of the past gave way to something warmer.
That night, they remained in Bumgok Land.
After making sure his brother Sui had fallen asleep under the covers, little Dui laid down beside him. Eyes fixed on the ceiling, he whispered into the dark:
"I hope… that some day… a beautiful woman will love me first. Just like she did with Goi."
Outside, the wind stirred gently in the trees.