The Young Scholar stepped closer to the tree.
He raised his hand.
"Right there."
The Young Scholar tried hard to point out the Black Monster's exact location.
"Do you see it?"
"A black blob."
"Tiny..."
The Young Scholar gestured with his hand.
"It's eating fruit."
"Do you see it?"
The Young Scholar repeated the question again and again.
A glimmer of hope showed in his eyes.
The woodcutter narrowed his eyes.
Then opened them wide.
Then narrowed them again.
He repeated the cycle, trying hard to find the Black Monster the Young Scholar was talking about.
"...No."
The woodcutter gave up.
He looked left and right, up and down, but all he saw were leaves and branches.
A few times, he thought he saw something.
His heart even gave a hard thump.
But it turned out to be a shadow or a trick of the eye.
"I don't see it."
The woodcutter made himself clearer.
The Young Scholar was very anxious and full of confusion.
"How can you not see it?"
"It's right there."
"Eating fruit."
"You don't see it?"
The woodcutter shook his head.
"No."
He could see the fruit.
But he couldn't make it out clearly.
It was too dark.
And they were in the mountains and woods.
Honestly, it was terribly hard on the eyes.
The Young Scholar didn't know what to do.
The Black Monster was clearly right there.
But the woodcutter said he couldn't see it.
So what could the Young Scholar do to make him see it?
He had no idea.
"...There's no way you can make me see it."
The woodcutter patiently gave the Young Scholar plenty of time.
Although he thought the result would be the same,
he wanted the Young Scholar to realize that