In a dark, damp cave lived a peculiar group of foxes. Not only did they lack homes of their own, but even the place where they lived together was in dreadful condition.
The cave's stone walls were wet and slick, with some patches covered in moss.
With so many foxes packed inside, an unbearable stench permeated every corner.
Yet the foxes living there seemed not to notice at all. They huddled together, occupied with all manner of things.
Of course, perhaps they had simply grown accustomed to this life long ago.
Their fur came in different colors. Some were grayish white, some brown, and others red.
But despite the jumble of colors, these foxes all shared one trait: each had three tails.
Outside the cave, the sun blazed in a clear sky, yet the foxes crammed inside seemed to have no intention of going out.
Just then, an elderly-looking man walked in from outside.
The old man surveyed the Three-Tailed Fox Demons scattered across the ground, his eyes filled with displeasure. "Looking like this, you still hope to replace the Nine-Tailed Tribe as rulers of Thousand Fox Mountain? You'd have an easier time dreaming."
A red fox glanced lazily at the old man and flicked his tails. "As far as you're concerned, His Highness alone is enough anyway. The rest of us are just useless trash meant to make him shine. Why bother with us?
"This is nothing but a home for trash, and didn't you abandon us long ago?
"Now you've come running here to spout all this nonsense. Don't tell me you've discovered some new value in us and want to squeeze one last use out of us trash."
The red fox's words immediately drew the attention of the other foxes nearby. They watched the old man warily,