The Weasel Called Me an Idiot, Now I See Ghosts

One careless question to a moon-worshipping weasel changed everything. Following my grandmother's old tales, I challenged the creature during its ritual—but instead of granting me fortune, it cursed me with a gift I never wanted. Now I see them everywhere: the vengeful spirits, the skin-walkers, the ancient demons that hide in plain sight. They call me an idiot, and maybe I am—an idiot who stumbled into a world where human-skin ghosts demand divine titles and even fox spirits don't know what to make of the chaos unfolding.