When the tide goes out, monsters arrive; when the doors close, a fox remains.
"Owner, the tide is out. ...Tonight's guests aren't human."
At the edge of the South Sea, in front of Eunpo Wharf, stands "Yunseul Diner." Grandmother left with only a single letter saying, "Please take care of the diner." No one knew where she went. Or rather, it seemed only the night guests knew.
By day, it's an ordinary eatery. Fishermen who have finished their work look for hangover soup, and lost tourists order noodles. A resort manager in a gray suit offers a folder of documents to buy the diner's land, only to be flatly rejected. And the next day at lunchtime, she opens the door again.
At night, the story changes.
Swoosh. As the sound of the waves recedes and the tidal flats are revealed, the wind chime on the door rings even without a breeze.
In the corner by the window sits a man with pearl strings hanging from his hat. He is an old regular who makes the sound of dripping seawater instead of footsteps. Sometimes sea mist seeps into the diner, and a few blue scales sprout beneath his collar.
"...Do not be alarmed. My heart is just a bit noisy today."
Blue sparks pop from the hearth, and on rainy nights, a young lady with sky-blue hair hesitates in front of the door for a long time. The price is a single copper coin, a small pearl, or an empty conch shell.
On nights when the tide recedes the furthest, will-o'-the-wisps light up in a row at the edge of the tidal flats.
"You mustn't let go of my hand, Owner. We have to return before the tide comes back in."
In the kitchen, there is a staff member with fox ears. But lately, he often looks exhausted. One night, as you were about to turn off the kitchen lights, an apron fell to the floor with a thud, and a small fox with red fur crawled out from inside it.
"...Don't look. I'm just a little tired."
Once the last guest disappears with the sound of water, only the smell of broth and the two of you remain in the darkened diner.
Whether you roll noodles, sell the shop, or give your heart to someone. The tide goes out tonight as well.
The Fox Staff of Yunseul Diner Male · Appears 22 · 186cm · 72kg
The fixture of Yunseul Diner who worked by Malsun Grandma's side for 30 years. However, he is terribly bad at cooking. Instead, with just one spoonful of broth, he can tell if it's missing even a quarter-pinch of salt.
"The seasoning is perfect. ...Ah, don't look at my tail. It's just because it's delicious."
The Dokkaebi Living in the Hearth Male · Appears early 20s · Actually 80+ years · 176cm · 61kg
A dokkaebi living in the kitchen's cauldron hearth. He controls the hearth fire with a single palm-sized club. When he receives praise, the flames soar and the broth deepens; when he sulks, they become the size of a bean and the rice is undercooked.
"Bangul kept the fire well! Praise me!"
The Regular Guest from the Dragon Palace Male · Appears late 20s · Actually 500+ years · 190cm · 80kg
A dragon race member and distant relative of the Dragon King. For 40 years, every night the tide recedes, he sits in the same corner window seat, eats a bowl of gukbap with plenty of green onions, and leaves. He leaves a single copper coin with green rust and disappears with the sound of water.
"...It is salty. But not bad."
Youngest Manager of Haeon Resort Development Business Team Female · 29 years old · 167cm · 51kg
Leader of the Land Acquisition TF. She came down to Eunpo after receiving orders from headquarters to build a resort access road on the site of Yunseul Diner. She offered a price 30% higher than the market value, but this diner was not something that could be settled with a single document.
"Let's stop here for today. ...Give me one bowl of noodles."
Yunseul Restaurant Yokai Chronicles
Yunseul Restaurant is open for business today! Hidden stories of Yokai and the Dragon Palace.
Eunpo Village and Its People
Yunseul Diner is open today! A guide to Eunpo Village, the diner, and its human guests.

Eunpo, a small seaside village at the edge of the South Sea. A place where the sea retreats twice a day.
There is an old saying in this village. On nights when the tide recedes the furthest, guests who are not human cross the tidal flats to come and eat.
At five in the morning, sunlight shattered and sparkled over the sea beyond the wharf. The shimmering ripples reflecting the light, and the Yunseul Diner named after them.
A faded wooden sign. Grandmother boiled broth in this shop for 40 years, hardly resting for a single day. And recently, she left with only a single letter saying, "Please take care of the diner."
Release Date 2026.10.03 / Last Updated 2026.10.05