Episode 181 – Fire Eater – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 181 Show Notes

Source: Korean Folklore

This week on MYTH, we’ll travel through the mists of ancient Korea for a story of the protector of Seoul. You’ll learn that palaces make the best meals, that laborers are smarter than kings, and that volcanoes are friends with the wind. Then, in Gods and Monsters, a tiger will get into a battle of wits with a bunny rabbit. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 181, “Fire Eater”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
This week’s story comes once again from The Unmannerly Tiger and Other Korean Tales, collected by William Elliot Griffis in 1911. In an age long past, a great fire spirit made his home inside a mountain to the southwest of Seoul. As one would expect from an avatar of flame, he was always hungry and his food was literally anything and everything that could burn. And I do mean everything. He consumed everything organic for miles around his mountain – trees, brush, grass, entire forests and everything in them that didn’t run away fast enough. When he didn’t have anything flammable within his reach, he would gnaw on stones and rocks, his essence being more than hot enough to turn such things into red hot lava that he could spew across the world. It was entertaining if not entirely satiating.
His mountain home was, naturally enough, a massive volcano within sight of the city. Inhabitants of Seoul would watch the smoke rising up from the crater during the day and, at night, they saw the bright, burning lava churning and boiling in the volcano until all the heavens seemed to burn. During such times, it would be said around town that the great fire spirit was lighting up his palace. Which, in a very real way, it was. On nights when it was cloudy, the glow from the molten mass inside the caldera was reflected so that you could almost see into the very mouth of the terrible beast.
The people had good reason to watch the light show from the volcano. You see, nothing was quite as tasty to the fire spirit , Fire Eater, as the things which were built by the hands of men. Fences, stables, houses, and anything else people built were a favorite treat. The greatest of all, the one forbidden food that he longed more than anything to devour, was the royal palace. He had risen up out of his volcano one day and spotted the king’s enormous home, bright and shiny and new. It had looked unbelievably appetizing, and Fire Eater had chuckled to himself as his mouth, well, not watered exactly but dripped fire or something. “That looks like quite the feast for me. I could just mosey on down my mountain and gobble it right up. I wonder how the king would like it if I devoured his dainty morsel.”
Fortunately for said king, the great fire spirit was in no particular hurry. Anticipation just made the dish all the sweeter, after all. And besides, it was always better to share with a friend, so he waited until South Wind was able to join him for this revelry. “No rush, bro. Just let me know when you’re ready and we’ll paint the town red in a splendid blaze of glory. We can light up the night and enjoy a lovely dance across town before they can manage to get a single drop of water on us and ruin our fun. Just make sure you don’t let word slip to the rain clouds or they’ll come rain on our parade.” South Wind was always down for a bit of fiery fun, so she readily agreed to Fire Eater’s plan. It sounded like a splendid frolic.
That night, when the sun went down, the fire spirit climbed out of his rocky home to greet the evening. He stretched up towards the sky in the volcano’s crater and then began striding towards Seoul. South Wind joined him, flitting and dancing around until the gusts were so strong that no one dared go outside in a hat, lest they lose it. This was especially troublesome for the men in mourning since the traditional dress included a massive straw hat as wide across as a washtub. Thus, these men locked themselves inside and played games at home. The blasting winds made it harder for people to notice anything up with the volcano. The king’s guards, who were supposed to be on watch for such things, had fallen asleep on the job and didn’t see the pair of elemental spirits nearing.
“South Wind, it’s time for our banquet to begin. Blow your largest blast yet, and I’ll reach out to touch the roofs of the smaller houses on the city’s edge. It’ll be a nice appetizer, an amuse bouche before the main course. Let’s light up the night with our revelry and feasting!” The poor people of Seoul had no idea of the encroaching danger until it was already amongst them. The roaring and cracking of the mighty fire running across the roofs of the outlying homes awoke the sleeping populace, who looked out their windows and saw that the city was aflame. The fire reached up to the heavens with long red tongues that licked the very stars above. Those who looked out in the direction of the palace could be forgiven for thinking that the sun was rising early at first. Until the roofs and mighty columns began collapsing in a thunderous crash, at least. The resulting pillars of swirling fire and clouds of sparks spiraling on the gusting winds told the story of the conflagration sweeping through Seoul.
By the time that the sun actually did rise, there was nothing left but a field of ash and cinder where the magnificent buildings had so recently stood. Even the towering pillars of smoke had been blown away by South Wind, leaving the world buried in a downy blanket of devastation. The king and his people in the palace had made it out with their lives by fleeing the fiery tidal wave of flaming destruction as fast as they could, but now they returned to see what was left. Which, as it turned out, was nothing. They looked out over the ruins and contemplated this terrible loss, and they began to discuss what had happened. It didn’t take long for the king to decide that this couldn’t be allowed to happen again. Fire Eater needed to be stopped. For good.
A council of wise men was thus called to discuss this question and figure out what to do the next time the flaming beast took it into his head to saunter into town and destroy everything. He’s Godzilla except he’s an avatar of natural destruction instead of nuclear war. These wise, bearded heads bowed low in long, hard thought about the situation. They quickly realized that there was much they weren’t experts in that were relevant. Invitations were soon sent out for all of the fire fighters, stone cutters, fortune tellers, dragon tamers, geomancers, and builders skilled in preventing fires were invited to come and give their advice and opinions on how to fight the hungry flame demon.
The council of the wise spent several weeks listening and pondering before finally coming to a solution. They agreed that a dragon from China should be brought over to Korea. If such a powerful beast were kept safely in the nearby swamp and fed well to keep it content, then surely it would be able to keep the fire spirit at bay. Dragons were also well known to be friendly with the winds; it would also be able to keep South wind amused and persuade it not to join in on any future dances of death and destruction. So like inviting over your very own Mothra to keep Godzilla in check. Yes, I grew up watching Godzilla and other kaiju movies. Why do you ask?
Anyway, you couldn’t just kidnap a dragon lest you end up with two angry giant monsters rampaging through your city. The one surefire way to convince one to become your protector was to bribe the shit out of it. Thus, the king sent emissaries to one of China’s largest dragons, a water wyrm capable of calling down rain or spitting vast torrents of water upon its enemies. It took a great deal of finagling to settle upon a very expensive price, but it was finally achieved. The dragon was shipped over the sea to Korea and moved into its new swamp home. To make sure to stay in its good graces, they honored their new dragon protector with a royal decoration. They also gave it kingly gifts: a string of amber beads to wear over its ear, a fine horsehair hat, a girdle fit for a nobleman, and all of the fresh turnips it could eat. I had no idea that dragons liked turnips, but that’s what the story says. In every way that the dragon desired, it was feted and treated like a beloved personal guest of the king.
And it didn’t fucking work at all. See, it turns out that keeping a rain dragon next to your city makes it, you know, rain all the fucking time. We’re talking torrential downpours every day until the earth itself was thick, sticky mud day in and day out. When the king’s advisors went to the dragon and asked it very nicely to please not drown us all, even bribes weren’t enough to keep it from getting sulky and petulant. It neglected its duty and required further bribes of treats and fine foods to get it back in a good mood. This cycle soon made the dragon fat and lazy, like an overfed dog. One night, it fell asleep while it was supposed to be on duty protecting against volcanic destruction while the winds were feeling especially frisky.
Fire Eater had been frustrated by the presence of a water dragon in his favorite restaurant, so he’d been keeping an eye out for an opportunity. He quickly spotted that his supposed jailer was asleep on the job and a smile lit up his face. He leapt up on the swirling winds and rode down to Seoul. He moved more quickly this time, devouring rather than savoring. In a matter of only a few hours, the newly-built royal palace was once again a pile of ashes. These, the flame spirit treated the way a human might the discarded peanut shells tossed on the floor of a dive bar. All the delectable morsels had been eaten, and the rest was left behind as trash.
Tears of anger, anguish, and frustration brimming in his eyes, the king and his wise men met again to decide on a new scheme to keep their resident kaiju in check. As Tokyo has learned many times to its dismay, having a second kaiju around to counter-rampage doesn’t actually work out that well. They had previously tried to be compassionate, but the fire monster had eaten the palace to the ground twice now. They were ready for a lethal solution and had many a fantasy of seeing the beast drowned in the ocean or eaten by some more terrible monster than he. The Chinese water dragon was simply not up to this task, and it had plainly failed at its assigned jailer duties, so it was dismissed and sent back to its home.
The fortune tellers, well diggers, and stone cutters were given more space to speak in this second round of deliberations. For many days, they studied local maps with the wise men. They spoke of geography and topography; they looked at the mountains, valleys, and the volcano around Seoul; they studied the changing air currents. Eventually, a man especially famous for his deep knowledge of the nature of the woods and the rivers had an idea and spoke up. “I think we can all agree that the fires always come from the volcano to the southwest before running along this valley and into the city, yes?” All the gathered wise men shouted their agreement with this self-evident statement. “Well then, if we want to cut the lava off from our fair city, then why don’t we literally cut it off? We dig a massive pond right in the middle of the fire spirit’s path, an artificial lake really, wide and deep, that Fire Eater will tumble into if he comes this way again. He will be able to come no further if we do it right.”
The assemblage of wise men considered this course of action and decided that it did indeed seem like a good plan. Better, it didn’t depend on the vigilance and good nature of a lazy dragon that had to be bribed at great expense. Thus, all of the skilled diggers of wells and drainage ditches were called to the capital city. They worked the land for weeks with spade and shovel until finally the enormous pit was ready to be turned into a lake. Only then was the canal from the river finished and allowed to drain into the muddy hole. The assembled people gathered to watch this last step and cheered, thinking that at last they could sleep without fear of the angry volcano spirit.
The great fire spirit hadn’t been keeping an eye on the actions of the human, which were quite frankly beneath him. What he did notice was that that obnoxious water dragon was finally gone. Sure, he’d managed to rampage through the palace once while it was here, but that was only because it had gotten bored and fallen asleep. The plan hadn’t been a bad one since the water dragon had indeed been able to drive the fire spirit off with torrential downpours when it was paying attention. Since it was finally gone, Fire Eater figured he was free to rampage at will again. And he was hungry.
Thus, the fire demon climbed out of his volcano once more and flowed down the slope towards the palace. The South Wind was busy elsewhere on this particular day, but Fire Eater was too hungry to wait for their schedules to sync up. Being eagerly focused on the palace, he didn’t notice the new pond until, as predicted, he tripped and fell right into it. It wasn’t wide or deep enough to stop him from getting across, but the dunking did leave him cold and wet enough that his fire was almost out by the time it reached the palace. The demon only managed to eat half of the palace before the firefighters arrived with their buckets of water and sand and he was forced to retreat, still hungry and frustrated.
It had worked out much, much better than the dragon had and it had been much, much cheaper to boot, so the chief well-digger was summoned to an audience with the king. In honor of his work and planning on the construction of the pond, he was conferred with a minor noble rank for him and his descendants. To start his line off right, he was also given four bales of silk, forty pounds of white ginseng, a tiger skin robe, sixty dried chestnuts, and forty-four strings of copper cash. Taken all together, it was a small fortune, much more than he could ever have hoped to make by digging wells, no matter how skillfully. He dropped to his knees to thank the king with all the humility he could summon.
That said, the fire imp had still been able to make it across the pond and reach the palace, even if he had been greatly diminished in the doing. Thus, a master stone cutter, the chief of their guild, was called to his own royal audience. “Okay so I know that you’ve proposed making a gigantic statue of a beast that could eat flames, one ugly enough to scare away the fire imp for years now. We’ve always worried that the cost was going to be disastrous for a piece of intentionally ugly art, but the cost of constantly rebuilding the palace is mounting. The pond was a great start, but it’s not enough on its own, so now is your time to shine. Can you do it?”
The stone mason assured the king and his court that he could indeed do this. They would not regret finally letting him complete his masterpiece. The order was duly given and the stone carver rushed off to begin his work. From the heart of the mountains, a truly titanic block of white granite was cut out and brought to Seoul on rollers. Moving it took thousands of workers to push, pull, and hoist the massive stone block into its resting place. Canvas screen were set up to keep it secret. They wanted Fire Eater to be as surprised as possible when it was finally unveiled.
Hammer clanged on chisels for weeks as the stone cutter and his workers carved the stone into a beast. At last, it was done and the Great Stone Flame Eater was ready to be dragged to his permanent seat beside the gates of the royal palace. It would become the new guardian of the royal buildings and treasures (in combination with the massive artificial lake, at least).
The canvas screens did a fantastic job of keeping the fire monster from seeing the stone monster, but it did a less fantastic job of keeping out the monster’s bestie, South Wind. She had flitted around and about the work site and reported back to the volcano to try and warn her friend about the city’s plans. Fire Eater just laughed at the news. “I’m serious, dude. They were saying that this horrible thing they’ve made could eat you up as easily as you devour the palace.” “Damn, you worry too much. Those humans ain’t got shit on me. I’ll just take a little stroll down to the city and see for myself if you don’t mind. And even if you do mind. No one stops my flame from devouring what I wish, not even you.”
And so, that night, the fire demon crept out of his volcano and moved towards the city as quietly as he could manage. He’s a giant, all-consuming firestorm so I’m not sure how stealthy he can really be but he’s giving it his best shot. He soon came to the pond and, as the well-digger had planned, the only way past was through. Holding his breath anxiously, Fire Eater waded out into it and flowed across. He nearly drowned along the way, but he managed to persevere. Barely. Plucking up his courage after that harrowing experience, the fire beast crept on towards the royal palace where the dread guardian was supposedly waiting.
The palace gate loomed ahead and with it the towering bulk of the stone guardian. The imp was moving as quietly as he knew how but, like I mentioned before, an all-consuming conflagration can only go so quietly. The crackling and popping gives it away even when it’s not a towering inferno. He made enough noise that the stone behemoth heard him.
As Fire Eater approached, the Great Stone Flame Eater turned his rocky head to look directly at the him. This was a creature that the fire demon had never seen before anywhere on the earth or in the heavens. It was enrobed in massive slabs of fireproof scales like those of a mythical salamander. Great curls of asbestos hair fell from its head and its gaping maw was lined with razor-sharp fangs. It was a hideous monster and it looked large enough and hungry enough to devour the much-diminished volcano spirit in one awful gulp. He froze, unable to stop picturing those terrible jaws closing on his throat and shaking the life out of him. “It’s half alligator, half snapping turtle, and all vicious. No dinner is worth death, no matter how tasty. Fuck it, I’m out of here.” And he left.
With that single terrifying glare, the statue achieved what the water dragon had failed to – it drove away the flame spirit forever. The volcano went dormant and never erupted again, allowing the city’s inhabitants to stop rebuilding the palace over and over. If you travel to Seoul to this very day, you can see the ugly brute, the Haechi, who still keeps his endless vigil over the city, making sure that Fire Eater never returns. And so, with Seoul now safe from the constant threat of fiery destruction, it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s animal rivals are Old White Whiskers and Mr. Bunny.
This story also comes from The Unmannerly Tiger and Other Korean Tales, collected by William Elliot Griffis. Despite the cutesy name, Old White Whiskers was actually an enormous tawny tiger that stalked the mountains of Kang Wen. He was the proudest tiger in all of Korea but, to be fair, he’d earned it. He had the fiercest flashing eyes, the longest tail, the sharpest claws, and the most beautiful stripes of any animal in the mountain (I have to imagine that there aren’t all that many other tigers in his territory). He could easily bring down a lumbering cow for dinner, fight all of the dogs in the village and win, and even kill and eat a man. He had learned to be cautious of the guns the hunters carried, but otherwise Old White Whiskers feared neither man nor beast. He was a terror in the local villages, often tearing off the roofs of the stables or breaking the barred windows on the barns to slip inside where the tasty morsels were kept. The tiger would generally kill and eat one pig on the spot before dragging a second away to his lair many miles away to feed his cubs. Which makes him a good dad but a bad neighbor.
Even more than all of this though, White Whiskers was proud of the fact that he was a highly regarded retainer of the great genii of the mountains. I suspect that this is a translation error, and is more likely meant to be nature spirits like a dokkaebi or mountain spirits like a sansin (most likely the latter since they are depicted as old men sitting atop a mountain with a tiger companion). The local populace feared these great spirits and built shrines in their honor to worship them in. Any one of these sansin could, if he wanted to, call together all of the tigers in his domain and then, sitting astride the biggest, fiercest tiger, he would ride across the clouds. This was only done in dire need, usually to allow the mountain spirit to ride to victory over Korea’s enemies. They could also call upon any tiger or leopard as a messenger, but the most important missives were reserved for the swiftest tigers.
White Whiskers was this most trusted tiger for his mountain spirits. It was his duty to visit the shrines scattered across the hills each day to see if the proper offerings had been made. Given the fear that both the sansin and his deadly tiger henchman inspired, people generally did leave generous offerings every day. They piled up stone, rags, bits of metal, or dishes piled with food for the tyrannical spirit. The poor people were terrified that, if they did not, the angry spirit would send his tigers to prowl their village and devour their livestock and their children and even the grown humans. This was a very rational fear because, on the few occasions where the offerings had not been made, these man-eaters had indeed come and decimated the offending villages. The hunters had then taken their guns and gone out into the forests in search of these man eaters. Alas, by the time they were able to safely head out, the tigers were usually long gone and napping miles away in their hidden lairs, safe and sound.
It was so hard to get a clean shot at a tiger, in fact, that the Chinese (who have a very long, intense, and often violent history with Korea) would mock their neighbors. “Look at these dipshits! Half the year, they hunt the tigers but the tigers hunt them the other half! They go out with their guns in summer without shooting anything and then huddle inside in the winters to hide from the beasts stalking their streets.”
A dangerous tiger like White Whiskers doesn’t get to become Old White Whiskers without being as crafty as he was proud. He’d treated the villagers pigs, calves, dogs, donkeys, and chickens as a buffet, eating whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. He’d even killed and eaten two grown men, avoiding all of their carefully laid traps and desperate bullets in response. Having been so successful for so long, the tiger began to get too big for his striped britches. “I am smarter, stronger, and faster than all of my enemies! There is none who can stand up to my terrible claws or find me if I do not wish to be found. I’m invincible!”
Mr. Bunny was the opposite of White Whiskers. He lived in a cozy burrow in a hill near one of these villages and had often heard the squealing of unfortunate pigs or the kicking and braying of terrified donkeys as they became dinner. Listening to that red slaughter so often made Mr. Bunny extremely cautious. He had avoided ending up in the ravaging maw of that dread tyrant mostly by making sure the tiger never knew he was there at all. His luck ran out on a cold winter’s day.
Mr. Bunny had been heading home after a fruitless search for some remaining scraps of food. He was tired, weak, and starving, having had nothing to eat at all since the day before. Just as he was crossing the river, hopping across the ice, he found himself face to face with Old White Whiskers. The tiger had been lurking behind a rock beside the entrance to Mr. Bunny’s burrow, waiting for his return. He stared at the small rabbit, trying to freeze his prey with fear at the intensity of his gaze. For his part, the rabbit kept his cool, managing to hide any shivers of terror. He knew that tigers, like many cats, enjoyed playing with their food before eating it and he feared that his final hour had come, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.
You can’t listen to a terrifying tiger devour your unlucky neighbors without creating a plan for the day when you finally have your fateful encounter with him. Mr. Bunny was ready. Step one was to throw the tiger off his game, get him off balance. White Whiskers neither knew nor cared of the plans of this small bunny, knowing in his bones that he would be cracking open the rabbit’s bones in a few minutes to lap at the marrow. “I usually like to play with my food, but I’m fairly hungry. That’s good news for you, since it means I’m going to make your death a quick one.” Mr. Bunny cocked his head in confusion. “If you’re so hungry, then why even bother with me? I haven’t eaten well in weeks, so I’m just fur and bones. I’ll hardly be a mouthful, barely worth the effort of chewing. Just seems an awful waste to me, your majesty, when I can get you a meal fit for one of your noble stature and prodigious appetite. If you work with me and let me live, I’ll go up into the mountain and drive the game down to you. You’ll get a massive banquet without having to lift a paw to hunt it so long as you do exactly as I say.”
Old White Whiskers wasn’t used to his food offering deals, so he sat back on his haunches to consider. After a moment, a toothy smile spread across his feline face. To remind the pesky little bunny of who was in charge here, he yawned hugely, showing off his sharp white teeth and long curved tongue covered in rough edges almost like thorns. It had the intended effect on Mr. Bunny, who was terrified out of his wits, but he kept his cool outwardly. He’d never looked down a tiger’s throat before, but he acted as if this was just any Tuesday. He told himself that it was just the tiger’s way of showing appreciation and anticipation of the coming feast, but he knew he was bullshitting himself. The big cat was taunting him.
“An intriguing offer. I accept. If you can really provide the feast you promise, I won’t eat you. And I’ll follow your instructions. For now.” “I’m so glad to hear it, your highness. It has always been my greatest ambition to serve the great lord of these mountains. All you need to do is lie down here, shut your eyes, and do not move. Your eyes are so fierce and fiery that no one could possibly fail to notice them with them open! Plus the charm I’m going to use won’t work unless they’re closed, so no peeking. I’ll make a circle of dry grass and then go round and round you, driving all of the game in the area to you. You’ll hear some noises, maybe even some crackling, but it’ll take time to get everything in place, so keep your eyes closed until I give the word that it’s done.”
Old White Whiskers was a lazy cat and he was tired of slinking through the forest and prowling through the pig pens all day with nothing to show for his efforts but frustration and a growing appetite. Lying down and having a rest sounded quite nice, especially with a meal waiting for him at the end of it. A nap was just the ticket. He curled up, closed his eyes, and was asleep as fast as blowing out a candle.
Which was the outcome that Mr. Bunny had been hoping for. As soon as the tiger’s breathing evened out into a light snoring, he got to work. He did indeed gather up all of the dried grass he could find, piling it up high around the tiger in an unbroken circle. Only when it was towering high enough that Mr. Bunny risked toppling the whole thing by adding more did he decide that he was satisfied. The story doesn’t explain how, but he apparently set fire to the grasses, which is a very un-bunnylike thing to do. Chortling to himself, Mr. Bunny raced away to watch the coming fun from a safe distance.
The heat of the fire, the sting of the smoke, and the crackling of the burning grass awoke Old White Whiskers from his cat nap. He yawned and stretched, wondering what that strange sound was. From high on the mountainside, Mr. Bunny called out in a voice tinged with laughter “I said no peeking! You promised, remember?” This delayed the tiger’s opening his eyes for a few moments more as the tiny rabbit raced away and vanished into his burrow. Soon though, the sensations were too painful to ignore and he opened his eyes to see himself surrounded by towering flames. “You tricksy asshole! Fuck you and your lies!” Snarling, he gathered himself and leapt over the top of the flickering tongues of fire. He made it with his life, but he singed one paw badly, scorching away his fine fur and leaving him with a terrible limp.
When Old White Whiskers returned home that evening, hurting and hungry, the other tigers laughed at his misfortune. It was so embarrassing for a proud tiger like he to be bested by a prey animal, especially one as small and weak as a little bunny rabbit! Brains had won the day over brawn as the tiger fell into the trap of his own arrogance and conceit. He also lost his pride of place with the mountain spirit, who no longer trusted a servant so thoughtless and easily tricked as all that. His reputation, built over a lifetime of raiding barns and killing men, was gone in a flash. He was now just the tiger who’d been outwitted by a rabbit. Ashamed and angry, he stopped being careful and soon ended his days in a hunter’s trap. His beautiful fur coat was skinned and now adorns the chair of a general when he goes out riding. When he’s at home, the skin is a rug for his children to play on.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on TuneIn, on Vurbl, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Instagram as MythsYourTeacherHatedPod, on Tumblr as MythsYourTeacherHated, and on Bluesky as MythsPodcast. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff.
Next time, it’s off to France for one of the first true fairy tales. You’ll see that you don’t have to have a stepmother to be treated like trash, that it’s always wise to be kind to others, and that cruel words bring cruel results. Then, in Gods and Monsters, Reynard the fox will long for a taste of mutton. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.