Wolf. (1)
"Think later. At this rate, the stew will go cold."
Hector said it casually, seemingly bothered by Woojin sitting there in silence for too long.
Woojin resumed eating. As the old man said, it would be a waste to let such precious food grow cold. He scooped up a large chunk of meat and chewed it slowly.
Still delicious.
The taste drew admiration anew. Curious, Woojin asked,
"What kind of meat is this? It's excellent."
"Lamb. More precisely, jerky soaked in water."
Lamb jerky.
Woojin frowned slightly.
"Where did you get lamb? I haven't seen any wild sheep around here."
"I bought it."
"Bought it? With money?"
Woojin repeated dumbly.
Instead of answering, Hector rummaged through his pocket and pulled out an old coin.
Ting!
He flicked it with his thumb. Woojin caught it reflexively.
On one side of the copper coin was the profile of a man. On the other, an engraving of a wall.
"Alliance currency. Commonly used on both sides of the Wall."
"I wasn't asking what it looks like… Isn't it foolish to trade food for a piece of metal like this? Food is hard to come by here."
"There are plenty of peddlers who travel between the Wall and the Demonic Realm. Decent profit in it. People like me pay a premium."
"As long as you've got money, getting food isn't so difficult," Hector added.
For some reason, Woojin felt aggrieved.
You're kidding me… So I've been the only one suffering like a dog all this time?
Food had always been one of his greatest concerns. Failing a hunt and going hungry for an entire day was common. He had even eaten poisonous plants out of ignorance and suffered miserably more than once.
The environment was too harsh for a powerless human.
He had assumed there were no other survivors—or, if there were, only a pitiful few barely scraping by.
Realizing he might have been the only one living such a grueling existence left a bitter taste in his stomach.
…Still, this isn't a bad development.
If he had to frame it in genre terms, Woojin had long regarded this world as a kind of apocalypse. Not a single human in sight, grotesque monsters swarming wherever he went.
But if it was dark fantasy instead?
Even better.
A world that is collapsing slowly is far preferable to one already completely ruined.
Even now, the difference was clear.
Just hours ago, he had been gnawing on a foul bat wing. Now he was luxuriously spooning down rich stew.
"Thank you. That was excellent."
After scraping the bowl clean, Woojin finally offered his thanks.
Hector merely nodded gruffly. He had already finished eating and resumed trimming his arrows.
Kim Woojin picked up the book again. Immersed in reading, time slipped away unnoticed.
At some point, the shadows deepened, and the letters grew difficult to see.
He glanced out the window. The sky had turned pitch-black.
I haven't even read a quarter of it.
The book was as thick as an encyclopedia, and the print was tiny. It would take days of patient reading to finish.
"May I continue tomorrow?"
"Go ahead."
Hector granted permission without hesitation, as if he had expected this.
"Then I'll return tomorrow."
Woojin prepared to leave.
Hector tilted his head slightly.
"…You're not going outside at this hour, are you?"
"Yes. Why?"
"I assumed you'd stay the night here."
After sunset, the Demonic Realm became even more dangerous. Hector likely assumed Woojin would prefer the safety of the cabin.
Woojin waved his hand lightly.
"It's fine. I've imposed enough already."
He had taken the book and eaten the stew. Asking for a bed on top of that would be shameless.
Letting a stranger sleep inside would make anyone uneasy.
That would only exhaust them both.
Woojin picked up his pack and stepped outside.
He felt the old man's gaze follow him, but he ignored it.
He walked into the sinister shadows of the forest. The traps scattered around seemed almost to welcome him.
No need to go far.
Camping nearby would suffice. With so many traps set, beasts would not approach carelessly.
Woojin gathered long branches and skillfully lashed them together with vines to form a makeshift shelter. He layered leaves and moss over the roof to keep rain out.
For something built on the spot, it looked quite decent.
He lay down beneath it.
…Strange. I can't fall asleep.
As he lay there, stray thoughts swirled in his mind—more intensely than usual.
The conversation with the old man. The contents of the book.
Woojin scratched the back of his neck irritably, then reached into his pocket and pulled something out.
The coin Hector had tossed him earlier.
Currency used inside the Wall, he said.
The Alliance's Wall.
To stop the southward advance of demonic beasts, the Order Alliance had built a massive barrier.
Many nations had fallen. Countless cities and villages had been destroyed.
Yet beyond the Wall, human civilization still endured.
A place where people could live like people.
Woojin had always dreamed of finding such a place—like a wanderer searching for an oasis in a barren desert.
That was why his heart felt restless.
He was running out of patience.
…Let's sleep quickly.
Tomorrow only comes if he sleeps.
The next morning.
Woojin stretched, loosening his stiff body. His condition was mediocre at best. An unexpected variable had kept him from sleeping properly.
Ah… don't the beasts around here ever sleep?
Just as he had barely settled his restless mind and begun drifting off, packs of wild dogs started barking somewhere in the distance.
With his unusually sharp hearing, Woojin had no choice but to endure it. He never fell into deep sleep—waking and dozing off at intervals of a couple of hours.
That's another reason to head beyond the Wall.
He wanted to stretch his legs and sleep peacefully for once. If he reached a human city, he could secure a comfortable place to stay.
Thinking that, he rose and headed toward the cabin. Since he had camped nearby, the hut soon came into view.
Hector was just stepping out the door, a long bow in hand.
"You're early. I was about to leave a note in case we missed each other—but I won't need to."
"Going hunting?"
"I have to. The only way to earn real money out here is by hunting demonic beasts."
Hector gestured toward the door.
"Read inside. I'll make a quick round of the area."
With that, he disappeared into the forest's shadows.
Left alone, Woojin returned to the cabin and resumed reading. Without anyone around, it was easier to concentrate. His eyes diligently scanned the lines of text.
Half a day passed like that.
Then—
A presence outside.
Footsteps. Something dragging across the ground. And intermittent dry coughing.
…Hector's back.
Woojin stood and went outside to greet the hunter.
Soon, Hector emerged from the trees.
Behind him, tied with rope and dragged along the ground, was the corpse of a wild dog.
It was enormous—easily over two meters in length. Its weight showed; Hector's shirt was soaked with sweat.
I should help.
Woojin stepped forward and grabbed the rope. With two of them pulling, the carcass moved more easily.
"…Much obliged. That helped."
"Gotta earn my keep."
Woojin replied lightly, examining the prey.
The carcass was hung upside down from a tree. Blood streamed from a puncture wound at the back of its neck.
Impressive shot.
Striking such a vital point with precision was no easy feat.
Hector drew a knife and began skinning the animal. Slipping the blade in near the ankle, he worked methodically.
Clearly not his first time. His movements were skilled and efficient.
Watching from the side, Woojin asked,
"Does this kind of dog hide sell for much?"
"Dog hide? No. This is a wolf."
Hector answered casually.
Woojin tilted his head.
"…Really? That's a wolf?"
"I'd ask you the same. Does this massive creature look like a dog to you?"
"It's bigger, sure. And a bit fiercer… but it looks like a dog."
Hector chuckled.
"A large, ferocious, untamed wild dog—we've agreed to call that a wolf."
"…."
Come to think of it, that was simply a social convention. Dogs and wolves were kin, after all.
Left speechless, Woojin sat down and continued watching.
Before long, the hide was removed, leaving behind dark red flesh.
Hector then scraped off bits of fat and meat clinging to the hide. If left untreated, it would rot quickly. It was painstaking work.
"I'll handle the rest."
"You know how to tan hides?"
"Yes. The clothes I'm wearing were processed by my own hands."
"I see…"
Hector stepped back as if inviting him to try.
Woojin drew his knife and knelt before the wolf hide.
The blade moved smoothly, shaving off fat like a razor. His technique was swift and precise—no less refined than the hunter's.
"…You're good. I can trust you with it."
Hector slung his bow over his shoulder and stood.
"Once you're done, hang it on the drying rack. I'll go check the traps I set."
"You're heading out again already?"
"Have to finish before sunset. If you get hungry, eat first. I left preserved food by the hearth."
With that, Hector disappeared into the forest once more. The sound of his dry cough faded gradually.
…As I thought. Something's wrong with his health.
Woojin watched the old hunter's back.
Hector's complexion was pale, and he coughed persistently whenever he exerted himself.
He seemed weakened for some reason—but avoided mentioning it. Woojin chose not to pry. Hector showed him the same courtesy.
He never asks personal questions.
From Hector's perspective, Woojin must have seemed highly peculiar.
He lacked even basic knowledge or common sense—didn't even understand currency.
Facing someone so strange would naturally raise questions.
Who is this man? Where did he come from?
If those questions were asked, Woojin would be in trouble. Telling the truth would make him sound insane. Lying was no option either—he lacked the background knowledge to fabricate a convincing story.
Hector must have noticed something and is refraining from asking.
In return for that consideration, Woojin treated the old hunter with equal respect.
Through this unspoken mutual understanding, their coexistence—fragile yet firm—continued.
…
Ten days passed like that.