Chapter 2
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Making a Person Out of the Black-Haired Beast (1)
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Five years had passed since then.
Eight years old.
I later learned that it wasn't normal for an eight-year-old human kid to live among a pack of ferocious Frost Wolves.
Of course, I wasn't the leader.
Their hierarchy was strict.
If anything, I was more like the action captain.
But the pack accepted me.
When my axe led the charge, the wolves followed, driving the prey toward me.
In the snow mountains, I was no longer alone.
I didn't sleep buried in the snow by myself.
I shared body heat with my brothers and gazed at the constellations of the snowy plains.
But even if my eight-year-old self was anything but ordinary, when one of my pack brothers had his head smashed by a massive Frost Bear's paw...
Swearing revenge while inhaling that blood scent was surely the most natural reaction.
"Awooooo-!"
When the leader declared revenge with a mournful howl, I was the first to grab my axe and charge out.
"Awoooo-!"
And so, we set off to hunt the Frost Bear.
Vowing to skin it and use the hide to cover our fallen brother's grave.
Kwaaaang-!
The Frost Bear's roar tore through the blizzard.
Every time its massive paw slammed the ground, the earth shook like an avalanche.
"Grrr!"
But we didn't back down.
Thwack-!
My axe dug into its thick hide.
"Kieeeek!"
At the same time, my wolf brothers tore into its ankles and scruff.
Crunch.
The sound of bones being crushed.
Splatter!
The sound of flesh ripping free, blood gushing like a fountain.
It was a brutal fight.
One swing of its paw sent brothers flying like autumn leaves, but we didn't relent with fangs and axe until its breath gave out.
Thud-!
Finally, the massive Frost Bear vomited blood and collapsed.
We had won.
But the price was steep.
The snowfield was littered not just with the bear's corpse, but with the bodies of the brothers who fought alongside me.
We buried our departed kin in the cold snow.
Revenge was over, but all that remained was the chill wind's howl, not cries of victory.
Like my first memory.
Alone.
Again.
I was dragging my blood-soaked body, axe in hand from slitting its throat, turning back weakly.
Was it the tension releasing?
Or had my beastly senses dulled?
Clank-!
"Grgh...!"
A gruesome tearing sound pierced my ankle.
A bear trap hidden in the snow-covered bushes.
Sharp steel jaws clamped my ankle.
Crack.
The sound of bone shattering hammered my eardrums.
Any normal kid would have screamed and wailed.
But I clamped my mouth shut like a beast.
Instinct told me screaming would reveal my position and make me prey.
I crouched in the snow, licking the trapped ankle with my tongue.
Fishy taste of blood.
Pain whitened my mind.
My eyes burned red instead.
'Who is it.'
I didn't care who set the trap.
Human hunter or beast drawn by the blood scent.
Anything approaching me, I'd tear apart and kill.
"Grrr..."
A beastly growl leaked from deep in my throat.
That was when it happened.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A massive shadow pierced the blizzard, approaching.
A giant with a mammoth skull on his shoulder and bear pelts draped over him.
Less a man, more a walking calamity on two legs.
The man glanced between me in the trap and the Frost Bear corpse I'd felled, then stroked his chin.
"Well, damn. One step too late."
His gaze lingered on the bear's head.
"Was gonna give that skull to my girl for her birthday. Beaten to the punch."
He smacked his lips in regret.
Then he chuckled at me snarling in the trap.
"Hey, wolf pup. Gonna yield to this uncle?"
"Grrr...!"
I gripped my axe tighter instead of answering.
Yield? Give that to dogs.
It's my kill.
I charged at him, dragging my mangled leg from the trap.
Kill.
The giant grinned at my killing intent.
"Feisty one."
Thump-!
A heavy blow to my solar plexus.
"Gah...!"
Breath cut off, vision went black in an instant.
In my fading consciousness, I faintly heard the man's mutter.
"...If I bring this, will she like it?"
Crackle, crackle.
Sound of firewood burning.
No slicing cold wind.
When I opened my eyes, it was an unfamiliar sight.
To me, ceilings were lightless caves.
A vast tent of animal hides, light shining up from below—this was my first.
My body lay on soft furs.
My trapped ankle was slathered in foul-smelling herbs.
"Awake?"
I turned at the familiar voice. The giant who'd picked me up was tearing into meat.
He grinned at me.
"Tough little bastard. Bones broken, but wouldn't drop the axe."
"......"
"Like your eyes. Gonna make you my son."
He laughed heartily, swallowing meat bone and all.
Son?
Family?
Words incomprehensible to me, raised wild with wolves.
But instinct knew.
Like 'brothers'.
This place is warm.
And that massive male means no harm.
And above all...
He's stronger than me.
My leader.
"Winter Claw Chieftain, Gorgon."
"Grrrrr."
"Call me Father."
And years later, I did call him Father.
Then, the tent flap burst open with a gust of cold wind, and someone entered.
"Daddy! You're really making me a bear-head helmet?"
Silver bobbed hair, eyes chill blue like the snowy mountain midday sky.
A girl my age.
Eyes brimming with excitement.
Gorgon grinned, chewing meat.
"Instead, brought the one who slit that bear's throat."
"......What."
The girl's gaze stabbed me.
Excitement turned to disappointment, her brow furrowing.
"This scrawny thing?"
Scrawny?
Lightning struck my brain.
Human speech, till now no different from beast cries, suddenly hit my brain with clear 'meaning'.
Like a long-forgotten sense reviving.
My human language ability pierced through instinct and awoke.
'Scrawny.'
Weak.
Frail.
The dictionary meaning and subtle nuance stabbed my pride dead center.
Dare call me scrawny?
Reason's thread snapped.
I hadn't learned human social norms yet.
Before me wasn't a cute girl, but a rival baring teeth in my territory.
Enemy eyeing the leader's spot.
"Grrr!"
I lunged on all fours like a beast, aiming for her scruff.
Kill.
Back then, beast cub that I was, I attacked the chieftain's daughter.
No helping it.
Black-haired beast and all.
But.
Thwack!
"Kek!"
My body spun beautifully in midair before slamming the floor.
What just happened?
Before I could recover, something heavy pinned my back.
The girl had twisted my arm, pinning me, looking down coldly.
"Where'd this untrained mutt come from, lunging at me?"
Overwhelming power.
I instinctively knew.
This female... is strong.
"Let... go...!"
"Sit."
She pressed my twisted arm; my scream turned to a stifled groan.
"Yelp...!"
"Good boy."
Only then did she release me.
Winter Claw Chieftain's daughter, Kara.
The girl dusted her dirtied hands and tossed me a leftover hunk of meat.
"Tough hide, though. Eat. Gotta live to try again."
I clutched my stinging shoulder, glaring at Kara, then picked up the fallen meat.
Eating means losing.
Losing.
To that female...
But.
Hunger was greater.
And those sky-blue eyes staring at me stirred a strange rivalry.
'I won't lose.'
Just watch. Next time, I'm on top.
I tore into the meat like a beast, blatantly.
Warm fire, meat scent, two pairs of eyes on me.
The wild wolf pup entered the fold for the first time.
Of course, dead last in the pecking order.
"Daddy."
Kara, mid-bite, asked abruptly.
"So, what's this mutt's name?"
"Name?"
"Yeah. Gotta name it to boss it around."
Gorgon stroked his chin beard, pondering.
Charged me while trapped, hunted Frost Bear with wolf pack.
One fierce mutt.
He grinned and spoke.
"Barg."
"Barg?"
"Yeah. Ancient tribe tongue for 'wolf that devours the snowfields'."
I pretended to be moved by the grand meaning.
But.
"Daddy, don't lie."
Kara tsked pityingly.
"It's just 'wolf' in ancient tongue. Why dress it up?"
"Ahem..."
Gorgon's sharp-eyed daughter left him coughing and averting gaze.
His attempt to sound cool backfired.
"Already learned ancient tongue from Baba the Elder?"
Kara shook her head at his embarrassment.
That was the moment my name, Barg, was born.
After that day, the process of becoming a Winter Claw Tribe member was grueling.
Hunting?
Easy.
Been doing it since three.
Fighting?
Fun.
Even got praise and food.
Huff, huff.
The problem hit in the wrong place.
The tent of the tribe's top shaman, Elder Baba.
In that incense-choked hell, I endured my life's worst torture.
"Now, repeat after me. This is the imperial word for 'apple'."
"......"
I blankly stared at the parchment her wrinkly finger pointed to.
My hand trembled holding the quill, lighter than an axe haft.
Better to fistfight a Frost Bear.
But Kara supervised beside me, glaring.
"Not writing? Dad said make you human."
"Ugh..."
I forced my eyes on the parchment.
Red circle drawing.
Wiggly imperial script below.
Apple
The moment I saw the letters.
Zing.
A sealed memory fragment surged from my brain's depths.
Like association, a bizarre vision overlaid the parchment.
A bitten apple logo.
A sleek black rectangular slab.
"Wha...?"
I muttered, entranced.
"iPhonR... smartphone...?"
What slipped from my mouth was neither tribe nor imperial tongue.
But the word twisted my subconscious, rolling off my tongue fluently.
Apple...
iPhone...
Installment plan...
Unlimited data...
"YouToob... Netflicks..."
The apple drawing floated, morphing into a 5G bill haunting my eyes.
Civilization's fond taste.
Capitalism's sweet scent.
Even the backstory of that CEO who could've lived but missed treatment out of stubbornness.
I stared blankly into space, quill-hand tracing a screen in air.
"Algorithm... Shorts... Next episode..."
"Has it gone mad?"
Smack!
"Ow!"
Ice bolt to the forehead.
Snapped back—Kara had whacked my brow with the quill.
Vision gone, drab tent ceiling returned.
Kara tsked pityingly.
"Mumbling what? Dumb Barg. Focus."
"No, it's not that..."
"Not that? Wipe your drool. Gross."
I wiped my mouth quick.
Drool.
Damn it.
How smartphone-obsessed was past-life me?
Drooling over one apple pic.
"Write again. No memorizing this by tonight, no dinner meat."
Under Kara's threat, I regripped the quill.
Finding past self mattered, but dinner meat mattered more now.
I scrawled 'apple' in crooked letters.
But in my mind's corner, the bitten apple logo still faintly gleamed.
That was the first sliver of memory I faintly tasted before realizing this world was 'from a novel'.