Ggobongi (2)

His vision spun in dizzying circles. Time seemed to crawl to a grinding halt.

The albino gorilla who had once answered to the name Wi Baek—Ggobongi—found a singular question surfacing amid his spiraling consciousness.

What just happened...?

Whether beast or man, sudden death arriving in the span of an instant was difficult to comprehend.

Yet Ggobongi had witnessed it with absolute clarity.

In a world flipped upside down, the tree sloth had been gazing quietly down upon him.

And upon the sloth's lethally honed claws glistened fresh blood.

Only then did he belatedly realize that the sloth had cleanly severed his head.

"Uwoh?!"

Ggobongi gasped in sheer terror, his eyes tearing wide open. Cold sweat cascaded down his thick fur, and his heart hammered violently against his ribcage like a trapped drum.

The moment he broke free of the vision, the first thing he did was frantically grope at his neck.

Just a heartbeat ago, his head had been tumbling through empty air. Yet right now, it sat perfectly intact upon his shoulders.

Wh-what on earth was that just now...?

Even knowing it had been a hallucination, he could not simply brush it off. Beast or human, anyone would have reacted the same.

Still pawing at his throat, Ggobongi raised trembling eyes to look ahead.

Standing before him was the tree sloth, wearing its usual unbothered, serene expression.

It even tilted its head slightly, as if wondering what all the fuss was about.

C-Could it be...?

A beast's primal instinct whispered the chilling truth. That had been no mere hallucination.

If that clawed arm had swung all the way down, the phantom pain would have manifested instantly into cold, bloody reality.

Beasts were incapable of higher-order philosophical reasoning. Yet when it came to survival—when it came to death itself—they accepted the truth faster than any other creature on earth.

Scratch, scratch.

Whether Ggobongi stood paralyzed in horror or not, the Fast Tree Sloth, Ppareumbo, simply scratched at its head.

It radiated the faint impression of: If you've got something to say, spit it out already.

Yet what could a beast that had just tasted the bitter threshold of death possibly say?

Ggobongi shrank back, slowly creeping backward to put distance between himself and Ppareumbo.

N-Now I understand.

Why Grylls had entrusted the collar's key to this sloth.

It wasn't a trap at all.

The answer was blindingly simple: Ppareumbo was the undisputed powerhouse of this territory.

Grylls, at the very least, had never radiated enough terrifying pressure to project illusions of decapitation straight into his mind.

With that realization, Ggobongi reached a subsequent conclusion.

The sloth is far stronger than the human. Which means...!

That human was merely this sloth's underling—in other words, its slave!

It was a deduction strictly bound by a beast's limited perspective, yet ironically, it sliced ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dead-center into the truth of their dynamic.

After all, Grylls regularly offered all manner of delicacies as tribute in exchange for Ppareumbo's ironclad protection.

To put it another way, even if he managed to overpower Grylls, he could never truly attain freedom so long as this sloth remained standing.

The Alpha...

Beside any alpha, there was always a cunning, industrious subordinate.

That human undoubtedly filled that exact role.

Furthermore, all the exhausting, tedious physical labor around the camp fell entirely on his shoulders.

Escape is... impossible.

Ggobongi's spirits plummeted. He knew it in his very bones.

Even if he died and came back to life ten times over, he wouldn't be able to leave a single scratch on that sloth.

Charge at a monster capable of killing him in his mind? Knowing how precious his own life was, he recognized that such an act would be sheer madness.

However...

This wasn't entirely a curse. Ggobongi had spent years surviving as a solitary outcast in the wild. Across the vast, deadly reaches of the Forest of the Four Seasons, creatures possessing raw power on par with this sloth were extraordinarily scarce.

If forced to name one, perhaps only his estranged sibling—the Chief Gorilla who led the great troop—could compare.

That meant that if he could simply get on this sloth's good side, his personal safety would be guaranteed beyond measure.

Perhaps this sovereign...

Could be the very one to crush that hypocritical brother of his.

Perhaps because he had just witnessed his own severed head rolling across the grass, Ggobongi's thoughts churned with unprecedented speed.

Locking eyes with Ppareumbo, Ggobongi slowly and deliberately lowered his massive head.

"Qiao qiao cha-wo."

It was a rough plea in his broken Zhongyuan tongue, begging to be accepted into service.

Unlike his defiant attitude toward Grylls, he was showing genuine, humble deference to an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠undeniable apex predator.

Ppareumbo blinked placidly at Ggobongi, then tilted its head once more.

It was a reaction of complete and utter incomprehension. Ggobongi, however, interpreted the gesture in an entirely different light.

It seems he does not trust me yet.

And reasonably so. He had, after all, barged violently into this sovereign's territory uninvited.

By the unforgiving law of the wild, he would have had no right to complain even if his throat had been torn out on the spot. Yet the sloth before him had spared his life. What monumental mercy!

Earning his acknowledgment must come first.

Ggobongi resolved firmly within his heart. He would prove his competence, become Ppareumbo's trusted right-hand retainer, push aside that endlessly chattering human, and claim the alpha's favor for himself.

To do that, like it or not, I must obey that human's orders for now.

Bitter as it felt, he could swallow his pride. Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet. Such were the words once spoken by the human who had imparted wisdom unto him.

With his grand strategy established, Ggobongi maintained impeccable manners before Ppareumbo. Yet mere etiquette was never enough. In the wild, loyalty had to be demonstrated through tangible action.

Did that human do it like this?

Without waiting for instructions, Ggobongi walked over to the carpentry station.

Though his movements were clumsy, he took up the saw and worked the timber exactly as Grylls had demonstrated earlier. While his mana remained thoroughly suppressed, the immense physical strength inherent to a gorilla remained fully intact.

"Huh? What's this? You're working on your own?"

Right on cue, Grylls emerged from the brush.

Inside the woven fish trap hanging from his hand, several fat, silver-scaled river fish were thrashing vigorously.

Ggobongi stole a quick sideways glance at Grylls before returning silently to his self-assigned "duties."

"Well... hey, works for me. Wrap it up there for now and let's eat."

"..."

Ggobongi feigned ignorance. He couldn't understand human speech anyway.

Yet the instant he saw Ppareumbo begin to sluggishly stir, he immediately dropped his saw.

If the alpha sovereign himself was preparing to dine, how could a lowly underling dare continue making noise with his labor?

He moved over to Ppareumbo's side, plastering himself beside the sloth and waiting with absolute docility.

Meanwhile, Grylls set about cooking, just as he always did.

"Here. Dig in. Have one yourself."

Before long, a sizzling, golden-brown grilled fish was held out toward him.

Ggobongi carefully gauged the sloth's mood before extending a tentative hand. Having just come off the fire, the meat was scalding hot, but against his thick, calloused palms, it posed no problem whatsoever.

"How is it? Good, right?"

"..."

At Grylls's question, Ggobongi gave a stiff nod. Loath as he was to admit it, the taste was extraordinary.

A remarkably versatile fellow.

Truly an exemplary head slave. No wonder Ppareumbo kept him around.

Ggobongi devoured the grilled fish down to the bones, silently reaffirming his determination to outshine Grylls as swiftly as possible.

I must work even harder.

A dutiful, subservient work ethic was gradually taking root in Ggobongi's chest.

"Kyuu?"

"..."

"Kyuuu~"

Just then, Wonmo trotted over and began affectionately rubbing his fluffy cheek against Ggobongi's shins.

It was a warm, ridiculously adorable greeting, welcoming him as part of the family.

Ggobongi gazed down at Wonmo's endearing behavior for a moment, then gave a solemn nod.

A truly benevolent master. To have taken in and raised even such a helpless cub.

Layer upon layer of bizarre misunderstandings continued to accumulate.

Did he eat something rotten while I was down at the river?

In the brief window I had been away, the formerly ferocious Ggobongi had turned as meek as a lamb.

While I couldn't grasp the exact psychological journey he had undergone, I had a pretty good guess.

Did Ppareumbo beat some sense into him?

There was no other way his mental state could have been so thoroughly remodeled. He must have caught an absolute beatdown and abandoned all hope of rebellion.

From my perspective, it couldn't have been better.

Scritch, scratch! Saw, saw!

"Yeah. Just like that. Keep it up."

"..."

I had gained a genuinely fantastic laborer.

All I had to do was demonstrate a cut once, and Ggobongi handled the rest on his own. Occasionally he butchered an angle, but given that he was a beast, that was well within an acceptable margin of error.

Besides, the delicate finishing work like hand-planing was something I planned to do myself anyway. Primates, by nature, weren't built for fine craftsmanship.

Even so, having an extra set of hulking arms doubled our building efficiency.

Whoa. We're already this far along?

Before I knew it, nearly all the timber required to construct the bridge had been prepared. We had even restored the majority of the logs destroyed during Ggobongi's initial rampage.

It was only possible because Ggobongi relentlessly powered through the sawing while I focused entirely on shaving smooth planks with the plane.

"Ggobongi. That's enough for today, take a breather. Dawn's about to break."

"..."

Yet this guy was stubborn to a fault.

Whether an innate workhorse mentality had fully awakened in him or he simply couldn't comprehend what I was saying, his arms never stopped moving.

I studied Ggobongi's broad back as a lingering question resurfaced in my mind.

Just who taught him how to speak?

Considering he was brothers with the Chief Gorilla, they must have learned from the same human. Furthermore, Ppareumbo didn't seem to recognize Ggobongi at all.

He had likely broken away from the gorilla troop when he was still young. Years later, he had killed Senior Lyse Kraone.

There were simply too many things I needed to know. I organized my questions systematically in my head.

First, figure out who taught him language.

That was what intrigued me the most.

To have taught wild gorillas both human speech and martial arts, that person had to have been an expert of extraordinary pedigree. By tracing that thread, I might discover why they had entered this forest in the first place and what their story was.

I should ask the Heavenly Demon.

Casual survival tips were fine in Korean, but for serious inquiries like this, Central Plains script was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠essential. Flawless communication was the only way to uncover the deeper background.

While Ggobongi finished up his last cut, I asked the Heavenly Demon to draft a written questionnaire in the Zhongyuan language.

Thanks to the Heavenly Demon's assistance, I had a proper questionnaire ready in hand.

Right on cue, Ggobongi finished the timber and shambled over toward me. Despite having performed hours of grueling manual labor, he wasn't sweating a drop, completely unbothered.

"Ggobongi. Look at this."

"?"

When I held up the paper, Ggobongi's brow furrowed in confusion.

Inscribed upon the sheet was a direct inquiry: Who was the master that taught you human speech and martial arts?

Squinting his crimson eyes into narrow slits, he thrust his snout forward. With his terrible albinism-induced eyesight, he had no choice but to press his face practically against the page.

"Huo au..."

Having read the characters, Ggobongi opened his maw as if to bark something, only to freeze dead in his tracks.

He seemed on the verge of snarling Why should I tell you? before thinking better of it.

On top of that, his eyes nervously darted toward Ppareumbo.

It was clear as day now. He had definitely tried something while I was away, picked a fight with Ppareumbo, and suffered a terrifying disciplinary lesson.

After a moment of visible hesitation, Ggobongi finally parted his lips.

"Wi Ho-chang."

"Wi Ho-chang?"

When I repeated the name, Ggobongi gave a solemn nod.

Naturally, I had no idea who on earth that was. But the Heavenly Demon likely would.

It's Wi Ho-chang, right? Usually, Zhongyuan names correspond phonetically.

If the pronunciation was off, I could simply consult the Heavenly Demon again. Anticipating just such a scenario, I had already recorded a video of him speaking the name, so there wouldn't be any issue.

Before bringing the name to the general Gallery, I sent a private inquiry to the Heavenly Demon to ask who Wi Ho-chang was.

An Overlord. Sounds pretty badass.

The Blood Demon.

I knew it was a legendary title that constantly cropped up alongside the Heavenly Demon in classic wuxia lore. Even as someone who barely knew anything about martial arts fiction, I recognized the general weight of such names.

Usually portrayed as someone even more unhinged than the Heavenly Demon.

With that thought in mind, I drafted and uploaded a quick post to the Gallery.

A flood of completely unhinged reactions erupted across the thread.