The Owlbear (2)

No matter the species, all animals are adorable as babies.

There was even a popular saying that they evolved that very cuteness to appeal to predators' pity just to survive. Regardless of how ferocious a beast might become as an adult, the young almost always radiate a fatally disarming charm.

"Kyu?"

Just like the baby owlbear sitting right in front of me.

It merely tilted its head to the side, yet my heart took a direct ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠critical hit. If I had to describe this little creature, there was really only one way to put it: a visibly fluffy ball of fur, staring up at me with huge, saucer-round eyes. While the adult owlbear's face had practically reeked of primordial savagery, its cub looked innocent and utterly harmless.

Still, this was the wild. Even with the bloodline of an apex predator, a newborn cub would hardly stand a chance of surviving out here on its own.

So what was I supposed to do right now?

"Here, boy. Tch-tch-tch. Come here, little guy."

"Kyuu."

What else could I do? Obviously, pet it.

When I beckoned with a crook of my finger, the cub cocked its head before padding toward me at a cautious, plodding amble. It then buried its snout straight into my hand, sniffing away with an animal's natural curiosity. While it was preoccupied with taking in my scent, I gently raised my other hand.

Stroke, stroke.

"Kyuung?"

It was the sacred head pat—a luxury four-legged creatures could never bestow upon themselves. Experiencing the sensation for the first time in its brief life, the baby owlbear's eyes widened into perfect circles as it gazed up at me.

Between those impossibly round eyes and the feathery crest sprouting from the top of its head like a horned owl, it was an overwhelming display of charm. How could a creature be this cute? Sized roughly like a medium-sized dog, it didn't feel threatening in the slightest.

"Purr... purr..."

Evidently loving the caress, the owlbear closed its eyes and let out a peculiar, rumbling coo. Chuckling softly, I kept rubbing its ears with one hand while discreetly accessing the Gallery with the other.

The reception toward the baby owlbear was overwhelmingly positive. It wasn't surprising ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the least; anyone with a pulse would have melted into a puddle at the sight of this little fluffball. Yet, nature was inherently merciless, and a pragmatic voice soon surfaced in the thread.

I glanced up from my screen down at the owlbear. It was happily rubbing its snout against my knuckles, clearly enthralled by my touch. Seeing that innocent behavior dissolved the gloomy knot in my chest, but reality remained reality: this was a wild beast. Owlbears possessed ravenous appetites, and incidents where they turned on their handlers weren't uncommon.

"Kyuuung. Kyuung."

Could something this small and tender really do that? I looked down with a heavy heart. Coldly speaking, putting it out of its misery right here was the only way to avoid trouble down the road. Some might ask why I couldn't just raise it, but I was already struggling to keep my own head above water. If even wealthy nobles struggled to keep them satiated, how was I supposed to manage?

Buying feed from the Auction House isn't cheap either.

If food was that easy to come by, I would have treated myself to a feast every night by now. It was deeply regrettable, but my hands were tied. Even so, slaughtering a helpless cub in cold blood left a foul taste in my mouth. Releasing it back into the forest seemed like the far better choice.

How much gold did I actually have left? Let's see. Thanks to the massive lump sum I received from Allfather previously, my finances were quite comfortable. Yet raising an animal was a bottomless money pit. This wasn't a puppy or a kitten; it was a bear that would eventually grow to the size of a hill. Even if it was small now, its appetite would quickly spiral out of control.

That comment struck a surprisingly persuasive chord. I stared down at the owlbear once more. When this adorable fluffball matured, it would become an unstoppable apex juggernaut. Moreover, so long as its stomach stayed full, its loyalty would remain unshakeable.

...And besides, I'm lonely.

The Gallery provided communication, sure, but reading text on a screen could never compare to the physical presence of a living, breathing companion. I met the cub's curious, unblinking gaze. Employing this fellow as an escort knight wasn't a bad proposition at all. If gold ran dry, I could always dig up mandrakes or hunt golden poison frogs to balance the books.

Wait, what does a cub even eat?

Bears were opportunistic omnivores known to consume everything down to rotting carrion, but an owlbear was a fantastical hybrid. To confirm its dietary needs, I typed out a quick query.

Honey it was. I opened the Auction House interface and began browsing through the listings, carefully examining customer reviews just in case. One vendor claimed to be a third-generation apiary from an agricultural world, and their verification method was downright hilarious:

Proof didn't get any more authentic than that. Without further hesitation, I purchased two jars of wild honey and a large wooden serving spoon. Scooping out a generous glob of rich, golden syrup, I brought it down toward the cub.

"Kyuu?"

"Go ahead. Taste it. It's delicious."

"Sniff, sniff."

Having never seen anything like it, the cub shrank back warily. Drops of amber sweetness threatened to roll off the edge of the spoon, making me inwardly cringe at the waste. Fortunately, the cub's keen sense of smell soon kicked in. Detecting the irresistible floral nectar, its beak opened wide.

Chomp.

"Good, isn't it?"

"..."

The cub froze mid-chew, as if an electric current had shot through its tiny nervous system.

"KYUUUUUU!"

"W-Whoa!"

"KYUAAAAA!"

Unleashing a series of hysterical, rapturous squeals, the cub lunged forward and began devouring the honey with frantic abandon. Startled, I set the entire jar down on the dirt floor and scrambled back a couple of paces.

Slurp! Lick! Gulp, gulp!

"..."

Man, was it packing it away. It was fascinating to watch a surprisingly long, pink tongue whip out from that stubby beak, lapping at the glass with dizzying speed. The cub had completely surrendered its soul to the sugary bliss of its very first treat.

I didn't even get a taste for myself. I should've taken a spoonful first.

Regardless, it was clearly a hit. At this rate, cleaning out the whole jar would keep it busy for a while.

Now then, what should I name him?

I had decided to raise him for both my physical security and mental sanity. While I had never kept a pet back on Earth, I knew that picking a proper name was foundational to bonding.

He's a fluffy little hairball... so maybe 'Bokseul'?

It sounded rather plain, but few names fit a ball of fluff better. Asking the Gallery for name suggestions seemed like a terrible idea; knowing those degenerate netizens, they would probably suggest some grotesque abomination.

"Hey, Bokseul."

Slurp, slurp!

"Bokseul-ah?"

Lick, lick!

It didn't even twitch an ear, completely glued to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the honey jar. Well, once the name was set, I could train him gradually. Before that, though, I needed to upload some photos. How could anyone resist showing off a creature this cute?

Seeing his question, I quietly crept behind the feeding cub and lifted its tail to inspect the area underneath. Two small, unmistakably round balls peeked through the fur. Without a shadow of a doubt, it was a male. There was no method more definitive than this.

I shook my head at the screen. Look at this chaos; every weird hybrid idea was crawling out of the woodwork. Rather than listening to these gallery degenerates, sticking with Bokseul seemed infinitely saner. Unfortunately, the forum hivemind had zero intention of letting the matter rest.

I was rendered utterly speechless. I was the one feeding and sheltering the beast, so by what right were they holding an unauthorized referendum? Then again, these were Gallery users—people who treated others' opinions like background static. Naturally, my protest was completely ignored, and an official poll thread went live.

What a damned mess.

Framed like this, how could I possibly name him anything other than Wonmo? Heavenly Demon had sent me life-saving martial manuals, internal energy guidance, and high-tier remedies. Turning down her earnest suggestion over something as trivial as a pet's name would make me an ungrateful bastard.

I rubbed my temples and let out a long, defeated sigh. What in the world was wrong with this forum?

Still... is Wonmo really that terrible?

Wonmo.

It sounded like the name of an old farmer from a remote countryside village. It reeked of earthiness, borderline goofy. Yet at the very least, it wasn't something like Dolswoi or Gae-ddong. Then again, maybe Dolswoi would have had more rustic grit? I honestly couldn't tell anymore.

Glancing down at the cub, who was still enthusiastically scouring the empty honey jar, I decided to test the waters.

"Wonmo-ya."

"Kyu?"

...Wait, what? You didn't even twitch an ear when I shouted Bokseul five seconds ago!

Why did you instantly perk up at Wonmo?!

I stared in complete disbelief at the cub—now officially christened Wonmo. Meeting those wide, innocent eyes, a strange, warm tranquility settled over my chest.

Ah, screw it. What does a name matter anyway?

I crouched down close. Thick, golden honey clung to the corners of his beak. Reaching out, I rubbed his crown, making sure to imprint the sound firmly into his memory.

"From this day forward, your name is Wonmo. Understood?"

"Kyu!"

Wonmo let out a bright, cheerful cry, his beak curving into what looked suspiciously like a delighted grin.

Why did he like it so much?

Meanwhile, across the dimensional divide.

"Fufu."

The Heavenly Demon, Yu Sowol, smiled behind her silk veil with uncharacteristic satisfaction. The name she had personally put forward, Wonmo, had officially been chosen for the young owlbear.

Even now, the Gallery was in an uproar, with users clamoring for more updates and pictures of Wonmo. It was clear evidence of just how influential the little beast's debut had been. How could she not feel proud?

To receive such fervent admiration from the entire Gallery... Grylls must be ecstatic as well.

Had Grylls been present to hear her thoughts, he would have foamed at the mouth on the spot.