Harmless Animals (3)

The post blew up across the Gallery exactly as I anticipated. Seeing the upvotes skyrocket at an exponential rate, it was clear that virtually every active user across the dimensions was tuning in.

The Juddak must have noticed the escalating chaos, promptly pinging me with a warning. A video showing a flopping, broken jaw was already teetering on the edge of gore, but she let it slide this once considering the historical significance.

Closing the interface, I took stock of my surroundings. The cleanup around the clearing was thoroughly finished. Looking down at the five carcasses—creatures Starlight Princess presumed to be raptors—I made up my mind.

I'll send one each to Allfather and Starlight Princess.

That left three. The question was how best to handle them. Storing them in the deep freeze was an obvious first step, but I fully planned on butchering at least one with my own hands. To keep the meat from spoiling, I had to stop the blood gushing from their severed necks. Gathering frost qi at my fingertips, I hastily froze the severed stumps shut and stuffed the massive reptiles into my sub-space dimensional pack.

Since we couldn't butcher apex predators right in front of the sacred World Tree sapling, we had no choice but to head back to the shelter. Trudging along the trail, my mind wandered.

If these things exist, does that mean other dinosaurs roam the deeper sectors?

Triceratops, Brachiosaurus, and who knew what else. There was a very real possibility that a Tyrannosaurus rex stomped somewhere ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠beyond the tree line. What absurd supernatural abilities would monsters like that wield? Raptors possessed optical camouflage to suit their role as pack hunters; what would massive, heavyweight bruisers carry? I felt a twinge of morbid curiosity, though I had zero desire to throw away my life tracking them down.

"What is it?" I asked.

Cain had kept quiet during the frantic ambush, but he seemed to have organized his thoughts now that we were walking safely down the path.

"Right."

"Hmm..."

He had a point. The Gallery hadn't thrown a collective fit over nothing; this evolutionary path completely overturned established biological doctrine. Then again, Ggobongi and his gorilla kin had evolved almost into humans.

"I mean, we've already got a sloth that breaks the sound barrier and a kangaroo hosting underground fight clubs," I pointed out. "Is an invisible dinosaur really that much stranger?"

"You're better off treating this entire forest as an exception," I continued. "Hell, take me, for instance. I couldn't channel a single drop of mana back where I came from. It only started working once I woke up here."

Ah. Come to think of it, Cain never knew.

As we walked, I gave him a brief rundown of my origins. I told him I was an ordinary man cast adrift from an entirely different world, born with a physique fundamentally incapable of processing magical energy. Yet, through whatever anomalous influence this forest exerted, I had somehow become able to manipulate mana.

"Understand what?"

"..."

I let out a dry chuckle. There really was no better term to describe me. Still, at least I wasn't destructive enough to collapse the local ecology. Invasive species usually ran rampant and tore habitats apart.

Wait. Am I already throwing things into chaos?

The entire outside world was convulsing because of the items I shoveled into the Gallery. Viewed through that lens, an invasive species was an uncomfortably accurate moniker.

While I brooded over my existential taxonomy, Cain turned toward Ludwig and spoke. Judging by the cadence, he was asking whether the paladin had already known about my background.

"#%^%^," Ludwig grunted in his foreign tongue, gesturing with a stoic shrug.

"What'd he say?"

"I'll take that as a compliment," I muttered. "For the record, that giraffe he rides was a native animal where I came from, too."

The invasive species debate wrapped up shortly thereafter. Native, alien, or whatever else—survival in this forest trumped philosophical labels every single time.

Upon arriving back at the shelter, we got straight to work. The primary objective was flaying the hides.

I'll send the leather to the dwarf.

He would be able to determine whether the optical camouflage resided in the scales themselves or stemmed from an internal biological organ. Ludwig and I took charge of the butchering. Having spent years surviving in harsh combat zones, the veteran paladin was remarkably adept at field dressing game. Ggobongi's massive paws were ill-suited for delicate incisions, so I kept him away from the pelts.

Man, their skull structure makes peeling the head leather a real pain.

It was arduous labor, but we eventually managed to cleanly peel the hides from two of the beasts. A third carcass was earmarked to be sold intact on the auction block.

Now to bleed the meat.

The internal organs could either be dumped or put up for bidding. Given that even a single intact dinosaur bone would command a small fortune out there, the viscera would likely fetch a staggering price. While the carcasses hung to bleed out, I reached out to my designated buyers.

Even the usually unflappable arch-scholar was so rattled with excitement that he butchered his typing. I sent a quick disclaimer warning him that the carcass was smeared with blue plant dye used to counter its stealth. Naturally, Allfather couldn't have cared less. He merely showered me with thanks for the opportunity to study it.

After accepting the bundle of golden restorative draughts from the princess, I posted the third intact raptor onto the continental auction house, attaching a casual thread reminding the gallery crowd to bid nicely.

Part of me wants to auction every single organ separately, but...

I didn't have the patience, and rummaging barehanded through alien intestines was a bridge too far. Besides, the remaining two dinosaurs yielded an enormous bounty of meat; each beast was roughly three meters long with dense, heavy muscle mass.

Suspending the two skinned carcasses upside down from sturdy wooden crossbeams, Ludwig and I methodically carved into them.

"Not a clue," I admitted.

I had butchered wild boars, mountain goats, and even the occasional tiger, but paleolithic carnivores were uncharted territory. People occasionally ate tiger meat when a man-eater was hunted down, but dinosaurs? I was almost certainly the first human being in recorded history to carve a raptor into culinary cuts.

They walked on powerful two-legged stances, so the hindquarters ought to have the most meat, right?

Unless it was pure, unyielding gristle, in which case it would chew like tire tread.

"$%%^^^," Ludwig grumbled under his breath, sawing through a thick joint.

"'Never thought I'd live to butcher a dinosaur'? Yeah, tell me about it," I replied with a wry grin.

After a grueling session of jointing and trimming, we separated the harvest into organized cuts. As expected, the hind legs yielded the lion's share of red meat; their pelvic girdles and thighs were heavily developed to counterbalance their rigid, whip-like tails. The most shocking cut, however, was the neck. The sinew and muscle fibers were obscenely tough—so dense that my steel hunting knife dragged through it like dry leather. I had known their necks were thick, but this was practically inedible boot leather.

"Alright. Now that it's carved up..."

I picked out a relatively tender-looking strip from the upper back—the dinosaur equivalent of a pork loin—intending to run a quick test.

"Kkyuuu..."

"Ppiii..."

Seeing the glistening mounds of fresh meat, Wonmo and Tyrano bounded over, their eyes gleaming like twin pairs of lanterns. They fixated on the pile with rapt attention, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ready to pounce the second I gave the green light.

"Hold your horses," I warned, gently nudging their snouts back. "Not yet. I need to test how it tastes first."

"Then we make it taste good."

Setting aside the rock-hard neck meat, I intended to utilize everything else. Our household devoured food at an alarming rate; tossing out edible protein was an unthinkable luxury. Moreover, eating raw dinosaur meat carried a horrific risk of ancient parasites or zoonotic pathogens. Cooking it thoroughly over intense heat was mandatory.

Sizzleee—!

Rather than dirtying a pan, I skewered the thick cut onto the tip of my dagger and held it directly over the crackling campfire. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠As golden fat dripped into the embers with sharp pops, the searing meat took on a surprisingly appetizing crust.

"Phew... phew."

Blowing gently against the smoking skewer to cool it down, I inspected the meat to ensure no raw spots remained, then sank my teeth into the crust.

Squish—

My jaw met tremendous resistance. It was undeniably tough, like an aggressively lean cut of overcooked game. Yet it wasn't completely impossible to masticate; with a firm bite, a chunk tore free. Rich, savory juices burst across my tongue. For a split second, it tasted incredible—until...

"Cough?!"

A foul, pungent musk slammed into the back of my throat. The gamey reek was overwhelming—far ranker than the wild tiger I had sampled weeks ago. I had a remarkably resilient stomach and rarely cared about mild gamey odors, but this hit like an olfactory sledgehammer.

"$%%?" Ludwig asked, raising an eyebrow at my contorted face.

"I-It's edible," I wheezed, clearing my throat. "But it definitely requires aggressive preparation before we can serve it."

If we could strip out that pervasive musk and break down the tough fibers, it would make perfectly acceptable sustenance.

A long marinade should do the trick. But what cuts through an odor this foul?

Red wine was the undisputed king of game marinades. Living alone and cooking my own meals back on Earth had taught me that much. Normal beef or pork could get away with simple saltwater brines, but a primordial wild carnivore demanded alcohol and tannins to tame the stench.

Time to call the dwarf.

I needed to deliver the hides anyway, so I could ask for a trade at the same time. Sorting out the portions meant for dinner, I packed the rest of the butchered cuts into the meat shed's freezer boxes.

A quintessential dwarven response. I had anticipated that grumbling.

Flattered by the compliment, the dwarf immediately set up a private trade window. I slotted the folded reptilian hides into the exchange tray and typed my message.

Naturally, I intended to send ordinary acorn jelly—not the apocalyptic Golden Acorn Jelly that turned our camp into a toxic sauna. Having lived through that black sludge ordeal once, I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

Completing the transaction, I pulled the bottles from the retrieval box. I had only asked for a single jug, but the generous bastard had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sent three entire bottles of deep, oak-aged dwarven vintage.

All that remained was trimming the cuts and letting them steep in wine until dinner. Lunch could be cobbled together from leftovers.

Speaking of which, how's the auction doing?

Curiosity getting the better of me, I refreshed the live bidding board. Word of the dinosaur kill had spread across the entire dimensional network, so the price was bound to be...

"Whoa."

Fifteen thousand gold already. Converted to modern Korean won, that was easily around one hundred and fifty million won. With hours still left on the clock, the bidding war would only grow bloodier. Financial security was guaranteed for the foreseeable future.

"Kkyuu! Kkyuuu!"

"Ppiiiieeeek!"

"Alright, alright! I hear you."

Prying Wonmo and Tyrano off my pant legs as they attempted to scale my hips like tree trunks, I chuckled and headed toward the pantry to fetch their meal.

While Grylls peacefully chopped vegetables and fed his eccentric brood of beast companions inside the forest sanctuary...

"Give me the treasury funds! Transfer them right now, I need to top up my balance!"

"Aaaaagh! Who the hell just outbid me again?!"

"Do not let this slip through our fingers! We cannot afford to lose this under any circumstances! It is a relic of prehistory that will never appear again in our lifetimes!!!"

Beyond the borders of the forest, a catastrophic tempest had descended upon the continental academic world.