Take It Off
After joining Jamryong and settling in, I started dropping by the hideout regularly, learning how to speak and fight under Diana's guidance. Thanks to her, I no longer had to scratch messages into walls with my claws—I could now manage awkward, mumbled words. I'd originally planned to focus only on speech, but at Hwang Yerang's urging, I ended up sparring with Diana often and picking up all sorts of advice. She teased that since I'd earned a moniker myself, I needed to learn to protect my own body, but honestly, it felt like she was just trying to throw me and Diana together. God, why was she so desperate to play matchmaker?
By the way, this was already my umpteenth visit, but I still hadn't met most of the other members. I'd only run into the gangster-looking guy with the huge facial scar, gold necklace, and flashy suit—Gwak Cheolsu—and the boss, who fit the image of a wise old gentleman perfectly. The surprising part? The boss wasn't an Awakener; he was a regular human. In most villain organizations, the boss was the strongest—that was the unwritten rule—but here it was the opposite. Apparently, the boss had been an executive at the Hero Association before. I didn't get the full story, but he'd left with Hwang Yerang and founded Jamryong. I'd worried my werewolf nature might rub the existing members the wrong way, but thankfully, that wasn't an issue. Hwang Yerang had apparently blabbed all about me beforehand, so everyone already had a rough idea who I was. Even Gwak Cheolsu, with his intimidating vibe, turned out to be surprisingly friendly. Maybe it was just because I was a teammate now. As for the rest, what the hell were they doing that they never showed their faces? I asked Hwang Yerang about the other members, but she just said to save the fun for when we met and refused to spill. I got tired of prying, so I let it go. I'd be visiting often enough; I'd run into them eventually.
"…Guhk."
A punch slammed straight into the gut of my transformed body, my legs buckled, and I crumpled to the floor.
"You okay?"
As I wheezed and gasped for breath, Diana looked down at me with a worried expression.
Today, after finishing my Supporter rounds, I'd swung by the hideout for another spar with her—and here I was, folding after a single punch, flailing like a wimp. Fighting her for real, I realized she was way stronger than I'd imagined. She didn't even use her ability; she overwhelmed me with pure hand-to-hand. I'd recently learned that some werewolves were Awakeners too. Diana was one of them. With a werewolf's insane physical stats on top of an ability? Total bullshit. Her power let her manipulate shadows—hide or teleport through them, or pin enemies by stepping on their shadows to immobilize them. I'd also heard about her moniker: Headhunter. Learning why she'd earned it made her feel a bit scary, if I'm honest.
I asked if I could awaken an ability too, and she said anyone could. Most with talent awakened naturally during puberty, while others did so through sheer survival instinct in extreme situations. So, to awaken mine, I threw myself into high-intensity training every day. A werewolf's biggest weakness? We can only transform at night. During the day, we're just regular folks with slightly better physiques. But if I could awaken an ability? I'd overcome that fatal flaw. That's why I was desperate to make it happen—no matter what. Even if progress was zilch so far.
"Wanna call it here for today?"
"Nah, just a bit more…"
"Okay."
These past few days hanging out had made me drop the formalities with Diana too. She'd been casual with me from the start, but hey, foreigner—whatever. Once the pain subsided, I hauled myself up and got back into stance. She just stood there impassively, but I couldn't spot a single opening. What a monster.
"How much more of a beating are you gonna take? I'm enjoying the show, though."
Hwang Yerang and Seo Chaerim often watched our spars like this. Especially when Diana was mopping the floor with me—Chaerim would smirk like it was the highlight of her day, which pissed me off to no end. Last time, I got so heated I challenged her to a round, but she turned it around, calling me a bully for picking on a "frail civilian." Frail, my ass—she was an Awakener. Still, in the group, she handled intel gathering, not combat, so fighting her would've just screwed me over. I let it slide.
"Huu…"
I steadied my breathing, gradually building power. Even as fellow werewolves, she was an Awakener, so I'd lose any head-on slugfest. Plus, my fight experience was laughably lacking—every trick I tried got shut down effortlessly. Were all White Knights this monstrous? If I didn't get that strong myself, those White Knight bastards might catch me someday. For survival's sake, I threw myself into the spar desperately.
I kicked off the ground and charged. Only then did Diana move. Between werewolves, we could go full throttle without killing each other, so we traded real blows like it was life or death—claws raking, fangs snapping, no holds barred. Minor wounds healed by morning anyway. Bloodstains splattered the entire training ground. All mine, of course. I hadn't landed a solid hit on her. She casually tilted her head to dodge my full-power haymaker. I pressed with claws out, trying to grapple, but she slipped away, creating distance. Damn it. Can't even graze her. I ditched pride, dropped to all fours, and circled her wildly—but she booted me flying. The gut kick sent bile surging up, sour in my mouth.
"You're hitting your limit. Let's stop."
As Diana turned and strode off, I dragged myself up and lunged from behind. Screw fair play—what's "fair" in a fight? But her fist, whipping back around, met my face—and my consciousness cut out.
Warm sunlight hit my eyes; I grimaced and squirmed. As my deep fog of unconsciousness lifted, pain wracking my body snapped me awake. …Unfamiliar ceiling. Where the hell…?
With a weird vibe, I shuffled out of the room to the living room. There was Hwang Yerang, sprawled on the sofa, scratching her belly while watching TV. Why did she always act like such a damn uncle?
"Oh, you're up?"
"Did I sleep here?"
The hideout was all women, so no matter how wiped I was, I'd always crash at home. So why'd I stay here today? No memory of what happened before passing out.
"You got knocked out by her during sparring yesterday and conked right out. Don't remember?"
"…Did I?"
Her words jogged it loose—the moments before blackout resurfaced. I'd pushed harder than usual and must've been more exhausted than I thought; I'd slept straight through to morning in that state.
"Wait. Who put clothes on me?"
Sudden realization. Knocked out meant transformation undone—naked. But I was dressed now. Which meant Hwang Yerang, Seo Chaerim, or Diana had done it.
Oh. Shit.
"Heh heh~ Who knows? Guess you'll never know~"
Hwang Yerang grinned slyly, teasing me. This crazy bitch. What a clusterfuck. Humiliation shook me to my core. Should I just quit and bail? I seriously considered bailing on the group.
"Kidding. Chaerim did it."
"That's the worst one!"
Of all people, Seo Chaerim. She'd lord it over me forever—I might die of shame. As I freaked, she quickly added,
"Whoa, calm down, oppa. Yeah, Chaerim did it, but technically, she had her monsters do it."
"…For real?"
"For real real."
Could I trust Hwang Yerang? Sketchy as hell, but for my sake, I'd pretend. As I brainwashed myself into acceptance, Seo Chaerim walked into the living room.
"Always such a drama queen. It's not like it wears out—what's the big deal about showing it?"
"Strip."
"What? Are you nuts?!"
"You said it doesn't wear out, right? Hurry up and strip. Can't let me be the only one exposed."
"I went out of my way to be nice, and this is the thanks I get?! Stay back! I'll kill you, you perv!"
As I closed in on Seo Chaerim, she bolted in panic. Hwang Yerang cackled, spectating the chase. Somehow, I was settling into life here.