The Fox's Den

A fox was staring blankly in our direction.

It wasn't a reflection in a mirror or on the water. Unlike me, whose coat called to mind a field of golden wheat, this one wore a pelt of bright brown. It was a forest fox — the kind that started showing up the closer you got to the heart of Lucifen Forest. Levels 12 to 14, which put them on the high side for a beginner hunting ground.

The one in front of us was level 13. At this point, though, it wasn't a particularly difficult monster for Yeon and me.

The long night had barely ended and morning had barely broken before we headed straight into the forest, throwing ourselves into the hunt with everything our rest had given us. The result sat in the party status window hovering in the corner of my vision.

Honestly, at this level you could throw together a decent party and take down the boss in the deepest part of the forest. That assumed everyone had a decent combat sense and the person calling the shots was smart — but still, that was about where we stood. On top of that, the Ogle's Masterpiece Set Yeon was wearing was quasi-Named gear. She could handle same-level monsters without breaking a sweat, and even ones several ranks above. I couldn't equip anything, of course, so that wasn't an option for me. Still, I'd gotten used to using this body. I could cover at least one or two ranks above my level.

Which meant the fox in front of us was something Yeon and I could put down in an instant. So why were we just standing here, letting it gawk at us like an idiot?

"Ngyaaaah—!"

"Choco, no."

Because this damn girl had a hold of me and would not let go. I thrashed and twisted, letting out an unholy shriek, but Yeon didn't budge an inch. She scolded me in a deliberately stern voice.

"Friends aren't supposed to fight."

Our fur isn't even the same color — who said we were friends? I was so incredulous I stopped struggling and stared at her. She seemed to take that as compliance, because she reached up and started stroking my head.

"Good girl, good girl—"

"Haaak—!"

So now I was being treated like a dog. I irritably nipped at the hand petting me, but Yeon only smiled — a beatific, infinitely understanding smile. I'd rather die than suffer this. I finally gave up and went limp, and the petting continued, accompanied by a soft little laugh.

This wasn't even the first time. Once hunting forest snakes had started getting easy, we'd headed straight for the heart of the forest and immediately run into forest foxes. Naturally, I'd charged in without hesitation to take them out — but Yeon had caught me and scooped me up before I could.

"No! Foxes should get along with other foxes!"

That's what she said, anyway. What she really meant was that the foxes were cute and she didn't want to kill them. She'd gotten bitten the last time she said something like that out loud, so she was dressing it up — but the dressed-up version wasn't any more convincing. Same foxes? How many foxes out there can write letters in the dirt? I thought that to myself as I watched the fox vanish into the underbrush, looking for all the world like it had seen enough.

"Ah— it got away. Oh."

At that disappointed mutter, I twisted hard and wriggled out of her arms. Then I looked up and glared at her. She couldn't quite meet my eyes the way she usually did, glancing aside — she clearly felt a little guilty.

Yeah. The fact that we'd made it this far without incident was a miracle in itself. I let out a long internal sigh.

It might have been a stereotype, but generally speaking, female players had a hard time killing monsters that looked like animals. Especially familiar ones, or cute ones. That was why they usually pushed through the early game with a male player they'd started with, or a same-gender friend who just didn't care about that kind of thing. Those monsters only showed up in the early game anyway, or in certain special situations.

If Yeon had been that kind of player, the hunting would have ground to a halt at the rabbits. Thankfully, it wasn't that bad. If she only went completely soft on foxes, we could just keep grinding forest snakes even if it was less efficient, then skip the boss once we leveled up and head to the next village. We'd miss out on the gear you could craft from the boss, sure — but we already had Ogle's Masterpiece Set, which was several tiers better anyway. So it didn't matter.

But I didn't want to back down like this. Start making exceptions, and there'd come a time later when we'd hit another wall. Better to deal with it now, even if it took a little time. I glanced at Yeon, who was still hunched up and avoiding my gaze, then started scratching letters into the dirt.

"'Hunt foxes,' 'grow'?"

"Keng!"

Yeon, who'd glanced over at the sound of me digging, murmured the words written in the dirt. I pounded my front paws ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the letters for emphasis. I'd gone this far to get my point across — even Yeon would have a hard time ignoring it. So just give up already and let's hunt! I stared at her with that resolve packed into my gaze, and Yeon — who'd somehow ended up crouched down hugging her knees — muttered,

"But do we really need to hunt this hard...?"

"Keng?!"

Those words made my fur stand on end. Whether she understood how I felt or not, Yeon spoke in a daze, like someone who'd hit burnout.

"We've already been hunting for two hours straight... I'm starting to get tired..."

It's only been two hours! I wanted to shout that, but if I actually did, Yeon might quit the game entirely. And honestly, she looked exactly like someone who'd been playing too long and hit that drained, empty state. I'd felt that plenty of times myself. I understood.

That state where you start thinking, Do I even need to try this hard...? It's not like I particularly wanted to do this anyway — and then all your motivation just evaporates. I always came back because I had nothing else. Yeon was different. She'd been logged in all day on account of school vacation or whatever, but there was nothing stopping her from just going back to reality whenever she felt like it. Or quitting altogether.

If Yeon quit, I'd actually have more freedom of movement, so it wouldn't be all bad for me. The problem was something else. Even if she stopped logging in, as long as she didn't delete her character, this taming status would last forever. I'd have to scrape by on half-cut experience? Unable to take quests or join parties?

I'd always hunted solo, sure, but even I partied up when I needed to. In this body, I clearly wouldn't even be able to do that. It would take way too long. Without Yeon, I'd be stuck hunting solo, playing it safe enough not to die — and even then, it would take forever.

The solution was simple enough. I knew exactly what Yeon liked, and I knew how to give it to her. The catch was that I might die of humiliation in the process. But a brief moment of shame was more efficient ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠than Yeon quitting and leaving me to suffer. Emotions were volatile things, after all. They'd fade. They would... definitely fade... I squeezed my eyes shut, let out a long breath, and looked at Yeon with resolve in my eyes.

She was still crouched down, hugging her knees. I took a step, closing the already-short distance between us. Then I butted my head against her.

"Choco...?"

Yeon called my name in a puzzled voice, but I didn't hear it. I was too busy concentrating on my self-hypnosis.

I am a dog. A loyal dog. Acting cute to comfort my owner who's in a bad mood— damn it. My face twisted for a second like I'd bitten into something foul, but I shook my head and refocused.

I am a dog. I am a dog... I kept thinking that as I rubbed against her, and she seemed to cheer up a little, because she started stroking my head. So I slowly let my body collapse, then flopped onto my back on the ground. Belly fully exposed.

A beast exposing its belly was a gesture of submission. Which meant I had, for all intents and purposes, declared that I would yield to Yeon. It was an absolutely horrific thing. I might have been in a fox's body, but inside I was a guy in his twenties...! And that guy had just rolled over and shown his belly to a girl who looked about high-school age, as a sign of submission.

Of course, fully immersed in my role as a dog, I felt no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shame whatsoever. That was the whole point of the self-hypnosis.

"You're so cute..."

She seemed completely cheered up now, laughing softly as she rubbed my belly and the nape of my neck with both hands. I just panted and waited for it to be over. While feeling a strange, filling sense of satisfaction, of all things.

Thanks to my passionate efforts, Yeon perked right back up and got to her feet. She even declared she wouldn't hesitate to hunt anymore, burning with renewed motivation.

However.

"Choco, are you okay?"

"Keng..."

Don't talk to me. I want to die. I sat there looking as pathetic as a dog whose food bowl had been stolen.

The whole point had been to turn Yeon's mood around so we could get back to hunting and growing as fast as possible — so why was I sitting here like this? Simple: I'd hit sage time. The moment Yeon's mood recovered, the self-hypnosis of thinking I was a dog shattered, and the backlash hit me like a truck.

Was I really that desperate that I had to go that far? That thought led to others, all the way to maybe I should just live as a fox for the rest of my life. Every kind of negative thought was occupying my head. But the sadder part was that even through all of that, I'd instinctively noticed an enemy approaching.

A gamer's instincts. I adjusted my slumped posture and looked toward the underbrush that had started rustling. Yeon, for her part, drew the arming sword from her hip as if she had no intention of stopping me this time. She was fully ready to hunt.

What emerged from the bushes was a fox with bright brown fur. I couldn't tell if it was the same one that had disappeared earlier, but the way it froze when it saw us as it came out of the brush made it look like it was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠asking, You're still here? Of course, unlike before, it picked up on the killing intent rising from us and immediately started to run.

"Ah—! It's getting away!"

"Keng!"

This one, and the forest foxes we'd seen before — why did they only run and never attack? I didn't bother hiding my irritation, letting out a roar as I charged in the direction the fox had vanished. I burst through the underbrush like I was going to tear it apart, and there was the fox, looking back at us. The way it immediately started moving somewhere else, as if it had been waiting — my brow twitched on its own.

Don't tell me. Is that thing luring us?