#7 I Inherited You.
Animals and monsters weren't all that different. Ever since monsters started appearing, Earth's flora and fauna had undergone changes so drastic it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it a great upheaval of species. Monsters had naturally seeped into those niches. Nowadays, some plants and animals existed only in textbooks as relics of the past. Common livestock like chickens, pigs, cows, and horses had become rare sights.
It was only natural. The monsters that probably fell into the vast savannas of South Africa must have cheered like this:
'Buffet!'
* * *
Kang-ho gazed at Seol-a, who seemed to be shouting 'Buffet!' just like that. Should he open the fridge door?
'Buffet!'
He opened it, and her eyes clearly screamed it. Close it? Kkiing... As soon as he did, she drooped, tilting her head slightly. Open it again?
'Buffet!'
What was he to do with this little one staring up at him with sparkling eyes? But he couldn't overfeed a newborn White Fang pup just a day old. Her voracious appetite was just like Seolhwa's. That one had wanted to devour everything in sight, often making him worry with her vomiting or tummy aches after eating whatever caught her eye.
"Seol-a."
Nng!
She understood words remarkably well. Rare species had high intelligence—some far surpassing humans, others on par. Among the religions that sprang up after Daybreak, there were even those who worshipped rare monster species as gods.
Kang-ho placed Seol-a on his shoulder, opened the door, and stepped outside. Seeing the snow-blanketed world, Seol-a hopped down into the garden bed covered in white.
Kkiing! Nng! Nng!
She seemed delighted by the fat snowflakes falling from the sky, bounding around and flipping somersaults in the air. Full of curiosity, she darted here and there, exploring. She circled the fence, sniffing intently, then peeked into the chicken coop, boldly strutting despite being less than a day old.
The baby Thunderbirds dozing in the coop took interest in Seol-a.
Kkat-kkat-kkat!
The chicks chirped at her, and Seol-a chirped back with nng-nng sounds. Thrilled to meet another living creature, she perked her tail straight up, ears twitching, eyes wide with curiosity.
Kkat-kkat-kkat!
Nng-nng-nng!
They exchanged cries back and forth for a while, then both species tilted their heads in unison.
"......"
Of course. They couldn't communicate. But the baby Thunderbirds instinctively recognized Seol-a as one of their own chicks. They spread their wings wide to her.
Kkat-kkat-kkat!
As if asking why she didn't have any. Seol-a spread her front paws wide—then tumbled forward.
Kkiing! Kkiing!
She tilted her head too. Kang-ho peered into the coop. The two species, exhausted from their failed conversation, were tilting their heads again. Soon, Seol-a left the coop and resumed running. She zipped around the garden in circles, hopping and leaping as if celebrating her birth into this world. Then she flopped onto her back, gazing up at the white snowflakes tumbling from the sky.
Kang-ho smiled faintly and headed to the shed. He selected the tenderest hunk of meat hanging there for today's meal. The long cut resembled some creature's leg—skinned only at the thigh, dangling limply. It was the hind leg of a Pixie Frog. Those were like giant omnivorous frogs, and their hind legs were a delicacy: tender and easy to digest.
He minced and stir-fried it, then offered it to Seol-a. She sniffed it—kkim-kkim-kkim—and her eyes went wide.
Kkiing! Kkiing!
As if wondering how he'd made something so amazing, she devoured the stir-fried hind leg meat. Her eyes sparkled with delight—it was delicious.
'Her appetite's the same too.'
Suddenly—
Kkek-kkek-kkek!
Seol-a coughed. Kang-ho deftly scooped her up, cradling her and patting her back.
Kkek!
A chunk of meat flew out with the cough. Soon, she was fine again and resumed eating.
'Raising one before made me pretty good at this.'
Feeling oddly proud of himself, Kang-ho chuckled. Baby White Fangs had insane energy. They didn't know how to just walk—their basic movement was jumping. They preferred somersaults mid-air over sitting still; weirdos.
Kang-ho left Seol-a to play in front of the house. Suddenly, she stared beyond the fence, then—as if making a big decision—leaped over it.
"Ah."
Kang-ho reached out but paused. Seol-a had dashed into the snowy expanse.
"Ah..."
Moments later—
Tatata-tatata!
She came racing back from afar. Glancing behind her to show off, she vaulted the fence and landed neatly on Kang-ho's shoulder.
"......"
A horde of ice fairies trailed behind her. Hundreds, perhaps, chattering in their own tongue, kkung-eol-kkung-eol, as they eyed Kang-ho.
Seol-a hopped onto his palm, staring up smugly. She glanced back, then at him again.
'Friends.'
That was how she saw the ice fairies. She turned, facing the crowd, and opened her mouth.
Kkiing-kkiing-kkiing— Nng-nng-nng! Nng~
The packed ice fairies watched intently. Then they all tilted their heads in unison.
"......"
Nng-nng! Nng! Nng!
Seol-a tried again, but the fairies propped their chins, then tilted their heads. Watching the standoff, Kang-ho chuckled again.
The old Seolhwa had been quiet and reserved, with little social inclination. But this child was different.
'Yeah.'
Right.
'She's not Seolhwa.'
This one wasn't Seolhwa. Even though she'd hatched from Seolhwa's egg, even though she saw Kang-ho as family.
'She's Seol-a.'
Kang-ho stroked her head, set her down, and entered the shed. With all these ice fairies she'd brought, he figured he'd give them something to send them off. He grabbed a large glass jar from the corner and stepped back out—just as Seol-a was passionately chattering to the fairies. No communication, of course.
Kang-ho stood beside her and opened the sugar jar.
Flash!
The ice fairies' faces lit up. This was mash flower pollen—sweeter and more flavorful than sugar. No fairy could resist it. He scooped two spoonfuls and scattered it into the air. The fairies went wild, zipping everywhere, bathing in the pollen with their whole bodies.
Twinkle-twinkle-twinkle!
Light burst from them, weaving ice crystals through the sky.
Nng! Nng!
Seol-a somersaulted, as if that's what she'd wanted. Kang-ho watched her, then quietly extended his hand, activating his Beast Master eye.
Empathy (Inherited) — This beast innately senses all monsters and considers them friends.
Overwhelm (Inherited) — This beast is strong against foes with demonic energy. It subjugates them and absorbs their demonic energy.
Additional skills unlock with growth and learning.
"......"
Question marks? Kang-ho tilted his head. He'd never seen unreadable stats in his Beast Master eye before. Now, cautiously, he checked her skills.
Two innate skills. No others yet, since she was only days old.
'Inherited.'
Passed down from Seolhwa, her "parent." But Seolhwa hadn't been sociable by nature—she'd grown that way alongside Kang-ho. What Seolhwa had learned growing up with him had carried over to this child.
And...
'Demonic energy...'
Demonic energy was the power of the monsters he'd fought before. The black aura that destroyed reason and amplified instincts.
"......"
Kang-ho's heart ached faintly. He stood quietly, watching Seol-a.
'Hwa-ya.'
Nng-nng! Nng!
'You're gone, but your child inherited you.'
He stroked her head with a deeply moved expression.
Yeah. 'Who cares about the stats? Just grow up healthy.'
Suddenly—
Kkiing?
Seol-a's gaze lifted to the sky.
'Hm?'
Kang-ho looked up too. He sensed an unfamiliar monster aura. Far in the sky, a flock of black birds flew in formation.
He stared at them impassively.
'New species.'
It was migration season, but these were unlike any he'd seen.
Kiiiiiit—!
As if waiting, two Thunderbirds shot up from the horizon. Furball ruled the ground around here, but these two owned the skies.
The flock panicked at their approach, scattering chaotically.
Kaaaah—
The Thunderbirds pressed aggressively, as if teaching the insolent flock a lesson. They stirred winds with massive wings and bellowed thunderous cries.
Kkit! Kkit-kit!
The baby Thunderbirds burst from the coop, hopping excitedly at their parents' cool display.
Kang-ho clapped once, quietly.
"Alright, that's enough."
The two Thunderbirds herded the flock down to the ground. Flap-flap-flap— They folded their enormous wings, glaring ferociously, while the birds huddled guiltily.
Kang-ho examined one.
Jet-black plumage, long tail streaming back. Claws on the wings like fingers. A normal bird face, but with chicken-like feathers.
He scanned it carefully with his Beast Master eye.
'Wind Peng?'
Another unheard-of monster.
"Hmm..."
Kang-ho studied the Wind Pengs for a long moment, then nodded.
"Go on."
The Wind Pengs rolled their eyes nervously, then flapped away into the distant sky.
'New species are popping up one after another.'
King-king! Kiiing!
He glanced at Seol-a. She seemed fiercely competitive toward the new Thunderbirds.
"......"
The two Thunderbirds just tilted their heads, as if wondering if the runt had lost her mind.
"Don't get cocky, kid."
As the Thunderbirds nuzzled their chicks, cooing various cries, Kang-ho scooped up Seol-a and headed inside. He sat on the bed, pulling out the smartphone the junior officer had brought, checking videos.
Kang-ho mulled over various thoughts. He left the house as the sun set and the moon rose.
. . . . . .
Seoul, Gangnam.
Even deep into night, Seoul's nights burned brighter than day. With magic stone tech advancing rapidly—surpassing the old world in some ways—the heart of the city pulsed.
The tallest building there was called Mercenary Tower—headquarters of the Mercenary Guild, one of Korea's Big 3 guilds.
Modern guilds functioned like the old conglomerates. Full-fledged corporations now, leveraging Awakeners for business.
Atop Mercenary Tower, Awakener Yoon Jung-woo yawned lazily.
'Night guard again today.'
The tower bristled with vigilant sentries. Even in this advanced age, post-Daybreak was a world of the strong devouring the weak. Awakeners turned powerless before overwhelming might. It was also prep for unpredictable gates.
Probably.
Yoon Jung-woo's hope for another uneventful day began derailing right then.
'What the—?'
Ahead, far off—something massive, like a shadow, settled atop a distant building. House-sized, he guessed. Color? White, maybe? On closer look, a giant furball was moving.
Shh—shh-shh—
Running across the rooftop. Without a single footstep—like a ghost.
Shh-shh—shh-shh-shh—
Heading this way.
'What the hell is that?'