A Hunting Dog's Proof (4)

The farther we came down the mountain, the more tangled my thoughts grew.

Any farther and we'd be right on top of the village houses. If those things pushed any lower than this, today's hunt would be as good as ruined. Sure, I could still pull the trigger to protect the residents—but the fallout from that wouldn't be anything a local police box or a city hall clerk could handle. In the end, all I could do was stand there with my hands tied and watch until they turned back up the mountain.

Still... we already paid our dues with that scare. Please don't let it come to that.

I prayed inwardly, hoping Nureongi would pick up their trail sooner rather than later.

We'd gone a few more minutes downhill, and I was starting to think we might have to call the hunt off, when Nureongi suddenly dropped flat to the ground. I crouched on instinct and edged up beside her. She pointed silently toward the ravine.

"Over there, Unnie."

I scanned the area, but the dense undergrowth hid everything from view. I trusted Nureongi anyway. Tightening my grip on the gun, I began creeping toward the ravine, one careful step at a time.

Step by careful step, we closed the distance—and sure enough, just as Nureongi had said, the boar family came into view. They were drinking peacefully from the stream, quenching their thirst. And the target that looked to be the mother... she was easily the size of a compact car.

At that size, most of them would've already self-destructed... lucky bastard.

The fact that she'd given birth and was still walking around in one piece meant this thing had properly evolved into a monster.

Can a slug round even take her down?

Not like I had a choice. All I could do was hope a headshot would drop her on the spot. Before I took aim, I signaled Nureongi to cover her ears. She caught my meaning, clamped both hands over her puppy ears, and kept her eyes on the monster boar.

I held my breath, settled the sights on her skull, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Bang!

The round slammed home, dead-on into the boar's head. But all she did was drop her snout with a splitting scream—she didn't go down. I immediately shifted my aim to her belly.

Bang!

Only after the second round did she collect herself and charge straight at me. But this was a steep ravine slope. Not the kind of place a fat pig like her could scramble up easily. As the monster boar started climbing the incline, I dumped the trigger as fast as I could, aiming for her snout.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three more rounds in a row, and at last her charge started to falter. I yanked fresh shells from my vest to reload. That was when Nureongi, who'd been right beside me, launched herself at the boar in a blur.

Couldn't hold back after all. A hunting dog's a hunting dog, I guess.

Nureongi drove a vicious kick straight into the thing's face. The boar let out a choking squeal and tumbled down the slope like she'd taken another slug, and Nureongi landed lightly on her feet.

"Nureongi! Get clear!"

She didn't really need to—but the time she'd bought me was enough to finish reloading. The instant she darted aside, I pulled the trigger again and put the tumbled boar down for good.

When it was all over, I looked back at Nureongi. Her ears and tail were hanging limp as she stared at me. Was she bracing for a scolding because she'd done something I'd told her not to? Or was it because I'd barked at her just now?

Honestly, that had been a moment where Nureongi's life had been on the line. If one of my rounds had caught her—Awakened or not, I had no idea—even a beastfolk body would've been blown in half.

I slung the gun over my back, walked over, and raised my hand. She squeezed her eyes shut and started trembling, like she thought I was about to hit her.

...I'm not that cold-hearted, you know.

Either way, it was a hunting dog's instinct—protecting her partner. She deserved praise for that.

"Good job."

I gently ruffled Nureongi's hair. Her eyes flew open, round as saucers, and she stared up at me.

"...You're not... mad at me? I ran out on my own..."

"Instinct's instinct. What am I supposed to do about that?"

"But..."

"You still did good. Thanks to you, we wrapped this up faster than I expected."

I met her eyes and gave her a bright smile. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trembling faded from Nureongi's face, and that sunny grin of hers bloomed right back.

I walked over to the dead boar and looked her over. This thing had been a whole different class of trouble compared to a water deer. I'd punched three huge holes through her snout—the softest spot I could think of—and she'd still held on till the end.

You're one hell of a beast, I'll give you that.

I checked the head. There was a hole where the blood was running, but it wasn't nearly as deep ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as the ones in her snout.

"Damn... that skull was ridiculously thick."

Once I'd confirmed she was dead, I looked around, but the piglets we'd seen earlier were already gone—scattered, apparently. I snapped a photo of the boar with my phone, then grabbed one of the hind legs and started dragging. Being Semi-Awakened helped, I guess—the thing had to weigh as much as a compact car, and it was still brutally heavy, but I managed to get it moving.

Then Nureongi grabbed the other leg and started pulling with me, and it got a whole lot easier.

"Hahaha... becoming a woman somehow made me even stronger, I think."

"Was it harder when you were a man?"

"Even a boar half this size, three grown men used to grunt and strain just to drag it out."

"Then this is better, right?"

The sharp hunting-dog look from earlier was gone, and she was just my simple, honest Nureongi again. Watching her, I felt my own tension start to ease.

The two of us grunted and hauled the boar until the village houses came into view—then we stopped at the sound of something behind us. I spun around, gun already in my hands, and found the orphaned piglets trailing after us.

There was no aggression in them. They just didn't know their mother was dead, following her scent in a little procession.

Some religions would tell you to show mercy in a moment like this. But that's for animals. These were monsters—God would look the other way for this much. Without hesitation, I emptied every loaded round into the piglets and sent them to their mother's side.

A moment later, I stacked the piglets' small bodies on top of their mother. Nureongi just stood there, staring.

"...Was that too cruel of me?"

"No. Everything you do is a good thing, Unnie."

Nureongi's loyalty hadn't changed a bit. But her voice seemed to tremble, just a little.

"If they'd just been animals, I'd have fired a few rounds into the air and scared them off. But... you know, right?"

"...Yeah. I know."

Nureongi had become a person because of the anomalies, and now she hunted at my side. Those things had never become people, and so they'd left this world together with their young. It was a strange, bitter thing.

But I didn't have the energy to dwell on it any deeper, and I wasn't smart enough to start lecturing about morals or philosophy anyway. The best I could do was bury this uneasy feeling in the mountain and walk away. I hoped Nureongi would learn how to shake off feelings like this, too.

We started dragging the boar again, without a word. On the way down the mountain path, the only sound was birdsong, quiet and still.

When we got back to the village, the middle-aged man we'd met earlier was waiting near the orchard, along with several other people who looked like residents, all of them smiling.

"Whoa~ That's Huntsman Jang for you—took care of it just like that!"

"I didn't do much. The gun did the killing, and this one did the chasing."

I ruffled Nureongi's hair, and the villagers came over, smiling.

"Aigoo, you worked hard. First time doing something like this?"

"Yes..."

"It wasn't too hard, was it?"

"I was okay..."

These weren't the village elders she knew—just strangers being this warm and familiar—so Nureongi was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a little wary at first. But seeing the genuine joy on their faces, a faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth too.

That's right, Nureongi... maybe this is the first step toward becoming that hero you talked about.

I watched Nureongi soaking up the praise, feeling proud, and called the city hall official.

After hanging up with the officer, I looked back at Nureongi. She'd already been surrounded by the villagers, showing off the boar we'd just taken down.

"My Unnie shot it right in the head!"

Watching her launch into my heroic tale was honestly pretty admirable... but I didn't need any more weird rumors going around.

"So you're just leaving out the part where you flying-kicked it?"

"But! You're the one who actually took it down!"

The villagers burst out laughing at that. Figuring I might as well kill the mood a little, I turned to them.

"Unfortunately, the environmental division's going to collect the whole thing. I was thinking of cutting off a few pounds to share, but..."

"Come on now. When have we ever been short on meat around here?"

"Fair enough. These things just reek of game anyway—probably wouldn't even taste good."

A little later, Nureongi slipped away from chatting with the villagers and quietly came over to me.

"Hey, Unnie. Do you think this is enough to buy Eunseo that pocket?"

"Hmm? Well... back in the day, a boar this size would've gone for a few hundred thousand won. These days there's an extra zero on the end, so... yeah, we can probably afford it."

"Hehe! Then that's a relief!"

Watching that big, bright smile, it seemed like she'd done exactly what I'd hoped—left whatever uneasy feelings the hunt had stirred up back on the mountain. What a good kid.

I waited for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the environmental officer with the villagers, and with Nureongi pressed right up against my side.