TFN C10

Chapter 10

What—what is this? What on earth is this?

It’s not a toy car, so how can someone just grab a real car with a hand and whisk it around like that?

With back arched, Wonhyo bared his teeth.

He had heard that the very small number of top-rank hunters possessed such monstrous strength that they could crush a person like sugar candy.

At the time, he’d laughed it off, thinking there’d be no chance to meet someone like that.

He knew the man was scary from the aura he gave off, but this was frightening to an excessive degree.

Wonhyo yanked talismans out of his inventory in a rush.

As he drew on divine power, flames caught and whooshed up, scattering like smoke.

He plunged toward the spot where the talisman had flown.

It was a Wish-Granting Talisman to show the weakest point, so if he just pierced there—

Ouch!

“Kyeng!”

Having charged in full tilt, Wonhyo clutched his aching nose with his forepaws and whimpered.

“It’ll be useless.”

Move it! Let me out! Why are you doing this to me?

“Kyaoooo—!!”

At the growl brimming with rage, Cheongmun quietly waved his hand.

When the flick of his wrist ceased, a matte-black gun barrel showed.

Even looking this way and that, Wonhyo could only see something that looked like a gun, and he puffed himself up all over to threaten.

Frightened, then.

Cheongmun wasn’t exactly an expert on tiger communication, but with the tail tucked low, eyes widened, and body glued to the ground, it looked intensely uneasy.

Confirming the sharper-than-expected pattern and the paws that seemed three or four times a cat’s, he slid the drawn gun back into his glove.

Then he opened his palm to show he held no weapon.

The wariness didn’t vanish, but some of the fear seemed to ease.

“Let’s change location first.”

He reached out, then stopped, and bit the edge of his glove. He peeled off the sealed item that wouldn’t come off without the wearer’s permission, revealing bare hands.

“May I touch you?”

There was no answer, but even when he slowly brought his hand close, it didn’t bolt.

It looked less like consent and more like a device that had frozen because too much input data had flooded it.

“(Skill marking will execute automatically.) Would you like to register the contacted target?”

At the status prompt asking whether to observe what his hand was touching, he lifted a corner of his mouth.

“Registration complete.”

“▽A marked lifeform is within a 1 km radius.

The target’s physical arousal level is excessively high. Exercise caution.”

Notifications stacked one after another.

He… touched me?

Wonhyo held his breath at the warmth—chillingly hot.

In subzero cold that already bit the bones, that small body heat felt violently good—but it shouldn’t.

He hastily came back to his senses and struggled to wriggle free of the grip.

Let go! Let me go!

“Kyaong! Kyaong!”

At his fierce resistance, the man’s hands bound him more firmly.

Wonhyo panted harshly, then forced his breathing to settle.

Once the confusion passed, fear and anger followed.

Why did my body stop back there?

It felt like a fairy, didn’t it? It was surely the work of one of the gods from whom he borrowed divine power.

“Is there a problem? Is the holding position uncomfortable?”

He wanted to let out a hollow laugh, but the inability to express himself made him feel horribly aggrieved.

Right now—does this look like it’s because of posture!

“Kyareung! Kyaooo!”

However loudly he tried to shout, only a rasping cry clawed from his throat, driving him mad.

Don’t touch me! It brings bad luck!

“Kyaaaa—ah?”

“Quest penalty duration is reduced.”

“Ghostly energy has been blocked.”

Huh?

As Wonhyo, wound tight with fury and flailing, suddenly stilled, the man seized the opening and handled matters swiftly.

He opened the door of the car he had moved by hand moments ago as if it were the most natural thing, and pulled the pile of Wonhyo’s clothes from his inventory, spreading them on the passenger seat.

Then, forming a small cube barrier, he transferred Wonhyo into it.

When the body heat firmly holding him fell away, Wonhyo shuddered.

He shook off the daze from the smooth, flowing sequence and snapped back to himself.

Was the car he’d hidden under his? No wonder he was grabbing someone else’s car without fear and moving it around.

No—that wasn’t the point now. Why had the ghostly energy been blocked?

No, that wasn’t the point either. He’d made contact with the man—was that okay?

His thoughts were tangled and out of order; not knowing where to seek an answer, his head stuttered like an erroring machine.

For now, right.

Wonhyo reread the status window floating before his eyes.

Unlike what he’d seen earlier, the moment the man took his hands off him, a fresh warning popped up.

“The more you contact powerful ‘ghostly energy,’ the longer the penalty duration. Leave the area.”

Even in beast form, contact with a ghost meant spending more time transformed.

He knew that—but why was it only when he touched the man that it was blocked?

Since receiving the penalty for failing to complete the class quest in time, this was the first such situation.

Is it because of a skill?

But even now, inside the cube—clearly the man’s skill—he was still exposed to the ghostly energy.

Then the only answer was contact.

Wonhyo recalled the chronic condition that raised the difficulty of his life, on top of the damn quest’s penalty.

“Born as a vessel without substance; able to touch gods but unable to form ties with humans—thus severed from parents from birth. Unable to tie fates with others, you must have brought misfortune to those around you. Tsk, the poor child.”

He still remembered vividly the words he’d heard the first time he met Mother, while clinging to his sister’s hand.

Born without the thread of connection to others, the mere act of touching someone would shove them into misfortune.

As a child, this had gotten him pelted with stones by kids at the Catholic orphanage.

Just coming near him, they’d get hurt—of course they shunned him; even the volunteers couldn’t handle him and left him nearly neglected.

Despite small accidents, the nuns never abandoned his care, and he somehow grew to school age.

His sister, who had come as a volunteer, tried to adopt him—after a major accident, he thought he’d never see her again.

A few weeks later, with casts on her arms and legs, she took him by the hand to meet his spirit-mother.

He’d first heard of his fate then.

Mother took him as a disciple and moved to adopt him, paying the price by falling seriously ill; his sister accepted a spirit descent as the price for refusing to give up becoming his family.

They said they didn’t regret it—that it was only what they ought to do—but to the person living it, it was only grief and fury.

After learning he mustn’t touch others, he had never been handled by another’s hand.

Wonhyo looked at the man in the driver’s seat.

Surely something bad would happen.

He felt guilty that it would be because of him; then, thinking he had said no and been grabbed anyway, a petty sense of serves-you-right made his mood seesaw.

He’s not police, is he?

Seeing how his uncle had asked separate permission earlier, he must do something similar.

He’d used a skill, so he was a hunter, and clearly high-rank. But would someone like that have a low enough position to come to a scene? Then again, maybe not—confusing.

In any case, everyone on scene was watching this man’s mood.

As he buckled his seatbelt and started the car, he turned his head and looked at Wonhyo.

Their eyes met, and Wonhyo quickly dropped his gaze.

Was it because he was a beast now?

He seemed more frightening than to human eyes.

“Mr. Yun… Wonhyo. Can you understand what I’m saying?”

After the phone flashed a few times and the man called his name, Wonhyo pricked his ears.

Then he nodded once.

While edging closer to the door, that is.

“This is Lee Cheongmun with the Special Agency. I’m going to take you home now—does your registered address match your current residence?”

Wonhyo carefully parsed the question and nodded again. Then he wondered how the man had gotten his name and address.

Glancing up, he saw eyes behind silver-rimmed glasses tinged with a faint smile.

“When an awakener transforms into another form due to a skill, if it’s a carnivore that could harm people, it must be registered with us. You weren’t registered, so we ran an identity check.”

The tone said this was only proper.

Uh… I’m not going to bite anyone, though.

“Kyaooong.”

Cheongmun tilted his head.

“…It may feel unfair, but after the publication of research showing stray dogs and cats could mutate under mana influence, enforcement has tightened. If identity can’t be guaranteed, they’re first sent to a shelter; if they don’t return to human form within a certain timeframe…”

Wonhyo lost the will to protest.

On days when there was any chance he’d become a tiger, he would never go out again.

“In any case, is your address listed as 9-gil, Palun-daero, Jongno-gu—correct?”

Yes.

“Kyawng.”

Wonhyo nodded meekly.

Footnotes:

• Wish-Granting Talisman: A ritual charm invoked to reveal a target’s weakest point; here used to locate the most fragile segment of a barrier.