He’s a Fox Ch 77

Chapter 77

“The boss already stepped out a while ago…”

“Is that so? Looks like we just missed each other.”

The man’s easy use of a familiar-sounding honorific for Kangwoon, the tone of regret at his absence, and the fact that he was a tiger as well—all of it landed like something ripped straight from those weekend family dramas: the childhood betrothal suddenly appears unannounced.

Considering the magnificence of the Beom family estate, the possibility didn’t seem entirely absurd.

While Hohyun’s imagination raced ahead, tensing with unease, the stranger strode right inside. At a glance it was obvious he intended to wait indoors until Kangwoon returned. But the problem was that he did so without even removing his shoes.

The fox nearly fainted at the sight of immaculate polished leather treading the wooden threshold. As the guest clacked forward unbothered, he caught the younger man’s horrified expression, froze, then muttered ah in belated recollection.

His Korean had been so fluent, it was disorienting, but watching him fumble awkwardly with his footwear exposed his true origins—clearly, thoroughly Western.

In Hohyun’s mind the stranger’s rank dropped instantly, downgraded from “respectable guest” to “uncultured intruder.”

Once the shoes were neatly nudged aside, the fox finally voiced his curiosity.

“Excuse me… but may I ask what your relationship is with the boss?”

“What? He didn’t tell you yesterday? I’m his cousin.”

“…Cousin?”

“My mother is his aunt. That makes me Amur Luntie.” The man stretched out a hand. “We’ll probably be seeing each other often, so let’s get along.”

Caught off guard, Hohyun shook it. “Ye Hohyun,” he introduced back.

The pale tiger’s lips lifted; fangs glinted delicately between them, an already beautiful face blooming like a flower. It might have been dazzling, but Hohyun, long since captivated by Kangwoon alone, was busy with an entirely different thought:

Could he be sick?

Even in full human form, his ears and tail were unhidden. It reminded the fox of his own embarrassing condition months earlier, when his ears had refused to retract. Of course, as a large feline predator, it was unlikely to be the same issue—but still, surely there must be some hidden story. The doctor had said it was not uncommon.

The tail could be overlooked, but the ears… double ears meant double hearing. With the empathy of one who had suffered, Hohyun cast him a tender, sympathetic gaze.

Amur frowned. In his life, no one had ever looked upon him with sympathy. He stared, unsettled, at the youthful fox whose soft eyes shone almost painfully gentle while his hand unconsciously rubbed at his own throat. Probably meaningless—just a habit—but it looked strangely telling to the Western tiger.

The gaze lingered too long, and Hohyun faltered, unsure. Did I do something wrong? A few hesitant steps backward—and then came the sound of movement from behind a door.

Yuri peeked out, wide eyes searching. All day she had hidden from the prowling guards, but curiosity at her Moongmoo Oppa’s absence drew her out. Slowly scanning side to side, she spotted the stranger.

At once, her tail puffed beneath her little dress and her baby face hardened into a scowl. She stomped out on short legs, glaring.

Of course, she had napped the day before, never learning that Kangwoon had had a visitor. She wouldn’t recognize a cousin any more than she would a trespasser.

Padding straight to Hohyun’s trousers, she tugged insistently.

“Oppa.”

“What is it?”

“Hold Yuri.”

The request was rare. Kangwoon usually warned her constantly not to fling herself into Moongmoo Oppa’s thin arms. Surprised, he obeyed, lifting her—and yet even cozy in his arms, her eyes never left the pale tiger. Every hair along her tail bristled stiff, glaring as though she might pounce.

Amur clicked his tongue. “What? You don’t remember me? We’ve met before, runt.”

“……”

“Hm. Well, I suppose, it has been a while.”

The cub didn’t blink. Fierce scowl. Annoyed, Amur’s long tail whipped, striking the entryway wall with a slap. With a sigh, he dug in his pocket for a phone.

Perhaps he meant to call Kangwoon? Hohyun thought so—until instead the pale tiger swiped briskly, then thrust the screen toward Yuri.

Fox and cub alike ended up staring. A group photo—clearly a tiger clan shot. Beom Jaegwon, Sarah Luntie, a much-younger Amur himself standing nearby… and beside them a sullen-faced, broad-shouldered teenage boy.

The boy’s features, though softer, were unmistakable.

“…Oppa?” Yuri murmured.

“Oh? Recognize him without me even saying it? Well, fair. He doesn’t look much different then or now.”

“Wow…”

Fox and cub gawked at the vision of Kangwoon ten years younger. Satisfied, Amur grinned wide, smug.

Yuri’s tail settled slightly, though her eyes skipped distrustfully back to the intruder. She had been warned often of familiar strangers being the most dangerous. Wary gaze remained, but she no longer looked ready to bite.

That was enough. Amur sauntered inside and dropped himself onto the sofa.

He didn’t phone Kangwoon, nor did he ask when he’d return—just sat. Hohyun offered politely, but was declined. He could hardly force it. So he continued playing with Yuri.

Still, Amur’s silent presence prickled. The cub kept glancing over, ears twitching. Finally she drifted closer toward the sofa, arms stacked full of new toys from the main house. Suspicious, she hugged them close, as though protecting from theft. But she carried far too many—the toys dribbled one by one.

A long cylindrical plush, shaped like a puppy, rolled to Amur’s feet.

He bent automatically, fingers lifting it just as Yuri dropped the rest with a crash and surged forward. No words—she lunged and chomped down with her teeth on the toy in his grasp.

Her head whipped back fiercely while Amur’s grip instinctively tightened.

Squeeeeak! The squeaker inside wailed.

Hohyun stared blankly—his canine instincts read it like a tug-of-war game. But then Yuri toppled backward hard. Only then did realization strike: it wasn’t play, but a contest of strength between cub and stranger.

“Yuri!”

The fox dove forward. Luckily, she hadn’t struck her head. She smacked her lips—smack, smack—as though savoring a snack.

Horrified, he checked the toy in Amur’s hand. No obvious ripping, no tear. Only damp from saliva. Relief short-lived, his eyes narrowed—catching at last a tiny white shard embedded in the plush’s upper seam.

Half the size of a fingernail. Sharp. Tinged faintly red.

He sniffed. Metallic. Blood-iron.

His breath hitched, eyes wide.