He’s a Fox Ch 83

Chapter 83

“Must have been a hard decision. Thank you sincerely for your cooperation.”

The sudden thanks caught Hohyun completely off guard. His eyes blinked confusedly; he had no idea what agreement Kangwoon and Amur had exchanged, nor that Yuwol had been informed of it. Startled, he nonetheless accepted the big dog’s hand thrust forward and gave a polite shake.

Behind them, Amur waved a thick file of documents for all to see.

“Gratitude later. Why don’t we go inside and talk?”

The binder was so thick it would be impossible to skim while standing at the entrance, and judging from the weight of his bag, that wasn’t the only set he had brought. Kangwoon, knowing this would take time, led them deeper into the house.

But not into the study. Instead, he guided them further, to a chamber with space for nearly twenty seats around a large table and even a whiteboard standing on the side—it looked every bit like a conference room.

This house really is like an onion, thought Hohyun, wide‑eyed. Every time I think I’ve seen it all, there’s another hidden layer.

As he looked around curiously, Amur stacked more documents onto the table with a showy sigh.

“Normally, civilians aren’t supposed to see this kind of classified material. But—since you’re family, you get special treatment.”

The theatrical wave of hands, the feigned lamentation—Amur’s tone was smug with self-importance, as though bragging of privileges. Hohyun could only marvel. So it’s the same in the West too—family, connections, old school ties rule.

While the fox busied himself pondering cultural similarities, Kangwoon, well acquainted with his cousin’s personality, recognized it as half in jest. But the one who reacted was the other guest—Yuwol, features stern, brows furrowed slightly.

“That’s not why we came. We’re here to provide information in return for the help offered.”

“Of course, of course.” Amur lifted his hands in mock defense. “I was just teasing.”

Listening less than five minutes had already been enough; his tone told Hohyun plainly what sort of man this was. Someone bound by principle, unbending. His jet-black hair and clipped affect reminded the fox of someone: it echoed strongly of the second son of the Yes family—someone he hadn’t thought of in a long while.

While he lingered on that impression, Yuwol flipped open one of the files.

“First, a brief overview. The case we’re handling surfaced this past autumn. More details you’ll find at the top of page two. Since the first report we’ve made repeated attempts at arrests. But as it is run in cell structures, dismantling them in one strike has proven extremely difficult.”

The dossier outlined the trafficking case’s history—reports filed, arrests executed. One line stood out: members of one cell know nothing of other cells.

In other words, just when they thought they had grasped the chain, it cut itself off and fled.

The briefing painted a hard situation. Yet neither Amur nor Yuwol carried any gloom. Listening to his colleague explain, Amur just grinned slyly.

“At least thanks to that informant your big brother found, we finally hit on a thread!”

“Pages twelve through fourteen contain the enhanced data our team compiled from that lead,” Yuwol said smoothly.

“Informant?” The fox paused. So that’s why Yuwol had thanked him just now—through Kangwoon’s arrangement.

He resolved to ask later, then flipped to the referenced pages—only to freeze.

The content, forms, words were incomprehensible to him. But the photos? He recognized those instantly.

Rows of cages. Collars. Shackles in grim places he knew too well.

So cell-structured gangs might not directly know one another, but their methods were shared. Every image burned into his eyes. He swallowed, grimacing.

As he stared hollowly, Yuwol flipped again, narrating.

“This location was our most recent bust.”

“Oh, right—the ringleader was a rabbit, wasn’t it?” Amur interjected.

“Yes. A rabbit was leading. With a fairly large scale of operations, headquarters had high hopes—but for reasons just explained, the details remain blurred.”

Amur offered scraps, Yuwol filled in details—but Hohyun heard none of it. On the page, he saw what he had dreaded: the very group that had once seized him.

He turned quickly. Each section only dry data: locations, scale, perpetrators. But finally he found what he sought: Successful arrests. Trial proceedings underway.

His chest flooded with relief. It was over. His question came out trembling.

“…The people—what happened to them?”

“All those found were immediately brought to nearby hospitals,” Yuwol answered flatly.

“And those about to be sold are safe too,” Amur added. “Most already sold have also been traced back… but some, we still can’t find. No traces—these guys dismantled cameras, kept no ledgers.”

“…Ah.”

Even payments were fully in cash. Amur clucked in exasperation. “Cash, at this age! Can you believe it?”

Still, he noted, the silence wouldn’t hold. Once trials began, it would break. To this, Hohyun gnawed his lip, remembering cages of children and faces he couldn’t forget, compact with sorrow.

His hand trembled on the page. And across, Kangwoon tapped the table.

“What about you posing as a buyer to fish for more info?”

Supply implied demand. Rumors of exotic “pets” must pass through hidden channels. And wherever such circulation existed, there would be regular, wealthy clients. With a Luntie’s name, baiting them would be easy.

But Amur immediately waved it off.

“First thing I tried. They froze me out right away. Smiled to my face, but nothing real. It’s like everyone knows who I serve.”

Traffickers were wary—they knew they were criminals. The golden prince’s approach practically screamed trap. And anyway, Amur’s entire network was Western. Out here in the East, they traced lines far too easily.

“So the best card was wasted.” He sighed, almost regretting. Then, his gaze caught.

Across the table, the slim fox still staring hard at the victims’ files.

Amur’s lips curled into a slow, measuring smile.