He’s a Fox Ch 99

Chapter 99

As the distance closed, his nose reacted on reflex. Doing its job with earnest precision, it picked up the stranger’s scent quickly—and at once, the earlier hypothesis shifted from suspicion to certainty. There was a difference, yes, but the feel was extremely close to Kim Hyunseok’s.

The face shared none of Hyunseok’s features; if anything, it was starkly different. But the smell clinched it. The man in front of him had to be the cousin Hyunseok openly despised.

Unlike Kangwoon, who’d unwillingly learned many details from growing up alongside the two wolf beastmen, Hohyun didn’t know the whole backstory. What he did recall clearly was how that good‑natured Hyunseok grimaced and recoiled at the mere mention of this cousin. So he kept his guard tight. His ears, which had been tipped up, pressed flat to his skull. The wolf, looking the fox over, clicked his tongue.

“So this is what Beom says he cherishes… was expecting something special.”

A sharp gaze slid down the black fox, taking in the newly rounded head with the ears flattened, the bristled ruff fluffed with suspicion, the bound legs, and finally the only white on him—the tail tip. The wolf muttered, almost to himself:

“Just ordinary, isn’t he?”

A faint note of disappointment shaded his voice—easy enough to guess why. The prejudices against fox beastmen extend far past “con artist”; one of them is the old seductress trope, the hothouse beauty who bewitches and pouts. That relic came from vague tales of “beauties” who once clung to the ruling class—hardly verifiable.

He’d probably imagined a figure to match those stories, the sort to topple kingdoms with a smile. The reality could not have been farther: a creature that looked freshly hunted down. The wolf’s mood visibly deflated.

Maybe that mismatch irked him, because a polished shoe ground down near the tail. The relentless grinding tugged out a few strands of fur. The sting made the fox jerk. Watching him flinch in pain, the wolf—surely Kim Kyungseok—smiled, pleased.

He looked like a man savoring pain he’d caused. He even nodded, satisfied. At once, the fox understood why Hyunseok reacted so strongly to him. A man kind to a fox from their first meeting had transformed at the mention of family—now it was obvious why.

Finding the reaction amusing, Kyungseok prodded the fox again. Tail, back, paws—even the ears. With the legs bound together he couldn’t poke the belly, but he tried most everything else.

A fox life taught him that indifference was the best defense against petty torment. But bodies react to pain regardless of will. Each involuntary flinch etched deeper satisfaction on the wolf’s face.

While the client toyed with the prize, the kidnappers standing behind him traded looks. Some silent conversation passed that the fox couldn’t parse, and the one who seemed most senior stepped up. The voice was startlingly polite compared to his earlier sniping at colleagues.

“As explained previously, we acquired him per the method. There shouldn’t be any further issues.”

“Mm. Good work. Your fee will be sent today.”

He sidestepped the core cleanly—believing they’d brought a maned wolf instead of the intended fox. Unlike them, the gray wolf recognized the black beast on the floor for what he was at a glance, but even he only nodded at the subjectless assurance.

The kidnappers’ faces showed confusion at the response, but Kyungseok ignored whatever they thought and jerked his chin in command.

“We’re tight for the appointment. Get him in.”

“Yes, sir.”

At his curt order, a dog beastwoman who had stood quietly to the side stepped forward. She didn’t show it much, but the line between her brows said she didn’t care for touching the fox. Even so, there wasn’t a hint of hesitation in her grip. The fox could suddenly understand why elders praised black dog beastfolk for their fidelity.

She bent and scooped him like a sack. The pressure in her hands said she wasn’t in a good mood. So this is what it feels like to have your hide gripped. The fox squeezed his eyes shut and let out a pained whine.

At the sound, Kyungseok glanced back and barked without checking facts.

“Hey! Do you know how much that costs? Careful!”

“Understood. I’ll be more cautious.”

“No—give him here. I’ll carry him.”

Even after she adjusted her grip exactly as told, it didn’t satisfy him; he thrust out his hands. His displeasure was plain to the fox, but the woman offered no complaint—only passed the fox over silently.

The man slapped the warm bundle onto his forearms and strode off. Accustomed to being carried by a tiger, the fox wriggled instinctively, seeking a comfortable angle. Feeling the shift, Kyungseok paused and glanced down.

“What, uncomfortable?”

“Grr‑m…”

“Hmm. Hold on.”

After a brief thought he adjusted the fox’s limbs. The touch sent a wave of discomfort shot with fear. Any normal fox might find manhandling unpleasant; for a beastman aware of the whole situation, this was something else entirely.

From even this short window, one thing was clear: there was nothing altruistic or considerate in the man. He enjoyed others’ pain and barked orders at subordinates without a qualm—a type who put everyone beneath his heel. A second ago he’d treated the fox like an object; to change tone suddenly now was frightening.

Mid‑adjustment, the wolf halted, then—almost entranced—stroked the fur. He savored the texture through his fingertips and murmured:

“…Well now. That’s ridiculously soft.”

Once as coarse as a scouring pad, the coat had turned silk‑soft under Kangwoon’s care. Gloss ran through it like water. Enjoying the feel, Kyungseok forgot himself for a moment.

A basic stroke turned gradually insistent, to the point “kneading” fit better. Whatever the goal, with the fox’s legs bound, no position would feel right—and now the touching felt like the point. After a moment’s thought, the fox raised his voice.

“Yip‑yip! Ngh!”

Thank goodness for the Canidae gift of cross‑form speech. Otherwise the handling would have dragged on until the man got bored. Reading thanks in the whine—thanks that didn’t exist—Kyungseok cleared his throat lightly. In truth it wasn’t gratitude at all, but anything else would only make things worse.

He didn’t seem to notice the lie. Instead, something else seemed… off. He didn’t look angry—but still. The fox blinked, unsure, then tipped his body slightly left to test. His center slid and the posture collapsed naturally.