He’s a Fox Ch 17

Chapter 17

At the appearance of a completely unexpected word, Hohyun froze on the spot.

“A… contract?”

What kind of contract? A contract was a document drawn up by both parties to formalize an agreement, and it could be of any kind imaginable.

Off the top of his head—leases, sales agreements, and so on…

But the tiger in front of him was, in Hohyun’s estimation, the boss of a bunch of burly types who could easily be gangsters, mobsters, or some other form of underworld muscle.

And in Hohyun’s experience, there was only one kind of “contract” such people tended to shove under someone’s nose.

“No way… a… a bodily rights waiver¹?”

The tail that had been lying loosely on the floor began to slowly slink away between his legs.

No—hold on, I’m a fox. Just what could they possibly use a fox for? The law of supply and demand dictated that there had to be a market for something before it would be “procured.”

Did a fox even have any body parts useful enough to be in demand?

Having been viewed with prejudice his whole life, Hohyun’s thoughts reflexively turned negative.

And then a sudden realization hit him like a blow.

“Wait—he just said he’d take the collar off!”

A furred fox might be of no value to anyone but a fur-processing factory…

But a healthy young man in his early twenties—one who had never even been sick with so much as a minor cold—might draw plenty of interest.

Thinking along those lines, everything suddenly made perfect sense.

Letting his ears flop flat for the first time in a while, Hohyun lay prone on the floor, marinating in this unsettling idea.

Watching the fox sprawled there, the tiger tilted his head, puzzled.

Why… when he hadn’t said anything particularly threatening?

Not that it mattered. It’s not like I ever understood him anyway, Kangwoon thought, brushing off the fox’s tension and continuing casually:

“It’s nothing serious. I’ll explain in detail later.”

His light, nonchalant tone made Hohyun lift his head slightly.

By the sound of it, this wasn’t the sort of knee-buckling document that was terrifying just to think about—like a bodily rights waiver.

So what kind of contract would require signing in exchange for removing the collar?

Realizing that he had been seriously mistaken, Hohyun flicked out his tongue to lick his nose.

Seeing the gesture, Kangwoon spoke up as though something had just occurred to him.

“There are snacks in the cupboard next to the fridge… Actually—forget it. Let’s just go together.”

He had misunderstood the nose-lick as hunger brought on by embarrassment.

Since Hohyun’s mouth was feeling a bit idle after all the earlier commotion, he perked up at the suggestion.

But Kangwoon shook his head to the idea of letting him go alone.

The kitchen, by nature, was full of sharp implements; one wrong move, and the breathing, living “person” beside him could wind up becoming an actual fox² in the tragic idiom-sense.

Rather than fret over mishaps out of sight, he decided it was better to spend a little time and go with him.

The tiger strode ahead, and the fox followed silently behind.

Even with Kangwoon walking slowly, the difference in stride length meant the fox had to all but trot to keep up.

If the tiger hadn’t eased his pace after hearing the fox’s panting breaths, Hohyun might have needed water before snacks.

After covering a fair distance, the fox peeked from behind the tiger into the cupboard’s interior—and clicked his tongue in disbelief.

If anyone doubted Kangwoon was a tiger, just a glance would prove them wrong: it was a veritable meat field.

He’d thought at least snacks would be different, given that regular meals were all meat—

but there wasn’t even a single strip of dried sweet potato, and Hohyun had to admit, that was impressive in its own way.

While the fox was still taken aback, the tiger rummaged idly inside and picked out a snack of suitable size.

Just as he was about to open it, the gleam-eyed fox—still peering into the depths of the cupboard—caught his eye.

Pausing, Kangwoon set the snack down and asked,

“Want to choose for yourself?”

There was no reason to refuse.

The fox, eager to look around, took a step forward to peer into the depths.

The cupboard was tall enough that he couldn’t see the upper shelves at all.

Maybe if he stood on his hind legs like a meerkat… but that was easier said than done for a clumsy fox in full beast form.

He tried a couple of times, just in case—but failed miserably and gave up, turning instead to nosing around the lowest shelf.

Large snacks lined up neatly, one of them even bigger than his own torso.

He couldn’t help wondering what kind of meat it contained to be that big, but eating all of it seemed impossible—just one piece might take a solid week.

As he wiggled his hips, considering a jump, a helping hand came from the tiger.

Lifted easily in one hand, the fox could now see the top shelf.

Up there, smaller snacks packed the space from end to end.

Hohyun stuck his head forward to sniff—pointless, since everything was tightly wrapped in plastic, but it was habit.

Reading the label carefully, he made a choice: whole dried duck meat.

Clamping the packet in his mouth, he tapped the tiger’s arm with his paw, signaling to be put down.

Opening the plastic was, of course, Kangwoon’s job.

Once unwrapped, the fox eagerly took the piece and began to eat with a cheerful chomp chomp.

Normally, Kangwoon disliked people smacking or chomping while eating—but somehow, the faint sounds made by this little creature as it chewed happily weren’t unpleasant at all.

Contentedly chewing until he let out a small puff of breath, the fox now had half the duck left.

Perhaps full already, he placed it on his forepaws and took a moment to rest.

An idea occurred to Kangwoon: maybe the fox had hidden food before simply because it had been too much to finish in one go?

Judging by how much he usually ate at mealtimes, it was entirely possible.

Still, at least it wasn’t from going hungry—thankfully.

As the tiger watched the fox savoring each bite, eyes half-closed, his hand moved unconsciously.

When a warm palm landed on his head, Hohyun jerked in surprise, eyes snapping open to stare upward.

By the time Kangwoon realized what he was doing and began to pull his hand away, the fox had already reacted first.

Eating naturally left one vulnerable to attack, and the sudden touch had triggered his instinctive wariness—

but the moment he recognized the touch as Kangwoon’s, he relaxed entirely.

That clear trust—the certainty that this person wouldn’t harm him—made the tiger smirk faintly.

A hand large enough to cover both forehead and the back of the skull stroked gently.

Not as skillful as a black bear’s touch, perhaps, but the warmth was pleasant nonetheless.

Eyes closing again, the fox let out a small, almost inaudible sound of contentment:

“Kkuu-euung…”

At the barely-there sound, the tiger’s tail twitched.

His hand, once confined to Hohyun’s head, slid down to his nape… and soon ventured onto his back.

The stroking from head to back was interrupted only when someone appeared.

“Uh, boss…?”

It was a large, brown bear beastman.

Surprised by the sudden presence, the fox’s head shot up.

When the tiger’s hand lifted away, Hohyun blinked and realized something—

Wait, when did I end up lying down?!

Scrambling hastily to his feet, he watched the bear approach cautiously and hand over a phone.

“The chairman called…”

“I’ll call back later—go take care of whatever you’re doing.”

A trace of annoyance showed on Kangwoon’s face as he rose, took the phone from the bear, and pocketed it—his own, apparently.

A “chairman,” huh? Even without knowing the full details, that was not a light title.

With nothing in particular to do, and clearly a matter having arisen, Hohyun assumed the tiger would soon leave.

He wagged his tail slightly to convey thanks—for letting him use the phone earlier and for the snack.

That seemed a polite enough goodbye, especially since they’d see each other again at lunch anyway.

But instead of leaving, the tiger took a different tack—snatching away the half-eaten duck meat.

“Don’t force yourself to finish just because you feel bad. It’s almost lunchtime—just stop.”

A careless push up onto the kitchen counter suggested he was going to throw it away.

Hohyun whined in protest, kki-oong, but Kangwoon merely flicked his chin toward the living room.

The unspoken meaning was clear: Get out of this danger zone while I’m watching.

Reluctantly, the fox trotted out, only stopping when the safety of the rug was beneath his paws.

Once he was settled, the tiger finally left, the bear following behind.

Two predators walking—yet only one set of footsteps.

Felines were known for being silent, but this was something else.

For a fox, whose physical makeup meant claws clicked against the floor with every step, it was fascinating.

With their departure, a hush fell over the living room—the first since he’d entered the tiger’s den.

There had always been the chatter of a baby tiger and an even louder crocodile.

With no one to talk to and the phone reclaimed earlier, he had nothing to do.

In the quiet, he began to think about what had just happened.

Whatever the tiger wanted, once the collar was removed, Hohyun would be able to take human form again.

Then he could explain the situation clearly and leave.

Once out… what then?

That thought brought back something he’d forgotten—

He was, after all, currently an unemployed job seeker.

Though he’d been dragged here without knowing where “here” was, it only meant that his dreaded job hunt would resume once more.

With a heavy sigh, the fox flopped onto the floor.

He pressed his face into the thick rug, soft enough for his paws to sink in deeply.

It smelled faintly of sunshine—freshly laundered, perhaps.

Each time he rubbed his head, small tufts of black fur came off onto the white fibers—

a sight that would make the crocodile faint if he saw it.

Letting out a small, humming whine, almost like singing to himself, the fox relaxed fully.

Sunlight poured through the broad glass windows.

Fresh from a bath, comfortably full from snacks…

With the sun warm on his back and the floor plush beneath him,

it was the perfect environment for a nap—and there was simply no resisting it.

In the end, the fox succumbed, closing his eyes.

He was sleeping soundly when—clack!—the front door opened.

The sudden sound shattered the heavy stillness, and Hohyun’s eyes flew open in alarm.

¹ Bodily rights waiver (신체 포기각서) — an informal or criminal-style “agreement” sometimes associated with organized crime in fiction, where a person essentially “signs away” their right to bodily safety, often under duress.

² This is a play on words: in Korean idiomatic speech, “becoming a fox” (여우가 되다) in this figurative, tragic sense could imply turning into prey, or a lifeless pelt, due to carelessness.