He’s a Fox Ch 20

Chapter 20

Wouldn’t it be a bit inconvenient for a tiger that big to read documents laid out down on the floor?

Maybe it would be better if I went up instead.

The fox tilted his head back to gauge the height.

The solid-wood desk, built to suit the large frame of a tiger, was quite tall.

The sofa had been covered in fabric, making it possible to climb with the help of claws,

but the glossy, polished surface of the desk made that impossible.

Foxes generally had excellent jumping ability—

Hohyun’s youngest brother, the only other fox beastman in his family, was proof that it applied not only to red foxes but to fox beastfolk in general.

The problem was…

I don’t think I can do it.

Hohyun had never been good with anything physical.

Ever since his toddler days, he had been prone to tripping and falling, always getting bumps and scratches.

Athletics and he had never been on good terms.

Jumping straight up onto the desk would be impossible—something in between would be needed.

The fox fixed his gaze on the tiger’s knee.

Perfect in both height and surface area—ideal as a stepping stone.

But one had to observe some propriety.

Looking around for other options, his eyes landed on a drawer.

Yes… definitely better than planting his paws on the tiger’s knee.

Quickly, he pulled open the second drawer from the bottom.

Hearing the rustle and seeing the fox pawing his way into the drawer, the tiger let out a long sigh.

“If you want to come up, just ask for help.”

“Kki-ang.”

Bending down, the big cat lifted the fox up effortlessly with one hand,

while his tail reached over to nudge the half-open drawer closed.

Once safely deposited on the desk, Hohyun dropped the papers from his mouth and placed a paw on them.

First, he intended to ask the question that had been bothering him most.

His paw landed on the second clause: “Refrain from foul language and other undesirable speech habits.”

He knew, of course, that swearing was off-limits.

What he wanted to know was exactly how far “undesirable speech habits” extended.

“Oh, that. One time, someone swore in front of Yuri, and she repeated it exactly—so I added that in.”

The way the tiger’s expression twisted at the memory, it clearly had not been a pleasant experience.

With him in such a mood, it felt wrong to press on about what qualified as “undesirable.”

Better to ask later.

In his mental list of “things to handle once I’m in human form,”

he added Clarify Clause 2.

He gave a soft cry to signal he was done for now.

Looking back down at the contract, he was reminded how absurdly large the sum was—

even a rough calculation put it at more than double his previous salary.

On top of that, it promised extra pay depending on circumstances.

Unless the tiger was some kind of philanthropist, there had to be a reason for paying so much.

The written terms only said “care for the child,” but considering the sweet-natured Yuri,

he couldn’t see why such light work merited so much money.

As the fox stilled in deep thought, the tiger reached out and brushed the white tip of his tail.

Startled by the sudden touch, Hohyun’s head jerked up.

Caressing the fluffy white end between his fingers to hold his attention, the tiger brought up the clause the fox had been staring at.

“It’s a base rate, so it’s on the low side. We can adjust it later, during the real contract, after the collar’s off. For now, just focus on the clauses.”

From Kangwoon’s perspective, the only reason to dwell on the payment section was to negotiate for a raise—

because who ever refused more money?

He clearly hadn’t even considered other possibilities.

The ordinary, cautious fox—busy worrying there might be some hidden trap in an amount so large—was aghast.

How could this be “low”? Where?!

His fur stood on end, making the tail in the tiger’s hand puff up to twice its size.

“Anything else you want to ask? Hold up your right forepaw if yes, left if no.”

Since the tiger had said they’d go over details after the collar was removed,

there was nothing else for now.

Rattled, Hohyun quickly raised his left paw.

The mottled pads set in the black fur stood out vividly.

“I’ll get that collar off soon—end of the week, maybe? It’s not the kind of thing you can just undo.”

“Kkaek-kkok.”

That was no trouble; he could wait.

He’d already seen traffickers using a strange tool to fasten and remove it.

“If you need anything, tell Juwon.”

Juwon? …Oh. The crocodile.

He’d heard the tiger use the name but still found it awkward.

He couldn’t even call him out loud under normal circumstances,

and as the sole crocodile beastman in the house, he had just been “the crocodile” in Hohyun’s head this whole time.

With such a rugged appearance, a name like “Doo-shik” or “Jung-pal” seemed more fitting—

another reason it felt strange.

Still, realizing who was meant, the fox answered energetically with a Kkyak!

The confident reply drew a small chuckle from Kangwoon.

“Alright, off you go.”

As the fox began to climb down, he suddenly lifted his head again—

clamping the end of the document in his teeth and gazing up at the tiger with shining eyes.

“Kkuu-ung?”

Can I take it with me?

Easily interpreting the intent, the tiger granted permission without a second thought.

He had given it to him for that very purpose anyway.

Trotting over to the door, the fox scratched at it with his claws.

Hearing the sound, the brown bear outside opened it for him.

Had he not, Hohyun might have had to awkwardly trot back to ask the desk-bound tiger for help.

In thanks, the fox rubbed his head against the bear’s leg before scampering off toward the living room.

There, the crocodile was keeping watch over the sleeping child,

oblivious to the fact that her brother and “Meongmeong” were gone.

Spotting the fox with the paper in his mouth, the crocodile’s voice was a quiet whisper—perhaps so as not to wake the child:

“Oh. The contract?”

The bright tone, paired with a congratulatory pat on the head, was rough.

Had Kangwoon tipped him off?

“Kki-aung?”

“Mm?”

“Kkung…”

“…No idea what you’re saying. Anyway, everyone working here gets one of those—though pay and details vary by person, anything involving the young lady is the same.”

Ah—now it made sense.

The fox recalled the clauses: no violence, no swearing, strict confidentiality…

So that was why even the scarred, fearsome predators here spoke in oddly polished, formal tones—“Did you do so? Is that what happened?”—with not a single curse among them.

Nodding in understanding, the fox let out a long Kkuuu.

He meant he was going back to his room, but, as usual, the crocodile understood none of it.

Which was perfectly normal, really—making it all the stranger how well the tiger seemed to understand him.

As much as the crocodile was glued to Yuri, his communication with the fox was nil.

Conclusion: Kangwoon was simply very quick on the uptake.

With thoughts of his perhaps-soon-to-be employer in mind, Hohyun went to leave the document in his room.

That evening, before bed, he carefully read through it again,

checking for any hidden “poison clauses” he might have missed earlier.

To his relief, there was nothing that seemed likely to cause trouble.

Two days later, on Saturday morning,

a guest came to the tiger’s den.

It was a man in an ivory knit sweater, his hair grey.

Though his expression was cold and devoid of warmth,

Hohyun felt more glad than afraid.

Inside the mansion, every resident was a beastman walking on two legs—

covered in fur or scales—so this was the first beastman he had seen in overtly human form.

And there was more—judging from the scent…

wolf? Or perhaps wolfdog?

It was a little faint, so he couldn’t be certain of the exact subspecies,

but there was no doubt they shared the Canid family*.

That alone was enough to spark friendly feelings toward someone he had never spoken to.

Since arriving here, not a single other canid beastman had crossed his path.

Perhaps it was because the mansion’s master was a tiger.

Whatever the reason, the long-missed sight of a fellow canid set the fox’s tail swishing gently.

The “Meongmeong’s” clear pleasure even prompted the baby tiger—

who was glued to his side—to offer an uncharacteristic greeting:

“Hyunie-uncle**, hello.”

The way she sat on the floor as she spoke was so unenthusiastic it almost looked sullen.

The man, seeing so obvious a lack of interest toward himself, suddenly brightened.

The icy demeanor melted instantly into spring warmth.

“Well, if it isn’t our princess!”

He hurried over and held the back of his hand near her face—

a greeting gesture tailored for felines, taken to avoid approaching too close without permission.

The deliberate process was familiar to watch.

Yuri sniffed the back of his hand a few times,

and when satisfied, stepped aside.

Having passed the test of the smallest gatekeeper in the world,

the guest’s gaze shifted to the fox seated beside her.

Footnotes

** Honorific “Hyunie-uncle” — A child’s affectionate way of addressing an older male family member or close family friend named Hyun. In Korean, 삼촌 (samchon) is used even for non-blood “uncles.”