He’s a Fox Ch 84

Chapter 84

Come to think of it, there was another option. Judging from the mood, the difficulty level didn’t seem too high. Normally, Amur would never throw out a feeler like this without certainty, but he was in a rush—every day mattered if he wanted to secure his way back to the West. His eyes gleamed as he sidled lightly closer to Hohyun.

“So, what I’m saying is… would you consider going once?”

Naturally, the fox thought he was speaking to Kangwoon, and reacted one beat too late.

“…Me? You mean me?”

“Mm. You.”

The snake‑quick nod made Hohyun flinch. Of course, Amur’s real target wasn’t the fox himself, but the tiger hovering by his side like an unmovable guardian. A tiger with connections in the East, one whose appearance gave no hint of relation, whose very surname was different. From the outside, no one would ever guess the two were cousins.

Like the perfect stray puzzle piece slotting into the board, the fox provided a chance—but asking Kangwoon directly risked refusal. Asking Hohyun gave better odds, since wherever the fox went, the tiger was bound to follow. And indeed—even these past days, a single glance had Hohyun giving away a thousand things in his eyes. If he agreed, Kangwoon might trail along like an accidental bonus.

With the sweet smile of a hunter laying a snare, Amur continued soothingly:

“It’s nothing hard. Just go to the location we specify and show off your lovey‑dovey side with that big brother Beom—you’d only need to make it look like you’re joined at the hip.”

“…What?”

Where exactly? And how on earth does that help?

Confused, the fox tilted his head, while Kangwoon’s patience visibly snapped.

“Stop slyly playing games with him. You think I don’t see through you?”

“Well, I won’t pretend it’s pure as snow. But it is simple, I swear. Simply present yourselves in beast form, make an impression—let them bite the bait.”

The reasoning was easy enough to parse. If Kangwoon showed up with an extraordinary fox at his side, the “buyers” might stir with interest, yielding better information than a dead‑end interrogation. Kangwoon understood the logic—but agreeing to it was another matter entirely. He glared daggers at his cousin.

Before the two could lock horns further, Yuwol stepped in cleanly:

“Providing information is already significant help. Mr. Amur’s proposal should be dismissed. Contacting criminals directly is dangerous.”

On that at least, Hohyun agreed. Slavers were violent by trade—they struck first, asked nothing after. Of everyone in this room, he knew that best.

Yet… with Kangwoon and his cadre constantly at his side, even sleeping beside him some nights, and heavy beastmen all around at other times, how much more dangerous could it be to step into such a scheme? Danger was relative. The fox’s heart wavered.

Besides, hadn’t they just been told of still‑missing victims? If doing this small thing could help even a little, wasn’t it worth the risk? He couldn’t bring himself to say yes aloud, but his shining eyes betrayed him. Amur saw it immediately, mouth curling smug.

Closing the distance brazenly, he leaned shoulder to shoulder with the fox, ignoring space altogether. Kangwoon’s scowl deepened, dark and sharp. The pale tiger, however, pressed on:

“How’s this dangerous? You call it overprotection. He’s an adult—”

He stopped a beat, blinking at Hohyun’s boyish face. “…He is an adult, right? You’re not dating a minor, are you?”

He threw the dice, betting on his cousin at least not being a criminal.

The fox’s eyes sparkled instantly—being called an adult without even arguing for it! Youngest of five siblings, always treated like a child, even Kangwoon handled him like one instinctively. But here was someone affirming adult. That alone was enough to make him beam.

Still, Yuwol only shook his head firmly:

“Whether he appears adult or not, Mr. Hohyun is a civilian. That makes it too great a risk. The plan should be rejected.”

“Rejected? Look around! How could he be in danger with this one glued to his side?”

The “this one” clearly meant Kangwoon. The tiger’s tail twitched, eyes flashing with thinly veiled offense. But indeed, his intimidating presence only underscored Amur’s very point.

Unable to counter so blunt an image, Yuwol went silent. Amur tilted his head smugly, certain he’d cornered two out of three. Only Kangwoon remained—the final boss. And his folded arms, iron stance, practically radiated: Go on, try me.

Kangwoon didn’t waver under cousins pleading or prodding. At last, Amur clicked his tongue. It wouldn’t work. So he shifted gears. Turning his head, sighing heavily, he addressed the fox directly:

“Of course… if big brother says no, what choice do I have?”

The feigned defeated tone, heavy with manipulation, made Kangwoon snort in disgust. But still—

“No.” His response came flat, sharp.

“Why not!”

“If plans always went as expected, no one would ever use the word accident.”

Guardian to a three‑year‑old cub, Kangwoon knew better than anyone: life was made of unpredictable hazards. A moment’s lapse, a random coincidence, the smallest crack—that was all it took. And hadn’t this whole situation been born from “accidents” like Yuri stumbling on a stray fox? Too much had changed in less than a year. On anything safety‑related, he would not yield.

What, take a boy who trips over flat ground straight into traffickers’ den? Better put a toddler by a riverbank instead.

So he said no, and the fox’s bright eyes dimmed, his body slumping boneless against the chair. He didn’t argue—he never did—but his disappointment ached in the room.

Kangwoon’s chest tightened. How his sweet‑natured fox, usually so cheerful, must feel to wear such a weary look. With a heavy breath, he relented at last.

“…Fine. One time. Just once. After that, sink or swim on your own.”

“…!”

The air lit. The fox’s face lit. Amur’s grin all teeth.

Immediately, the Westerner threw arms around the fox, delighted.

“Thank you! I swear I’ll repay this debt with interest!”

But his grateful squeeze crushed the air from the smaller man’s lungs. Trembling inside the iron embrace, Hohyun squeaked inaudibly. His strength—! Bigger they were, stronger too.

The sharpest sound came from Kangwoon. In a blink he pried them apart, baring fangs, a guttural rumble bursting like a storm. The growl was so heavy it shook the table like exhaust from an engine.

Amur let go, placating, though clicking his tongue even as he backed off.