From the sleeve of the old man’s robe slid a short, eerie dagger—its hilt as long as a forearm, seemingly carved from bone. A wolf’s head was etched into the pommel, and the bde itself was only half the length of the hilt. He strolled toward the stray dog with its hind leg bitten clean through.

  As if it sensed its impending fate, the dog ceased its struggling, lying still on the ground. The old man grasped its muzzle with a withered, calloused hand and tilted its head upward. His other hand brought the bde forward—slow and steady—as he slid the dagger into the stray’s throat. A muffled whimper escaped the dog's held jaws, and its remaining hind leg twitched violently.

  He gave the hilt a twist, then pulled the blood-slick bde from the gushing wound. Taking out a white cloth, he carefully wiped the dagger clean, his touch as gentle as if tending to a lover.

  Finished, the old man picked up the dog’s corpse with one hand and began pushing a small cart with the other, ready to depart.

  “Sir, excuse me—” Hayami Reina spoke up quickly, hoping his small, childlike appearance might earn him a scrap of meat from the old man’s kill.

  “I could, yes,” the old man interrupted before Reina could finish, voice slow and gravelly. “But I see no reason to help you.”

  He knew exactly what the boy wanted. After all, what else would a ragged little stray be after, stopping a strange old man like himself—if not for the freshly killed dog in his hand?

  “There’s no such thing as kindness without reason. I traded rotting battlefield scraps to those mutts in exchange for this carcass. And you? What can you offer me in trade for a piece of its meat?” the old man asked again, sensing the boy might not understand.

  “I… I have nothing,” Reina said, disheartened. Truly, aside from the memories of a past life, he had nothing at all. He was no better than the dogs scavenging in the streets.

  “Perhaps… you can do something for this old man, who soon may not even be able to lift a bde,” the old man mused, his lips stretching into a crooked grin, yellowed teeth showing as he chuckled.

  “Please tell me,” Reina replied quickly. The flicker of hope rekindled in his eyes, dispelling some of the dull despair.

  “The other day, I came here to sell meat and was driven off with insults by one of the locals.” The old man jerked his chin toward the house Reina had begged at earlier. “Bring me his head. Make this old man smile, and perhaps—hehe—you’ll get the whole dog.”

  He cackled, waving the carcass in emphasis.

  Reina didn’t say another word. He simply shook his head, then turned and walked into the rainy darkness without hesitation or thought.

  If he had the ability to kill a grown man, then surely he could survive without having to beg some strange old man for scraps.

  “Is it that you won’t?” the old man’s voice called after him. “Or that you can’t?”

  “Both,” Reina replied ftly, not bothering to look back.

  To him, the old man was simply messing with him out of boredom. And if it really came down to murder for food—between a fit, healthy man and a half-dead old freak—it didn’t take a genius to pick a target.

  Then suddenly—Reina froze.

  Every muscle locked tight. Even his fingers refused to move. A wave of pure, primal fear washed over him—so intense it felt like death itself had pced a hand on his shoulder. Cold sweat soaked his forehead and palms.

  The old man’s voice whispered beside his ear, too close, too sudden—yet he hadn’t heard him move at all.

  “Every night I appear… the hungry strays who didn’t get their fill will gather for a hunt. And their favorite prey—can you guess? That’s right. Tender little things like you. Soft, weak, no cws, no fangs… Delicious.”

  And just like that, the tension in Reina’s body vanished. His knees buckled, and he colpsed to the ground, shaking uncontrolbly. That suffocating brush with death left him trembling from head to toe.

  He turned his head slowly—there was no sign of the old man.

  I should’ve known… That freak’s no ordinary man! Reina cursed inwardly.

  Those starving wild dogs had been in a frenzy, yet after eating the rotten meat, they hadn’t even looked at the old man—hadn’t dared touch him. That alone should’ve been a red fg!

  He’d never imagined supernatural forces existed in this world, so he’d dismissed the old man’s strangeness entirely.

  Wasting no more time, Reina forced himself to his feet and bolted toward the house from earlier.

  “Awoooo—!”

  Bang bang bang! Bang bang bang!He pounded the door with all his might, manners thrown aside.

  “Help! Please! Open the door! The dogs—THEY’RE GOING TO KILL ME!”

  But the door would never open again.

  Because inside was only a headless corpse, still bleeding out on the floor.

  “Awoo…” Reina turned toward the sound and saw them—the pack, charging at full speed. No time to think. He sprinted to the window and smmed his elbow into the gss.

  He was too small, too weak—it took several hits.

  Bang! Bang! Crack—shatter!The cheap gss finally broke, shards cutting into his arm and face, leaving streaks of blood.

  The dogs were almost upon him.

  Gritting his teeth, Reina ignored the broken gss still clinging to the window frame and threw himself inside. The jagged shards scraped his belly and thighs, sshing long trails of red.

  His hands hit the ground, nding hard on shattered gss. Pain shot through his palms, but adrenaline overrode it. He quickly wiped the blood-covered gss on his clothes and reached for the logging axe leaning by the door.

  That’s when he noticed the headless corpse—same clothes as the man who’d opened the door for him before.

  No time to process it.

  He gripped the axe tightly, its weight reassuring. This—this gave him a fighting chance.

  The dogs were at the window now.

  Eyes bloodshot, breath ragged, Reina’s grip on the axe tightened further.

  From now on… he was a beast too.

  And when beasts csh, only one leaves with a full belly.

  The battle had begun.

  The first to leap was a massive yellow-and-white hunting dog, nearly a meter tall. Even on all fours, its head reached Reina’s chest.

  It pounced at the window.

  Reina raised the axe high overhead.

  The dog showed no fear, unching into the house.

  “RAAAH!” Reina roared, adrenaline surging as he jumped and brought the axe crashing down—straight into the center of the beast’s skull.

  He’d put everything he had into that blow. The bde sank deep, cleaving into bone. The dog never even got the chance to yelp.

  One clean kill.

  Reina exhaled, heart pounding. He felt it again—that old confidence. The killer’s instinct. The sense that no matter how many came, so long as he had an axe and ground to defend, he could butcher them all.

  Beasts are still just beasts. With the right weapon, he could kill every st one of them.

  He reached for the axe to pull it free—

  Huh?

  Why won’t it budge?

  The axe was stuck. It had lodged itself at an awkward angle deep in the thick skull, and Reina couldn't get it loose.

  Without the axe, he was no longer a beast.

  Just a stray again.

  “Grrrrr…” The other dogs poured in, baring their fangs, growling low.

  The fight was over.

  Reina backed away, refusing to turn his back to them.

  Each step he took, the pack advanced, tightening the circle—breaking him down.

  Thud.His shaking legs tripped over the corpse behind him, and he fell hard onto his backside.

  The dogs pounced.

  Jaws dripping with foam, teeth snapping down—straight at his face.