Chapter 10: Our First Mission—To Hunt, and to Step on Landmines
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Not my choice—the master’s orders.
“Gather at five sharp,” said the wolf guard leading our team, face taut as bark. “Whether you come back alive… depends on your luck.”
I stood up yawning. “Luck we’ve got. Breakfast, not so much.”
Firewood shoved a shriveled flatbread into my hand. “Stuff your mouth before you stuff your grave.”
The hunting ground was west of the camp—a closed-off forest filled with rabid wolves, beast-gone-mad werefolk, and discarded low-level rogue werewolves.
In simpler terms: the Wolf Clan’s garbage dump.
“They sent you here to see if there’s any… ‘extra mouths’ worth cutting,” Cold-Faced Pretty Boy said flatly.
I nodded while tying my wrist guards. “Sure, but they didn’t expect—these ‘mouths’ got teeth now.”
Raccoon raised a sharpened stick. “I spent all night carving this!”
Amy held up a small curved blade. “Swap with me. Your stick’s longer.”
Firewood clutched a grubby cloth. “I brought my mom’s lucky charm.”
I stared. “…That’s her foot rag.”
“Exactly. Extra spiritual.”
As we stepped into the hunting zone, the air grew damp and cold. Fog still clung to the trees like spiderwebs. It wasn’t even fully light out.
I turned to my team. “Remember, stay together. Don’t rush in if you see something. We’re not hunters. We’re recon.”
Raccoon whispered, “Boss… can we actually win?”
I smiled faintly. “Winning’s not the point.”
“The point is—” I pulled out a scrap of cloth inked with hand-sketched paths and dropped it onto the ground. “I want to see what the master’s really hiding here.”
The night I died in my past life, my mother had laughed coldly:
“You think they’re testing you? No. They’re cleaning house—removing a few eyesores while they’re at it.”
Back then, I didn’t understand. Now I do.
This isn’t a trial.
It’s a trap.
But this time, I came prepared.
I’m not the naive fool I was.
I can lay traps. I can set bait. I can play the long game.
This time, I’ll show them—whoever treats us like cannon fodder better be careful they’re not the ones blown to pieces.
Suddenly, rustling from the bushes ahead.
“Something’s there,” Firewood hissed.
Immediately, we fell into formation, surrounding the sound. I signed, hold steady.
Then I turned. “Cold-Face, you’re up!”
He blinked. “Still injured.”
“…You’re our technical advisor,” I deadpanned. “Any advice?”
He narrowed his eyes. “That’s a frenzied lower-class werewolf. Fast, but uncoordinated. Poor eyesight, relies on scent. Dirt pits will slow it.”
“Got it!” I turned. “Raccoon! Dig!”
Raccoon: “This is a stick, not a shovel!”
Amy tossed him her knife. “Dig with that!”
Three seconds later—
“It’s coming!” Firewood shrieked.
The beast burst from the fog—eyes milky white, mouth dripping foam and blood.
I rolled to the side and shouted, “Pitfall!”
SPLASH!
It actually fell in.
Three seconds of stunned silence—then an explosion of cheers.
“We caught it!!”
“Our first hunt was a success!!”
I wiped my brow and turned to Cold-Face. “Not bad, consultant.”
He smirked faintly. “Advising. Within job scope.”
“Then I’m giving you a raise.”
“You never paid me.”
“I’ll give you a badge.”
“Decline.”
“Then a new title.”
He raised a brow. “What now?”
“Gray Tower’s First—Wolf Den Strategist.”
He stared at me for a moment. Then—unexpectedly—he laughed.
“…You’re such a pain.”
But that smile on his face—was the most real one since we met.
By the end of the day, we had caught three crazed wolves. We tagged them and delivered them to the inspection zone.
The wolf guard who led us out had clearly expected to drag back corpses.
When he saw us—alive, intact, gear in hand—his face twisted.
“You… how did you do this?!”
I blinked. “Unity is strength. Intelligence is our torch.”
“Cut the crap—did you cheat?!”
I looked him dead in the eye. “We used our brains. I know that’s unfamiliar for some.”
That night, we were allowed to rest at a small outpost near the hunting grounds.
Firewood roasted two chunks of wolf meat and bit in. “Mmm… tastes like victory.”
Amy cradled a bone. “Now this is a meal.”
Raccoon chewed contentedly. “We’re the hardest-working wolves in the business.”
I watched them laughing around the fire and realized—
I hadn’t just changed my fate.
I’d changed their hearts.
We, the ones meant to be invisible, stepped into the clearing and said:
“We are here.”
