Five years passed after that.
Eight years old.
I learned later that an eight-year-old human brat living among a pack of savage frost wolves was not considered normal.
Of course, I was not the leader.
Their hierarchy was strict.
If one had to put it into words, I was something like the field captain.
But they acknowledged me.
When my axe took the lead, the wolves followed and drove in the prey.
On the snowy mountain, I was no longer alone.
I did not sleep by myself in the snow.
I shared warmth with my brothers and gazed up at the constellations of the snowfields.
But no matter how abnormal an existence I was at eight years old, when one of my pack brothers had his head burst open beneath the massive paw of a snow bear,
it was only natural to swear revenge while breathing in the scent of his blood.
“Awooooooo!”
When the leader declared vengeance with a mournful howl, I was the first to charge out with my axe.
“Awooooo!”
And so we set out to find the snow bear.
Vowing to flay its hide and use it to cover our dead brother’s grave.
Kwaaaaang!
The snow bear’s roar tore through the blizzard.
Each time its enormous forepaw struck the ground, the earth trembled as though an avalanche had come crashing down.
“Grrrr!”
But we did not retreat.
Thud!
My axe dug into its thick hide.
“Kieeeek!”
At the same time, my wolf brothers tore into its ankles and nape.
Crunch.
The sound of bones being chewed.
Slash!
The sound of flesh ripping away and blood gushing like a fountain.
It was a fierce struggle to the death.
With a single swing of its forepaw, my brothers were sent flying like fallen leaves, but we did not withdraw our teeth or my axe until its breath was cut off.
Thud!
At last, the giant snow bear collapsed, vomiting blood.
We had won.
But the price was harsh.
The snowfield was strewn not only with the snow bear’s corpse, but also with the bodies of the brothers who had fought beside me.
We buried our departed kin in the cold snow.
Revenge was over, but what remained was not a cheer of victory, only the sound of the bitter wind.
It was like my first memory.
Alone.
Again.
I had slit the snow bear’s throat and was dragging my blood-soaked body away without strength.
Perhaps it was because the tension had left me.
Or perhaps my beastly senses had dulled.
Clank!
“Ghhh...!”
A horrible tearing sound bit into my ankle.
It was a bear trap hidden among the snow-covered brush.
Its sharp iron teeth tore into my ankle.
Crack.
The sound of bone being crushed struck my eardrums.
An ordinary child would have screamed and wailed.
But I shut my mouth like a beast.
Because I knew instinctively that the moment I screamed, my location would be exposed and I would become prey.
I crouched in the snow and licked the ankle caught in the trap with my tongue.
The fishy taste of blood.
Pain turned my mind white.
My eyes, on the contrary, burned red.
‘Who is it?’
It did not matter who had set the trap.
A human hunter.
Or a beast drawn by the scent of blood.
Whatever came near me, I would bite it to death.
“Grrrr....”
A beast’s threatening growl leaked from deep in my throat.
It was then.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A massive shadow approached through the blizzard.
A giant man with a mammoth skull resting on his shoulder and a bear hide draped over him.
A physique less like a human than a walking calamity on two legs.
The man looked back and forth between me, caught in the trap, and the corpse of the snow bear I had killed, then stroked his chin.
“Well now. Looks like I’m one step late.”
The man’s gaze rested on the snow bear’s head.
“I was going to give that skull to my little girl as a birthday present. Someone beat me to it.”
He smacked his lips as if regretful.
Then, looking at me growling in the trap, he gave a faint laugh.
“Hey, wolf. Mind yielding it to this old man?”
“Grrrr...!”
Instead of answering, I adjusted my grip on my axe.
Yield, my ass.
It was my prey.
Dragging my mangled leg still caught in the trap, I charged at him.
I’ll kill him.
Seeing that killing intent, the giant man grinned broadly.
“What a temper.”
Thud!
A heavy impact struck my solar plexus.
“Gah...!”
My breath caught in my throat, and my vision blacked out in an instant.
At the final moment before my consciousness snapped, I faintly heard the man mutter to himself.
“...If I bring this back, will she like it?”
Crackle, crackle.
The sound of firewood burning.
I could not hear the sound of the flesh-flaying icy wind.
When I opened my eyes, I saw an unfamiliar sight.
To me, a ceiling meant a cave where no light entered.
It was my first time seeing the inside of a giant tent made of animal hides—especially a ceiling where light shone from below to above.
My body was lying on soft fur.
My ankle, which had been caught in the trap, was smeared with foul-smelling herbs.
“You awake?”
At the familiar voice, I turned my head and saw the giant man who had picked me up tearing into meat.
He looked at me and grinned.
“Tough bastard. Even with a broken bone, you wouldn’t let go of that axe.”
“......”
“I like your eyes. I’m going to take you as my son.”
He laughed heartily and chewed up the meat, bone and all, before swallowing it.
Son?
Family?
To me, raised in the wild among wolves, they were words I could not understand.
But instinct knew.
They were probably words similar to brother.
This place was warm.
And that huge male had no intention of harming me.
And above all...
He was stronger than me.
He was my leader.
“I am Gorgon, chieftain of the Winterclaw tribe.”
“Grrrrrr.”
“Call me Father.”
And later, I did call him Father.
Just then, the entrance to the tent was flung open roughly, and someone came in along with the cold wind.
“Dad! Are you really going to make me a bear-head helmet?”
Short silver hair, and icy blue eyes that seemed to have cut out the daytime sky of the snowy mountain itself.
A girl around my age.
Her eyes were filled with expectation.
Gorgon grinned as he chewed his meat.
“Instead, I brought back the one who slit that bear’s throat.”
“......What?”
The girl’s gaze fixed on me.
The moment her expectation turned to disappointment, her brow crumpled sharply.
“What’s this scrawny thing?”
Scrawny?
At that moment, lightning struck through my mind.
The human language that had until now sounded no different from the cries of beasts suddenly became clear “meaning” and lodged itself in my brain.
It felt as though a sense I had long forgotten was coming back to life.
My ability to use language as a human forced its way through instinct and awakened.
‘Scrawny.’
No strength.
Pathetically weak.
The dictionary meaning of that word and its subtle nuance gouged straight into my pride.
How dare she call me scrawny?
In that instant, the thread of reason snapped.
I had not yet learned human sociality.
What stood before my eyes was not a cute girl, but merely a competitor baring her teeth after trespassing into my territory.
An enemy aiming for the place beside the leader.
“Grrrr!”
Like a beast, I kicked off on all fours and launched myself toward the nape of her neck.
I’ll kill her.
At the time, I was still a little beast, so I attacked the chieftain’s daughter.
It could not be helped.
I was a black-haired beast.
However.
Thwack!
“Kek!”
My body spun splendidly through the air before being slammed into the floor.
What just happened?
Before I could come to my senses, something heavy pressed down on my back.
The girl had twisted my arm and subdued me, looking down with cold eyes.
“What kind of untrained mutt thinks he can lunge at me?”
Overwhelming force.
I realized instinctively.
This female... was strong.
“Let... let go...!”
“Sit.”
When she put strength into my twisted arm, my scream turned into a suppressed groan.
“Yelp...!”
“Good boy.”
Only then did she let me go.
Kara, daughter of the chieftain of the Winterclaw tribe.
The girl dusted off her dirtied hands, then tossed me a leftover chunk of meat.
“You can take a hit. Eat. You have to live if you want to come at me again.”
I clutched my numb shoulder and glared at Kara, then picked up the meat that had fallen to the floor.
If I eat it, I lose.
I lose.
To that female...
But.
Hunger was greater.
And above all, a strange sense of rivalry rose within me at those sky-blue eyes staring straight at me.
‘I won’t lose.’
Just you wait. Next time, I’ll be on top.
As if to show her, I tore into the meat like a beast.
A warm fire, the smell of meat, and two pairs of eyes looking at me.
For the first time, the wild wolf cub entered the fence.
Of course, at the very bottom of the hierarchy.
“Dad.”
Kara, who had been tearing into meat, suddenly asked.
“By the way, what’s this mutt’s name?”
“Name?”
“Yeah. If we’re going to raise him, he needs a name so we can order him around.”
Gorgon stroked his beard and fell into thought for a moment.
The boy had lunged at him while caught in a trap, and had hunted a snow bear together with a wolf pack.
A hard case among hard cases.
He grinned and opened his mouth.
“Varg.”
“Varg?”
“That’s right. In our tribe’s ancient tongue, it means ‘the wolf that will devour the snowfields.’”
I tried to be somewhat moved by that grand meaning.
However.
“Dad, don’t lie.”
Kara clicked her tongue as if he were pathetic.
“It just means ‘wolf’ in the ancient tongue. Why are you adding things?”
“Urgh....”
At his daughter’s sharp correction, Gorgon cleared his throat and averted his eyes.
His scheme to dress it up grandly and look impressive had been exposed.
“You already learned the ancient tongue from Granny Baba?”
At Gorgon’s awkwardness, Kara shook her head.
This was the moment my name, “Varg,” was given to me.
* * *
After that day, the process of becoming a member of the Winterclaw tribe was harsh.
Hunting?
Easy.
I had been doing it since I was three.
Combat?
Fun.
They even praised me and gave me food.
Pant, pant.
The problem broke out somewhere unexpected.
The tent of the tribe’s greatest shaman, the old crone Baba.
In that place reeking with the stench of incense, I was receiving the most terrible torture of my life.
“Now, read after me. This is the Imperial word ‘apple.’”
“......”
I blankly looked down at the parchment pointed to by the wrinkled old crone’s finger.
My hand, holding a quill lighter than an axe handle, trembled.
I would rather fight a snow bear barehanded.
But beside me, the overseer Kara was glaring.
“What are you doing, not writing? Dad said to make you into a person.”
“Ugh....”
I forced my gaze back onto the parchment.
A red circle drawn on it.
And beneath it, the squiggly Imperial letters.
「apple」
It was the moment I saw those letters.
Zing.
Deep within my mind, a sealed fragment of memory sprang up.
As though through association, a strange illusion overlapped the parchment.
A logo shaped like an apple with a bite taken out of it.
And a smooth, rectangular black slab.
“Uh...?”
As if possessed, I muttered.
“ApoR... smartphone...?”
What came out of my mouth was neither the tribe’s language nor the Imperial tongue.
But that word dug through my subconscious, one thing leading to another, until my tongue was rolling with speech.
Apple...
iPhone...
Installment contract...
Unlimited data...
“Youdube... Netclicks...”
The apple drawing on the parchment floated up, and before I knew it, it transformed into a 5G plan bill, circling before my eyes.
The taste of civilization I missed.
The sweet scent of capitalism.
And even the behind-the-scenes story of the CEO who could have lived, but stubbornly missed the treatment window and died.
I stared blankly into space, my hand gripping the quill drawing a rectangular screen in the air.
“Algorithm... shorts... next episode...”
“Has this idiot lost his mind?”
Smack!
“Aaagh!”
An icebolt fell on my forehead.
When I came to my senses, Kara had just struck my forehead with the quill.
The illusion vanished, and the gloomy ceiling of the tent came back into view.
Kara clicked her tongue with a pathetic expression.
“What are you mumbling about? Idiot Varg. Aren’t you going to focus?”
“No, that’s not—”
“If that’s not it, then wipe your drool. You’re disgusting.”
I hurriedly wiped my mouth.
It was wet.
Damn it.
Just how obsessed with smartphones had I been in my previous life?
To think I drooled over a single drawing of an apple.
“Write it again. If you don’t memorize all of this today, no meat for dinner.”
At Kara’s threat, I took up the quill again.
Finding my previous self was important, but dinner meat was more important right now.
In crooked handwriting, I wrote down “apple.”
But in one corner of my mind, the bitten apple logo was still faintly shining.
That was the first fragment of memory I very faintly tasted before I realized this world was “inside a novel.”