Chapter 1
Five years have passed since then.
Eight years old.
I later learned that an eight-year-old human child living among a pack of savage frost wolves was not considered normal.
Of course, I wasn't their leader.
Their hierarchy was strict.
If I had to put a name to my position, I was their chief enforcer.
But they acknowledged me.
When my ax led the way, the wolves followed and drove the prey toward us.
I was no longer alone in the snowy mountains.
I no longer slept alone in the snow.
Together with my brothers, I shared our body heat and gazed at the constellations over the snowfield.
But no matter how unusual I was at eight, when one of my brothers in the pack had his head crushed beneath the paw of a giant snow bear,
sniffing that blood and swearing revenge would have been a perfectly normal reaction.
“Awoooooo-!”
When the leader declared revenge with a mournful howl, I was the first to grab my ax and charge out.
“Awooooo-!”
And so, we set out to find the snow bear.
We vowed to skin the beast and use its hide to cover our dead brother's grave.
“Roooooar-!”
The snow bear's roar tore through the blizzard.
The ground shook as though an avalanche had struck every time its massive paw slammed down.
“Grrrr!”
But we did not retreat.
“Wham-!”
My ax dug into its thick hide.
“Kieeeek!”
At the same time, my wolf brothers sank their teeth into its ankles and the back of its neck.
Crunch.
The sound of bones being chewed.
“Slaaash!”
The sound of flesh being torn away as blood gushed like a fountain.
It was a fierce battle.
A single swipe of its paw sent my brothers flying like fallen leaves, but we did not stop biting or swinging our axes until the beast stopped breathing.
“Thud-!”
At last, the giant snow bear collapsed, vomiting blood.
We had won.
But the price was brutal.
The snowfield was strewn with not only the snow bear's corpse, but also the corpses of the brothers who had fought alongside me.
We buried our fallen kindred in the cold snow.
Our revenge was over, but all that remained was not the roar of victory, only the sound of the biting wind.
Just like my first memory.
I was alone.
Again.
I was on my way back, dragging my blood-soaked body after tearing out the snow bear's throat.
Was it because my tension had finally eased?
Or because my beastly senses had grown dull?
Clank-!
“Grrr...!”
A horrible snapping sound tore into my ankle.
It was a bear trap hidden among the snow-covered bushes.
Its sharp iron teeth bit into my ankle.
Crack.
The sound of bone splintering struck my eardrums.
An ordinary child would have screamed and wailed.
But I clamped my mouth shut like a beast.
I instinctively knew that the moment I screamed, my position would be exposed and I would become prey.
I crouched in the snow and licked the ankle caught in the trap.
The metallic taste of blood.
The pain turned my mind white.
Instead, my eyes burned red.
‘Who?’
I didn't care who had set the trap.
Whether it was a human hunter.
Or a beast drawn by the smell of blood.
I would bite to death anything that approached me.
“Grrrr....”
A beast's threatening growl leaked from deep in my throat.
That was when it happened.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A massive shadow approached through the blizzard.
A giant of a man with a mammoth skull resting on his shoulder and a bear hide draped over him.
His size made him look less like a human and more like a walking disaster on two legs.
The man looked back and forth between me, caught in the trap, and the snow bear I had killed, then stroked his chin.
“Damn. I was a step too late.”
The man's gaze settled on the snow bear's head.
“I was going to give that beast's skull to my little girl for her birthday. Looks like you beat me to it.”
He clicked his tongue regretfully.
Then he looked at me, snarling in the trap, and gave a faint grin.
“Hey, wolf. How about giving it to this old man?”
“Grrrr...!”
Instead of answering, I tightened my grip on my ax.
Like hell I was giving it up.
It was my prey.
Dragging my mangled leg caught in the trap, I charged at him.
Kill.
The massive man grinned when he saw the killing intent in my eyes.
“What a temper.”
“Wham-!”
A heavy impact struck my solar plexus.
“Kuh...!”
My breath caught, and my vision went black in an instant.
At the final moment before my consciousness faded, I faintly heard the man's mutter.
“...If I bring this back, will she like it?”
Crackle, crackle.
The sound of firewood burning.
I couldn't hear the sound of the knife-edged wind.
When I opened my eyes, I saw an unfamiliar sight.
I was used to a ceiling that was a lightless cave.
This was the first time I had seen the ceiling of a massive animal-hide tent, lit from below.
My body was lying on soft fur.
The ankle caught in the trap had been smeared with a foul-smelling medicinal herb.
“Are you awake?”
I turned my head at the familiar voice and saw the massive man who had picked me up tearing into some meat.
He gave me a wide grin.
“Tough little bastard. Even with a broken bone, you wouldn't let go of your ax.”
“......”
“I like your eyes. I think I'll take you as my son.”
He laughed heartily and chewed through the meat, bones and all.
Son?
Family?
They were words I couldn't understand, having grown up in the wild among wolves.
But instinct knew what they meant.
They were probably words similar to brother.
This place is warm.
And that massive male has no intention of harming me.
And more than anything...
He is stronger than me.
He is my leader.
“I am Gorgon, chief of the Winterclaw Tribe.”
“Grrrrrr.”
“Call me Father.”
And in the years to come, I did call him Father.
At that moment, the tent entrance was flung open, and someone entered with a gust of cold air.
“Dad! You're really going to make me a bear-head helmet?”
Silver bobbed hair and icy blue eyes, as though the daytime sky over the snow mountains had been cut out and set into them.
She was a girl about my age.
Her eyes were brimming with eager anticipation.
Gorgon grinned as he chewed his meat.
“Instead, I brought you the one who tore out that bear's throat.”
“......What?”
The girl's gaze locked onto me.
The moment her anticipation turned to disappointment, her brow furrowed deeply.
“What's this scrawny thing?”
Scrawny?
At that moment, lightning struck my mind.
The human language that had sounded no different from the cries of beasts until then suddenly took on clear ‘meaning’ and lodged itself in my brain.
It felt as though a sense I had forgotten for a long time had come back to life.
My ability to use language as a human awoke, forcing its way through my instincts.
‘Scrawny.’
Without strength.
Pathetically weak.
The dictionary meaning of the word, along with its subtle nuance, drove straight into my pride.
How dare she call me scrawny?
In that instant, the thread of reason snapped.
I had yet to learn human social behavior.
The thing before my eyes was not a cute girl, but merely a rival who had invaded my territory and bared her teeth at me.
An enemy seeking the place beside the leader.
“Grrrr!”
Like a beast, I kicked off on all fours and launched myself at her neck.
Kill.
Back then, I was still a beast, so I attacked the chief's daughter.
It couldn't be helped.
Because I was a black-haired beast.
But.
“Whack!”
“Kek!”
My body spun once spectacularly through the air before crashing into the floor.
What had happened?
Before I could even regain my senses, something heavy pressed down on my back.
The girl had twisted my arm behind me and pinned me down, looking down at me with cold eyes.
“What makes an untrained mutt think it can attack?”
Overwhelming force.
I instinctively realized.
This female... was strong.
“Let... me go...!”
“Sit.”
When she put more strength into my twisted arm, my scream turned into a muffled groan.
“Yelp...!”
“Good.”
Only then did she let me go.
Kara, daughter of the chief of the Winterclaw Tribe.
The girl dusted off her dirt-covered hands and tossed me a leftover chunk of meat.
“You've got a tough hide. Eat. You have to stay alive if you're going to attack me again.”
I clutched my numb shoulder and glared at Kara before picking up the meat from the floor.
If I ate, I would lose.
I would lose.
To that female...
But.
My hunger was greater.
And more than anything, the sky-blue eyes staring straight at me stirred a strange sense of rivalry.
‘I won't lose.’
Just wait. Next time, I'll be on top.
I tore into the meat like a beast, deliberately putting on a show.
Warm fire, the smell of meat, and two pairs of eyes watching me.
A wild wolf cub had entered the enclosure for the first time.
Of course, at the very bottom of the hierarchy.
“Dad.”
Kara, who had been tearing into her meat, suddenly asked,
“But what's this mutt's name?”
“Name?”
“Yeah. If we're keeping him, he needs a name so we can put him to work.”
Gorgon stroked his beard and fell into thought for a moment.
The boy had charged at me while caught in a trap and hunted a snow bear with a pack of wolves.
The fiercest of the fierce.
He grinned and opened his mouth.
“Varg.”
“Varg?”
“Yes. In our tribe's ancient tongue, it means ‘a wolf that chews up the snowy plains.’”
I tried to be suitably moved by the grand meaning.
But.
“Dad, don't lie.”
Kara clicked her tongue as though he were pathetic.
“It just means ‘wolf’ in the ancient tongue. Why are you dressing it up?”
“Ngh....”
Gorgon coughed awkwardly and looked away under his daughter's sharp criticism.
His attempt to dress it up and show off had been exposed.
“Have you already learned the ancient tongue from Granny Baba?”
Kara shook her head at Gorgon's awkwardness.
This was the moment my name, 「Varg」, was born.
* * *
From that day on, the process of becoming a member of the Winterclaw Tribe was brutal.
Hunting?
Easy.
I'd been doing it since I was three.
Combat?
Fun.
They even praised me and gave me food.
Huff, huff.
The problem came from a completely unexpected direction.
The tent of Baba, the tribe's supreme shaman.
Inside that place, where the stench of incense filled the air, I was undergoing the most horrible torture of my life.
“Now, repeat after me. This is the Imperial word for ‘apple.’”
“......”
I stared blankly down at the parchment pointed to by Granny's wrinkled finger.
The hand holding a quill lighter than an ax handle trembled.
It would be better to fight a snow bear barehanded.
But beside me, Kara, my overseer, was glaring at me.
“Why aren't you writing? Dad said you have to become human.”
“Ugh....”
I forcibly fixed my gaze on the parchment.
A red circle drawing.
And the twisting Imperial letters written beneath it.
「Apple」
It was the moment I saw that word.
Zap.
A fragment of a sealed memory sprang up from deep within my mind.
As though triggered by association, a strange vision overlapped the parchment.
A bitten apple-shaped logo.
And a sleek, square black slab.
“Huh...?”
I muttered as if entranced.
“ApoR…. Smartphone...?”
What burst from my mouth belonged neither to the tribe's language nor the Empire's language.
But that word dug through my subconscious, leading to more words until I could roll them off my tongue.
Apple...
iPhone...
Contract installments...
Unlimited data...
“Yudube... Netclicks...”
The apple drawing on the parchment floated around before transforming into a 5G plan bill that hovered before my eyes.
The taste of civilization I missed.
The sweet scent of capitalism.
And even the backstory of a CEO who could have lived but stubbornly missed the window for treatment and died.
I stared blankly into space, drawing a square screen in the air with the hand holding the quill.
“Algorithm... shorts... next chapter...”
“Has he lost it?”
Smack!
“Aah!”
An icy thunderbolt fell on my forehead.
When I came to my senses, Kara had just smacked me on the forehead with the quill.
The vision disappeared, and the drab canvas ceiling came back into view.
Kara clicked her tongue with a look of utter disbelief.
“What are you muttering about? Stupid Varg. Aren't you going to concentrate?”
“No, that's not it....”
“If it's not that, then what? Wipe your drool. It's disgusting.”
I hurriedly wiped the corner of my mouth.
It was damp.
Damn it.
Just how obsessed with smartphones had I been in my previous life?
I was drooling over nothing more than a picture of an apple.
“Write it again. If you haven't memorized all of this by tonight, you don't get any meat for dinner.”
At Kara's threat, I adjusted my grip on the quill and started again.
Recovering my past-life self was important, but for now, dinner meat was more important.
I wrote ‘apple’ in crooked letters.
But in a corner of my mind, the bitten apple logo continued to glow faintly.
That was the first fragment of memory I had faintly tasted before realizing that this world was ‘inside a novel.’