Chapter 16
From Today, a Hunter
In this world, it seemed everyone woke up early. He had expected someone to come in the morning, but not this early.
Juhwan nodded to the old hunter, signaling that he would come out shortly.
He didn’t invite him inside. Thinking about times when he might not be home, he didn’t want to create a habit of letting strangers enter a house where only a woman and a child lived.
‘Still… that smile is suspicious.’
As he turned around, Juhwan glanced at the old man. The old man’s smile looked exactly like the expression of a head of HR during a salary negotiation.
When he entered the house, Lizzy was busily preparing something. He had come in to say he was leaving, but the atmosphere didn’t allow it.
She was moving around urgently, and when she saw him, she quickly approached and grabbed his arm. Her slender fingers tightened as she pulled him along.
Following her, he sat down on the bed beside the hearth. She immediately resumed moving busily.
Lizzy had placed a flat iron plate over the fire and was stir-frying oats. Finely chopped wolf meat was mixed in.
Next to the hearth was a small lump of half-melted fat. It was cut wolf fat. He had thought it was for lamp oil, but it was actually used for cooking. The smell was rich and savory.
When it seemed nearly done, Lizzy pressed the rice flat onto the iron plate so it would cook evenly. While it cooked, she poured warm water into a leather flask.
Seeing the flask, it didn’t seem like she meant for him to eat before leaving—it looked like she was packing him a lunch.
‘Nice.’
His heart warmed at the unexpected lunchbox. Since middle school until now, aside from restaurant ladies, no one had cooked for him. Most of the time, it had been convenience store meals.
‘Well, those were good too.’
He especially liked triangle kimbap. Perfect as a drinking snack.
Juhwan sat quietly, watching Lizzy’s busy hands. The old hunter was waiting outside, so he should hurry—but he wanted to sit like this forever.
Across the fire, beside Lizzy, Dorothy sat with her mouth open, watching the fried rice. A string of drool hung from her lips.
Suddenly, Lizzy met his eyes. She smiled.
The amount of oats he had seen yesterday wasn’t much. He wondered if it was okay to cook it like this instead of stretching it into porridge.
Maybe she was cooking only for him, while she and Dorothy would eat porridge.
As if she understood his thoughts, Lizzy lightly gestured toward Dorothy and the fried rice—telling him not to worry.
It seemed finished. Lizzy packed the fried oats into a round wooden container, pressing it down firmly until full. She didn’t close the lid yet, probably waiting for it to cool.
She stood and went to the corner, picking up a leather shoulder bag.
It had been in the bundle of belongings. It was very worn—likely something the previous hunter of this house had used.
Maybe all hunters carried something like that. That’s probably why the villagers had returned it.
But giving back something they had taken… it was probably a debt he would have to repay later.
‘Come to think of it, those villagers are pretty nasty.’
While Juhwan watched silently, Lizzy hesitated, then packed a knife in a leather sheath, a small cloth like a handkerchief, and something like a rope into the bag.
She must have been thinking of what a hunter would need. The knife made sense, but the rope? What was he supposed to use that for? Lizzy was still rummaging through items in the corner, her expression very serious.
For some reason, that seriousness looked cute, so Juhwan watched for a moment before turning away.
His gaze fell on the iron plate.
‘As expected…’
There was very little rice left after packing the lunch. It seemed enough for Dorothy, but not enough for Lizzy.
Juhwan quietly took some rice from the container, placed it back onto the plate, then closed the lid before Lizzy returned.
Dorothy’s eyes sparkled. She slurped up her drool and muttered:
“Meat.”
Lizzy, approaching with the bag, heard it and giggled.
When he handed her the lunchbox, she carefully wrapped it in a square cloth, tied it, and placed it in the leather bag. Then she handed it to him shyly and said:
“######.”
It probably meant, “Have a safe trip.”
“######?”
When Juhwan mimicked her, she corrected him slightly.
“####.”
“I’ll be back.”
When he repeated it, Lizzy smiled brightly and said again:
“Have a safe trip.”
Dorothy hurried over and stood beside Lizzy. Looking up at Juhwan with wide eyes, she shouted loudly:
“Have a safe trip!”
Startled by her own voice, her eyes widened. It was probably her first time saying it.
Juhwan placed his large hand on her head.
“I’ll be back, Dorothy.”
As he turned to leave, Dorothy’s voice rang out again behind him:
“Have a safe trip!”
He turned back. Dorothy was waving both hands energetically.
Lizzy stood quietly beside her, watching him. Though he likely wouldn’t hunt yet, she still looked worried.
This was a problem. He didn’t want to leave home. The wife and daughter he had gained yesterday were too adorable.
The old hunter’s name was Gus.
Gus took Juhwan up the mountain and had him observe closely.
Juhwan stood on a narrow trail as instructed, watching Gus walk.
At first, it looked like ordinary walking. But on closer inspection, Gus’s back and shoulders were slightly hunched forward. His legs weren’t fully straight either—they were slightly bent, like a gorilla in human form.
Gus walked ahead, then returned, turned again, and stomped lightly—indicating Juhwan should watch his feet this time.
Juhwan nodded and looked down.
But all he could see were shoes. How could there be a difference? With some doubt, he kept watching.
At first, nothing stood out. It just looked like walking.
But Gus patiently repeated the same motion again and again.
Eventually, Juhwan noticed something: the force in each step was different.
Sometimes footprints were deep, sometimes nonexistent.
On the hard winter ground, leaving footprints wasn’t easy—so making deep ones was even harder.
‘Is this some martial arts footwork or something?’
But this wasn’t a martial arts world… right?
As Juhwan followed the path, he studied the ground carefully.
Even the shapes of footprints differed.
Some were straight, but others looked like they were pointing sideways, even though the trail itself was straight.
If seen individually, they could mislead someone about direction.
Gus seemed to realize Juhwan understood. He approached happily and patted his waist—probably meant to pat his back but couldn’t reach.
Not being able to communicate was frustrating.
Gus demonstrated repeatedly, and Juhwan grasped the general idea: distribute your body’s weight while walking, and when leaving footprints, apply force to the lower body.
Juhwan practiced, mimicking Gus’s actions and words.
Stop. Follow. Quiet. Bird. Careful…
He memorized each word.
Perhaps due to urgency, the words stuck easily. If studying had been this easy, he would have ranked first in school.
Gus led him around the mountain, pointing things out.
He traced the terrain with his hands and made Juhwan touch trees.
At first it made no sense, but gradually Juhwan realized—he was learning the terrain.
Even similar-looking trees could be distinguished by their fallen leaves.
Despite everything, Gus still gave off that HR-manager-like vibe—something hidden behind his smile.
But he was diligent, patiently teaching step by step.
Time flew by. It might already be past noon. His stomach growled loudly.
They crouched between trees to eat.
Gus took out dried meat and water from his leather bag, gestured for Juhwan to eat, then started eating.
Juhwan took out his lunchbox. A fragrant smell spread.
Gus frowned and shook his head, pointing at the lunchbox.
Juhwan immediately understood.
‘My lunch…’
His shoulders slumped.
But sitting in the forest, he quickly realized why.
The smell was too strong—too artificial for the wild. It spread easily, alerting animals.
This wasn’t food for a hunter.
Juhwan stared at the sky through the trees, holding the lunchbox.
The smell drifted upward, reaching birds, which began chirping.
Even wolves could probably smell this from far away.
‘What do I do with my lunch…’
Gus chuckled.
“####.”
Probably something like: It’s not worth being that upset over a lunchbox.
But he didn’t understand—this was a man whose taste standards were shaped by convenience store meals.
Still, Juhwan smiled a little.
Gus hadn’t stopped him from bringing it. Maybe because today was just training—not actual hunting.
And experiencing it firsthand was faster than explaining.
Juhwan ate the fried rice reluctantly.
It was simple—just lightly salted—but incredibly delicious.
‘From tomorrow, I’ll have to eat dried meat too…’
…But they didn’t have any.
They were still newly settled—no time to prepare jerky.
‘Then… do I starve? Or eat raw grains?’
He felt a bit depressed.
