C7 Sell Wolf

As the late summer heat lingered, the field's soil offered a refreshing coolness in contrast to the warm air.

"Awoo! Awoo!"

Seeking relief, the little Wind Spirit Wolf tumbled in the mud, its once white fur now a muddied black, making it look more like a small earthy dog to the unsuspecting eye.

"Little buddy, can you quit your frolicking for a moment?" Rinn, perched atop a mound of rice, surveyed his shredded clothes with a wry smile. "After all the injuries I've endured for you, you're still in the mood to be playful? Shouldn't you be offering me some sort of repayment by now?"

"Awoo! Awoo!" The wolf pup responded with an excited howl, leaping onto Rinn's lap and incessantly licking a wound on his side.

"Ouch! That hurts even more when you lick it! Cut it out!" Rinn winced and gave the wolf a light tap on the head.

"Awoo!" The pup looked up with a woeful expression, its big eyes brimming with sorrow.

"Are you the fabled Husky?" Rinn chuckled, finding the wolf's antics endearingly dim-witted. He stroked its head, saying, "Okay, my mistake. No hard feelings, alright?"

"Awoo! Awoo!" The pup's mood lifted, and it eagerly extended its tongue, aiming for Rinn's face.

"Stop! Don't you dare open your mouth!" Rinn, recalling the fate of the last wolf, hastily grabbed the pup's muzzle, redirecting its head away. "Little wolf, your wind blades can slice through wild beasts. If you're not careful with me, I could lose my head..."

"Awoo! Awoo!" The little wolf growled in protest, snapping its jaws toward a distant pile of grain.

After a three-second pause, its face took on a look of disappointment.

"Little wolf, can't you release the wind blade anymore?" Rinn inquired, gently patting the pup's head.

"Awoo!" The little wolf let out a mournful whine, its tail standing on end.

"Why can't you? Give it another shot!" Rinn encouraged, pointing towards the valley.

The pup tried once more to open its mouth, but despite its efforts, the wind blade failed to materialize.

"Awoo!" The little wolf's sadness was palpable as it rolled about in the mud.

"Don't be downhearted, little wolf. It's just a temporary glitch. You'll probably get it right the next time..."

Rinn offered a few words of comfort.

He had an epiphany; the little wolf's hesitation to unleash its wind blade during the chase might be due to the current predicament.

Was its loss of skill simply a twist of fate?

"Awoo!" The little wolf continued its fuss, leaving Rinn no choice but to pick it up and stroke its head soothingly, "Hey there, little one, no more tears..."

With Rinn's tender caresses, the little wolf settled down, yawning and lolling its tongue, reminiscent of a playful puppy frolicking with its owner.

Realizing the pup couldn't summon the wind blade, Rinn's fear subsided, allowing the wolf's tongue to playfully lick his face.

His cheeks felt sticky, but the antics of the little wolf brought a smile to Rinn's face. "Well done... little one! I can't keep calling you that, can I? How about I give you a name?"

"Aooo!" The little wolf's tail wagged in agreement.

The key distinction between a Devil Beast and a wild beast was intelligence; the former possessed a level of cognition akin to humans.

It was clear that the little wolf could comprehend Rinn's speech.

Regrettably, Rinn couldn't decipher its responses.

"Little buddy, you agree then? So, what name should I choose for you?"

Rinn stroked his chin, lost in thought, before his eyes brightened. "What do you think of Levan?"

Naming him Wang Cai might suit the local tradition better.

But in a Western fantasy game, wouldn't Wang Cai seem out of place?

Yes, Levan felt just right.

"Aooo!" The little wolf appeared thrilled, its tail wagging in acceptance.

Rinn settled little Levan on his lap, stroking its forehead with a wry smile. "Levan, you're adorable, and I've grown quite fond of you. But I've crossed John the drunkard, and now I'm in hot water. I've heard that Devil Beasts are a luxury for the wealthy, and I'm not sure I can afford to keep you..."

As he spoke, Rinn glanced at the wolf carcass on the ground, his expression torn. "But it looks like the pack has left you behind. You're so small; if I don't look after you, how will you ever survive in the wild?"

Rinn had only recently become acquainted with her, yet he was already fretting over Levan's future with a precocious concern.

Ah, it was clear he couldn't bear the thought of parting with the Devil Beast!

How perfect it would be if a wealthy gamer came along—selling it could net a fortune, couldn't it?

What Rinn didn't realize was that high-ranking nobles on the continent were also fond of keeping pets.

Devil Beasts were the crème de la crème in the pet market, often deemed priceless and elusive.

Should he put this little wolf pup up for sale, a throng of nobles would likely come running, daughters in tow, clamoring to make an offer.

And if the pup were to enter the circles of nobility, it would undoubtedly be lavished with aristocratic care, pampered and tended to by servants—a life far grander than Rinn's own.

"Awoo! Awoo!"

As Rinn pondered the pup's prospects, a distant wolf howl echoed from the horizon.

He instinctively stood up, "Could that be the evil wolf's backup arriving?"

"Awoo!" Levan in his arms let out a roar, its stubby legs kicking as it leaped from Rinn's embrace and bolted toward the source of the howl.

"Levan! Levan!"

Rinn called out repeatedly, hurrying after the pup, but Levan, as if bewitched, paid him no heed.

Ultimately, Levan dashed out of the rice paddy, picking up speed. Rinn had no chance of catching up and could only watch helplessly as the distance between them grew.

"Why is Levan ignoring me? Why is it running towards the wolf's howl? Could it really be so unafraid of death?"

Rinn's mind raced with worry, but he gradually regained his composure. "Levan's intelligent. It wouldn't just rush to its doom. Perhaps the howl wasn't from an enemy but a companion?"

Despite his ruminations, Rinn found no answers.

Resigned, he glanced at the wolf carcass on the ground, touched his nose, and muttered, "Right now, worrying about Levan won't do any good. I need to figure out what to do with these first..."

...

"Boss, how much for this pig's hind leg?"

"Hey, pal, you're here buying meat every single day. Why play dumb?"

"Cork, cut the attitude, would you? I'm a customer here to buy meat, not to get an earful of your snide comments!"

"Alright, buddy, I get it. You work over at the western ranch and don't earn much. How about I give you a deal on this pig's leg meat? Ten copper coins a pound sound good?"

"Really? You've got yourself a deal!"

...

After the transaction, Cork watched the lean shepherd boy walk away and muttered under his breath with a scowl, "Poor sod, bad luck follows him like a shadow."

With the meat nearly sold out and night falling, Cork decided it was time to pack up and head home.

Just then, he heard a rumbling sound—the noise of wooden wheels grinding against the cobblestones.

Looking up, Cork saw a frail-looking young man pushing a cart toward him.

Cork recognized the boy and asked with a frown, "You're the old drunk's kid, right? What's your name again?"

"Mr. Cork, I'm Rinn," the youth replied with a respectful tone.

"Hmm." Cork eyed the cart, something hidden beneath a thick blanket.

With his butcher's instincts, Cork caught the scent of blood wafting from underneath.

"Is this Judy's cart from the general store?" he inquired.

"Yes, John Master borrowed it from her," Rinn answered quietly.

"And what's under there?"

Without a word, Rinn pulled back the blanket to reveal four wolf carcasses on the cart.

Cork was taken aback. "Are these adult snow wolves?" he asked incredulously.

"Exactly."

Rinn gave a slight nod as Cork approached the cart, crouched down, and gently touched the fur. "Still warm, they haven't been dead long, have they? Each of these has to weigh at least two hundred pounds."

He kept his next thoughts to himself.

"Wolf pelts for soft armor, bones for crafting, wolf meat for the black iron market—nobles will eat this up. This could all turn into a tidy sum of money."

With that thought, Cork's breath quickened. He looked at Rinn intently and pressed, "Rinn, is it? How on earth did you come by these snow wolves?"

"It was just hunted by John. He was covered in blood, so he went back to change his clothes, and that's why he sent me to help him sell it..."

Rinn lied without any hint of guilt. His expression remained calm, and his tone steady, betraying no signs of deceit.

"John, the blacksmith? Since when did he start hunting?" Cork's brow furrowed, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

So it's that drunkard's goods! Not the easiest to offload!

Rinn felt a twinge of nervousness at Cork's expression and decided to check the NPC's stats.

What he saw was a line of peculiar text.

"Cork, butcher, level unknown, attributes unknown..."

The system indicated that only NPCs of a much higher level were inscrutable.

Which meant Cork was definitely above level 6...

With such a formidable figure, who could guess at his intelligence, or whether he'd see through the lies?

Despite his anxiety, Rinn managed to say, "Mr. Cork, my master wants to know how much you're offering. If the price is right, we'll sell to you."

Cork remained silent, giving Rinn a three-second stare that made his heart race. Then, in a low voice, he said, "As you know, wolf meat typically goes for about 20 copper coins per pound. But this is a snow wolf, premium meat. I can offer you 25 copper coins per pound, though the price varies for the organs and fur... Tell you what, since it's John's catch, I'll do you a favor and take it off your hands for 40 copper coins per pound."

Cork didn't haggle, likely out of respect for John's volatile temper and considerable skills.

"Really?"

Rinn's eyes brightened. Sensing his skepticism, Cork added firmly, "Rinn, my price is honest. Your master can check in town. If I'm shortchanging him, he's welcome to come after me..."

"No, Mr. Cork, you've got it wrong. I... My master will definitely trust you!"

Rinn nodded vigorously, his excitement palpable. "Go ahead and weigh it, then!"

He recalled that pork sold for roughly ten copper coins per pound. He had assumed the snow wolf would fetch a similar price, never expecting it to command such a premium.

Cork observed Rinn's reaction and a twinge of regret stirred within him. "Did I perhaps bid too high?"