Ji-Hoon's face tightened, every muscle locking in pure instinct. He barely had time to understand what was happening before a pack of foxes appeared on the smaller hill ahead. Their snarling muzzles and sharp, predatory eyes made one thing clear—they were here to kill him.
I need to escape.
But the moment that thought formed, a crushing realization followed:
They were faster. Much faster.
Running meant dying tired.
The forest wasn't far, but the foxes were closing in with terrifying speed. With taller peaks rising behind him, Ji-Hoon made a split-second decision. He lunged onto a round stone, then another plateau, sprinting toward a massive fractured boulder jutting from the hillside. His body moved with desperate, ragged agility.
A quick glance over his shoulder froze his blood—the foxes were already where he had been seconds ago, accelerating with murderous precision. His confidence wavered, fear creeping into his movements and slowing him down.
In his rush, his foot slipped on a circular stone.
A sharp twist—
a spike of pain—
but he gritted his teeth and forced his body forward.
Only a few hundred meters separated him from the giant stone.
Up close, it was a towering monolith split by deep, jagged cracks—just wide enough for a man to squeeze through. The peak stood three stories high, narrow at the base and widening near the top. Ji-Hoon shoved himself into one of the crevices, climbing until a solid layer of rock blocked his path. To go higher, he'd need to climb on the outer surface.
He pressed his limbs against the inner walls, spider-like, inching upward.
Below, smaller foxes wriggled into the cracks, but the larger ones were too big to follow.
For a moment—a single, fragile moment—he was safe.
He had climbed barely a single-story height, but his body was already screaming. His joints trembled; his back burned. The wolf pelt clung to him, but his bare back was stabbed by tiny, sharp stones embedded into the rock. At first, adrenaline masked the pain—now it grew into a biting pulse that crawled up his spine.
Below, the foxes prowled and snapped, a starving pack desperate for his flesh. Ji-Hoon knew he wouldn't last long. His mind raced, hunting for any strategy, any angle, any impossible escape route.
Layla!
Where are you?! Tell me what to do! he screamed inside his head.
Nothing.
Rage twisted across his face.
"So you won't help me today? You want to see me die? That it?"
His grip trembled. Staying here meant death. Climbing wrong meant death. Falling meant death. Every option led to the same end. He tested a handhold, but even the smallest shift sent the foxes into a frenzy, claws scraping stone as they tried to leap up at him.
The moonlight, unnaturally bright, washed the world in a harsh blue glow. Night looked like day—yet Ji-Hoon saw no hope anywhere. He had climbed for a better angle… and all it revealed was despair.
Then—movement.
From across the illuminated plain, massive shadows sprinted into view.
Wolves. A whole pack.
And their target was not him—
but the foxes.
Hope struck him like lightning.
If the wolves attack… I can climb higher. I can escape. I can reach the peak.
That single spark ignited something primal and fierce inside him. Even with pain stabbing through his back, even with fear curling cold around his heart—he felt strength. Real, burning strength.
He braced himself, pushing upward with every ounce of will he had left, mind echoing a single promise:
I can survive.
I will survive.
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