"Gil, give me a little time with the fans."
Someone slung an arm around the blond man, laughing mockingly.
Of course, he was joking. Four photographers circled them, filming from every possible angle. It wasn't as if the camera Gil was addressing was the only one present.
Perhaps the man simply wanted to show some 'chemistry' on-screen.
"Albert, take your hand off me. It's too heavy."
"You're so cold-hearted. Your little brother is dying from the heat—just let me lean on you for a second."
"I'm hot too. Don't stick to me like that. Move."
They continued bickering, but it was obvious they were close—brothers, even—given how neither minded the sweat or the physical closeness.
Mel watched the two with a sweet smile, not even glancing at the cameras.
"Children… always fighting."
Even Harry's expression softened, a rare break from his usual foul mood.
"Leave them. I want snacks. Come with me if you want, Mel."
Then he raised his voice toward another man.
"Nathan! Don't stand there alone—come sit with us!"
Nathan looked like a ghost… that was the closest way to describe him. Not because of white hair or a frightening face—if anything, he was strikingly handsome, with warm honey-toned skin. But his eyes were unfocused, drifting as if searching for something only he could see.
And the aura around him screamed: Don't come near me.
"Aren, say something to the camera too."
The host smiled shyly as he approached Aren, who had been quietly observing from the corner.
Aren disliked being surrounded by people. His instincts clawed at him to flee.
Years of living as a killer had taught him to always leave himself an escape route.
When Aren confirmed that the host approaching him meant no harm, he exhaled a warm breath and looked at the photographer pointing a camera toward him.
He was about to speak when he sensed movement behind him.
He ignored everything before him and focused entirely on the disturbance he felt.
Nothing had appeared yet—but he knew something, or someone, was moving toward them.
He felt it in the vibration of the earth… in the tremor of the air.
And just as he suspected—
From behind a cluster of medium-sized trees they had passed earlier, a large white wolf emerged.
It was stunning, with icy blue eyes and snowy fur.
Unfortunately, that beautiful fur was marred with crimson, staining its serene and elegant appearance.
The wolf's hind leg was injured.
"It's a wolf—oh my God!"
"Get together! Stay close!"
"Careful! Don't move! It won't attack if we don't provoke it!"
Everyone erupted in panic.
Aren glanced at the frightened crowd—even the three armed men had their weapons pointed at the wolf.
Can't they see its injured leg? It looks like it's been chased… it doesn't even have the strength to run. Where would it find the strength to attack?
But Aren said nothing. He simply watched.
Then his eyes narrowed sharply.
Because he saw them.
Two small heads peeked out from behind the wolf.
Her pups.
Aren stepped forward.
"Aren, don't move!"
Mel's voice trembled in fear, terrified that Aren might get hurt. But Aren stood at the edge of the group and slipped away too quickly for Mel to stop him.
The wolf snarled, baring its deadly teeth, jaws gaping wide.
But Aren didn't care—no, he wasn't afraid.
In his entire twenty-five years, he had never feared animals the way he feared humans. Humans were far more vile and terrifying. Animals attack only to eat or to protect their family.
Humans? Humans kill over the most trivial reasons.
And at the root of it all was greed. Endless, insatiable greed.
Everyone held their breath as Aren approached the wolf step by step.
Their repeated warnings eventually died out.
Even Harry muttered darkly, "If he wants to die, let him die."
Aren reached the wolf and knelt before it, meeting its gaze with complete focus.
The wolf stared back. And after a moment, instead of attacking, it lowered its head and sank onto its front paws—whether out of exhaustion or resignation.
"You poor thing… it must hurt terribly."
Aren examined the injured hind leg.
Just as he expected—
The wolf had been caught in a human trap.
A large black metal clamp, its sharp teeth sinking mercilessly into flesh.
"Bear with it," Aren murmured softly, sadness and pity coating every word.
Without hesitation, without a tremor, he set his hands on the trap and tried to pry it open.
But with this body, he couldn't open it easily.
He tried again. And again. Each attempt made the wolf bare its teeth, howling in agony.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry."
He touched the wolf's face gently, trying to soothe it.
When he realized he truly couldn't open the trap alone, he turned toward the group—now staring with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"Can you help me open this trap?"
[Oh my God… is this real?]
[If it's an illusion, then I'm hallucinating too! Did the newcomer just walk up to an Arctic wolf?]
[For a second I felt like I was reading a fantasy novel—the man kneels before the wolf, the wolf lowers its head… incredible. I've fallen in love.]
[No… this is heartbreaking. The poor wolf is caught in a human trap.]
[He wants to help the wolf! I feel guilty for judging him earlier—he seemed arrogant and aloof.]
[Yeah… we all insulted him earlier since he yelled at everyone, but he wasn't conscious. He'd fainted from heatstroke. Poor guy.]
[Ah! Did you see the pups behind the wolf?]
[Pups? Then she's a mother wolf? Isn't hunting this species illegal? Why are there huge traps here? These aren't for rabbits. I'm calling the police. This is illegal hunting! The poor mother—my heart hurts for her!]
"Can you help?"
Aren repeated when no one moved. Everyone just stared.
"But… won't the wolf eat us?" Mel asked first, his brown eyes trembling.
He genuinely looked terrified that the wolf might lunge at him.
"It's fine. I'm holding it. Just help me lift the trap with me. I promise it won't hurt you."
They all looked at each other—even the armed men remained frozen.