“You’ve arrived!”
Namjin’s cheerful laughter greeted the two of them.
[Grandfather sure has a loud voice.]
As Ba’al said, it was a voice loud enough to make your ears ring.
‘It really does feel different from when I saw him in my previous life.’
The Grandfather he’d met back when he was just a stray. Maybe that single encounter was what led to this moment.
‘Still, it’s awkward. No matter what.’
A dinner like this, a father who looked at him gently—everything felt unfamiliar. Taehoo scratched his cheek for no reason, while Jiho, on the other hand, stared straight at Grandfather. His eyes were filled with deep respect and admiration.
[Puhaha! What’s with this kid? Anyone would think he’s meeting his first love. His eyes are sparkling with sugar.]
When Taehoo glanced at Jiho, sure enough, he looked just like that.
He even twisted his body as if he’d fallen in love—such a sight felt like a waste not to share.
‘Not that I don’t understand…’
Dozens of heroic tales, and achievements as a First Generation Hunter more dazzling than anyone’s.
‘He was even one of the Hunters who wounded the Wounded Ancient Dragon.’
A man revered by all who dreamed of becoming a Hunter.
That was Namjin.
Of course, that would only last for a moment.
[Why? It’s fun.]
Sure, watching that gorilla twist himself up is amusing, but the Test had already begun.
[Seriously, what is this Test about?]
At Ba’al’s question, Taehoo’s gaze shifted to the table.
The big pot placed in front of Namjin.
Whatever was inside—that was Namjin’s Test.
[That’s what’s inside?]
Ba’al’s voice sounded incredulous.
Just watch and you’ll see.
“Come, have a seat.”
Unable to watch any longer, Namgoong spoke up, telling them to sit.
Jiho, not wanting to lose out, sat right in front of Namjin, and Taehoo sat next to him.
Seated, the presence of the soup pot on the table was overwhelming.
“This old man heard about the tests for his two grandsons and found it quite entertaining. So I prepared a reward.”
Namjin looked at the pot in front of him and then swept his gaze quickly over the two sitting before him.
[That old man. He’s blatantly sizing us up with mana. Where does he…?]
Suddenly, warmth spread through Taehoo’s body.
He felt as if something was trying to protect him, and Namjin’s eyes flashed.
“Grandfather, can’t you open it already?”
[Look at him, all heated up just because it’s a reward from Grandfather.]
Ba’al clicked his tongue, tsk, tsk.
Thanks to that, no one noticed Namjin’s flustered expression.
Regardless of Namjin’s private feelings, Jiho would soon regret asking for the pot to be opened quickly.
“All right, all right. Here, a present from your Grandfather.”
Namjin reached out and opened the lid. Jiho’s eyes shone even brighter than stars in the night sky.
It was hard to believe this was the same kid who always looked so fierce outside. Still a child, after all.
And so—
“Here, a health-boosting gift that Grandfather spent a whole year preparing. Eat up.”
As the steam cleared from their vision, like Pandora’s Box opening—
Jiho’s face went ashen. He even shook his head, as if refusing to believe what he saw.
Namjin watched Jiho’s reaction, as if he’d been waiting for it.
Like a beast eyeing its prey, he scrutinized his opponent.
[What is it? What’s in there? Why are they acting like that?]
With a calm gaze, Taehoo looked inside. Two dogs were stewing in a reddish broth.
‘A health tonic, huh…’
Boshintang. Dog meat, in other words.
Seeing two whole dogs boiled like that was a truly chilling sight.
But that wasn’t all.
‘Those were the puppies we were given as birthday presents a year ago…’
Taehoo had named his Mung-i, and Jiho had named his Daeng-i.
For a whole year, they’d been friends and family—now, they were a dish before their eyes.
No matter how precocious a child was, they were only ten years old.
Jiho’s reaction was only natural.
[That old man’s a bit of a psycho, isn’t he?]
Not exactly.
He had been powerless as a human, forced to live as a dog. He’d seen countless people die because they couldn’t endure it.
A life where someone you locked eyes with one day might return as a corpse the next.
‘It’s just that I’m not a human anymore, but the situation isn’t much different now.’
After the Gates opened and Monsters began to appear, the world had become even more ruthlessly ruled by the law of the jungle.
At the heart of this survival-of-the-fittest world were the children of the Nam Clan, heirs to one of the five Great Families.
Maybe it was an exaggeration, but the road ahead wouldn’t be much different from this moment.
This was Namjin’s warning—a rough lesson.
If you’re weak, the world will snatch away what’s precious to you without a second thought.
Could they understand that?
Namjin was asking his two grandsons that very question.
“Is this your first time having dog meat? It’s delicious.”
Namjin tore off Daeng-i’s leg and shoved it into his mouth. The well-boiled meat came off the bone easily.
“Hik!”
Jiho let out a wheezing sound without realizing it.
[If Satan knew about this, he’d be delighted to learn a new torture method.]
That Satan is you…
As Taehoo thought that—
[Looks like it’s your turn now?]
Namjin’s gaze shifted from Jiho to Taehoo, as if there was nothing more to see.
What will you do? That was the question in his eyes.
There was no reason to be nervous anymore. Taehoo wasn’t a child who couldn’t understand Namjin’s intentions.
‘It’s been too long to hold onto the feelings I had when I was young… Sorry.’
Taehoo thought briefly. Then, without hesitation, he moved some food onto his plate.
Namjin stared at Taehoo, trying to see if he had understood his intent.
Namgoong, too, gazed at Taehoo, even though he had no place in Namjin’s lesson.
You don’t have to force yourself… That seemed to be what Namgoong’s eyes were saying.
To get a look like that, which he’d never once received in decades of longing, made Taehoo feel ticklish inside.
Taehoo’s eyes spoke as well.
‘You should have done this sooner, Father.’
It was too late now.
He looked at Namgoong with those feelings. At the same time, he opened his crescent-moon eyes.
Smiling, he shoved the dog meat into his mouth. Namgoong’s lower eyelid twitched for a moment.
[Whoa… That expression’s kind of scary.]
Ba’al, with his usual offbeat sensitivity, rambled in Taehoo’s mind.
[Looks like even he relates to this a bit. A moment ago he looked at you like you were a bug, now he’s looking at you like you’re a Monster.]
Ba’al didn’t stop talking for a second. It was exhausting…
[What did you say, punk?]
Taehoo thought, but in a way, having someone to break the tension in moments like this was a blessing.
[Right?]
Ba’al’s simplicity almost made Taehoo laugh.
And so, Taehoo finished everything he’d served himself.
“Thank you for the meal, Grandfather. I feel a bit stronger already.”
He even neatly wiped his mouth with the napkin beside him.
In contrast, Jiho couldn’t even bring himself to touch the dog meat. So there was nothing to wipe, and the eyes that had once shone with admiration for Grandfather were now lifeless.
But he didn’t glare or look at Namjin with resentment, either. For Namjin, that alone was meaningful enough.
“Good. I’m glad. It was worth coming down from the Mountains after so long.”
Namjin looked at Taehoo with a deep gaze.
[Looks like the old man really likes you. Is this a successful plan?]
About half, yes. After all, I heard even Father never passed this Test when he was a child.
In other words, Taehoo was the first to pass Namjin’s Test.
He’d tried to check Taehoo out, only to be blocked by an invisible force, and now, the first grandson in the family to pass the Test.
It must have made quite an impression.
‘The person closest to the Sword Saint in the world. Yet he chose seclusion. A Hero. A Half-God.’
[You want to become his disciple, don’t you?]
Ba’al spoke, agreeing with Taehoo’s thoughts.
‘Yes.’
He didn’t know why Namjin turned his back on the world.
But for someone trying to become his disciple, Namjin’s circumstances were ideal.
A Hunter who deserved to be called upon by the world multiple times, devoting all his time to just one person?
Anyone would leap at the chance!
So the other half was important, too. For Taehoo and Jiho, that dinner meant something different.
Taehoo, with his small ten-year-old hands, was digging into the frozen earth.
On a day when sleet mixed with the cold wind, white breath naturally escaped his mouth.
Beside him lay the bones of two dogs, wrapped in cloth.
[You smiled as you ate, but now you’re going through all this trouble… Really.]
It wasn’t wrong.
After all, he’d brought back the bones of the dogs he’d eaten and was burying them on the Back Mountain.
But Taehoo did it anyway.
He thought it was the least he could do.
Even in his previous life, he’d made graves for those only he remembered.
If only he’d had bones like this back then. He thought that, just for a moment.
[Humans are really complicated, huh~]
There are more difficult things in the world than easy ones, kid.
“What are you doing?”
In the middle of their back-and-forth, a voice suddenly called out. Startled, as if his secret had been discovered, Taehoo turned around to see Jiho standing there.
Jiho’s face, cast in shadow, was full of distress.
It looked like he’d come out for a walk to clear his head.
But to see Taehoo digging in the Back Mountain—he must have been confused.
Under the moonlight, the brothers faced each other. Their breath sometimes obscured their view.
Jiho soon couldn’t withstand Taehoo’s gaze and looked away.
He was remembering how Taehoo had eaten the dog meat so nonchalantly.
[What’s this? Looks like his spirit’s broken a bit.]
His voice, so bold when he’d called Taehoo, was completely different now.
Jiho soon spotted the white cloth beside Taehoo, and the white bones inside.
“You… don’t tell me.”
“What are you doing?”
Taehoo cut off Jiho’s words, as if he’d realized his intentions. Then—
“If you’ve figured it out, you should help dig, too. You should make at least one grave.”
Understanding, Jiho quickly took a spot next to Taehoo.
With their small hands, they dug for a long time and buried their puppies.
It was a humble grave, but it was the best the two of them could do with their bare hands.
Taehoo turned to leave Jiho, who was sniffling, and headed home.
“Hey…!”
Jiho called out to Taehoo then. With dust on his cheeks, he hesitated for a long time before finally saying,
“T-thank you.”
Taehoo looked at Jiho and chuckled.
‘He’s got a cute side, doesn’t he.’
Who would have thought a day would come when he’d think this about Jiho? In his previous life, the kid had seemed so big, but now he looked endlessly small.
Really, you never know what life will bring.
[What do you mean, long life? Your body’s only ten years old now.]
Taehoo ignored Ba’al’s jab.
He wasn’t in a bad mood. Not that he was especially happy, either.
With a smile just like the one Jiho used to give him in his previous life—
“If you keep being so soft-hearted, I’ll overtake you, big bro. Or, since we’re twins anyway, want to be the younger one?”
At those words, Jiho’s face changed instantly.
“Y-you little…!”
Ignoring Jiho’s grumbling, Taehoo headed back to the clan.
‘So this is what being a jerk feels like.’
A thrilling, new flavor he’d never felt in his previous life.
As the bittersweet taste lingered in his mouth, Taehoo brushed off the last of his regrets for the Kangaji.