Early morning.
The sky was just beginning to brighten, the sun not yet rising above the mountains. Dew clung to every leaf, and a thin white mist hung over the dense forest, giving the lush woods a cold, almost ethereal feel even in summer.
Kevin shook the dew off his raincoat and sat cross-legged on a mat of weeds, staring ahead in silence.
"Little runt, don't run, let me check you," Jin laughed, scooping up a small wolf pup that had strayed from his side. He rubbed it, tugged lightly at its fur, even prodded its tongue, seemingly checking its health. The pups whimpered, but the Double-Headed Wolf pair lying beside him remained calm, their two heads surveying him quietly.
Kevin pursed his lips. Damn it, you two weren't like this last night.
A sudden grumble made them all look at Kevin.
He nodded faintly, not embarrassed. "Seems I'm hungry."
"It's time to eat. Let's head back," Jin said, standing and clapping his hands.
The Double-Headed Wolf couple whined as they sensed departure, circling Jin anxiously. Kevin couldn't help but notice how human-like their behavior seemed—but then, seeing their two heads, one capped with a sharp horn, the sight no longer felt odd.
"Haha, I'll be back soon to see you all," he said.
Just as they began to leave, the larger wolf approached Kevin. In its mouth was a pitch-black horn, which it gently placed at his feet.
"For me?" Kevin asked, confused.
The horned head of the wolf nodded.
Kevin picked up the horn. It was light in his hand, smooth inside, with spiral patterns etched across its surface. Holding it felt strange, as if his body instinctively craved it.
"That's right," Jin explained, sensing Kevin's confusion. "These are horns from their heads, but they're not cut off—they're shed naturally as they grow. A Double-Headed Wolf sheds four or five times in its lifetime, with intervals of fifteen to twenty years."
Jin's expression became slightly smug. "Take it. This is a gift from him to you. Something like this? You can only get it by coming with me. At large auctions, a shed horn can fetch around fifty million jenny. If it's a full horn cut off, the value can rise tenfold. That's why they're nearly extinct."
Kevin's eyes drifted to the four poachers tied hand and foot near a large tree outside the cave. Their mouths were stuffed with socks, and they watched Kevin with wide-eyed fear. He didn't understand the full value of the horn, but something about it—the instant he held it—sent a surge through him. It wasn't greed, exactly… it felt more like instinctive craving, almost like muscle memory. Why did it affect him this way?
"It seems you're very satisfied with this gift. Let's go."
Kevin snapped back to reality and silently followed Jin as they headed back to camp.
An off-road vehicle had appeared while they were gone. Leaning against it was a muscular man in a camouflage vest, military pants, and boots. Scars marked his face, and his sharp gaze gave him an unmistakable aura of danger.
"Did you go see them?" the man asked.
Jin nodded, patting him on the arm and casually kicking one of the poachers at his feet. "They're yours. You must have been following them, right?"
The man's eyes moved to Kevin, sharp and assessing, then back to Jin, silently questioning. Jin gave a small, confident nod.
"Begel Laghord. Conservation Hunter," the man said simply, nodding to Kevin. Without waiting for a response, he dragged the four poachers into the vehicle. The men stared wide-eyed at Kevin as they were forced inside, whimpering as if they wanted to speak, but their protests were swallowed by the sound of the engine.
Only after the taillights disappeared did Jin turn to Kevin, who was still lost in thought, holding the black horn tightly in his hand.
"It seems you have many questions. Let's talk while we eat. Yesterday's deal is still valid; you can ask me anything you want."
Soon, simple self-heating food was laid out on a portable table. Kevin ate quietly, filling his stomach while his mind raced with thoughts and questions.
Finally, he spoke. "What was that power during yesterday's battle? I vaguely saw something emanating from you and the leader… it was blurry, but I don't think I was mistaken."
Even now, Kevin's curiosity was focused on that extraordinary force—the one thing that clearly marked this world as different. After a pause, he added, "I have some fragmented memories… but they're incomplete. Something is missing."
Jin chewed on his canned food and nodded. "What you saw is called Nen. It's energy that dissipates from life itself. Every living being possesses it."
Kevin frowned. Life energy? Nen?
"And why," he asked cautiously, "did I only vaguely see it from you and the leader last night?"
"Ordinary people—or ordinary life forms—cannot sense Nen as it naturally overflows and dissipates. Nen users, or those in training, can sense it and control it. In battle, it erupts violently, far exceeding the slow overflow of ordinary life, which is why you could detect it so clearly during that fight."
Kevin's mind began to churn. Nen… life energy… Nen Users… Each term stirred something deep in his consciousness. Fragmented memories began to reconnect, and an unstructured understanding of Nen took shape. It wasn't complete, but it was enough to form the outline of a system—like glimpsing the edges of a puzzle.
"Seems you've recalled something," Jin said suddenly. "Look carefully at my palm. Do you see anything?"
Kevin's eyes narrowed as he leaned closer, studying the open hand. At first, all he could see was a faint shimmer, blurry yet more distinct than what he'd glimpsed last night. It felt… familiar, as if the fragments of memory had awakened some dormant skill within him.
He sensed something surging from his own body, flowing to his eyes. Could this be the Nen Jin mentioned?
A number appeared, suspended faintly in the air above Jin's palm: 5.
"That's right. The number five. You've already learned to use Gyo."
Kevin blinked. Gyo? He didn't remember this term at all. None of his memories had prepared him for it. But somehow, instinctively, he felt its weight, its significance.
A strange excitement—and fear—stirred in his chest. This world was truly unlike anything he'd known before.