abnormal mutation

Chapter 4 I'm always too soft-hearted

"Name?"

“York, my name is York, I don’t have a surname.”

"Profession?"

"A security assistant is someone who... disciplines those disobedient workers..."

"Ha, what a brilliant name," Roland scoffed. "How many of you were involved in this?"

"There were probably seven or eight. I was just a henchman. The boss didn't tell us many things..."

"..."

After being intimidated, York, terrified, told almost everything he knew, but after all, he was not of high status and knew very little.

The boss he was referring to was the bearded man on the ground with his neck torn apart, nicknamed Ugly Bear. He was one of White Bear's most capable subordinates and the person in charge of this operation.

After receiving orders from the White Bear, they secretly monitored the "House of Roland," a shop at the westernmost end of Monastery Street. On the morning of February 6, 2573, they launched a surprise attack in a dark alley while Roland was out shopping in the East Market with his entourage.

After succeeding, Roland was kidnapped to a hunter's hut in the northern snowfield, while Roland's brother was left to rot in the wilderness, probably already eaten by hungry animals on the snowfield.

However, Roland was too stubborn and did not carry his medal with him. Ugly Bear had no choice but to risk being targeted by law enforcement officers and forcibly raid Roland's lair, while York and Joe continued the interrogation.

As a result, Roland died unexpectedly, and York and Joe frantically notified Ugly Bear, forcing the operation to be canceled. Aside from this, there was no other valuable information; York didn't even know where the remaining people were, only guessing they might be at the sawmill near town.

"So you have four or five accomplices who could come at any moment? Do they have guns?" Roland felt it wasn't time to relax yet.

“I…I really don’t know…” York felt agonizing, sensing that his life was already counting down.

Roland looked at him quietly, making the other man uneasy. "Take off your coat and hat, and I'll let you go, but whether you survive or not depends on your luck."

York stared at Roland in surprise, his mouth agape. He hadn't expected Roland to actually let him go. He didn't dare delay. He hurriedly dropped his axe, took off his hat and fur coat, and cautiously approached the door. Only when he realized that neither the two wolves nor the one person was stopping him did he suddenly run a few steps and burst out the door.

The blizzard outside seemed to have lessened a bit, but visibility was still poor. The thick snow was about half a person deep, making progress difficult. But York had no choice; he had to get away as soon as possible to avoid Roland changing his mind.

Inside the cabin, Roland stared in shock at the blizzard outside. He had never seen such a heavy snowfall before; going out in this weather was tantamount to courting death.

"This kind of death must be very painful. I can't be so cruel." Roland shivered several times, quickly retreated to the fire, and put York's fur coat on himself.

The black wolf at the door lazily stood up, vanished in a flash, and closed the wooden door behind it.

Another black wolf lay obediently at his feet. Roland ran his hand through its fur; it felt soft and textured, but it was icy cold, colder than room temperature, so it was obviously not suitable for holding to keep warm.

He thought for a moment, bent down and tried to hug the black wolf, but found that he couldn't lift it. If he used too much force, he would reopen the wound, so he had to give up.

The two wolves, though physically present, could merge with him, posing an unprecedented challenge to his rationality and logic.

"This is unscientific, but fantastical." He felt that the extraordinary nature of this world was somewhat idealistic and he couldn't think about it too much, or his brain would explode.

With a creak, the wooden door opened again, and the black wolf returned, carrying a bloodied corpse in its mouth—it was York. "Why does it always have to be so bloody?" Roland grumbled.

He looked disgusted, but he still stood up and searched each corpse one by one, leaving no stone unturned: water bags, clothes, kerosene lighters, pocket watches, money bags... He quickly piled them up.

This experience was strange. In his previous life, he was not very brave and had never even killed a chicken. Now, however, he could endure the discomfort and have close contact with a corpse. He could only marvel at how the environment changes a person.

After a while, he stood up, panting, with a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. He was now hungry, tired, and sleepy, and even standing was becoming an ordeal.

"Throw them all out, throw them far away," he said weakly, pointing at the three naked corpses.

"Gurgle, gurgle..." My stomach growled even louder.

He hadn't eaten for two days, during which time he had lost a lot of blood. The abnormal mutation had also consumed a lot of calories, and waves of hunger were assaulting his nerves.

Beside the fire was an old, open burlap sack containing six square, light brown loaves of bread and three pieces of dark red meat of varying sizes. This must have been the food that Ugly Bear had prepared for himself.

Roland picked out two pieces of bread and a piece of bacon, poked them a few times with his hunting knife, and found them too hard, so he simply threw them into the iron basin and let the boiling water slowly heat them up to soften them.

While he was at it, he pulled out all his clothes, grabbed some snow from the doorway, and vigorously rubbed them. The North was bitterly cold, and most clothes were fur; this method was a faster and more effective way to remove odors and bloodstains.

The original owner had extensive experience living at the bottom of society, and Roland inherited everything from him, doing it quite skillfully.

After a quick cleaning, Roland moved the fire pit to a new location, creating a perfect resting area between the woodpile against the wall and the fire pit. He laid his clothes layer by layer on the dry, warm ashes, putting the dirty ones at the bottom and the clean ones on top, while using his underwear, which he disliked, to seal the cracks in the wall.

The three of them had plenty of clothes, and the makeshift bed looked quite sturdy. Roland plopped down on it; it was warm, soft, and comfortable. He couldn't help but groan softly, feeling a surge of happiness and an urge to lie down and fall asleep immediately.

"We need to eat something first!"

He put on the ugly bear's leather gloves, placed the dark iron basin on the wooden stump, and then dragged it in front of him.

Suddenly, a strange smell, a mixture of wheat aroma and salty odor, wafted over with the heat. The soup was a little cloudy, and the bread submerged in the water dissolved slightly, but its overall shape remained largely unchanged.

Roland wiped the spearhead knife, then with a little force, plunged it into the bread. He lifted it up, took a bite, and immediately frowned.

It wasn't tasty; the texture was rough, with only a hint of wheat flavor and a savory saltiness from the bacon. Fortunately, it was hot and tender enough. In such harsh conditions, it could be considered delicious.

Roland had no right to complain and began to eat heartily. Soon, two large pieces of bread, a piece of bacon, and half a pot of soup were all gone.

After eating and drinking his fill, his cold body warmed up completely. He slumped on the bed, still half asleep, and mumbled, "What a glutton!"

He knew he still had many things to consider, such as the spoils of war yet to be tallied, what to do next, what the original owner of this body looked like, what the nightmares were all about, and what this world was like...

But all of that had to wait; his body desperately needed rest, and his brain was practically mush. After giving the two wolves a night watch order, he could no longer hold on and drifted off to sleep.

Inside the wooden house, a black wolf used its paws to cover its master's fur coat, while another black wolf occasionally threw firewood into the fire, creating an eerie and quiet atmosphere.

The new book is released. Thank you to all the readers for your support.

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(End of this chapter)