It Was Written in the Book

Victor Logan's life over these past few years had not been much different from his childhood; he had become the estate's new gardener while still handling some of the chores in the stables.

Mr. Howlett had once offered to give him other responsibilities, even suggesting he manage things on his own out in the world, but Victor had refused every time. He simply stated that he wished to stay by James's side, and Mr. Howlett did not press the matter; the old man likely felt that once his grandson took charge of the family, he would naturally find a use for Victor.

As James's half-brother, Victor had awakened earlier, though his process was relatively peaceful, slow, and gradual. It started with his fingernails growing abnormally since childhood, followed by a steady increase in his physical fitness and healing abilities.

At first, Victor only noticed that the pain from the beatings he received after his father Thomas Logan went on drunken rampages was becoming less intense, to the point where he never found a single mark on his body. Gradually, he realized he was somewhat different, and at the same time, a strange sense of perception and desire began to influence him.

From the moment James returned to the estate after his own awakening and locked eyes with Victor, he knew clearly that this "cheap" brother was no longer an ordinary person. In that instant, a strange bond truly formed between the brothers—like the unspoken understanding of beasts from the same pack familiar with each other's scent, or perhaps the desire to conquer the other to become the beast king.

Stemming from a higher degree of awakening and the keenness of a martial arts master, James could sense the faint scent of blood lingering on Victor; this brother was not as settled as he appeared.

James did not find Victor in his cabin; early in the morning, many people had not even risen yet. His brand-new sense of smell allowed him to "see" a pale yellow trail of scent, and he followed it along.

The Lage Forest was still shrouded in morning mist, and through the haze came a few desperate roars. It was an adult brown bear, whose standing height of over two point two meters made it one of the few giants in this forest and the apex of the food chain.

Yet now, it lay slumped on the ground, swaying from side to side as it struggled to keep from collapsing. Large patches of skin and flesh were torn open, and blood mixed with mud matted its entire coat.

Judging by the wounds, it was clear this brown bear had been in a brawl with a beast of equal size. Claw marks were scattered across its chest and back, and most severely, half of its face had been shredded, with a shattered eyeball dangling from the socket. The "beast" that had fought it was now panting heavily, back arched, staring it down.

"Huff! Huff!" Victor Logan's heaving chest moved like a giant bellows, and several deep, bone-reaching claw marks on his bare upper body were healing at an imperceptible, slow pace.

His arms were extremely thick, long enough to reach his knees just like James's, but even more massive, with knotted muscles winding around them like hemp ropes. His fingernails had grown thicker and longer, carrying a sharp, metallic sheen, and blood dripped steadily from his fingertips.

Victor's bloodshot eyes were slightly unfocused. Suddenly, he lunged forward, his hands touching the ground to spring off, covering a distance of five or six meters in an instant. He brought his fingers together and plunged them deep into both sides of the brown bear's neck, burying his forearms into the flesh.

The brown bear let out a weak, half-finished howl, its remaining eye turned gray, and it lost its breath.

Victor slowly pulled his hands back, his tense muscles relaxing slightly. He twitched his nose sharply and spread his arms, his claws—which had just retracted—"snicked" back out. His eyes remained fixed on the mist-covered bushes ahead, where a slightly shorter, leaner figure was vaguely reflected.

"Here for breakfast, Victor?" James Howlett walked out easily, making no attempt to hide his presence. He smiled slightly at Victor, who looked at him with a mix of wariness and astonishment.

"James... you..." Victor was at a loss for words. In that moment, he should have realized that the scent belonged to James, but in the heat of the moment, he hadn't reacted, and subconsciously, he never expected the young master of the estate to be in the forest at the crack of dawn.

Victor didn't know what to do; having been caught in such a state, he even felt a flicker of an urge to kill to silence the witness, his claws remaining extended.

"Don't be nervous, I've always known." James comforted Victor in a gentle tone.

"Always known?" Victor clearly didn't dare believe James's words, but his arms lowered slightly of their own accord.

"What do you know?"

"Forgot that I always liked to read? A book I once read mentioned the atavism phenomenon in humans. This isn't a curse, nor is it demonic possession or anything of the sort; it's just that you have innate atavistic beast-like traits."

Victor was clearly stunned. In truth, he had suspected the various anomalies occurring within him for a long time, but limited by the knowledge and understanding of the era, he had even thought a demon was attached to his body—that he was a monster who couldn't fit into the world—and had carefully hidden his differences because of it.

Seeing Victor's mood clearly soften, James continued: "Since we were kids, I noticed your fingernails. This is a typical dominant atavism. Some people even grow tails, and others grow long fangs. In legends and stories, this gets exaggerated into orcs or werewolf-like monsters, but this is just basic biological knowledge."

He continued to deceive Victor without blushing, as this was the best way to convince this brute, who lived in an age of ignorance and hadn't read many books.

"So, if you feel your strength growing, or even if you can smell many scents like a beast, it's all perfectly normal." James took a few more steps forward, standing very close to Victor, and curiously examined the dead brown bear behind him.

"What else? Tell me everything you know." Victor had calmed down and spoke slowly, finally retracting the claws at his fingertips.

"I don't know much either. If you met a professor of biology or anthropology, they might be able to tell you in more detail. Just... Victor, have you ever killed a person?" James looked up slightly into Victor's blood-red eyes and asked softly.

Victor shook his head and said, "No. For a few years now, a strange feeling has been influencing me. I find myself wanting to eat steak rarer, wanting to taste the flavor of fresh blood. That's why I started coming to the forest to hunt animals—mostly rabbits and elk."

He paused, glanced back at the bear's carcass, and continued, "This time, I accidentally encroached on its territory, otherwise it wouldn't have come to this."

"That's good. Remember, Victor, don't let that desire consume you." James told him with unusual seriousness. Victor pondered for a moment, offered no response, found the coat he had discarded, and strode toward the estate.

The kerosene chandelier, encased in an exquisite crystal shade, illuminated the banquet hall of the Governor's Mansion. Mr. Howlett sat at one end of the long dinner table, with Butler Vane serving behind him. The Governor enthusiastically raised his glass to toast Mr. Howlett: "This is wine produced from my own vineyard; you must try it. This is the first glass I offer as an apology!"

"You are too kind, Governor. It is I who should be apologizing to you," Mr. Howlett responded with a look of feigned trepidation, downing the glass.

"Mr. Howlett, your men are all safe and sound; you may take them today. You know the situation—the Empire's policies toward Canada have become quite strict. Your herd crossed the line this time; I truly had no other choice!" Governor Smith said with great regret, his words earnest and quite moving.

"I understand, I understand. Your Excellency did what was necessary. For my negligence, I have brought some gifts this time to express my apologies." Butler Vane took the envelope from his hand at the right moment and handed it to the Governor's servant, who placed it on the gold-plated empty plate on the table.

"Furthermore," Mr. Howlett continued, "the Howlett family fully supports the new tax policy announced by Your Excellency. Whether it is for the future or for the taxes that need to be paid in arrears, it will certainly be taken care of!"

"Hahaha! Mr. Howlett is truly a wonderful man; you are so considerate of my work! When I first arrived, some people said nasty things about you, but I see that it was all just jealousy of your wealth and character!" Smith slapped the table and shouted in feigned anger. He steadied himself, leaned forward slightly, and asked enthusiastically:

"I hear your little grandson is your only heir?"