Victor Logan's life had changed little over the years. He had become the Howlett estate's new gardener, while still taking care of some of the work in the stables.
Mr. Howlett had offered to find him other work, even suggesting he take charge of something outside the estate, but Victor had refused each time. He said he only wanted to stay by James's side. Mr. Howlett hadn't pressed him. Perhaps the old man thought Victor would naturally find a use in the family once his grandson took over.
As James's half-brother, Victor had awakened earlier, though his changes had come peacefully, slowly, and gradually. His nails had begun growing abnormally when he was young, and over time his physical strength and ability to heal had steadily increased.
At first, Victor had only noticed that the pain felt less severe when his father, Thomas Logan, whipped him after drinking. He had never found even a single mark on his body. Gradually, he realized he was different from other people, and a strange sense and desire began to affect him.
From the moment James returned to the estate after his awakening and met Victor's gaze, he knew that his adopted older brother was no longer an ordinary person. In that instant, the brothers had formed a strange bond. It was like the unspoken understanding between beasts of the same kind, familiar with each other's scent, yet also like a desire to conquer the other and become king of the beasts.
Thanks to his more advanced awakening and the keen senses of a martial arts master, James could feel the faint scent of blood clinging to Victor. His older brother wasn't as docile as he seemed.
James didn't find Victor in his cottage. It was still early, and many people hadn't even woken up yet. His newly awakened sense of smell let him "see" a pale-yellow trail of scent, and he followed it.
The Lage Forest was still misty in the early morning. Through the haze came several desperate roars. They belonged to an adult brown bear, more than two meters tall when standing upright, making it one of the largest beasts in the forest and an apex predator.
But now it lay slumped on the ground, swaying as it struggled to keep from falling over. Large patches of flesh hung open across its body, its fur matted with blood and mud.
The wounds showed that the brown bear had fought a beast of comparable size. Claw marks covered its chest and back, and worst of all, half its face had been torn apart, with a ruined eyeball dangling out. The "beast" that had fought it was now bent over, panting heavily as it stared at the bear.
"Whoosh! Whoosh!" Victor Logan's chest heaved like a great bellows. Deep claw marks across his bare torso were healing almost imperceptibly.
His arms were extremely thick, like James's, and nearly long enough to reach his knees, but much bulkier. His muscles twisted around them in thick cords. His nails had grown thicker and longer, gleaming with a sharp metallic sheen, and blood trickled from his fingertips.
Victor's bloodshot eyes narrowed. Suddenly, he lunged forward, planted his hands on the ground, and sprang back up, covering five or six meters in an instant. With his fingers pressed together, he drove them deep into both sides of the bear's neck, burying his forearms in its flesh.
The bear let out half a roar. Its remaining eye turned gray, and it died.
Victor slowly pulled out his hands, and his taut muscles relaxed a little. Then he suddenly flared his nostrils and spread his arms. The claws he had just withdrawn shot out again with a "shik." His eyes fixed on the trees ahead, veiled in thin mist. A slightly shorter, slimmer figure was faintly visible among them.
"Come for breakfast, Victor?" James Howlett emerged casually, making no attempt to hide himself. He smiled faintly at Victor, who stood on guard, looking somewhat startled.
"James... you..." Victor struggled to find the words. He should have realized in that instant that the scent belonged to James, but in the heat of the moment, he hadn't recognized it. And his subconscious hadn't imagined that the young master of the estate would come to the forest so early.
Victor didn't know what to do. Now that James had stumbled upon him like this, he even felt the urge to kill him to keep it quiet. The claws on his hands remained extended.
"Don't worry. I've known all along," James said gently, trying to reassure him.
"You've known all along?" Victor clearly couldn't believe James, but his arms lowered slightly despite himself.
"What do you know?"
"Did you forget how much I like to read? I once read a book that mentioned atavism in humans. This isn't a curse or demonic possession. You were simply born with atavistic animal traits."
Victor looked stunned. In truth, he had spent a long time wondering about the strange changes in his body. Given the limits of what people knew and the little education he had, he had even thought a demon was living inside him—that he was a monster who could never belong among other people. He had carefully concealed how different he was.
Seeing Victor grow calmer, James continued, "I noticed your nails when we were children. That's a classic sign of visible atavism. Some people even grow tails, while others develop long fangs. In legends, people exaggerate and describe them as beastmen or werewolves, but this is just basic biology."
He kept deceiving Victor without the slightest embarrassment. This approach was more likely to convince the brawny man, who knew little about the world and could barely read.
"So if you feel yourself getting stronger, or even find that you can smell all kinds of things like a beast, that's perfectly normal." James walked a few steps closer, almost right up to Victor, and studied the dead brown bear with curiosity.
"What else do you know? Tell me everything you know." Victor had calmed down. He spoke slowly, and the claws at his fingertips finally retracted.
"I don't know much more. If you met a professor who studied biology or anthropology, they might be able to explain it in more detail. But, Victor, have you ever killed a person?" James tilted his head slightly to look into Victor's blood-red eyes and asked softly.
Victor shook his head. "No. For the past few years, I've been affected by a strange feeling. I've wanted to eat my steak rarer, and to taste blood. So I started coming into the forest to hunt animals. Mostly rabbits and elk."
He paused and glanced back at the bear's corpse before continuing, "This time, I accidentally invaded its territory. Otherwise, it wouldn't have come to this."
"Good. Remember, Victor: don't let that desire consume you," James told him with unusual seriousness. Victor pondered for a moment but didn't answer. He looked around for the coat he had taken off, then strode toward the estate.
Oil lamps enclosed in elegant crystal shades cast pools of light across the governor's residence banquet hall. Mr. Howlett sat at one end of the long dinner table, with Butler Vane serving behind him. The governor warmly raised his glass to toast Mr. Howlett. "This wine was made at my own vineyard. You simply must try it. This is my first drink by way of apology!"
"You're too kind, Governor. I'm the one who should be apologizing to you," Mr. Howlett replied with feigned alarm, then drained his glass.
"Mr. Howlett, your men are all unharmed, and you can take them home today. You know the situation. The Empire has tightened its policies toward Canada, and your herd crossed the border this time. I truly had no choice!" Governor Smith apologized profusely, his words sincere and deeply felt.
"I understand, I understand. You did what you had to do, Governor. To make amends for my mistake, I've brought a few gifts." At the right moment, Butler Vane handed an envelope to the governor's servant, who placed it on an empty gilded plate on the table.
"And one more thing," Mr. Howlett continued. "The Howlett Family fully supports the new tax policy you announced. Any taxes owed going forward, including back taxes, will be paid in full!"
"Hahaha! Mr. Howlett, you're truly a wonderful man. You're making my job so much easier! When I first arrived, people said all sorts of nasty things about you. I can see now they were just jealous of your wealth and character!" Smith slapped the table and pretended to shout angrily. Then he composed himself, leaned forward slightly, and asked warmly:
"I hear your little grandson is your only heir?"
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