The Wolfman Who Stole Food

Having practiced the Golden Light Incantation for a long time, Kraun felt his five senses becoming increasingly sharp.

Someone was currently inside the room gorging themselves, and he could even hear the sound of the intruder smacking their lips with perfect clarity.

Should I laugh or cry that my Tier 3 Cooking skill is actually capable of attracting a food thief?

Kraun gently set down the box in his hand and unslung his backpack, taking care not to make a single sound.

His revolver was already gripped tightly in his hand. He quickly inserted the key into the lock, pushed the door open, and stepped inside with both hands raised, leveling the gun.

Inside, he saw a very tall and sturdy back, slightly hunched; under the moonlight, he could vaguely make out that the figure was wearing a leather coat.

"Don't move! Hands behind your head."

Before he could finish the practiced line from the depths of his memory, an iron pot came flying at him.

Damn you!

Seeing his cooking gear being thrown at him, Kraun cursed inwardly and agilely shifted his stance to dodge the pot.

Don't blame me if I hurt or kill you!

He ducked to the wall outside the door, waiting for the pot to fly past before preparing to dash into the room and unload a volley on that completely shameless creature.

With his current marksmanship, he wouldn't actually kill the target as long as he didn't aim for vital areas.

Although angry, the crime of stealing food didn't warrant death.

Unless they were starving, most people wouldn't do something like this.

But to steal his food, get caught red-handed, and then smash his face with his own pot—this was beyond what he could tolerate!

A low growl emanated from the room, and at the same time, a black shadow followed the iron pot, rushing out to stop in the middle of the road to confront Kraun.

As the moonlight outside grew brighter, he saw the shadow's appearance clearly.

What kind of face was this monster wearing?

The face was covered in hair, with yellowish-brown eyes flickering with a cold, eerie light, a long snout, and pointed ears standing upright—it was clearly a wolf's head growing on a human body.

Its entire body was covered in thick, black fur, and its wide-open mouth dripped with saliva.

It was a werewolf, looking exactly like Lucian's transformed state in Underworld.

The werewolf took a step forward with its powerful hind legs and let out a roar with its mouth wide open.

"Awoooo!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" A continuous string of gunfire greeted it.

Although Kraun was shocked by his own bad luck, his instincts made him pull the trigger without hesitation.

The sounds of gunfire and roaring spread through the silent night.

Having participated in a battle to exterminate a Goat-Headed Monster alongside a priest, he understood the toughness of these dark creatures.

Ordinary bullets couldn't pierce their resilient muscle tissue, so he aimed for the werewolf's gaping maw and eyes.

The werewolf's reaction speed to danger was faster than he had expected; the first bullet had barely left the barrel before the werewolf had already closed its mouth and whipped its head to the side.

After firing three shots, Kraun triggered the pistol again, firing two more rounds toward the werewolf's ears.

The bullets missed the werewolf's vitals, merely grazing its cheeks.

By the time the second round of shots was fired, the werewolf was already crouched on the ground, letting out a low growl before charging toward the young man.

Damn it, are all dark creatures this fast?!

Facing the lunging werewolf, Kraun dodged to the side.

He had only one bullet left in his revolver; if he couldn't seize the opportunity to deal enough fatal damage, he would likely die here.

He activated the ability of the Time Sand, freezing the space around him.

In the nick of time, he hunched over and narrowly avoided the pounce, causing the werewolf to slam into the wall.

Perhaps the werewolf's momentum was too strong, or perhaps his ability was still too weak, but he only managed to delay the creature for a split second before feeling the Time Sand in the hourglass run dry.

"Thud!"

A dull impact sound echoed, and Kraun felt a sympathetic pain just hearing it.

Fortunately, the monster wasn't very bright; he acted on the thought, his movements remaining swift.

Strike while the iron is hot. He fired a shot backhanded.

At such close range, with his level of marksmanship, there was no such thing as a miss.

With a fierce expression and his hopes pinned on the shot, the brass-colored bullet struck the werewolf in the forehead, right around the temple.

The werewolf let out a shrill howl, pushed itself up with its forelimbs, and disappeared into the end of the street in a few leaps.

It didn't even die from that?

Kraun opened his mouth in astonishment; at such close range, the bullet hadn't even been able to pierce the werewolf's skull.

At the Goat Inn, Geralt suddenly put down the rag he was using to wipe his sword and exchanged a look with Alan beside him.

"A werewolf's howl, no mistake."

Geralt swiftly sheathed his sword, slung it across his back, opened the window, and leaped out.

Alan likewise shouldered his longsword and followed close behind.

Another gunshot rang out from the distance, and Geralt pointed with his arm:

"That direction, move."

The two men sprinted like hunting leopards, agilely rushing toward the source of the sound.

When the two witchers arrived, Kraun was stooping to pick up his iron pot.

"What happened?" Geralt asked, as he always did.

The man offered a dry smile: "As you can see, a werewolf broke into my home and smashed the pot I use to eat!"

"Let's go inside."

The three entered the room, and Kraun lit an oil lamp, brightening the interior.

Large patches of grease stained the table, and a few pieces of chicken lay there in silence.

The door leading to the backyard hung by only half a hinge.

Pulling up a few chairs, the group sat down, and Kraun recounted what he had encountered upon returning home.

"I heard movement inside just as I reached the door. In the end, I struck the werewolf in the head; it must have sensed the threat of death and fled. If it hadn't run, I would have been the one in danger."

At the end, Kraun voiced his confusion: "Isn't it said that those evil people influenced by dark powers only transform into werewolves on the night of a full moon?"

Geralt did not answer, remaining silent.

Alan took up the conversation: "Not necessarily. Some turn into werewolves at night and return to their normal human forms during the day."

The witcher added softly: "Werewolves are vengeful. Once its wounds heal, it will surely come for you. You need to take some necessary precautions."

Kraun felt rather annoyed.

What kind of mess was this? Disaster strikes from the heavens while one is simply sitting at home.

He had been planning to lay low for a while, brew potions to make money, and then train with the priest.

"Mr. Geralt, you say I have become a Spirit Controller, so why am I still no match for these monsters at all?"

"Creatures like werewolves and vampires are considered monsters; their physical attributes are exceptionally superior. The Evil Spirit you have bonded with likely has more of an aptitude for magic, which is why you haven't enjoyed any physical enhancements. Besides, you only became a Spirit Controller a few days ago and haven't received formal training yet; it's perfectly normal that you're no match for a monster."

"I suggest you find time to visit a large city with an agency that handles supernatural incidents and register with the authorities. Although you will be subject to some constraints, they will also provide some assistance and help you gradually integrate into the circle of mystics."