Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 34: Found You

Fifty-one years ago, the hunter woke up on the bed in the cabin.

The flames in the fireplace roared, the crackling of burning wood mixed with the howling of the blizzard outside. Despite the loud sounds, the room felt incredibly silent.

The grogginess of sleep faded from his mind, and the hunter got out of bed, wandering around a bit aimlessly.

He soon found a mirror, and the dirty mirror reflected a young face—the hunter had light blue eyes and deep brown hair that was thick and curly like bear fur. His lips were full, and the corners of his mouth turned up, as if he always carried a hint of a smile. But in his eyes, his face only showed confusion.

‘My name is Hunter, nineteen years old, a hunter,’ he thought to himself, looking around the familiar yet unfamiliar cabin.

There wasn’t much in the room. The cutlery and wooden chairs were simple, hunting equipment neatly arranged against the wall. Other than the bed, there was only a round dining table and a long desk. The desk held a few miscellaneous books and an opened letter.

A small letter opener lay beside the letter, gleaming new.

The letter’s writer claimed to be his friend, greeted him simply, and brought news of his long-lost relatives—they were all “players”, often busy, and it was uncertain when they might visit.

[This is fate, my friend.] The letter ended.

Relatives. Hunter thought blankly. Indeed, he had been orphaned since childhood, raised in this empty log cabin, always longing to see his family. When the players come to visit, he must treat them well and face them honestly. If all his relatives were good people, he could tell them the story of the white wolf…

But why couldn’t he go find his family? Why did he have to wait here?

With these thoughts, Hunter packed his bag, took up his weapon, and prepared to leave the snowy wilderness.

Strangely, on one hand, he felt like he was encountering these weapons for the first time, but on the other, he knew “how to use” them by heart. Hunter traveled through hills covered in snow, crossing towering forests, making marks along the way, marching enthusiastically.

He was going to find his family. The hunter’s cabin was cozy, but it was too empty. Hunter didn’t know how he had endured before, but he couldn’t stand being alone.

He walked from day to night and night to day. When hungry, he hunted pheasants and rabbits; when thirsty, he melted some snow to drink. He crossed snow-covered hills, crossed frozen rivers, encountered polar bears, and avoided wolf packs.

He walked for a month… maybe three months, or even half a year. Hunter didn’t count those endless days and nights. His hands became incredibly rough, his beard grew curly, covered in grease and dirt, but hope remained in his heart.

He had to keep moving. This snowy land must have an end.

At last, Hunter spotted a small log cabin in the vast snowfield. Warm light shone through the cabin’s window.

There’s someone!

Overwhelmed with emotion, Hunter shouted and rushed towards the cabin. But as he approached, his heart raced. Was it a hallucination? This cabin looked incredibly familiar.

No, no, perhaps it just looked alike. He had been away for so long; the fire should have gone out.

The door was unlocked, and Hunter cautiously pushed it open.

The fireplace roared with flames, and in the center of the table was an open letter. The lamp next to the letter shone quietly, and the letter opener still gleamed.

This was his hunter’s cabin; everything was exactly as he had left it.

[This is fate, my friend.]

Hunter felt as if all his bones were removed, leaving only the cold wind in his body. He collapsed at the door, silent for a long time.

At twenty-one, the young man would never give up easily. Hunter believed he had just taken the wrong path. Year after year, time and time again, he tried new directions, new ways to remember the route.

Ten years passed, then twenty. The starting point was always the cabin, and the endpoint was always this same cabin.

Along the way, Hunter saw countless desperate messages from those trapped. He once thought of saving an ordinary person, just to have someone by his side. But he couldn’t do it—

Once, he encountered a young man nearly frozen to death. The man cried out for help, but in a split second, Hunter completely forgot his rescue plan.

He had to wait for the players; this man didn’t deserve to enter the hunter’s cabin.

He had to wait for the players; this man was a disgraceful intruder.

He had to wait for the players…

So, he left the young man in the freezing night. When Hunter came to his senses and hurriedly returned, all he found was the man’s head left behind after being eaten by a wolf pack.

Time trudged on slowly, and the passionate youth turned into a dispirited middle-aged person.

Hunter no longer tried to leave. During the day, he chopped wood, hunted, and daydreamed. At night, he patrolled the forest. To not lose his ability to speak, he began talking to the air, imagining nonexistent friends and family.

It was then that Hunter encountered the white wolf.

He had, of course, tracked this suspicious white wolf before, but ever since he discovered the secret that the “white wolf was constantly being replaced”, he no longer bothered to investigate. The white wolf was gentle by nature, and out of a certain shared misery, he didn’t hunt it.

But this time, the white wolf looked only a few months old, recently weaned.

The little wolf was pure white—not the usual color for a wolf cub. It looked around in terror, instinctively calling, trying to summon its mother and pack. No wolves came for it, and the accumulating snow almost buried it.

Hunter glanced at it, then numbly turned away. This chance occurrence wasn’t great; it would die soon and be replaced by another white wolf.

‘If I died, someone else would replace me too,’ Hunter thought. Perhaps he should end it all… The thought surfaced briefly before disappearing. Hunter looked out of the window again; the fluffy wolf cub was still howling.

So noisy.

Half an hour later, cursing, Hunter stood up and warmed some deer blood. He put it in an old water bag and approached the cub.

The wolf cub, terrified, bared its teeth and shivered. It wanted to escape but only managed a feeble attempt with its limbs.

“Come, drink.” Hunter crouched down, opened the bag’s cap, releasing the pungent smell of fresh deer blood. “Drink before it gets cold.”

Probably starving, the cub hesitated, then cautiously approached. Its cold nose touched the hunter’s hand. It then turned its mouth to the bag, licking and sucking hurriedly and making continuous whining noises.

The cub was fluffy, warm, and soft to touch. Hunter’s hand trembled slightly, and he held the blood bag more firmly.

After quenching its thirst, the cub sniffed Hunter intensely, as if imprinting his scent into its soul. After sniffing, it tentatively licked his hand, rubbing its mouth against his fingers.

Hunter was stunned, his eyes inexplicably teary. Every creature on the snowy plains, from the mightiest to the weakest, was always alert and would never approach humans. When was the last time he experienced kindness from another living being…?

He stretched out his trembling hand and gently stroked the cub’s head.

From then on, the white wolf cub stayed nearby. Hunter fed it deer blood, roasted organs, root vegetables, and mashed meat. His mundane life was enriched by this new “entertainment” of caring for the wolf cub. The cub grew quickly, as young predators often do. Month by month, the white wolf developed sharp fangs and claws and could hunt the strongest stags.

Afterward, its visits to the cabin became less frequent. Hunter didn’t really mind; after all, it was a wolf, not a dog. He didn’t expect much affection from a beast.

Until one evening when Hunter was fifty-three.

During a hunt, Hunter had an accidental fall. His foot got stuck in a crevice beneath the snow layer, his ankle cut, rapidly spreading the scent of blood. He cursed silently as cold sweat formed on his forehead.

There was a pack of wolves nearby.

Sure enough, before he could free himself from the pain, pairs of glowing wolf eyes appeared from the darkness.

…This was the end. With a deep sigh, Hunter slowly put down his crossbow.

Just as he was about to close his eyes, a white figure darted in front.

His white wolf, now in its prime, stood tall and robust. It stood before Hunter, baring its fangs, growling deeply from its throat. However, being a lone wolf, its intimidation was limited. In the relentless cold, the wolf pack was always in need of food. The pack circled them for a bit and finally charged.

The first gray wolf to pounce was tackled by the white wolf, its throat bitten fiercely. Another wolf attacked the white one, tearing its flesh, staining its white fur with blood. But the white wolf stood its ground, fiercely biting back.

This time, Hunter didn’t hesitate to grab his crossbow. “You came for me, didn’t you? Come on!” Biting down hard, he aimed at the wolves attacking the white one.

……

The night grew darker. The accumulated snow melted from the warm blood, turning the surroundings muddy. Hunter’s arm had chunks of flesh torn away, and the white wolf was also riddled with wounds. After killing seven or eight wolves, the pack finally retreated.

The white wolf quietly walked up to the old hunter, signaling for support. With the wolf’s help, Hunter managed to free his stuck foot. He knelt on the blood-streaked mud, holding the blood-stained head of the white wolf tightly. The white wolf turned its face and licked away the blood and tears from his face.

“Friend,” Hunter said hoarsely. “…my friend.”

……

“After that, we’ve always looked out for each other,” Hunter said as the white wolf lay silently beside him. “I’m seventy this year, and it’s gotten so old, I thought we wouldn’t meet any players.”

Considering the white wolf and the couple couldn’t enter the hunter’s cabin, the group decided to chat in the igloo, which made it feel extremely crowded.

Hunter’s gaze towards Teest remained wary, but he had no choice but to recount everything that had happened.

Nol was deep in thought.

In the design of “Tahe”, such enclosed instances were separate maps. But the lich’s instance was placed underground, and the “Night of the Hunt” instance had become an alternate dimension. From the hunter’s description, it was almost like a miniature planet.

The strangest thing was the letter.

There was no such letter in the game. At the time, they felt that “a hunter living alone” seemed a bit lonely, so they added letters of correspondence between the hunter and his friends and family in the scene. Those letters were piled together, and they didn’t create any specific content. After all, this was just a game scene; they didn’t need to consider questions like “how the letter got in”.

Now all those blank letters had disappeared, leaving only this cryptic one emphasizing “fate”. Given this was a closed instance, how did the letter get in?

Nol suspected it had something to do with the mysterious force behind the game’s reality.

“Do you still have that letter?” Nol asked.

The old hunter gave a wry smile. “Of course, there’s so little to read here. I know what you’re looking for. The signature on the letter just reads ‘Your Friend’. The paper and envelope are nothing special.” He paused. “…No, I can’t really say that. After all, it’s the only letter I’ve received like this.”

Nol nodded. “Please find it for me. When we return, I’d like to take a look.”

“You’re going back? … Aren’t we leaving together? Didn’t we agree to stick together until the end?” Old Hunter questioned cautiously. “I really don’t mind if you stay in the house.”

Nol smiled. “It’s not that simple. We have friends to protect and the ‘intruder’ to deal with. If you’re worried, you can go back with the white wolf.”

“We will fully assist them, rest assured,” Rosen said to the old hunter, revealing a bit of his policeman demeanor.

After reassuring the old hunter, Rosen turned to Nol and said with a relaxed tone, “Thinking that we’ll be out in just over a week makes me so happy. This place is always so gloomy, and I really miss the blue sky.”

Nol guessed Rosen wanted to lighten the mood, trying to keep him from feeling guilty for potentially burdening their comrades. Unfortunately, the mood was instantly shattered by the old hunter’s question—

“What is ‘the blue sky’?” the old man asked with his cloudy eyes, cautious and curious.

The igloo fell into a deafening silence.

“…You should go back first,” Nol said with a forced smile.

The old hunter stared at him for a long time, then patted the white wolf’s head and left the igloo. As the old hunter’s figure disappeared, so did Nol’s smile.

He immediately pulled out a parchment from his bag and began scribbling calculations. Teest leaned against the wall of the igloo, unabashedly peeking at what he was doing.

Rosen took a glance, and the characters looked a bit like programming statements. Not being a programmer, he couldn’t make sense of it.

“What are you doing?” he asked curiously.

“My companion is researching magic.” Teest tilted his head. “…Hmm, it seems this is not a common research method for people from other realms.”

Rosen gritted his teeth—this kid was too sharp. Despite having a fellow countryman right in front of them, they still had to be cautious. So, Officer Rosen refrained from asking further. He instinctively reached into his pocket, seemingly searching for his phone.

“What are you doing?” Julie patted his head.

“I just find it weird,” Rosen whispered. “I have a buddy who’s a programmer. When they develop something, they release new versions and make changes from the backend… I’ve never heard of someone writing code directly in a game.”

“I’ve also never heard of growing up to be a two-meter-tall male wolfkin,” Dr. Julie replied. “We’ve already experienced something as unscientific as transmigration; why fuss about this?”

“If Xu Yue is a technician, wouldn’t he find it strange himself?” Rosen frowned. “How would he come up with this method?”

“We’ve discussed this before. Given the current unusual circumstances, don’t be suspicious of our companions.”

“Sorry, sorry. Occupational hazard…”

“I think my companion knows what he’s doing.” Teest ghosted behind the two, one hand on each person’s shoulder. “He can hear everything—both of you.”

Nol could indeed hear everything, but he didn’t care. A certain level of skepticism was necessary. If Rosen was someone who merely followed orders and acted foolishly, it’d be better for the police force to fire him sooner.

Right now, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

A quill pen glided swiftly on parchment, equations and structures forming rapidly. Nol’s eyes remained unblinking as lines of characters gradually transformed into magical runes.

[Bone Divination: Consumes 1,000 MP. Toss human or animal bones to receive a somewhat vague indication. ※ This is a trade. Your price is set. Please choose your question wisely.]

In the game, there were similar divination skills like [Divine Revelation] and [Whisper of Wisdom], but they belong to the light-oriented professions and weren’t related to a lich.

On the dark magic side, there was [Blood Gnome’s Bargain], which demanded the user offer animal blood or even life, which Nol disliked.

Clapping his hands, a skeletal rabbit emerged from the soil, obediently dispersing into random bones. Nol picked up several thin bones, his magic forming a black mist that wrapped around the white bones, creating intricate patterns.

The exchange had to be of equal value; his question couldn’t exceed the value of 1,000 MP. The higher the level or complexity of the answer, the greater the possibility of failure. He couldn’t directly ask “the truth of the world”, or the bones might respond with a string of obscenities.

His question had to be clear, concise, and have a definite answer.

Nol smirked, throwing the bones. “Tell me the incorrect coordinates of this map.”

…A basic mapping question.

This was his game, and he knew the rules of map creation—all locations had fixed coordinates. If there were hidden spaces on the map, an additional parameter would be added to the existing coordinates. Hidden spaces only existed on the universal map and couldn’t be set in instances.

The attribute of “Night of the Hunt” itself was a hidden space. According to the rules, there couldn’t be another hidden space within. Yet, with the trapped entities running all over the place and the fact that these physical save files remain undiscovered was truly strange. Knowing that the instance map had been tampered with makes things clearer.

If someone misused the rules of “Tahe”, forcefully creating hidden spaces, there would be “errors”.

Indeed, the bones danced on the ground for a moment, forming a string of parameters.

[Coordinates: 23, 7, 59, 0.1x, 0.03x?]

“Found you,” Nol whispered. “I hope this is your home, Mr. Cultist.”

“That’s it?” Teest crouched down, poking at the coordinates. “You always surprise me.”

“No, we’re far from done.” Nol waved, and the rabbit bones disappeared under the snow. “I’ve only provided a potential target. The rest is up to you.”

Teest blinked, feigning confusion.

“You’re best at hunting Eternalists, right? It’s the Night of the Hunt, Teest.” Nol stood up.

“As you command, my hunter.” Teest also stood, brushing snow from his clothes. “That guy is also from another world. If you want me to be gentle—”

“No need.” Nol smiled. “He treats this place as a ‘game’, so we’ll respond in kind.”

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The author has something to say:

Jack: Hehe, I’m hiding in the physical save files. Bet you didn’t think of that.

Nol: Who’s causing trouble in my beautiful instance? Investigate every anomaly!

…Bullseye, Jack.

Mr. Teest, the bug-fixer, is itching to move.

Actually, wolves don’t usually live this long. Just consider it a miracle of the magical world! (…

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