Predator Alert chapter 10

Seo Kanghyun fell backward, and the container of side dishes crashed to the ground.

Jeongseo quickly ran toward him.

“Puppy!”

The dog eventually pounced on Seo Kanghyun, baring its long snout and revealing sharp teeth.

This wasn’t just a dog—it was a wolf.

Just as Seo Kanghyun was about to scream, his face turned pale, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“If you bite my brother, I’ll be mad at you!”

“Mad at you, mad at you,” Jeongseo’s voice echoed loudly.

The dog’s mouth, which had been inches away from Seo Kanghyun’s throat, froze.

Seizing the moment, Jeongseo wrapped his arms around the dog’s waist and pulled it back.

“Careful, don’t!”

Contrary to Seo Kanghyun’s alarm, the dog meekly allowed itself to be pulled back.

The fierce demeanor vanished as the dog drooped its long, vertical ears and looked up at Jeongseo.

The black eyes glistened as if tears were welling up.

Seeing those eyes, Jeongseo suddenly felt a pang of sadness. The dog let out a weak, deflated whimper.

“No, I’m not mad at you. I misspoke.”

Only then did the dog completely flatten its ears, lie down on the ground, and crawl toward Jeongseo. Its tail swished back and forth, stirring up dust.

Animals that have been abandoned become timid.

The experience of being abruptly cast out from a comfortable life is unforgettable, and they never want to go through it again.

Jeongseo squatted down and petted the dog’s head.

The dog’s tail wagged even faster.

Seo Kanghyun, who had been staring blankly, smacked his lips.

“Uh… Baby, sorry to interrupt this touching moment, but maybe we should clean this up first?”

The large container lay on the ground. Fortunately, the lid hadn’t come off, but one side had cracked, causing red liquid to seep out.

Jeongseo hesitated for a moment, then pointed at Seo Kanghyun with his finger.

“Puppy, this is my brother. He’s family, okay? You can’t threaten him.”

The dog barked as if it understood.

“Is… is that really a dog?”

Seo Kanghyun asked cautiously, and Jeongseo tilted his head.

“Probably?”

It wasn’t a very confident answer.

°❀•°❀°•❀°

The cooler had also been kicked and rolled over by the dog, leaving its contents in disarray.

After cleaning up everything, including a side dish that had spilled out of its open container, it was almost 9 PM.

Jeongseo sat on the wooden floor, wrapped in a blanket, looking up at the sky.

The cloudless night sky was filled with stars, almost overwhelming in their brilliance.

Sometimes, when he looked up at the sky like this, he felt as if he might be sucked into that vast night sky.

The cool breeze rustled his brown hair, and the croaking of frogs that had just awakened from their winter sleep echoed in the air.

“Baby, aren’t you cold?”

Instead of answering, Jeongseo flicked his tail. his gaze remained fixed on the sky.

Seo Kanghyun, who had just towel-dried his wet hair, sat down beside him.

He followed his gaze to the sky and then looked over at the dog lying in the yard.

“Baby, are you planning to keep that dog? No owner has come looking for it?”

Her deep brown eyes slowly shifted down to the dog.

“The dog’s been wandering around here for about three weeks.”

So it had been abandoned.

“Maybe we should build a doghouse in the yard.”

“A doghouse?” Jeongseo tilted his head in curiosity.

“It could be dangerous if such a large dog roams the village freely. If you’re going to take care of it, it might be better to keep it tied up in the yard.”

“But the dog doesn’t come to our house every day. It’s still…”

It’s still waiting for its owner.

Jeongseo swallowed the words, feeling a twinge of sympathy.

The dog continued to stare blankly at passing cars, just as it had at Gangsan Hill, the place where it had been abandoned.

Lately, the dog had been spending more time at his house, but late at night, its mournful howls still echoed from Gangsan Hill.

“The dog probably realizes by now that its owner isn’t coming back. So why not become its new family?”

“Family…”

“I worry about you living here alone, too. Having a big dog around would be good for security.”

Seo Kanghyun wished he could take Jeongseo back to his home in Seoul.

But knowing how much he would miss this place if he left, he suppressed his own selfish desires.

A sibling who suddenly appeared when he was 11.

A newborn who was so sick that his survival seemed like a miracle had grown up healthy and strong.

His desire for his happiness outweighed his personal wishes, allowing him to keep his hopes to himself.

“Wouldn’t the dog be miserable if it was tied up?”

“But it would be worse if it got caught in a trap, hit by a car, or captured due to a complaint.”

“….”

He was right.

Gangsan Hill was in the mountains, where traps were often set for deer or boar, and the steep, rugged terrain led to frequent car accidents.

Jeongseo suddenly stood up.

Seo Kanghyun quickly caught the blanket as it slipped off him.

Jeongseo slipped on his sandals and approached the dog.

The dog, which had been lying down, perked up its ears, but its tail wagged faintly.

“Puppy.”

The dog opened its eyes and lifted its head.

“Why don’t you stop going back to Gangsan Hill and live with me instead? Let’s be a family.”

The dog wagged its tail enthusiastically at the sound of Jeongseo’s voice.

It had been emaciated when he first found it, but now it had gained a bit of weight.

Seo Kanghyun, who had been watching them with satisfaction, asked, “How about giving it a name?”

A name… a name.

Jeongseo stared at the dog for a moment.

Its fur, a mix of gray, brown, and black, was striking and handsome, and its large size and long, upright ears gave it a dignified appearance.

But there was still an unshakable sadness in its dark eyes.

“How about Seobok? How do you like that for your name?”

At that moment, the dog barked loudly.

Jeongseo’s eyes widened, and he asked again, “Do you like Seobok?”

The dog barked again, as if it had understood.

Jeongseo smiled brightly and petted the dog’s head.

“Hyung! From now on, this one’s name is Seobok!”

The excited voice seemed to warm up the chilly night air. So Kanghyun neatly folded the blanket and approached Jeongseo.

“Seobok? Does that mean a bundle of fortune?”

“No, I took it from the word ‘happiness.’ To make him happy.”

“That’s a nice name. But since it’s ‘So,’ it sounds like small happiness.”

So Kanghyun said playfully, but Jeongseo’s expression, looking up at him, was quite serious.

“No, hyung. ‘Seo’ means ‘revival.’ It means happiness revived.”

So Kanghyun had forgotten that too. He murmured quietly, “That’s right, it was ‘revival’.”

If Jeongseo hadn’t mentioned it today, he might never have recalled it, and there wouldn’t have been a need to.

There were plenty of other things to worry about, so knowing the Chinese character for his surname wasn’t a priority.

Small details are easily forgotten if you don’t pay attention to them.

“It’s a good name, Seobok.”

So Kanghyun patted Jeongseo’s head.

“Shall we go to the vet tomorrow, and then buy a house, a leash, some food, and other things for Seobok?”

“Yeah, sounds good!”

Following Jeongseo’s lively voice, Seobok barked, “Woof, woof!”

Jeongseo woke up to the sound of a rooster crowing.

He stretched out his long body as he always slept in his weasel form.

As he squirmed out from under the blanket, he noticed a pillow beside him, but no person.

His brother had left last night, and once again, the house was empty.

In the quiet room, even the rustling of the blanket sounded loud. It was a routine occurrence, but the subtle loneliness that crept in was unavoidable.

In moments like this, he sometimes felt a lingering desire to just return to the family home in Seoul.

The weasel stretched out his short front and hind legs, licking them absentmindedly.

He needed to get ready for school, but he was feeling lazy.

As the small weasel squirmed on the blanket, Seobok barked from outside, “Woof!”

“That’s right, Seobok’s food!”

In an instant, Jeongseo transformed back into his human form, though his ears and tail were still visible.

He quickly threw on some clothes, scooped up some food from the next room, and headed out. Seobok was already on the veranda, wagging his tail.

“Seobok, let’s eat.”

Seobok barked, “Woof!” Although he was tied to a leash, it was long enough for him to reach most of the yard.

With the sound of the metal chain dragging, Seobok followed Jeongseo. He had lost a bit of freedom, but his steps were lighter than before.

Jeongseo, too, no longer felt that hollow loneliness.

There was a small sign attached to the doghouse they arrived at together, which read, “Wolfdog, Seobok’s House,” with a clumsily drawn paw print.

Seobok was a wolfdog.