Chapter 1
Beast God Continent, Snow Wolf Tribe.
At daybreak, sunlight filtered through the withered branches and into the tribal settlement, bringing with it a faint trace of warmth.
The hunting party, made up of the tribe’s strongest members, had already departed in the middle of the night. The gathering team, which could only search the snow for fallen fruits and edible roots, left the cave as dawn broke. The only ones remaining in the settlement were the elderly beastmen, young beastmen who were too frail, gravely injured, pregnant, or otherwise unable to venture out, along with a handful of cubs.
Several beastmen sat around the fire at the cave entrance. The atmosphere was heavy.
Today marked the third day since they had migrated here.
Half a month earlier, the Snow Wolf Tribe had been forced to abandon the homeland they had lived in for generations and search for new territory. But every suitable place to live had long since been claimed by other tribes. Even passing along the edges of another tribe’s land carried the risk of attack, making the journey incredibly difficult.
Fortunately, they had found a place to settle before their food completely ran out.
Unfortunately, they had been attacked several times along the migration route by primitive beasts and rogue beastmen, losing nearly half their tribe.
Among the injured, the one in the worst condition was the chief’s younger brother, Lang Shuo. Gravely wounded, he had remained unconscious ever since.
The medicinal herbs left behind by the old priest before his death had all been used up. Lang Shuo’s injuries were far too severe. No one knew whether he would survive.
Inside the cave.
A slender silver-haired youth lay against the stone wall beneath a layer of black animal hide. Against the dark fur, his complexion looked even paler, completely devoid of color. Only the faint rise and fall of his chest proved he was still alive.
Suddenly, his brows drew tightly together, pain spreading across his face as though he were trapped in a terrible nightmare.
Not far away, a pile of snowy white wolf cubs slept huddled together. Even in their sleep they kicked one another. One woke up, shook its head, then crawled—with its eyes still closed—on top of another cub before promptly falling asleep again.
Another cub was awakened by the commotion. It stretched out both front paws, trying hard to cover its ears and eyes. Unfortunately, its paws were too short and its head too big, leaving everything exposed.
In the end, the cub opened its eyes, looked at the adult beastmen by the cave entrance, then at the youth lying inside the cave.
Finally making up its mind, it toddled toward him.
When it reached his side, something white peeking out from beneath the animal hide caught its attention. It flopped onto its belly, stretched out a paw, and began earnestly pawing at the tuft of white fur.
After a long while, the youth’s eyelashes trembled.
Then, slowly, he opened his eyes, awakening from his long unconsciousness. His dazed gaze landed on the rough stone ceiling overhead—and froze.
Shouldn’t I be in a hospital?
Qin Shuo remembered working overtime, checking financial accounts, when an agonizing pain had suddenly clenched around his heart.
The next instant, everything had gone black.
Before losing consciousness, countless memories of his life had flashed through his mind.
His greatest regret…
…was never truly enjoying life.
His entire life had been nothing but work.
Always busy.
There were so many things he had never gotten the chance to do.
He had imagined several possibilities after death, but never this.
Opening his eyes in a strange place, with a stranger’s memories in his head.
The good news was…
He was still alive.
The bad news was…
He was seriously injured. The only parts of his body he could move freely were his eyes.
And he was obviously no longer on Earth.
Oh.
In this life, his name was Lang Shuo.
He had only just recovered the memories from before transmigrating. The two sets of memories had collided, leaving most of his previous life’s memories intact, while the memories of this life had become frustratingly blurry. He would have to recover them little by little. Right now, he only remembered the most basic things.
This place was called the Beast God Continent.
Its era resembled Earth’s prehistoric age, except there were no ordinary humans.
Carnivorous creatures were divided into two categories: evolved species and primitive species.
The difference?
Whether they could transform into humans.
The evolved species were further divided according to their original forms into beastfolk, birdfolk, and merfolk. Judging from his surname, he was now a wolf beastman.
There was far too little information about this world in his mind.
Lang Shuo tried forcing himself to remember more.
Instead, he was greeted by a splitting headache.
Not just his head—his arms, waist, legs…
Everything hurt.
Some unidentified part of his body even tingled with a faint itch.
Every sensation felt unfamiliar.
Forget it.
The world’s doomed.
Lang Shuo closed his eyes, utterly exhausted in both body and mind.
“Whine…”
A short, soft whimper sounded beside him.
Lang Shuo’s eyes snapped open.
What was that?
The sound had come from right next to him.
With considerable effort, he turned his head.
There, beside him, was a snow-white fluffball no bigger than his palm.
The tiny fluffball was pure white from head to tail. Whether because it was chubby or simply had exceptionally long fur, its entire body looked like a ball. Lang Shuo stared at it for a long while before finally figuring out which end was its head.
The fluffball had no idea anyone was watching.
It was struggling valiantly to bite at the thing it had painstakingly dug out.
Unfortunately, its strength matched its size.
After chewing for ages, the tuft of white fur had done nothing more than become slightly damp with saliva.
Something feels… off.
A moment later, realization dawned on Lang Shuo.
The little furball was chewing on him.
As for that faintly itchy mystery body part…
Apparently it was his tail.
Right.
He was a wolf beastman.
Having a tail was perfectly normal.
Lang Shuo reluctantly accepted reality and continued observing the fluffball.
Knowledge surfaced in his mind automatically.
Beastmen were social creatures. While retaining many of the instincts unique to their beast forms, members of the same tribe tended to have cubs around the same time. When parents went out to gather food, they often left cubs of the same age together to be raised collectively.
If there was one cub here…
Then that meant—
Slowly, Lang Shuo turned his head.
Even though he had already guessed the answer, the sight before him still left him stunned.
Just a few steps away…
There wasn’t just one fluffball.
There was a whole pile of them.
Ever since childhood, Lang Shuo had been completely helpless against fluffy animals.
Whenever he saw stray cats or dogs on campus, he would always stop to pet them for a while before hurrying to class at the last minute.
When he worked part-time, petting the stray cats that lounged in the flowerbeds outside his dorm before heading back each evening was enough to wash away the day’s exhaustion.
Then came his internship.
His workplace was too far from school.
That little daily comfort disappeared too.
Thinking back on it now, Lang Shuo felt that the reason he’d worked himself to death wasn’t just because his inhuman boss had forced an intern to do the work of three people, leaving work at three in the morning only to wake up at five for another shift.
There was another, even more important reason.
He hadn’t seen anything fluffy for an entire month.
But now…
There was no internship.
No overtime.
Only…
A whole pile of fluff.
Every single one of those fluffy little balls belonged to his tribe.
Rounding up…
They were all his.
In an instant, his dizziness vanished.
His back no longer hurt.
Even the wounds on his arms didn’t seem like such a big deal anymore.
If not for his badly injured leg, he felt like he could get up and walk around.
There was no problem a single fluffy creature couldn’t solve.
And if there was…
Then a whole group certainly could.
Adult wolves in their beast forms were enormous, fiercer than almost any animal he’d ever seen in his previous life. Combined with his muddled memories, Lang Shuo hadn’t even remembered the tribe had so many fluffy little cubs until he saw them now.
His eyes never left the cubs.
Carefully feeling which parts of his body were injured, he slowly extended his uninjured hand toward the nearest fluffball.
He touched it.
A tiny, warm little bundle.
Pure satisfaction flooded him.
Suddenly, transmigrating didn’t seem so bad after all.
At least there were so many fluffy creatures to admire.
Far better than an internship where the workload increased but the salary didn’t.
He gently rubbed the cub several times.
Only then did he realize that the little fluffball was all fur.
There was barely any meat beneath it.
The stray cats and dogs on campus had all been well-fed, solid little chonks. Even their kittens and puppies had been adorably plump.
This was the first time he’d ever touched such a skinny fluffball.
His heart ached.
He only wished he had something to feed it.
It wasn’t until the cub beside him whimpered again that Lang Shuo snapped back to reality.
Perhaps because they were the same species…
He understood exactly what the cub meant.
It was crying from hunger.
His first instinct was to look down for food.
But apart from the animal hide covering him, all he seemed to be wearing was a thin underlayer made from some unknown material.
Forget food.
There wasn’t even any water.
As the thought crossed his mind, he suddenly realized how thirsty he was.
His mouth was parched, as though he hadn’t had a drink in days.
The pain throughout his body had simply overshadowed the discomfort until now.
The cave contained no one except himself—the wounded patient—and a pile of fluffy cubs.
He had no idea what was happening outside.
Not daring to call for help, he simply stroked the cub’s back gently, soothing it as best he could.
Just as Lang Shuo was at a complete loss, hurried footsteps echoed from the cave entrance.
A joyful shout followed.
“Shuo, you’re awake? That’s wonderful! You’re finally awake!”
A slender figure, both familiar and unfamiliar, rushed into view first.
Lang Shuo searched his memories for a moment before recalling her identity.
His cousin, Lang Yun.
Of course, in the beast world there weren’t countless complicated forms of address. People generally called peers and younger generations directly by name. Only elders and one’s own siblings were given honorifics after their names—or simply addressed by the title itself—as a sign of respect and closeness.
While Lang Shuo was sorting through those relationships, a young man poked his head out from behind Lang Yun.
“Shuo, does anything hurt? Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?”
Lang Shuo: “…”
Honestly…
Everything hurt.
The pain in his leg was overwhelming.
His head felt like it’d been smashed with a hammer.
His brain buzzed.
It felt like every inch of him was in pain.
The young man quickly realized he’d asked an utterly pointless question.
He slapped himself hard on the forehead.
Smack!
The sound echoed clearly through the empty cave.
Even Lang Shuo winced for him.
He was also a little envious.
Only someone without injuries could smack themselves that hard.
As for him…
Forget slapping his forehead.
He’d have to think twice before even patting his own thigh in case he hit the wrong leg and made his injuries worse.
Lang Yun shoved aside the scatterbrained youth.
“Nuo, go bring some water.”
Then she crouched beside Lang Shuo and carefully checked his wounds. Seeing that none of the external injuries had started bleeding again, she visibly relaxed.
Lang Shuo was still dizzy.
His throat was painfully dry.
Since he didn’t yet understand the situation, he simply pointed at his throat, indicating that he couldn’t really speak for the moment.
Lang Yun misunderstood.
“You’re thirsty? The water will be here right away.”
She immediately called toward the entrance again, urging Lang Nuo to hurry.
The boy named Lang Nuo answered while carefully carrying over a bamboo tube.
The water was somewhat cold, but Lang Shuo couldn’t care less.
With Lang Yun and Lang Nuo supporting him, he tilted his head back and drank.
After a full drink of water, it felt as though every organ in his body had been nourished.
Even his mind became clearer.
For a fleeting moment, fragments of memory flashed through his consciousness.
But they vanished so quickly that he wondered whether he’d imagined them.
Soon, several more tribe members gathered nearby.
All of them wore smiles.
None interrupted him while he drank.
Once they confirmed he was truly awake, the atmosphere lightened considerably.
Someone started to ask a question but was immediately shooed away by Lang Yun to tend the fire, watch the cubs, and incidentally carry away the little cub beside Lang Shuo.
Lang Shuo was somewhat reluctant.
But guessing they were about to feed the cubs, he didn’t stop them.
He watched as Lang Yun set the little cub back among the others.
His gaze remained fixed there.
Then he saw one of the beastmen pour several bowls of an unknown mush into a large stone tray.
Every cub charged forward at once, scrambling over one another.
Before long, the tray was completely clean.
The beastman who had fed them simply picked up the tray and walked away.
There was clearly no intention of giving them any more.
Lang Shuo: “???”
He’d clearly seen one of the cubs eat only a single bite!
The cubs accepted reality faster than he did.
Seeing there was no more food, they crawled or toddled back to where they’d been before.
They licked each other’s fur.
Then, while licking, they gradually fell asleep.
Apparently, sleeping was their way of enduring hunger.
Lang Shuo’s heart hurt even more.
Watching fluffy little creatures go hungry was harder than starving himself.
When Lang Yun returned carrying food, she noticed the distress in his eyes and looked a little surprised.
Still, she held the food up to his mouth.
Lang Shuo looked at the dried roasted meat before shifting his gaze back toward the cubs.
He hadn’t been hungry to begin with.
Clearing his throat with a couple of raspy coughs, he forced out the words through his ruined voice.
“…Should we… give some to the cubs?”
“Huh?”
Lang Yun hadn’t expected him to suddenly speak, much less suggest sharing his food with the cubs.
She shook her head.
“Shuo, you’re injured. Heal first. Now isn’t the time to worry about the cubs.”
Ever since childhood, Lang Shuo had been different from the other cubs.
For a time, many tribe members had even suspected he was simple-minded.
Only Lang Yu had stubbornly insisted that his little brother simply didn’t like talking.
Over time, everyone accepted that explanation, including Lang Yun.
Still, she’d always felt there was something slightly odd about Lang Shuo.
The current Lang Shuo was different.
Not only had he suddenly started talking, but the strange awkwardness she’d always sensed had disappeared.
For some reason, Lang Yun had the inexplicable feeling…
…that this was what Lang Shuo was supposed to be like.
Normal or not, though, he still had to eat.
Beastmen possessed remarkable healing abilities.
Once they regained consciousness, they were generally no longer in mortal danger.
Provided they had enough food.
If he refused to eat, Lang Shuo would soon grow too weak and fall unconscious again.
After hesitating for a moment, Lang Shuo had to admit she was right.
He’d only just gotten this life back.
He wanted to keep living.
The food Lang Yun had brought him was a piece of roasted meat.
Its surface was charred black.
Among the tribe’s pitiful remaining food supplies, it was considered the best.
The freezing temperatures of the snow season had kept it from spoiling.
The jerky had been prepared with the simplest possible method.
The entire piece was dry and tough, carrying a heavy smoky flavor.
Fortunately, this body’s teeth were already accustomed to such coarse food and had no trouble chewing it.
To make digestion easier, Lang Shuo chewed each bite thoroughly while casually asking Lang Yun about the tribe.
His memories contained only vague information.
He knew his own name was Lang Shuo.
He knew his older brother was the tribe’s chief.
He knew the tribe had recently moved here.
Everything else would have to be recalled bit by bit.
Whenever he saw a familiar face or heard something familiar, related memories surfaced naturally.
Just like recognizing Lang Yun almost immediately after seeing her.
Trying to recover everything on his own was far too slow.
Having someone help would be much faster.
Hearing his questions, Lang Yun became even happier.
In the past, Lang Shuo had never paid attention to matters like these.
Now he was asking about the tribe.
That was a good sign.
With that thought, she recounted everything that had happened over the past few days.
“We only finished marking out the territory two days ago. Today the chief took the hunting party out to look for food. Yesterday the gathering team brought back some edible roots, but there weren’t many, and everyone finished them. Everyone else has already woken up. You were the only one who stayed unconscious…”
From her words, Lang Shuo quickly pieced together the tribe’s current situation.
They had only just settled in new territory.
Their foundation was unstable.
The land was barren.
The weather was freezing.
Food was scarce.
There were too many mouths to feed and far too little meat.
The cubs were crying from hunger.
Everything was waiting to be rebuilt.
He wanted to ask more about the tribe’s members.
Unfortunately, he had only just awakened, and his energy was limited.
One piece of jerky had exhausted what little strength he had left.
After speaking only a few more sentences, overwhelming drowsiness washed over him.
Reluctantly, he gave up.
The cave was safe for now.
There would be plenty of time to ask later after he had rested.
Noticing his fatigue, Lang Yun stopped speaking.
“Shuo, get some more sleep. We can talk about everything else later.”
She had never studied medicine under the old priest, but she’d cared for plenty of wounded beastmen.
She knew that besides food and water, injured beastmen needed plenty of sleep to recover quickly.
Lang Shuo nodded.
He closed his eyes.
As his consciousness drifted away, he heard Lang Yun quietly leave the cave and say something to the tribe members who had grown excited over his awakening.
Before long, everything outside fell silent.
The only sounds remaining were his own breathing and the soft breaths of the sleeping cubs.
After sinking into a deep sleep, Lang Shuo once again saw those familiar memories.
This time, they no longer vanished in an instant.
Instead, the memories of his previous life unfolded slowly and clearly in his mind.
Every detail.
Even the tiny things he had long since forgotten.
