A splendid carriage drawn by four horses rolled through the gates of a modest manor.

  Perhaps alerted by the sound of wheels crunching over gravel, two children — a boy and a girl, no more than seven or eight — came running out of a grand five-story English-style house.

  “Father! Father!”

  They called out in delight, dashing eagerly toward the halted carriage.

  A middle-aged man, dressed in clothes that bespoke wealth and status, stepped down and spread his arms wide to embrace them.

  “Oh, how I’ve missed you, my darlings!”

  He handed a brief instruction to his coachman, then carried the two children over to a nearby fountain and sat down.

  “My dear ones,” he said with a hint of mystery, “can you guess what I’ve brought for you this time?”

  The children’s faces lit up with curiosity. “What is it? Is it something delicious?”

  The man chuckled, reaching into his coat pocket. He drew out two small boxes and handed one to each child. “Go on, open them.”

  As soon as the lids lifted, delighted cries rang out.

  Inside each box rested the same exquisite trinket — something akin to a music box, delicate and intricate in design.

  When opened, the tiny gears within began to turn, producing a melody both pure and mesmerizing.

  No child could resist such a charming toy; in their excitement, each planted a kiss on their father’s cheek.

  “Come, let me show you how it works,” the man said with a warm smile. But before he could continue, a voice called from the distance:

  “Mr. Hank! There’s a visitor at the farm — says he’s here to buy livestock!”

  Hank frowned slightly, then turned and called back, “Tell him to wait a bit — I’ll be right there.”

  He looked again at his children, regret flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry, little ones, but duty calls. Daddy needs to make money. Go play with the nanny for now, alright?”

  The children’s smiles faltered.

  “Father,” the girl said softly, “don’t we already have lots of money? Why do you still need to work? Can’t you stay?”

  “Even great fortunes can one day be spent, sweetheart,” Hank said gently.

  After a few more words of comfort, the children reluctantly walked toward the waiting nanny. Hank watched them go, a trace of melancholy clouding his gaze.

  He didn’t notice, however, that the moment his daughter turned away, her expression shifted — the sweetness vanished, replaced by something dark and chilling.

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  In a voice barely above a whisper, she murmured, “You ruined my plan. I’ll deal with that meddlesome fool soon enough.”

  …

  When Hank reached his farm, he immediately spotted the visitor — a young man dressed neatly, though his trousers bore a slightly unusual cut. Overall, he left a favorable impression.

  Glenn had already toured much of the farm and noted the healthy state of the livestock. The estate was divided into several sections, each managed by four or five workers — an arrangement that filled him with admiration.

  At that moment, Glenn was watching the cattle within the pen when Hank approached.

  “Good day, sir,” Hank greeted, extending his hand. “My worker tells me you’re here to purchase livestock?”

  Glenn nodded. “Yes. I’m starting a farm of my own.”

  “Is that so? Then perhaps I can offer some advice,” Hank replied cordially.

  The two quickly fell into conversation about farm management — though unbeknownst to Hank, Glenn was quietly studying him.

  From the moment he’d drawn near, Glenn had caught a faint scent — something eerily similar to the magical aura that lingered on the beast fang he carried. The sensation had dissipated quickly, yet he was certain it wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

  After several fruitless attempts to discern its source, Glenn let the matter drop. The outer regions of the kingdom were known for their oddities — encountering strange beasts or cursed creatures here was hardly uncommon.

  Once Hank learned the scale of Glenn’s venture, he personally helped him select a few hardy breeds suitable for beginners. Glenn, knowing little about such matters, accepted the advice readily.

  “Mr. Hank, with such a vast farm, your income must be considerable,” Glenn remarked casually after their deal was settled.

  Hank gave a modest smile, though pride gleamed in his eyes. “Not as much as you’d think. This farm is but one of my small enterprises. Altogether, perhaps a little over ten thousand gold coins a year…”

  Glenn nearly choked. When he’d recovered, he said, half in jest, “For a man of such means to handle a small transaction like this personally — I must say, I’m impressed.”

  Hank waved a hand, visibly pleased. “Business is about attitude — that’s what my father taught me. Besides, I’ve two children to think of. However great one’s wealth, it won’t last forever if you don’t plan ahead.”

  “You make a fair point,” Glenn agreed.

  They chatted a while longer before Glenn took his leave — he had much to prepare before his livestock could be delivered.

  But he hadn’t gone far when he noticed a small girl seated on a boulder by the roadside, watching him intently. She looked to be around seven or eight.

  Glenn’s eyes narrowed slightly. After a brief moment of thought, he smiled. “You must be Hank’s daughter, aren’t you?”

  The girl didn’t answer. Her face bore none of a child’s innocence; instead, her eyes burned with a dreadful gloom.

  “You’re the one who ruined my plan to seize Hank’s body,” she hissed. “The perfect moment is gone — now I’ll kill you!”

  “What nonsense are you spouting?” Glenn said irritably. He was already certain this was indeed Hank’s daughter — the same aura clung to her as to the man himself.

  With a snarl, the girl’s small frame ignited with dark fire, and she lunged toward him.

  But Glenn merely reached out and caught her with one hand. The blazing flames met a thick layer of fur — and fizzled harmlessly.

  Magic fire, yes, but useless against the wolf-hide enchanted with resistance.

  “What are you? You’re no ordinary human!” she cried, panic creeping into her voice as she kicked and struggled.

  When escape proved futile, her eyes flickered with hatred and desperate resolve.

  The flames around her suddenly vanished. For an instant, Glenn hesitated — and in that moment, something black burst from the back of her neck, shooting away like an arrow.

  Reacting instinctively, Glenn lunged and grabbed for it — his fingers brushed its slick, slippery surface, but it wriggled free.

  Setting the girl gently down, he sprinted after it.

  The black thing moved with astonishing speed, bounding across the ground in rapid bursts — within moments, it had covered a hundred meters.

  Glenn gathered his strength, his speed surging as his hands grew larger, rougher — more beast than man.

  In a heartbeat, he overtook the fleeing shadow and brought both palms together, trapping it firmly within his grasp.