After twenty-eight days, Jin’s manasoul well had refilled, allowing him to perform another summoning ritual.
“So, what’s it gonna be this time?” Old Man Sid said, though his smirk betrayed his shallow show of concern. “Complete the whole trifecta? You're a snake, Catt’s a caterpillar and maybe, a worm next? Hahaha.”
Jin shot him a glare. “If you weren’t my long-time friend, Sid,” he said, “I’d shove that beer can down your throat and drown you with the rest of the pack.”
“Alright, alright,” Old Man Sid chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But the question stands. Got any clue what’s coming?”
“No idea. Might pull a dragon.” Jin laughed. “And don’t talk smack about Catt. She’d saved your decrepit arse. And your favourite idols. If not a shrine, you should’ve printed her poster and pasted it in your room instead of them girls.”
“No one touches my poster!” Old Man Sid said in half half-threatening tone. “But a shrine for Catt? Might as well build one for God, too. I mean, Bahamut.” He then went into deep thought while rubbing his chin as if he meant what he said earlier.
Jin glanced at his shirt’s pocket, where the Thousand Year Caterpillar wriggled excitedly. “You’ve been a big help, Catt. I’m happy to have you with me.”
“Y-Yes, Master!” Cattleya chimed. “I’m happy to have you as my master, too. I’ll do anything you command!”
Jin then checked with Bahamut regarding the summoning timer. Ten minutes left, until the manasoul-cosmic balance – whatever that meant – reached its peak. With Old Man Sid stuck in his sudden burst of inspiration, Jin pulled out his Player Status Screen and checked Cattleya’s growth.
Even when she was stuck at level one, her skills had grown.
Two things caught his attention.
One, the unrevealed skills marked with question marks. Neither Bahamut nor the System itself explained the conditions to reveal the skills, but Jin could hazard a few guesses.
Perhaps it had to do with level restrictions, either his own as her summoner or Cattleya’s. Or it could be the strength of the bonds between them. It might even be something else altogether, whimsical like the one who bestowed Jin his power. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to think that sheer luck and the power of emotions might be driving the revelation. But it could be left for later, when the opportune times come.
The second thing that caught Jin’s attention was the trio of new skills Cattleya gained.
What would she become?
Jin smirked. Her future had become more interesting.
“Oi, Jin!“ Old Man Sid’s gruff voice startled him. “Got a sec?”
Jin closed Cattleya’s status screen. “What’s up?”
“You’ve had your Player’s license for more than two weeks,” Old Man Sid said, gesturing with his beer can. “Why not hit a low-ranked RIFT like everyone else does? Earn some cash, gear up. You know the drill.”
Jin smirked. “Been in plenty of RIFTs, Sid. Just not as a Player.” He stepped toward the summoning circle, kneeling to fine-tune the sigils. “And after everything? I’d rather not stumble in half-cocked. Not until I know exactly what Catt and I can do.”
“Aren’t you being too cautious?”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Learnt my lessons, Sid. Anyway, enough about that. I’m going to start the ritual.”
The moment had come for Jin’s second summoning ritual.
This time, he wasn’t daydreaming about dragons or legendary beasts. After what happened previously – especially being laughed at by Old Man Sid – he’d take something normal. Practical, reliable and uncomplicated. Even another Cattleya would suffice. If he were lucky, a creature that could patch his weaknesses, amplify his strengths, or do both.
The summoning circle hummed to life, its blue glow pulsing across the cracked stone of the shrine’s courtyard. The air turned electric. Jin exhaled slowly, his fingers flexing at his sides. No expectations. No pressure.
Then the courtyard erupted in blue light.
Its brilliance swallowed the place whole, searing away the shadows of the cherry blossom tree, the weathered pillars. Jin shielded his eyes, but Old Man Sid’s turned into a flashlight – especially his bald head – in mid-swig.
“Fuck! You should’ve warned me, bastard!”
Jin chuckled under the blinding light. That’s payback for calling me a plonker last time.
When the intense glow relaxed, Jin opened his eyes. Though his vision was still blurry, something was oddly amiss.
It was Old Man Sid’s voice, rough with disbelief, that confirmed he wasn’t hallucinating.
“Are my bloody eyes failing on me, or do I see more than one of those damned things?” Old Man Sid said, his can of beer hitting the courtyard floor with deafening clanks. “Two… three… the hell?! There are twelve of them!”
Jin didn’t answer. He was too busy staring at the dozen pairs of luminous eyes.
<< Congratulations! You have successfully summoned a pack of Shadow Wolves >>
Their dark fur shimmered with an unnatural light green sheen, limb muscles coiled like springs, and their breath steamed in the warm night air.
“Hey, Bee. I thought I could only summon one creature at a time.”
Under the flowerless cherry tree – that place somehow became his favourite napping spot – Bahamut answered, his eyes still closed. “Never said that. Only a summon every time your manasoul well is full. Twenty-eight days.”
“Damn! But the whole lot of them? What can I-“
Jin’s words were interrupted by a deep growl. The largest of the pack, its eyes burning like golden embers, stepped forward.
“Are you our new lord? You look weak.”
Another System Message appeared.
<< An unnamed Shadow Wolf has decided to challenge you to a life-or-death one-versus-one battle to determine the pack’s leadership. >>
<< Will you accept? >>
“Life or death battle?” Jin said. “Nah. Not stupid enough-oh?”
<< WARNING >>
<< If you decline the challenge but decide to keep the Shadow Wolf pack as your summoned creature, you will lose its respect and thus, many of its hidden skills >>
<
<< YES or NO >>
Jin sighed, rubbing his temples. Of course, he wanted the pack. Who wouldn’t? They looked mythically badass – dark fur glowing with an ethereal sheen and golden eyes deep enough to drown a soul that even as the summoner, he felt uneasy engaging in a stare-down contest with them.
The real kicker, though?
One summon, eleven extras. Who in their right mind would say no to a deal like that?
Then again, could anything be easy for once?
***
“Damn, son,” Ironshield wheezed, unable to contain his laughter, “what on earth happened to your face? Did you get on the wrong side of a little kitty?”
Jin didn’t even glance up. He rubbed at the fresh scratches along his jawline, the ones that stung every time he twitched his face. “That ‘kitty’,” he said in a flat tone, “is a big, undisciplined, feral bastard of a dog.”
Ironshield’s grin widened as he turned to Old Man Sid. “Didn’t know you two were that close.”
Old Man Sid choked on his beer. “The fuck, baldie? If you’re implying what I think you’re implying, I swear to whatever god’s listening…”
Jin tuned them out. His fingers twitched toward his pocket, where Cattleya was no doubt listening in, amused by their exchanges.
He glanced around the courtyard, then at the large cocoon hanging by the cherry tree. The bloody wannabe alpha wolf was still trapped inside. Occasional struggles died down every time Cattleya cinched the iron maiden-like webbing tighter; the whimpers that followed sounded no more than the lamenting sigh of a night wind.
The memory of the last three nights flashed through his mind like a bad dream.
***
The first night had started with such promise.
Fenrir – though Jin hadn’t named him yet that time – had circled him in the courtyard, tail stiff, ears pinned back, and his fur gleamed with ethereal light.
Jin had amalgamated with Cattleya. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”
The wolf lunged. A straight head-on attack. No tricks, nothing fancy. Jin didn’t even need to dodge. Cattleya’s threads had swarmed the poor mutt within a blink, binding its limbs and muzzle before turning it into a cocoon, head half exposed.
“I-I’m not ready!”
“Said the one who attacked first.” Jin shrugged. “So, give up?”
“Never! This world is strange. Wrong. I need time to get used to it.”
Jin stared at it for a few seconds longer before turning to Old Man Sid. “Said he needs time to adjust to our world. What a weird one, for sure. What do you think?”
“A sore loser, alright. But he’s your mutt. Do whatever you want.”
Jin pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got five minutes. Then we try again.”
Fenrir had, of course, taken a full day.
The second night was the worst.
Fenrir refused to move. “I’m starving,” he whimpered, flopping onto his side like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Feed me, and I’ll fight with full power.”
Jin stared at the wolf. Then, at Old Man Sid, who was about to lose it, cradling the shredded remains of his favourite armchair.
“Eat? Y-You… useless piece of shitty mutt…”
Old Man Sid couldn’t say anything else, only to walk away before his muted anger consumed him further.
Jin sighed and went to the fridge. “Fine. One piece. Then you fight.”
Fenrir’s ears perked. “Three.”
“One.”
“Two. Then we fight!”
Jin relented. The moment he prepared the meat, however, he realised his mistake. Fenrir wasn’t alone. The other eleven wolves from his pack materialised from thin air and immediately begged for meat.
And when they didn’t get it – meat was out of supply since Old Man Sid seldom cooked – the pack tore through his home, chewing more furniture. Worse, one even took a dump on his coffee table. Curses echoed throughout the neighbourhood.
By the third night, Jin had had enough. Being chased out by his friend was one thing. Seeing his friend’s home being turned into a wolf’s den was another. The unforgivable thing was that he smelt pee on Eleana’s keepsake chest.
Instead of a fight, it became annihilation. Not even a minute in, the wannabe alpha wolf was trussed in an inescapable iron maiden-like cocoon, dangling upside-down from the cherry blossom tree, his muffled head lolling out like the nut on a cashew fruit.
And there, the torture began. “Every time he moves, or even whimpers, stab him, Catt.”
“Y-Yes, Master.” Cattleya then wrapped Fenrir's head in the cocoon. “But what if he dies?”
“If he dies, someone else takes over.”
The rest of the pack froze in fear, heads lowered and tails tucked between their legs. Three nights later, when Ironshield came to give Jin the much-needed information about his job ‘fixing’ the exam, Fenrir finally gave up.
But the punishment was far from done.
***
“Oi! I think it's cooked. Perfectly, too,” Old Man Sid said, turning the skewered meat over the campfire. The fat hissed and dripped onto the burning twigs.
The aroma was irresistible – and Jin made it doubly so – and every time the wind blew toward the cherry tree, Fenrir struggled to break free. And when he did so, Cattleya was there to silence him.
Ironshield, who was curious but wise enough not to ask about the dangling cocoon, pulled out his phone. There was only one thing on his mind.
“By the way,” he said, tapping his device as the mission details pinged onto Jin’s, “we’ve locked in the time and place for the final phase of the Player’s tests. Took longer than we wanted. Got to iron out sensitive stuff. Lots of them. But the rewards should make up for it.” He smirked. “Especially for you, Frank.”
Jin glanced at his screen. “F-Class RIFT in Ward 4? And the objective is solving a puzzle? So, that’s it? Anything else?”
“Last report stated that the main party has completed ninety per cent of it,” Ironshield confirmed. “By the time we arrive, it’ll be a walk in the park.”
Old Man Sid leaned against the cherry tree, enjoying his fire-roasted meat, right under Fenrir’s cocoon.
“After they cleared the RIFT’s mission objective, we’ll have forty-eight hours to map the place and scavenge whatever’s left. With those kids around, work will be a tad harder. Still doable, but tight.”
Ironshield checked his watch. “Get our time sync. Mine is 2231 hours now. We’ll begin tomorrow at 0800 hours. Don’t be late.”
Jin pocketed his phone. “Oh, I’ll be there,” he said, eyes flicking to the cocoon swaying in the breeze. “Right after I teach a pack of wild dogs some discipline. And obedience.”
Old Man Sid grinned, cracking his knuckles. “Count me in. I’ll bring my special brand of dog whispering.”
The laughter shared between them was guttural. Rough and sounded wrong – the kind that made Ironshield’s grin slip, and his earlier optimism disappeared. He wiped his palm against his mouth, suddenly aware of how dry his lips had gone.
“You two going to be alright?”
Silence.
Not even the wind dared to howl.