After the dinner gathering ended, Ayaan and I made an excuse to part ways with the group and wandered through the streets of the black market.

"How was your first meal in the black market?" I asked Ayaan with a hint of mockery in my tone.

"The salad with thirty kinds of vegetables was interesting, but it tasted no different from the ones sold in convenience stores. Honestly, not worth taking a detour to the black market for it. Three stars." His response caught me off guard, making me laugh. I hadn’t realized Ayaan had such a sense of humor.

"But, Haruo, didn’t you say the Beastars Act prohibits this kind of practice?" Ayaan tilted his head toward the occasional animals passing by, each carrying a price list on their backs.

"This is one of the loopholes in the Act. They sell pre-mortem contracts. If someone dies during the contract period or under certain circumstances, the terms of the contract are executed," I explained, following his gaze. It’s somewhat like the reverse concept of insurance. "Of course, there have been instances where impatient buyers caused 'accidents' to happen prematurely. But given the severe punishments and the current stability in supply, there's no need to take that risk." I shifted my focus back to him and continued explaining. This was one of the benefits of bringing underground trades into the open.

"So, because there’s no practical necessity, they haven’t amended the Act to address this? Sounds like administrative negligence to me." Ayaan adjusted his glasses and abruptly stopped walking. "What’s that?" he asked, pointing to a shop blending elements of traditional Chinese architecture. A few elephant skulls displayed at the entrance gave it an eerie appearance.

"Oh, this is an ivory trading post. Ivory is one of the potential ingredients for hyperdrugs. Look here," I said, pointing to a QR code engraved on the ivory.

"Didn’t I just mention that permissible transactions are limited to non-functional body parts? So things like ivory and antlers count too. A few years ago, a supreme court explanation clarified that, with evolving societal perceptions, these traits—once symbols of biological capital—have gradually fallen out of favor with females. Instead, they mostly bring inconveniences to daily life, so selling them as non-functional parts is permitted." I shrugged, adding, "Of course, some animals still choose to keep them for aesthetic reasons or due to societal pressures. It’s all a matter of personal choice." Ayaan seemed deep in thought as he approached the gleaming ivory, as if trying to examine it more closely. However, if you think about it, decisions made under pressure hardly count as free choices.

"Back to the administrative negligence issue—proposals to amend the law to address loopholes have been ongoing. But conservative factions continuously obstructed them, and the coalition of opposition forces retaliated fiercely. At the time, the Beastars Act was like a candle in the wind, and its repeal seemed inevitable," I said, pausing to wait for Ayaan to rejoin me before we resumed strolling through the black market.

"Even though supporters of the Act made every effort to gain recognition in the mainstream society, the situation was one-sided. It even gave rise to various radical conservative groups stirring up chaos and destruction everywhere."

"Then, as if all the elements aligned, that infamous incident occurred."

***

As the leader of the internationally renowned and feared mercenary group "Irish Wolfhound," I was puzzled when I received a commission to deal with a single gray wolf.

Would it really take an entire battalion for one gray wolf? But a client’s money is there to be earned, so I didn’t question it further.

Originally, pedigree dogs were developed to suppress warfare by removing wolves' combative instincts and physical prowess. But over time, malicious experiments led to the breeding of combat-specialized dogs.

Our nation has long been oppressed. For some inexplicable reason, every major power in history saw conquering our land as a milestone. To this day, the Emerald Isle remains carved up by multiple nations.

To fund our independence movement and build an experienced fighting force, our country bred Irish wolfhounds, deploying them as mercenaries to accept contracts worldwide.

I’ve done plenty of unspeakably dirty work, witnessed powerful nations deploying groups like ours to handle their shadowy dealings, and even fought against my own compatriots under different employers. But compared to achieving my dream of lifting my country from its downtrodden state, the things I’ve done are insignificant.

That day, we waited in the basement of a commercial building in Central City. The place was designated by the client as the meeting point for groups like ours. Apart from us, the client had also hired several infamously unscrupulous mercenary groups as backup units. I felt relieved not to be among those. At least we had some semblance of standards—albeit low ones.

When things went awry, the client urgently demanded our immediate support. I initially hesitated, reluctant to operate so brazenly in a metropolis like Central City. But when the client offered an additional billion, I ordered my team to move out. At the time, I thought we were lucky. Little did I know the catastrophic mistake I had made.

On our way to the site, we had to push through hordes of panicked animals fleeing the scene. I even recognized members of other mercenary groups among the crowd. Chaos was our daily reality, so it didn’t shake our morale—until we met him.

At first, there was only a gray blur darting across the battlefield. Accompanied by screams and blood spraying everywhere, I realized this was our target.

This was absurd. Could such overwhelming power truly exist? It felt like facing an unstoppable force of nature.

I heard the clatter of weapons slipping from my teammates’ hands and realized my own rifle had already fallen to the ground, splashing viscous blood. I tried to move or issue commands, but my overwhelmed mind and the slick, blood-soaked floor immobilized us.

The gray figure noticed us. He stopped about three meters away, quietly observing.

Shattered bodies and entrails were strewn across the area. Some corpses dangled grotesquely like broken ragdolls, faces frozen in terror or heads completely missing. Blood dripped from his claws and fangs, forming ripples on the ground. His taut muscles and bulging veins, matted with scraps of flesh and blood-streaked gray fur, made him appear unscathed—save for old bullet scars on his abdomen and a missing ear.

Though it was a moonless night, his eyes glowed brilliantly in the darkness. A scar above his right eye resembled a divine rune, fierce and imposing. Amid the carnage, he stood like a god on a throne of blood and corpses—an embodiment of despair, evoking both awe and terror.

Was this the form of my ancestral gray wolf? He tilted his head, wiping a bloodstain from the corner of his mouth, and narrowed his eyes.

I wet myself on the spot, as did several others. Yet I felt no shame. When faced with a being that transcends comprehension, this was the only rational response.

"Mercy! " I shouted, dropping to my knees and pressing my face to the ground. I’d long accepted that I wouldn’t live to see my country’s independence. Every day in the mercenary corps, I was prepared to die for even the slightest progress toward that goal.

But in that moment, confronting a power of this magnitude, I understood the act of praying to a god—not out of despair, but out of hope.

"Please help us build our nation!" The absurdity of my plea escaped my comprehension. Perhaps it was like a dying wish, a fleeting regret in a creature's final moments.

I later learned that the gray wolf had already left to deal with other threats. My comrades, still stunned by the encounter, eventually came to and helped me to my feet as I continued muttering in disbelief.

That day, a new title—befitting such a being—was born, whispered in reverent tones by all who feared and worshiped him. Only in the shadows, with trembling voices, would they dare utter his name.

“Shadow Beastar.” I knelt on one knee, sensing the tension radiating from the honey badger beside me.

The gray wolf was intently watching surveillance footage from one of the restaurant outposts. Alpha detested this title, but it was said that I was the only one allowed to address him this way. He felt some lingering guilt for almost annihilating our mercenary troupe.

“How’s everything at home?” Alpha asked as he turned off the screen and stood up from behind his desk.

“Thanks to you, Merlin and Boudicca have grown into outstanding young adults, aspiring to one day become the Beastar of the European Union,” I replied proudly as I rose to my feet.

After that major incident, under the mediation of Central Nation and other world powers, Europe’s fragmented sovereign entities finally reconciled and formed a continent-wide federal state.

Though it wasn’t the independent nation we had once dreamed of, the borders that had divided our homeland were erased. All animals could once again move freely across our ancestral land without restrictions. Generations of dreams were realized; generations of regrets came to an end.

For the first time, I envisioned a future worth striving for. I found myself falling into a love I’d never imagined possible and fathered two children. Even in my wildest dreams, I had never envisioned such a life.

We, the last generation of mercenaries, were treated as heroes. Most of us retired to enjoy the remainder of our lives. A few, like me, crossed oceans to serve under Alpha—the deity we revered.

“You flatter me,” Alpha said, sitting on the edge of the desk, his expression tinged with a hint of worry. “Diplomacy has never been my forte. The Central Nation’s diplomatic corps handled most of the work. I only attended one session during the entire negotiation process.”

That expression—it was the very same one that had terrified the representatives during that pivotal meeting. Simply by sitting there with that worried look, Alpha had compelled the nations to unite and form the alliance.

“There’s a force in Central City plotting something in the shadows. I fear I’ll soon need your strength. Can you gather the necessary personnel for me, Eire?” Alpha asked, turning his gaze toward me.

Placing my fist over my heart, I saluted and replied, “It’s my honor.”

By your command, my god.