I Transmigrated Into A Fantasy World To Farm And Build Houses!

Transmigration

"Overtime, overtime, it's overtime every single day!"

Irritably, Eric sped on his rickety electric scooter, weaving through several giant concrete blocks, riding to the end of the small alley and out onto the main road.

As if fate were mocking him, it didn't rain while he was at the company. He had only ridden a short distance when the rain began to pour torrentially, as if wanting to wash away a person's very temperament. The row of shoddy streetlights flickered twice then died completely, plunging the entire world into darkness, interspersed with friendly shouts of "Fuck mother."

Eric felt like smoke was about to pour out of his ears.

Sigh, if only humans could photosynthesize like trees, I would willingly be a tree for my entire life just for the peace of it.

While he was busy silently cursing everyone from the CEO down to the damn parking attendant, Eric's vision was blurred by the rain. Seeing there were only a few seconds left on the green light, the recklessness inside him flared up. Time to get home! He twisted the throttle, pulling a breakneck acceleration maneuver straight out of the Fast & Furious films—the electric scooter edition.

But as it turns out, life isn't a dream. The green light flickered once, then turned a glaring red.

Eric frantically squeezed the brakes.

And screech... a 180-degree drift on the road, as slick as grease, a maneuver with an artistry no less than that of a professional racer.

He and his scooter were flung into the middle of the intersection. The flow of traffic had just been unleashed, and through the curtain of rain, any driver who saw him would probably only have time to gasp. Eric stared helplessly at the pitch-black undercarriage of a vehicle rushing towards him...

"Damn it, the novel I'm reading isn't even finished yet!"

The last words of a novel addict.

...

A damp, pungent smell of wild grass rushed into his nose. Eric groggily opened his eyes. A few cool drops of water fell onto his face with a splat.

Huh? I'm not dead?

He thought to himself, Wow, I really didn't die. Got to admit, that was a high-quality helmet, to get run over by a car and still keep my life.

He tried to move, intending to get up and see what kind of heartless bastard the driver was. Who causes an accident and, instead of taking the person to the hospital, dumps them in some grassy field?

But how strange. It didn't hurt at all.

Could it be that I'm actually a legendary protagonist? The kind who falls off a cliff only to find a secret manual, and whose powers automatically recover after being hit by a car?

But to his surprise, what met his eyes was not a hospital or a street, but... a wall of yellow mud mixed with straw. Looking up, he saw a tattered thatched roof, through which rainwater dripped down onto his face.

"Huh? What is this?"

Eric was stunned.

Do drivers really go this far nowadays? After causing an accident, they even have the audacity to kidnap the victim to some remote area to dispose of the evidence? Or... did I die and then transmigrate? This style of house looks so familiar, exactly like the old-fashioned rural houses he used to see in historical dramas.

"Awoooo!"

Huh? Hello?

"Awoo?"

Oh no! What the hell is going on?! The hairs on his body stood on end. He looked down at his hand—ah, no, his foreleg.

Snowy white, soft, and delicate, with claws... Don't tell me the next life for a guy addicted to Boy Love is to be a guard dog, right? And based on this setting, this fur color... could it be I'm some expired dog that's about to lose all its fur?

"Ao?"

While Eric's mind was in turmoil, a soft, youthful cry sounded from behind him.

Eric turned his head to look and saw a small, yellow lion cub, about the size of a two-month-old kitten, staggering unsteadily towards him.

He propped himself up on his claws, sitting blankly where he was.

Suddenly, his head felt as if it were being stuffed with countless things; it was both painful and dizzying. He clutched his head with his paws, sprawling on the ground in pain for a while before his mind cleared.

The memories of this body poured into his head like a waterfall.

The original owner of the body was a beastman of the Snow Wolf Tribe. During a great war between the beastman tribe and the Elf tribe, one of his parents was killed. The other was severely injured right when she was pregnant with the original owner, leading to a premature birth.

From a young age, the original owner's body was not as healthy as others in his tribe, and he couldn't hunt large prey. If it weren't for the fact that the tribespeople respected his parents and helped him frequently, he probably would have starved to death long ago.

This little lion cub before him had been found by the original owner's mother sometime later. That great war had claimed far too many lives. After the war, the two tribes made peace, but many beastmen were displaced and forced to wander. The Golden Lion Tribe led the Tiger, Cat, and Leopard tribes to establish the Golden Kingdom, settling in the western part of the continent. Meanwhile, beastmen from other tribes were scattered everywhere across the land.

The original owner's mother couldn't find this little lion cub's parents and, guessing they too had perished, brought him home to raise alongside her own child.

Not long after bringing the little lion cub home, the original owner's mother passed away; her injuries were too severe to recover from, and coupled with the grief of missing her mate, she fell ill and died.

The original owner and the little lion cub survived under the care of the entire tribe.

The original owner did not like the little lion cub, feeling that it had stolen his mother from him. And since his body was innately weak and his strength was no match for others in his tribe, from a young age he had deeply idolized the tribe's number one warrior, Max.

Whenever he had the time, he would trail after Max, his heart full of admiration.

Max did not like him. As a beastman, Max disliked such a weakling. Furthermore, the original owner was a male beastman; even if Max truly wanted to take a male beastman as a mate, why wouldn't he choose Michael, who had grown up with him?

His mother, Luci, however, had some past conflict with Michael's mother, so she still hoped her son could become mates with the original owner. After all, the original owner's mother had been a brave warrior.

Over time, Max grew more and more annoyed with the original owner. As for the original owner, the more he was denied, the more he craved it; he constantly clung to Max without letting go, rarely paying any mind to his little lion cub brother.

For the past few days, it had been raining continuously. The original owner was still a weak juvenile and could not follow the warriors out to hunt. He wanted to sneak out to follow Max on the hunt, but he was caught in a heavy downpour and developed a fever. Someone had to bring him home.

Beastmen were naturally hardy, with tough bodies; no one expected that a simple fever would take the original owner's life.

The Adorable Younger Brother

Eric froze for a few seconds.

"Huh, wait a minute... This plot... it feels so familiar, doesn't it?" He raised his paws to scratch his head in confusion, and then his brain went "ding!"

Max and Michael? Weren't those the names of the main top and bottom couple in the beastman novel he was in the middle of reading?

In that case, the body he was in right now was... the cannon fodder character who specialized in causing trouble, a brain-dead villain who never stopped creating bad karma for the young couple on their path to love. And the result? He was kicked out by the entire tribe, eventually starving and freezing to death, his corpse not even left in one piece.

"Well," Eric muttered. "To transmigrate right into a role with a pre-destined ending of being wiped out. Just fantastic."

He was so anxious he began pacing in circles on the spot.

Seeing his older brother suddenly burst into a hyperactive fit, the little lion cub grew frightened. He flattened himself on the ground, his big, round, sparkling black eyes looking up at him in utter bewilderment.

Pew!

That look was a direct critical hit that pierced straight through Eric's defenses. He took a deep breath, clumsily controlled his four completely unfamiliar legs, staggered over, and used a front paw to gently pat the little guy's fluffy yellow head.

This further worsened the main gong's impression of the original owner, and the main gong once again chased him away. The original owner, in turn, resented the little lion cub for getting in his way. From that day forward, he never went to get the cub back, having completely abandoned him.

How pitiful, Eric thought to himself.

The little lion cub had already endured a life of sometimes eating, sometimes starving with the original owner, only to be bluntly abandoned in the end. Yet, by the end of the story, he never turned into a villain. In fact, after the original owner was banished from the tribe, the cub still sent people to rescue him.

Unfortunately, the original owner's body was too weak; he died before the rescuers could arrive.

What a good little lion. Eric nuzzled his head against the little tyke's small, fluffy yellow one.

"What a melodramatic plot," Eric shook his head wearily. "The older brother is a fool for men, while the younger brother gets abandoned but remains completely loyal. Honestly."

"Oh, right, what was this little one's name again?" He tried to recall for a moment. "Ah, that's it. His name is Leo."

Beastmen could also speak while in their beast forms. Eric called out softly, "Awo... Leo?"

"Why do I have to keep 'awoo'?" Eric thought, patting his muzzle with a paw.

Evidently, the original owner had never treated Leo kindly before. Leo appeared overjoyed; he lifted his head and, looking up at him, hesitantly stuck out his tongue to lick his face.

The lick made Eric chuckle. The average lifespan of a beastman was quite long—they could live for several hundred years—so at twenty or thirty years old, they were still adolescents. The little lion cub had been taken in over twenty years ago; the only reason his beast form was so small was because he had been malnourished for so long under the original owner's care.

Thinking about how the little tyke licking him was actually over twenty years old, he still found he couldn't quite get into a beastman's mindset, so he gently used his paw to pat Leo's head.

At this moment, a gurgling sound reached his ears. He lowered his head to look, and just as he had predicted, Leo's stomach was completely flat with hunger.

He sighed inwardly. What a terrible start: a leaky roof, a hungry younger brother, muddy earthen walls, and a house so poor that even the mice scorned it.

But even so, in the Snow Wolf tribe, their house was still considered quite luxurious. Others lived in wooden tents, and some even in canvas tents. Their house was made of earth because their parents had both been warriors, with strength and savings, so they had been able to build it. In the winter, it was, after all, warmer than other people's homes.

The Snow Wolf tribe had thick hides and plenty of fat; in this kind of house, no one had ever frozen to death during winter. The original owner of his body was perhaps the only person in their tribe who would have.

He followed the original owner's memories, stood up straight, and thought about changing into his human form. His line of sight grew higher, as expected. He hurriedly wrapped the animal skin beside him around his hips.

Come to think of it, the clothing of the Snow Wolf tribe basically consisted of these simple animal skins, which were convenient for them to put on and take off when changing from their beast form to their human form.

Some people would also trade for a little hemp cloth with the Human tribe that came for trade, or at markets between the tribes, to make into simple clothes. But very few people wore them; this was a valuable asset in their tribe. Many beastmen only wore it in the winter to keep warm when they were young or old.

Eric wrapped the animal skin around his hips and gently bent over to lift Leo into his arms.

Cradling Leo, he searched his memories for where food might be in the dark, damp room. He only found a pile of small, slightly shriveled beans, and a few pieces of blackish-red dried meat. All that was left besides that were a few unnamed wild fruits.

The dried meat had been brought over by people from the tribe; the rest was leftover food that the original owner and Leo had gathered.

If the conditions aren't right, you create them yourself. A civilized modern person would never let themselves starve.

He put firewood into the fire pit and got it lit. Fortunately, there was flint here, so at least he didn't need to drill wood to make a fire.

He used a few small branches to skewer the dried meat. There were no basting brushes or spray bottles here. He washed his hands thoroughly, placed the skewered meat over the fire to roast, and as it cooked, he dipped his hand in water, flicking it onto the meat.

Doing this could make the dried meat a little softer; after all, the little lion cub looked so small, and it was better for him to eat softer food.

Right now, he had no way of going out to hunt for fresh meat to roast for the little one.

When the dried meat had absorbed the water and expanded slightly, he took some coarse salt from a jar and sprinkled it on the meat, then repeated the action of flicking water onto it to let the seasoning slowly seep in.

The Cursed Land

Soon, the dried meat had absorbed enough water and salt, and it began to render fat like fresh meat. The scent of meat spread throughout the house, making the dwelling, which was damp from the rain, fill with its aroma.

It was a pity that there were so few things to use now. In his hands, there was only coarse salt. If he had pepper powder, chili powder, and cumin powder like in the modern world, this skewered dried meat would surely be incredibly fragrant.

But even so, Leo had clearly never eaten dried meat grilled this way. The little one in his arms kept licking his lips like a kitten, clearly craving it.

The grilled dried meat carried a distinctive smoky aroma. Although the only seasoning was salt, to Leo, it was still incredibly delicious.

After Eric blew on it to cool it down, the little one eagerly gobbled it up, looking very satisfied.

After feeding Leo, Eric stood up and carefully observed the items in the room.

He was a modern person; he couldn't just become like a beastman overnight, able to go out hunting to support himself and Leo.

Moreover, the original owner's body was not as healthy as others in the tribe; his strength and speed couldn't keep up, making hunting relatively difficult.

But he couldn't rely on the tribe to support him forever. He also had to find a way to ensure his and Leo's survival.

So it begins. Is this the challenge for a homebody who loves farming novels?

He looked toward the only ceramic jar in the house. This jar was considered a significant item in the tribe; trading for such a jar from the Human Tribe required a lot of animal hides.

He had a handful of beans and a jar of coarse salt. He could definitely make tofu; a handful of beans could produce a fair amount of it.

The only issue was making tofu with brine; the coarse salt needed to be refined, otherwise it could increase the risk of poisoning.

He didn't know if these robust beastmen would be poisoned, but Eric was genuinely worried for his and Leo's small bodies.

That's right, how is coarse salt refined into fine salt?

He carefully recalled; this was a crucial element in farming novels, hailed as a necessary skill for transmigrators.

He remembered reading many books that detailed this process and even spent several days searching for videos to see the specifics, but where could he find activated charcoal now?

He remembered. He could make activated charcoal himself. Eric clapped his hands in excitement, startling the little lion who was eating the dried meat. He quickly went over to soothe the little one by stroking his fur.

Making activated charcoal required firewood. Although he didn't have much firewood left in the house, he could go out and gather some. It wasn't winter yet, so this was not a scarce resource for the beastmen. The rain outside had also lightened up considerably, making it a good time to go out and see.

Right now, the tribe operated on a collective system. Every day, there would be a hunting team, a patrol team, and a gathering team going out to search for survival supplies. Firewood was also collected by everyone and then distributed uniformly by the chieftain.

If a household found they didn't have enough, they could go and collect more themselves.

The original owner never did any proper work, only concerning himself with chasing after Max.

Even when he followed the gathering team, he often slacked off. Everyone turned a blind eye, and the things that should have been allocated to their family were never missing. Eric felt too embarrassed to ask the chieftain for more.

Having just arrived in another world, he had to start being busy without a break. Eric was speechless; he was truly fated for overtime work, with not even a transitional period. The moment he opened his eyes, he had to work.

"I need to go out and find some firewood now. Can you stay at home by yourself?" Eric lowered his head and spoke gently to Leo.

Leo couldn't bear to finish the piece of dried meat. The little one took the last piece he was chewing, placed it in Eric's hand, and looked up.

"You eat too. I'll go gather firewood with you."

His voice was clear, like a young boy in an animated film.

Eric's heart melted. A moment ago, it felt like he was raising a pet, but now he truly realized this was his younger brother.

"Such a good boy." No wonder the original owner treated him so badly, yet Leo never held a grudge later on.

Unable to refuse, Eric took a bite of the dried meat Leo gave him and fed the rest to Leo.

Hmm, his craftsmanship was indeed not bad. Although the coarse salt was a bit bitter and the dried meat had been stored for a while, the overall taste was quite good.

Leo wagged his tail happily, looking like a little puppy. This was the first time his older brother had been so gentle with him, giving him delicious dried meat and speaking to him so softly. He was truly very happy.

To be able to go gather firewood with his brother, Leo also transformed into his human form. In human form, his hair was blond. He had elegant brows and bright eyes, a young teenager. His dark eyes looked at Eric, the corners of his mouth shyly forming a smile.

Eric saw that he was so happy he had forgotten to put on his animal skin clothes. He hurriedly grabbed another animal hide and wrapped it around Leo.

He led Leo to lift the animal skin at the entrance and stepped outside, thinking to himself that when he had time, he must make a proper door for their house. At least it wouldn't be so cold in the winter.

Although in the original owner's memory, he understood that his house in the Snow Wolf Tribe was considered to be of a middle-to-upper class, he was still astonished when he actually saw it.

As expected of beastmen, to be able to survive in such a harsh environment. All he could see around were scattered wooden huts and animal skin tents of various kinds. In the entire tribe, only a few could be called houses.

The only remarkable feature one could speak of was their size. Whether they were tents, wooden houses, or earthen houses, they were all very large. After all, they had to accommodate the beast forms of the Snow Wolf people; if they weren't large, they wouldn't fit.

As for private yards, there wasn't a single one. Being beastmen, it was understandable not to have yards, but these houses were truly too makeshift.

Eric remembered from the novel that the beastmen were the poorest and most backward tribe, but their strength was immense. They were innately resistant to magic, and though this also meant they couldn't learn magic, most other races could do nothing to them. Magic couldn't penetrate their defenses, and their physical strength was superior.

The Elf Tribe, with their maximum power, could only manage a draw in the great war against the Beastman Tribe.

The people of the two Eastern and Western continents called the Illusory Dream Continent the Cursed Land.

If they wanted to come here to trade, they had to pass through the blockade of the Elf Tribe or the Golden Kingdom and pay a hefty tax just to enter.

What's the Difference?

The Beastman Tribe used the fur, blood, bones, or sharp fangs and claws of the magical beasts they hunted to trade with merchant caravans, receiving only a few necessities in return. But when the merchants took these items back outside, they were said to be goods that every noble fought over.

Underground to the west of the Illusory Dream Continent lived a tribe of Dwarves. Their iron products were incredibly exquisite, a level of craftsmanship unattainable by humans. A weapon made by a dwarf commanded a sky-high price, and there was never enough supply.

In the eyes of the people from the two Eastern and Western continents, the races of the Illusory Dream Continent were both fierce and barbaric, but how was it not also a pristine golden land waiting to be developed?

It was a pity that such immense power lived in such misery. Especially the Snow Wolf Tribe, who neither raised livestock nor cultivated crops, relying solely on hunting to live. The entire tribe's method of survival was still quite primitive.

It seemed that, let alone restoring the standard of living from the modern world, even just achieving a comfortable life would be a very long road ahead.

Eric thought helplessly. First, he had to find a way to fill his and Leo's stomachs. He really wasn't good at hunting; at most, he had fired a few shots in a game of PUBG.

He led Leo towards a forest he remembered.

Along the way, they met a few beastmen. Because the original owner, aside from clinging to Max, rarely interacted with others in the tribe, these beastmen, though very surprised to see him out with Leo, did not strike up a conversation with him.

Eric pretended to be calm and nodded at these people as a greeting, while his heart was utterly shocked. These Snow Wolf people, regardless of gender, were all over 1.9 meters tall. Furthermore, because each person basically only wore a single animal hide—with women just wrapping an extra one on top—everyone's abdominal muscles were exposed, even the women's.

The women had abs too!

And they were huge, an eight-pack!

And those rippling biceps. He finally understood why beastmen didn't discriminate against homosexuals. What was the difference, anyway?

He held Leo's hand, still a little scared. Only now did he truly understand that he and Leo were indeed still young.

Looking at this height difference, it was truly too vast. It was one thing for him to be congenitally weak, but Leo was still small; he couldn't let the little one fail to grow tall as well. After all, in the Snow Wolf Tribe, 1.8 meters was considered short.

His Leo would one day become a prince and a king; he couldn't lose out on presence due to his height.

But then again, the appearance of the Snow Wolf beastmen was quite superior. Their hair was all silver-white, their features were well-defined, and combined with their exceptional height, every one of them looked like a supermodel.

Actually, in the Snow Wolf Tribe, he was still a cub. After all, he was only ten years older than Leo, at most just a slightly bigger cub. So, his height could definitely still increase.

In the forest next to the tribe, there were no dangerous prey. The instincts of wild beasts did not allow them to come near. It was just that while the two of them were bent over gathering firewood, an animal resembling a pheasant ran out, only it was three sizes larger than a pheasant.

When the pheasant appeared, Eric felt something in his bloodline awaken. He silently transformed into his beast form, lowered his body, shot out like an arrow, and bit into the pheasant's neck.

"Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey." Eric used his claws to scrape at his tongue. The smell of blood was too strong, especially now that his sense of smell seemed particularly sharp.

He happily held up the pheasant in his hand and said to Leo, "We have fresh meat to eat tonight!"

Leo's eyes sparkled. Remembering the dried meat he had just eaten, he nodded his head vigorously in delight.

Without any rope, Eric found a sturdy vine, tied up the firewood the two had gathered, and carried it on his back. With a large pheasant in his left hand and leading Leo with his right, he walked back imposingly.

In the original owner's memory, his body was congenitally weak, lacking the strength of his tribesmen. But as Eric saw it, this body was truly much stronger than his old one.

Although this forest was said to be not far from the tribe, it was still several miles away. He and Leo had walked such a long distance at a brisk pace without feeling tired, and he even felt incredibly strong.

This large bundle of firewood weighed over ten kilograms, but he carried it effortlessly, even feeling that it was light. He thought with a bit of pride that it seemed supporting himself and Leo wouldn't be a problem.

Alright, he shouldn't speak too soon. The tribe was located on a plain, and once out of the forest, one could see the tribe from a distance.

From afar, the two saw a dozen or so giant wild beasts being carried into the tribe by large, silver-white snow wolves, followed by the faint sound of cheering.

"The hunting party is back," Leo said. "That biggest magical beast must have been hunted by Max."

Eric froze in the wind. You people call this mountain of meat prey? And also, are the beast forms of adult snow wolves really that big?

So far, he had only seen his own and Leo's beast forms, and he felt that the two of them combined weren't even as big as one of their paws.

If he and Leo also grew up to be that big in the future, how much would they have to eat in one meal?

The Top Protagonist

Eric looked down at the pheasant in his hand, and for a moment, the wild chicken that was three times larger than any he had ever eaten before seemed incredibly small.

No wonder these animals still existed in the forest. It turned out they were creatures the Snow Wolf Tribe didn't even bother to hunt. Knowing they were safe, they dared to swagger around, only to unexpectedly run into him.

He recalled reading in the book that during winter, when prey was scarce, the Snow Wolf Tribe would transform into their human forms to reduce food consumption.

It was true. If eaten in beast form, this pheasant of his wouldn't even be enough to get stuck in their teeth. Oh, it probably wasn't even as big as one of their teeth.

Eric finally met the top protagonist.

Short, silver-white hair, sharp facial features, also wrapped in an animal hide, looking to be at least 2 meters tall. Just standing there, his presence was overwhelming. Truly befitting the number one warrior of the Snow Wolf Tribe.

He couldn't quite understand the original owner. Just how much must he have liked the top protagonist to look up at him like that every day? Didn't his neck get tired?

Max's eyesight was very good; he had noticed him long ago. Although Eric wasn't clinging to him today and was even leading his younger brother, a boy the original owner had never liked, Max still didn't want anything to do with him.

Therefore, he just shot Eric a cold glance before turning away to continue distributing meat with his tribesmen.

The claws of the Snow Wolf Tribe were incredibly sharp. Several members of the tribe simply transformed their hands into sharp claws and quickly butchered the prey. The sharp tips of their claws skinned the prey entirely, then divided it into countless pieces of meat.

No wonder he couldn't find a single knife in the house. What was the need for knives? These claws were much easier to use than a cleaver.

Watching the sharp, white claws glide over the prey, and with a whoosh, a large slab of meat would fall off, Eric secretly held out his own hand and quietly revealed a claw. It seemed quite sharp too. He would have to try it out when he got home.

"Max, a good harvest today! You truly have the strongest combat power among us. You even managed to hunt a Thunderfire Beast. That thing is formidable. I tried to hunt one before and almost got my butt fur burned off. A dual-element lightning and fire, level-five magical beast. Although its meat is delicious, ordinary beastmen really don't dare to provoke it."

Several beastmen walked over from the other side of the tribe. Among them, a handsome, bronze-skinned young man clapped Max on the shoulder and said with a laugh.

These men were also part of the hunting party. The hunting party also served as the patrol around the tribe, basically rotating every three days.

"Haha, every time Max goes out, we get to eat well!" The other beastmen also said with a laugh.

Beastmen from the tribe gradually gathered to get their share of the meat, and the members of the hunting party greeted them one by one. Seeing that Max didn't want to pay attention to Eric, these members of the hunting party also remained silent.

Only the first beastman who had spoken to Max scratched his ear and finally couldn't help but walk over and say to Eric, "You should come over and get some meat too. Every time we come back, you're never here. This time we happened to catch you, saving everyone the trouble of bringing it to you. You can even pick the part you like to eat!"

Eric was both flattered and taken aback. The beastman talking to him seemed to be Michael, who had grown up with Max. He was indeed a good person. Others couldn't be bothered with him, yet only Michael came over to call him to get meat. No wonder both Max and Leo would eventually fall for him; he was truly cheerful and kind.

He remembered that every time the hunting party returned, they would inform him to come get meat. But the original owner, with his high self-esteem and sensitivity, and a very insecure personality from losing his parents at a young age, never participated. It was the tribe members, fearing that he and Leo would starve to death, who often took turns bringing him food.

In reality, the Snow Wolf Tribe had done everything they could for the original owner. Even though at the end of the story, the original owner had tricked the bottom protagonist into the territory of the level-seven magical beast, the Scorpion-Tailed Lion, and led a beast tide to the tribe, causing many casualties, the Snow Wolf Tribe only banished the original owner from the tribe and did not take his life.

It was just that the original owner's personality was too gloomy, always accustomed to thinking the worst of others' kindness. If it were the original owner now, he would definitely feel that the bottom protagonist was deliberately humiliating him for not being able to hunt prey, which was why he was told to come and get a share of the meat.

Because of his pride, the original owner had let himself and Leo go hungry many times. Who else was to blame when he never went to collect his share after a hunt? During times when prey was scarce, it was always Luci, Max's mother, who saved a little from her family's portion for him.

Eric didn't much like this personality either. He could sympathize, but he still found it detestable.

However, he still shook his head, smiled at Michael, and said, "I managed to hunt some prey today too. It's enough for the two of us."

Michael's eyes widened as he looked at the chicken in his hand, saying in great surprise, "You mean that little chick in your hand?"

He scratched his head in embarrassment. So something that big was still a chick.

An idea flashed in his mind. If this was just a chick, he could also catch a few live ones and try to raise them. No one in the Snow Wolf Tribe had ever domesticated and raised their food source before. He could try raising chickens first.

If that succeeded, he could raise sheep and cows. Thinking about a future with no shortage of beef, lamb, and chicken, with chicken eggs to eat and cow milk to drink, he was so tempted that he was about to drool.

Michael chuckled and said, "Alright, alright, put that little chick away for now. Max went through a lot of trouble to hunt a Thunderfire Beast today. The meat of this Thunderfire Beast is delicious, and eating it is very good for our beastmen bodies. It can strengthen our muscles and bones. With a body like yours, eating more of its meat will be of great benefit. And isn't your younger brother at a growing age too? Hurry up and come over here!"

Men Can't Say They Can't

Michael pulled Eric along, allowing no refusal. He cut a large piece of meat from Max's magical beast and gave it to him, making the corner of Eric's eye twitch.

This piece of meat looked to be at least 50 kilograms, the size of a whole crossbred pig. Moreover, upon getting closer, even though the Thunderfire Beast was dead, its lingering might and residual magic fluctuations made Eric's face turn pale.

Wow, those fangs, that weight, that glossy black fur... although it startled him, he felt more excitement and a desire to try it out. Eric excitedly reached out his hand, wanting to touch it.

However, this Thunderfire Beast was hunted by Max, and Max held no goodwill towards him. He felt a bit too shy to touch it, merely standing before the Thunderfire Beast with brightly shining eyes.

Michael looked at him with some amusement. He always felt that Eric was somewhat different today, finally looking a little cuter, having the appearance of a cub.

"If you want to touch it, just go ahead. Max isn't that petty," Michael said.

If the original owner had heard this sentence, he would have surely added another mark against Michael in his little black book. To the original owner's ears, this sentence sounded like he was showing off his relationship with Max.

Now that it was him, he certainly wouldn't overthink it. This sentence was exactly what he wanted to hear. Michael was truly a good person!

He reached out and gently touched the fur of the Thunderfire Beast before him. The Thunderfire Beast looked like a mix between a lion and a tiger, with a giant, sharp horn on its head.

According to the novel's description, when the Thunderfire Beast was alive, the sharp horn on its head could release lightning, with power equivalent to a full-force blow from a magus. Its mouth could also spit out lava fireballs.

Fortunately, the beastmen had magic resistance and thick skin and flesh, unafraid of being burned or struck by lightning. If they were human, who knows how many people would have to die to take down such a large monster.

The moment his hand landed on it, a numbing electric current passed through his palm. The Thunderfire Beast's fur still retained magical energy. No wonder the human world coveted every part of these magical beasts so much.

The glossy black fur was as smooth as silk. Though the hairs were soft, they were incredibly tough.

Eric's Vietnamese blood stirred in his bones. He remembered how, back in the day, his ancestors had fashioned countless trays, basins, pots, pans, ladles, and spoons from the wreckage of B-52s. He might not be their equal, but he surely wasn't far behind, right?

With such good fur, he wondered how many toothbrushes, oil brushes, or laundry brushes he could make... Hmm, he could also make a grooming brush for Leo.

When Max and the others divided the meat, they didn't damage the Thunderfire Beast's pelt, so it looked particularly appealing.

If only he could also hunt such good prey. Not only was the meat edible, but he could also use the pelt to make door curtains, bed cushions, and rugs. In winter, it could be made into clothes, and the fur could be used to make all sorts of brushes.

The thought that human merchant caravans could trade such a fine pelt for just some crude salt, spices, and pottery made him feel a sense of regret.

Light industry must be developed!

"Thank you, Michael," he said sincerely.

In the past, the original owner's attitude towards Michael was considered good if he didn't roll his eyes; sometimes he would even make sarcastic remarks. His current attitude, in contrast, made Michael a bit unaccustomed.

"It's nothing, it's nothing. What's there to thank me for? Can you carry the meat? If you can't, I can bring it over for you." He suddenly seemed embarrassed, lifting the meat to change the subject.

The corner of Eric's mouth twitched. The nerves of these beastmen were really thick. Don't they know that men can't say they can't?

A person with a sensitive mind could indeed get angry easily. He now felt a little sympathy for the original owner.

For a sensitive person like the original owner to appear among a group of beastmen was like a pumpkin growing in a patch of winter melons.

He took the piece of meat and placed it on his bundle of firewood, trying to lift it. It wasn't as heavy as he imagined. It seemed he was only a little weaker than the others in his tribe.

Alright, maybe it wasn't just a little weaker. He recalled the scene of a group of tribesmen carrying back magical beasts as large as small mountains, then thought about how his own beast form wasn't even as big as their feet. Forget it, he'd better not compare. As long as he was stronger than he was in his past life, that was good enough.

After a moment's thought, he said to Michael, "This meat is enough for the two of us for a few days. Next time you go hunting, if you catch any prey, could you give me some of the fur?"

He was a little embarrassed, so he spoke haltingly.

Michael's expression was a bit puzzled, but he still nodded and said, "Of course, you can. Just come and pick some out then."

Eric thanked him gratefully, then carried the meat and firewood, held the chicken, and led the waiting Leo home.

Watching his retreating back, Kevin was also very puzzled. He put his arm around Michael's shoulder and said, "Why does it feel like that kid has changed? It's a bit strange, but I can't quite put my finger on it..."

"That's right!" Sam, who was beside them, shouted, attracting everyone's attention.

He said sheepishly, "I just realized, Eric didn't talk to Max today. Usually, the moment he sees Max, isn't he already clinging to him? Plus, he smiled at Michael today. I've only ever seen him secretly glaring at Michael before."

Sometimes he glared at them too.

"Who knows? It was strange enough that he came to get meat today. In the past, he'd rather let Leo go hungry than come over. Besides the food we bring him, he catches those tiny things himself to fill their stomachs. It's one thing for himself, but he let Leo get so hungry his fur wasn't even glossy," Kevin said with a pout.

To beastmen, the most important thing was their fur! A smooth and glossy coat was proof of a beastman's strength!