I'm a human picked up by a fox-kin. The fox-kin, having just finalized the adoption papers, frowned and grabbed me by the collar, intent on giving me a bath. I struggled for my life. Frustrated, he posted a help thread online: "The little human I adopted is extremely resistant to bathing. What should I do?" Another kin replied: "These humans are perverts. If you take off your clothes and get in the tub, they'll be willing to wash." The fox-kin pondered for a moment, then chose to strip completely. 1 The kin who adopted me is a melancholy fox. According to him, "I was actually planning to kill myself that day, but then I met you." "You were covered in blood, holding some suspicious lump in your hand, looking lost and contemplating taking a bite out of it." "I really couldn't stand it." "You were too dirty." "I thought, before I die, I might as well throw that thing away and wash you clean." "At least make you less of an eyesore." So, I was taken home by a fox. Thinking back to that day, it feels absurd. Who would have thought this fox, who looks so dignified and aloof, actually has a penchant for self-harm in private? The clean, sharp cuts on his wrists have healed into jagged scars. Seeing me stare at his wrist, he silently pulled his sleeve down. "Don't look, it's ugly." "Once I clean you up and find a suitable owner, I'll send you away." Without hesitation, I nodded. The fox seemed a bit unhappy, staring at me wordlessly. I was brutally honest, pointing at his scars. "You don't value your own life, so I don't expect you to value mine." "If I stay with you, I might end up suffering a lot." The fox got angry. With a cold face, he chopped vegetables so loudly the house shook for a good while, then brought out a meal that looked, smelled, and tasted perfectly human. I knew better than to provoke him, so I ate quietly. Sitting across from me, the fox was so mad the tips of his ears were trembling. "You ate my food." I didn't even look up. "You picked me up. You're responsible." I don't understand why he's so emotionally unstable. The first day I was picked up by the fox, I curled up on the sofa and slept soundly. But in the middle of the night, the fox, sporting dark circles under his eyes, shook me awake. "Did you drug me? Why can't I sleep?" Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was my pitiful form curled up on the sofa. I was confused. "What does your insomnia have to do with me?" The fox stared straight at me for a while. Suddenly, he opened his arms and hugged me, burying his face in my neck and inhaling deeply. He even took the opportunity to carry me to the bed in his room. I struggled. "Are you a pervert?!" "You said at dinner I wasn't allowed in your private space, what are you doing now?!" The fox covered my mouth, silencing me. "I changed my mind." Then he rested his chin on my shoulder and closed his eyes. A moment later, the soft sound of steady breathing came from behind me. I lay there numbly, letting him hold me, staring at the ceiling. "I give up..." Foxes. Zero trustworthiness. 2 I transmigrated into this beast world a week ago. At the time, I knew nothing, staring blankly up at the cyberpunk-style buildings. I was even clutching a freshly made burrito in my hand. After hesitating for two seconds, I decisively walked to a nearby green belt, planning to finish my breakfast before pondering the serious question of where I was. Because in my hazy memory of crossing the street at a green light, I seemed to have been hit by something. But just as I sat down, my waist tightened. "Don't eat that. Dirty." The next second, a cool, calm voice spoke, and a furry head leaned in close to my neck. "A... wild human?" "Mm, smells like a little human." He sniffed, then casually tossed my burrito into a nearby trash can. Instinctively, I raised my hand and slapped him so hard his head turned. "Are you sick?!" I struggled against the restraint around my waist, looked down, and saw a fluffy white tail. The man with ears popping out of his head narrowed his eyes, touching his face as if savoring the feeling. Then. He tilted his head and offered me the other cheek. I froze, reaching out to touch those twitching ears. Warm, moving, and translucent enough in the light to show the pink of blood flow. I paused, my gaze falling on my blood-stained hands. A flash of memory hit my brain—me getting hit by a car while crossing the street. Then my eyes rolled back, and I fainted. Just as I closed my eyes, I heard the man scream in panic: "Human, don't die—" Damn it, I must have gone crazy from working too much. I actually saw the shadow of a fox in a person. This is too weird. The fox-kin carried me to the hospital for a checkup. Originally, the fox warned me that once he cleaned the blood off me, he'd find me an owner and send me away. I saw the scars on his wrist and calmly nodded in agreement. But after one night. The fox processed the human adoption papers. 3 And so, I was adopted by the fox-kin, becoming a member of his household. After thinking about it all night, the fox decided not to die for now. He brought me home, acting all cool and indifferent along the way. "Do you have a name? Shall I give you one?" "Do you prefer 'Good Human' or 'Baby Human'?" How is this any different from a human seeing a kitten on the street and cooing "Kitty kitty"? I put on a cold face and slapped away his hand. "Neither. I have my own name." "My name is Sarah." The fox-kin didn't mind my rudeness; instead, he nodded good-naturedly. "I'm Asher. I'm a fox-kin. You're my little human now, understand?" I stopped walking and emphasized, "I'm not a pet you're raising. I'm a person." The fox-kin tilted his head and smiled at me. "You look really cute when you're serious. I want to kiss you." Since sleeping while holding the human and smelling her scent last night, he figured it out. If he ignored me, there was a high probability this little human would die, so he had to live. Suddenly, I felt a warm touch on my cheek. Simultaneously, my raised hand came down. The fox-kin covered his face, muttering as he opened the door for me, "That still hurts a bit." My expression was serious as I reiterated, "I told you, keep your hands off me!" "I really will hit you." The fox-kin lowered his eyes, looking at me with pity and affection. "But I'm not a human, I'm a kin. Those are different concepts." "Did I pick up a mentally challenged little human?" "But it doesn't matter, I can raise her. The little human just needs to be healthy and happy." Me: "..." 4 The fox who adopted me said that in my original life, I was already dead. I looked at him with disbelief. But then, a flash in my brain showed me clutching a burrito and flying through the air after being hit by a car. I swallowed the words on the tip of my tongue. I seem to really be a little bit dead... He explained: "This is the Beast World. Every human who dies by accident randomly appears here, and kin take the opportunity to pick up these intermittently dropping humans to raise." "Humans who arrive here need to be registered for unified socialization training later to prevent stress." "Mm... picking up a human is kind of like seeing a dirty, pitiful kitten on the road and wanting to adopt it." "But it's also different because here, kin and humans can be together." "And humans who come here have a unique soothing ability that can prevent kin from going feral." "Although it's my first time raising a human, I've done a lot of research online." I closed my eyes, terrified to imagine being raised by a fox-kin. Asher picked me up like a child and walked toward the bathroom. His tone was gentle and doting: "Alright, time for your bath." My eyes widened in horror, and I struggled desperately, grabbing the door handle. "I can do it myself! I don't need you to wash me!" Asher coaxed me patiently, prying my fingers off one by one. "Be good, little human, don't squirm or you'll fall." "You just got here, you don't know how to use things yet. Let me wash you." I screamed: "Humans are autonomous! I can wash myself! I really don't need your help—" I kicked and punched in his arms, struggling so hard I wished I could slither away into the shadows. I was harder to pin down than a pig at New Year's.
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