What broke free from the egg was a small wolf. Could this really have been born from Dagne’s lingering influence? However, Dagne had been a massive black beast, while this one shimmered with silver fur. This difference left Do-Jin unsettled, though the thought barely had time to form before the pup stirred.

The little wolf’s eyes snapped open, locking onto him. “Do-Jin!”

That made him freeze on the spot. It wasn’t his imagination, nor a strange sound he’d mistaken for his name. The wolf had enunciated it clearly and deliberately. Its pupils were the sharp slits of a beast, yet within them lingered a light he knew all too well.

“No fucking way...” Do-Jin whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief.

As the small wolf struggled to its feet, silver and blue mana drifted weakly from its body like scattering sparks. Its legs wobbled, and after a few unsteady steps, it collapsed at Do-Jin’s feet. It lowered its chin onto his boot as though finding safety there, and its eyes fluttered shut in pure relief.

Do-Jin crouched down slowly and carefully placed his hand on its head.

“I thought I had walked too long. I thought I was lost for good,” the wolf said shakily. “But... I made it here. Thank god...”

The moment he heard that voice, Do-Jin knew. It was different in tone, warped through the body of a beast, yet there was no mistaking it.

“It’s you,” he whispered, stroking the wolf’s head with steady fingers.

The Watcher’s soul had settled into the Spirit Egg and been reborn before him in the form of this small wolf. How such a thing was even possible was beyond him. Maybe years of being tied to Dagne had slowly twisted her into a spirit. Or perhaps the flood of Spirit Power that had torn through the clearing at the end had forced her soul into the egg.

Spirits in Lostania were often born from bizarre, cruel twists of fate like that, but whatever the reason, he set it aside. What he saw with his own eyes was enough.

“You made it back,” Do-Jin said, his voice rough as he continued to pet her. “You went through so much.”

The wolf’s face, even in its animal form, looked serene. She seemed almost happy.

***

The girl had dozed off without realizing it, and the moment her eyes opened she turned her head in every direction. She needed to make sure what she had seen before falling asleep hadn’t just been a dream.

The first thing she spotted was the campfire. Hanging above it was the large pot she knew so well. The smell hit her next, a smell she would never forget. For a moment she let herself get lost in it, then quickly began searching for what she truly wanted to find.

Do-Jin wasn’t anywhere near the fire, so the girl shot to her feet. Her nose twitched sharply as she sniffed the air. As a wolf spirit, she had a heightened sense of smell, and the faint scent of a human reached her immediately. The moment it hit her, she ran.

“Do-Jin!”

The girl bolted toward him with everything she had. Do-Jin braced himself and caught the small wolf as she leaped into his arms.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, holding her steady.

“What were you doing out here?” she asked, scanning the empty expanse. “There’s nothing in this wasteland worth sticking around for...”

She trailed off as something else caught her attention. In her rush to reach him, she hadn’t noticed it before. The entire clearing was filled with graves. Her eyes locked onto the headstone that stood right in front of her. A simple bowl and spoon had been laid at its base.

Do-Jin adjusted his grip, tucking the wolf girl against one arm while leaning down to gather up the utensils. Then, he quietly explained, “I left yours here. Everything else belongs to me.”

The girl wasn’t naive. She saw at once that this place was his creation, and that the most meticulously prepared grave had been meant for her. Her eyes lingered on the engraving. These were the words he had chosen to remember her by, the ones left to speak for whom she had been.

For my friend who loved warm stew.

Her body trembled as she twisted out of his arms, forcing herself to stand on her own. “Do-Jin.”

Her instincts, sharpened by death, gave a quiet warning. What she was about to do was a choice that could never be undone. She answered them with certainty. She had walked all the way back through that endless darkness for this one thing.

“What?” Do-Jin asked, his brow furrowing at the sudden shift in her presence.

“Since I was born again, I have no name. Give me one.” Her voice carried a weight deeper than her small body should have been able to hold. “I give everything that I am to you. My existence will follow the span of your life, and when your life ends, so will mine.”

Only a spirit willing to cast away the eternity it had been granted could speak such words. It was the vow of absolute servitude, a contract where a spirit surrendered itself fully to a master and accepted both chains and devotion.

“I will share your time, Do-Jin, so make a contract with me.”

A message shimmered into view.

[The spirit wishes to form a bond of servitude. Do you accept?]

The little wolf’s eyes shimmered with both hope and fear. She was worried he might reject her.

Do-Jin didn’t hesitate. “Okay, count me in.”

In a moment like this, staring into eyes like that, saying anything else would have been the dumbest thing he could possibly do. His only concern now was figuring out the right name to give her.

“Really? You mean it?”

Her tail lashed back and forth wildly, her whole body trembling with excitement. She looked like she would throw herself at him any second, yet she held herself back, waiting. She needed to hear the name.

Her eyes locked on him, overflowing with expectation.

Good thing I decided on one ahead of time.

He had already picked a proper name for the friend who had none. It came from a small white flower that had bloomed beside her while she slept, the windflower’s other name.

“Anemone.” His voice was steady as he spoke it aloud. “It suits you. You always did run through the forest like the wind itself.”

“Anemone...?” she whispered, tilting her head.

“Do you like it?” Do-Jin asked.

The little wolf, now Anemone, nodded furiously in answer.

[Contract with the spirit “Anemone” has been completed.]

Her body dissolved into light and seeped into him.

[Anemone’s level and stats are recalibrated to match the level and stats of her contractor.]

When he called her name and extended his hand, she appeared again in a flash of silver light. Her level had jumped with the growth that came from being a spirit, and her body had changed with it. The wolf that had once been small enough to be mistaken for a pup was now bigger than any ordinary wolf. Even standing on all fours, her head reached up to Do-Jin’s face. Physically, the only thing that had changed was her size.

The moment Do-Jin summoned Anemone, she shoved her head against him like a puppy greeting its master.

As he stroked her massive head, a thought came to him. So turning into a canine spirit means she picked up a canine’s personality too, huh?

Whether she was more wolf or dog didn’t matter, however. What mattered was that she looked happy. That was enough. Either way, it was time to leave the forest. He was done sleeping in the dirt.

***

It had been rough, full of unexpected twists, but the hidden quest was over. And the outcome wasn’t bad. If Anemone had stayed dead, no reward would’ve been enough to lift the weight in his chest. But she came back, and thanks to that, he’d grown much stronger.

I ended up with a spirit that fills in exactly what a mage like me lacks. I couldn’t have asked for better.

Do-Jin’s biggest weakness had always been physical combat. Having a wolf spirit built for raw power guarding his blind spots while he cast spells was a massive advantage. Her fangs and claws made quick work of anything that got too close. Depending on how he used her, she had the potential to become a monstrous asset in any fight. All in all, things had wrapped up on a high note.

“Time to finally get some rest,” Do-Jin muttered.

He threw himself onto his real bed for the first time in what felt like forever. In the game, he had been stuck sleeping on freezing dirt floors just to recover his avatar’s stamina. The soft yet firm mattress beneath him now nearly brought tears to his eyes. The difference was worlds apart.

I guess people really do need to hit rock bottom every once in a while if they want to remember what happiness feels like. The thought drifted through his head as he rolled around, soaking in the comfort of the sheets.

Before long, exhaustion smothered him, and his eyelids sank closed.

“Do-Jin...”

The voice of Chun Ji-Hyun reached him. It was so faint he couldn’t tell if it was bleeding in from reality or just echoing inside a dream.

“Should I... send...?”

Her words broke up, fading in and out. Do-Jin let out a quiet breath as his consciousness slipped away, answering in a half-dreaming murmur.

“Do whatever the hell you want.”

***

The content team at Rael Entertainment had been swamped lately. Not only were they pumping out promo videos nonstop, but the company had also signed a wave of new celebrities, MeTubers, and other creators, which meant even more work piling onto their plates.

In the middle of that chaos, the head of the team had spent three straight days doing nothing else, all because of one ridiculously long video, titled “Do-Jin Creator Playthrough (Full).” It ran nearly an entire week in length, an absurdly overwhelming piece of footage.

To set the overall direction of production, the team leader first had to understand the raw material down to the smallest detail. And to nail the flow and atmosphere of the edit, she had no choice but to sit through the entire thing. Even at double speed, it still ate up three whole days of her life. By the time she finished, her dark circles were darker than ever.

The first person she went to see was Director Ju Kang-Hee.

“Chief, I’ll stake my life on this. This video is going to blow the roof off. Everything up until now has been big, but this one is on a whole other level.”

“More importantly, are you all right?” the director responded. “You look awful—”

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine. Please take a look at this first.”

With half-lidded eyes, the team leader handed over a proposal for the production. Calling it a proposal was generous. It was really just a pile of ideas that boiled down to asking for money. The problem was the figure written inside. Even after shaving down numbers here and there, the final budget still came out to around five billion won.

Five billion wasn’t unheard of in the current market, but it wasn’t exactly pocket change either. That kind of budget usually went into large-scale projects built from the ground up. However, this was just a gameplay video, cutting, editing, and spicing it up for maximum impact. Nobody burned that much money on something like this.

The fact that she was this excited, shoving what was basically nonsense in her face, meant Do-Jin must have caused a hell of a stir this time.

I’ll have to check it myself, even if it’s just to satisfy my curiosity, Ju Kang-Hee thought.

For now, she tried to usher the restless team leader out, telling her she’d make the call after reviewing the video herself. However, the former had come prepared. She queued up a handful of highlight clips from the playthrough and showed them to Kang-Hee on the spot.

Fifteen minutes later, the team leader walked out of her office with a bright smile on her face.

The contract renewal isn’t far off. It’s the perfect time to show what we can do. If I push too hard she’ll hate it, but if I strike the right balance, it’ll be fine.

Kang-Hee stayed behind, her eyes fixed on Do-Jin’s figure on the monitor. In her head, one project after another spun into place like a panorama, each connected to the results this video could bring.