Landlord in the Arctic-Chapter 74: Swann

WOOF WOOF WOOF!!

A volley of barks shattered the twilight quiet.

Startled awake by the sudden barking, Feng Shan looked in the direction of the sound.

The barks echoed on the frigid wind, carrying a note of urgency and agitation.

First came two beams of light, followed by the roar of an engine.

Two snowmobiles appeared at the foot of the mountain. Two strangers in heavy cold-weather gear dismounted. Their hats and scarves were caked with frost, and they carried shotguns. Accompanied by a hound, they began climbing the snowy slope.

The moment the two parties met,

GRRRRR!!

the White Wolves immediately went on alert, letting out low growls that scared the other party’s hound into stopping in its tracks.

"Hey, hey, buddy! Get your dogs under control."

"Come back." Feng Shan nodded, calling the White Wolves to his side while simultaneously slipping a hand inside his fur coat.

"Easy, buddy! We mean no harm!" Seeing Feng Shan’s movement, the man quickly lowered his shotgun to show he had no hostile intent.

Feng Shan also withdrew his hand. "Alright. How about we try being friendly?"

"Of course. Where are you from?" one of the strangers asked, taking off his hat and goggles to reveal salt-and-pepper hair and flat features.

Seeing this, Feng Shan also took off his neck gaiter and pointed to the cold Black Wolf beside him.

"I’m from the Crown Territory. I got lost while tracking a Wolf Pack. This is their alpha."

"Buddy, are you kidding me?" The man with the salt-and-pepper hair stared at Feng Shan in shock. Suddenly remembering something, he shouted, "Are you Feng? Damn it, how did you end up all the way out here in Kivalina?"

"And you are?" Hearing the familiarity in the man’s tone, Feng Shan asked uncertainly.

"It’s me, Old Swan! Don’t you recognize my voice?" the man laughed loudly.

’Old Swan??’

Of course he knew the name.

They often chatted on the radio, where Old Swan had boasted about single-handedly hunting a Bowhead Whale that weighed over a hundred tons. It was just that the voice on the radio was a little different from his real one, so Feng Shan hadn’t recognized it at first.

Old Swan laughed and stepped forward to embrace Feng Shan. "Buddy, from the Crown Territory to Kivalina... you run farther than a reindeer."

After letting go, he introduced the shorter companion by his side.

"This is my grandson, Little Swan."

Suddenly, Little Swan pointed at the Black Wolf behind Feng Shan and shouted, "Grandpa, it’s Fenrir! Fenrir is dead!"

’What?’

Old Swan’s expression changed dramatically. He looked where his grandson was pointing, and his face immediately broke into a wide, blossoming smile.

"Feng, you killed it? My God, you’ve saved Kivalina! You’ve saved the Far North Tundra!"

’What Fenrir?’

Feng Shan was still completely lost, with no idea what riddle the grandfather and grandson were talking about.

Old Swan didn’t have time to explain to Feng Shan. Instead, he pulled out a walkie-talkie and rattled off a long string of incomprehensible Inuit slang.

Meanwhile, Little Swan ran over to the Black Wolf, reaching out a hand as if to touch it but not daring to.

After the call ended, Old Swan gazed at the Black Wolf, his expression a mixture of excitement and sorrowful reflection.

"Fenrir. That’s its name. It roamed the Far North Tundra with a pack of North American Gray Wolves and frequently haunted Kivalina. It scared away the migrating reindeer herds, causing a severe food shortage in town. We organized several hunts to round it up, and the state government even put out a bounty."

"But Fenrir managed to escape every roundup. After a while, it would always come back with an even larger pack and retaliate against the town. It killed all the sled dogs belonging to several families and even dragged the carcasses to the doorsteps of the Hunters who had tried to hunt it. At night, none of the residents dared to go outside."

"How did you end up in a conflict with it?"

’So this Black Wolf was infamous after all.’

The little bit of guilt in Feng Shan’s heart dissipated. "It was hunting my reindeer in the Crown Territory."

"What about the rest of the pack? Every time Fenrir showed up, it was leading a Super Wolf Pack," Old Swan asked curiously.

Feng Shan briefly recounted what had happened.

"I tracked it for five days. Then I ambushed the Wolf Pack on a snowy slope and shot more than twenty gray wolves. The rest scattered. This Black Wolf was wounded, and I’ve been chasing it ever since."

"Good, good. It’s good that it’s dead. Kivalina is saved." Although Feng Shan’s account was an understatement, Old Swan was also a veteran Tundra Hunter and naturally understood the dangers involved.

It was over 400 kilometers in a straight line from the Crown Territory to Kivalina, and in the middle of a blizzard, no less. Two people and three dogs had dared to pursue a Super Wolf Pack across the Tundra, and had even managed to kill more than twenty gray wolves and the Alpha Wolf.

This wasn’t something that could be accomplished with courage alone; it probably required a touch of madness as well.

In the distance,

a cluster of lights appeared, and the roar of engines nearly drowned out the sound of the wind.

Over a dozen snowmobiles were speeding toward the slope.

"Feng, you’ve saved Kivalina! The townspeople have all come to thank you." Old Swan chuckled, waving at the approaching snowmobiles.

Soon, the residents of Kivalina Town climbed the slope. The moment they saw the Black Wolf, they began to dance with excitement. Some even fell to their knees and wept.

’It seems the town has suffered greatly at the hands of this Wolf Pack.’

Seeing this, Feng Shan guessed to himself.

A welcoming ceremony was next.

The townspeople joyfully carried the Black Wolf’s carcass back to Kivalina.

Feng Shan rode on Old Swan’s snowmobile, following the main group across the rugged, snow-covered Tundra, over frozen riverbeds and lagoons, before stopping in front of a wide lagoon.

Ice floes drifted sporadically across the water’s surface. A gravel road, elevated above the water, connected to Shaba Island on the other side. The island itself was about three meters above the water level and stretched along the lagoon into the distance.

Lights twinkled on Shaba Island, where houses came into view in the twilight. Their snow-covered roofs looked like white hats.

"Feng, that’s Kivalina over there." Old Swan pointed at Shaba Island across the lagoon, then pushed himself up from the snowmobile and shouted, "Internet, light the bonfire in the square and get the beer ready!"

"Roger that!"

A man in cold-weather gear shouted back, then twisted the throttle. His snowmobile shot up the gravel road with a WHOOSH, and the other townspeople followed with high-pitched, strange cries.

Following the gravel road along the lagoon, the snowmobiles passed through an archway made of whale ribs and parts of a whaling boat, entering Kivalina.

Shaba Island wasn’t wide, but long and narrow. The houses were built haphazardly, as if without any planning—one here, one there. The styles varied, too; there were container homes, wooden cabins, and insulated huts.

The snowmobile drove down the town’s only muddy main road and stopped in front of a dilapidated wooden cabin. Little Swan followed, bringing Nash, with the White Wolves trailing closely behind.

"Feng, welcome to my home! Come on in for a cup of moss tea. The bonfire ceremony will take some time to prepare. Internet will come get us when it’s ready." Old Swan hopped off the snowmobile with a warm welcome. After dropping off Nash, Little Swan drove the snowmobile away.

Stepping into the cabin, the room lacked the distinct Inuit style Feng Shan had imagined. On the contrary, it was spartan to the extreme.

There was a fireplace, a table, a few chairs, and a reindeer-hide blanket. Hunting tools were scattered messily all around. The only thing that made it superior to his place in the Crown Territory was the electricity.

Upon entering, Feng Shan nearly covered his nose. The air was thick with the sour, rancid smell of foot odor. Amplified by the heat of the fire, it was so strong it made his eyes water.

’Mmm, this smell really packs a punch!’

"Sorry. Since Little Swan’s parents left to work in Juno, no one’s been tidying up the place," Old Swan said, opening the fireplace flue and tossing a few more logs into the firebox.

"It’s no problem!" Feng Shan waved his hand dismissively, forcing an unconcerned expression.

Nash, on the other hand, seemed to have no sense of smell, walking expressionlessly to a corner of the room to sit down. From a backpack, he let out Coca-Cola, Prince, and the Little Wolf Cub.

The three little ones had just poked their heads out when they were instantly driven back by the potent air. They would rather be squeezed into the cramped backpack than come out.

Then he saw the greasy teapot on the fireplace, its rim caked with grime, and the moss-scented tea water within.

Feng Shan couldn’t help but recall his great-uncle’s warning from his diary.

’When you enter Inuit territory, you must not touch any of their food or water.’

’Remember: *any* of it!!’

...