Good Baby C31

Chapter 31

An An had excellent eyesight. When hunting, he could spot prey from a great distance. After confirming that the scent of blood did not come from his mother bringing food back, he let out a sigh of relief and shifted his attention to the little lion running toward them.

From appearance alone, it was impossible to tell how old this little lion was, but from the unique aura on his body, it was clear that he was also a beastman.

He was so thin that he seemed to be just skin and bones, his fur was dull, and though his eyes were large, they carried a timid look that showed he had suffered a great deal.

At that moment, he was crouched on the ground, staring warily at Gairo and An An.

After confirming that they had no intention of attacking him, he pounced greedily onto the half-eaten prey An An had left from lunch.

The little lion ate quickly, tearing off pieces of meat and swallowing them whole without chewing. An An lay there watching his bulging cheeks and suddenly found it amusing.

Gairo, after determining that this lion had not eaten meat for a long time and posed no threat to them, simply lay back down.

Just yesterday, Maya had scolded him for not washing his paws after eating and dragging dirt into the cave, which had even gotten An An dirty. Now, feeling wronged, Gairo couldn’t be bothered with any of this.

If the little lion had tried to snatch food from his mouth, Gairo would never have allowed it, but since he was only nibbling on their leftovers, he didn’t care.

Realizing that they weren’t going to chase him away, the little lion gradually grew bolder. Though still small, he seemed determined to devour the massive chunk of meat that was bigger than his own body.

An An watched as the little lion’s belly swelled like an inflated balloon. His big eyes filled with curiosity—he had never seen a cub eat this much before.

Oh, wait. Actually, he had never seen another cub at all.

Most beastman cubs were driven out at a young age, forced to survive on their own. They were naturally cautious, never letting their guard down—even around former family members, let alone strangers.

Those lucky enough to stay with their parents were only able to do so if their parents had a strong and loving bond. And spoiled little cubs like that? An An had never even seen one.

When the little lion noticed the adult tiger staring at him, he was so startled that his fur stood on end. But hunger overpowered his instinct to flee, and he forced himself to stay put.

He was starving. Before finding this place, he had been so emaciated that his skin clung to his bones. The sensation of gradually filling his stomach felt so good that he even thought—if he died after eating his fill, that would be fine.

Once An An confirmed that the little lion had eaten enough, he stood up and walked toward him.

Seeing the big tiger approaching, the little lion’s fur bristled again, and he was about to bolt—only for An An to react swiftly, pinning his tail down.

Not long ago, the little lion had fought with other beastmen over a rabbit. He had no strength left to resist, especially against an adult tiger who was clearly much stronger than him.

His body trembled uncontrollably, as if he had already accepted his fate.

An An leaned over and grabbed the lion by the scruff of his neck, carrying him over to Gairo. He placed the little lion in front of him, as if presenting something interesting.

Gairo, annoyed from being scolded earlier, lazily swiped a paw at An An, telling him to go away. He was still sulking—why would he want to play right now?

Seeing that Gairo refused to join him, An An let out a small, displeased hum and carried the little lion off to the side by himself.

The little lion’s body was covered in visible wounds, and his paws were worn raw. An An could tell he weighed even less than a rabbit.

Perhaps because An An didn’t seem as threatening as those who had previously tried to eat him, the little lion gradually stopped shaking. He was still scared, but not as much.

He had been wandering outside for far too long, and with winter approaching, he knew he likely wouldn’t survive until spring.

Now that he was full, the little lion completely gave up on resisting. Even as the big tiger flipped him over and toyed with him, he couldn’t be bothered to move.

After noticing that the little lion wasn’t reacting, An An paused, then gently nudged him to test if he was still alive.

The little lion let out a faint whimper in response, making An An exhale in relief. Good—he hadn’t accidentally poked him to death.

Just then, Maya returned with a bundle of medicinal herbs. She saw An An, a massive tiger, lying there with his front paws stretched out, resting his chin on them. His tail swayed lazily behind him, as if he had found a fascinating new toy.

When she got closer, she realized it wasn’t a toy at all—it was a beastman cub, a little lion who looked like he had only been born recently!

Maya set down the herbs she had gathered, frowned, and asked,

“An An, winter is coming soon.”

She stated this matter-of-factly. Maya knew An An well—he was soft-hearted. There was no way he would ignore a situation like this.

But in the coming months, even their own food supply would be extremely tight, let alone enough for an extra little lion.

Maya had raised An An herself, watching him grow up. She knew just how difficult it was to raise a cub in the harsh environment of the plains.

That was precisely why so many cubs were abandoned every year.

If they weren’t capable of raising a cub, it was always more important to prioritize themselves.

The little lion certainly looked pitiful, but from any practical standpoint, keeping him would bring them no benefits.

“Mama, it’s so cold. He’ll freeze to death,” An An pleaded. “Mama, look—he’s so skinny.”

An An didn’t dare state his true intentions outright, so he resorted to acting pitiful in hopes of coaxing Maya into agreeing.

The little lion seemed to sense that Maya was the one who would decide his fate. He clumsily moved closer, trying to nuzzle her head in an attempt to win her favor.

His actions reminded Maya uncontrollably of An An when he was little.

However, An An had never been this well-behaved. Most of the time, he was playful and mischievous, only showing this kind of adorable expression when he was in trouble.

Gairo, who had always indulged An An, noticed that Maya was starting to waver. He licked his paw and casually said,

“Let’s keep him. It’s not like we can’t afford to.”

He walked over and gave the little lion’s tail a playful tug. Though it was a slightly offensive gesture, the little lion didn’t dare make a sound.

To him, the two beastmen in front of him, along with the half-beastwoman who had just arrived, all gave off the same impression: they lived well.

Originally, he had thought he was lucky just to get a meal here. But now, it seemed like he could actually stay?

Was this really happening?

For a beastman like him—less than a year old, fragile, and unable to hunt—it was almost certain he would die before the first snowfall.

Maya initially wanted to prioritize their survival. They had just enough food stored for the three of them to last the winter, along with supplies for warmth and herbs for unexpected injuries.

Just thinking about it gave her a headache.

Such a tiny little lion—raising him would take far more than just feeding him scraps of meat.

Such a small little lion wouldn’t grow up just by feeding him a piece of meat.

But seeing both An An and Gairo staring at her eagerly, and the little lion even taking the initiative to rub against her palm, her heart gradually softened.

“If you really want to keep him, then you both can’t slack off in the coming days. If we don’t have enough food for the winter, the ones going hungry will be the four of us.”

The mere thought of hunting in the winter, when his paws nearly froze stiff, made An An’s scalp tingle. He hurriedly promised,

“Mom, I’ll go with Gairo! Gairo said he’s willing to catch three prey every day!”

Gairo, who was just lying there doing nothing, was suddenly forced into committing to catching three prey a day.

Maya was long used to their interactions. Gairo had a naturally slow personality, though before, due to his overwhelming strength, few had noticed this.

After living together for so long, they had all seen clearly how sluggish his reactions were.

“You’re the one who wanted to bring this little lion back, but what about you, An An?”

Previously, Maya had always considered that An An was still young and had let him off the hook.

But now, An An was already an adult beastman, and the way he was educated could no longer be centered around indulgence.

Especially since bringing the little lion back meant he was becoming part of their family—An An had to understand the price he needed to pay.

“I’ll catch three too!”

An An really liked this little lion. When he saw the cub yelping as Gairo bullied him, he ran over and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, carrying him off to a sunnier spot.

That afternoon, Gairo and An An went out hunting while Maya took the little lion to the river for a bath.

After the bath, the little lion’s thin body was fully revealed before Maya’s eyes. It was practically just skin and bones, wrapped in a thin layer of flesh. What surprised her even more was that this little lion was also white-furred.

However, unlike An An, he wasn’t as lucky. After wandering outside for so long, he could no longer be cleaned completely.

Even though the water ran clear after washing him, he still looked dusty and gray.

Maya was simply astonished that she had encountered two white-furred cubs in a row. In truth, white-furred ones being abandoned was not uncommon. When An An first started practicing hunting, he had suffered quite a bit because of his fur color.

A color that was so easily spotted meant a higher mortality rate, making it more likely for parents to abandon their cubs shortly after birth.

After a brief period of adaptation and practice, An An and Gairo had developed seamless teamwork. Together, they could even attempt to take down a giraffe, which was not commonly seen on the grasslands.

Before, Gairo had relied purely on brute strength, covering up any flaws. But now, with An An beside him as a comparison, those flaws became much more obvious.

Clever and quick-witted, An An feared hardship and exhaustion, so he often used his wits. Their teamwork meant Gairo was getting injured less and less.

After three hunting trips, both Gairo and An An had caught three prey each. Seeing that the sun hadn’t yet set, Gairo lightly tapped An An with his tail. Though reluctant, An An still got up and followed him to hunt for their dinner.

Seeing how hard the two of them were working, Maya, of course, wouldn’t lag behind. After cleaning up the little lion and making him look presentable, she checked their stored food.

The drying time for the food needed to be carefully controlled. If it wasn’t dried properly, it could easily spoil in this weather, which occasionally warmed up.

After confirming that their stored food was in good condition, she looked at the little lion following behind her, unable to stop himself from swallowing his saliva. She bent down and gently rubbed his head.

The little lion had never seen a group that interacted like this. He hadn’t been abandoned from birth—his mother had been reluctant to part with him. She had kept him by her side for half a month after he was born.

Later, because of his unattractive fur and his father’s threats, his mother had no choice but to abandon him somewhere.

Having struggled to survive on the grasslands for so many years, what the little lion missed most was the time spent beside his mother.

But in his most cherished memories, his parents’ relationship was nothing like the harmony between these three.

“Mom! I’m back!!”

A clear, youthful voice rang out from outside. The little lion and Maya both looked toward the source of the sound, only to see a big tiger returning with a lifeless buffalo in its mouth.

An An had never raised a cub before and had no idea what they liked to eat. So he and Gairo specifically went out to catch one of his own favorite foods.

“You’ve worked hard.”

Maya walked over and picked off the bits of dry grass stuck to An An, then skillfully used a sharp stone she had found earlier to divide the meat.

In the past, An An would always fight Gairo to the death over the animal’s heart. But today, they both unanimously pushed it toward the little lion. After all, he was the new member of their family, and An An was willing to let him have his favorite food first.

When the food was placed before him, the little lion seemed almost in disbelief. He hesitated to touch it, his dark eyes darting between them one by one. Only after confirming that none of them objected did he dare to take a bite.

An An had a very picky palate—if he thought something was delicious, it had to be special. The little lion had never eaten anything so tasty before, and his eyes grew slightly moist with emotion.

It was a beautiful evening. After their meal, the sun had yet to fully set, painting the sky with warm orange hues and fiery clouds.

Maya, An An, and Gairo lay neatly together. When the little lion, now full to the point of wobbling as he walked, came outside and saw this scene, he hesitated for a long time before finally deciding to lie down on Maya’s left side, mimicking their posture.

From a distance, the scene looked like a lion, a leopard, and two tigers, arranged in order from smallest to largest—almost like a Wi-Fi signal.

“Mom, shouldn’t we give this little lion a name?”

Lying there, An An suddenly thought of this. Since they had picked him up, they couldn’t just keep calling him “little lion.”

“What do you want to call him?”

Gairo, who had been half-dozing, perked up his ears. He knew very well that, given his intelligence, he definitely wouldn’t come up with a good name. So he simply waited to hear An An’s choice.

“How about Tuntun? Does that sound good, Mom?”

“Mm, it sounds good.”

Maya couldn’t judge if the name was good or bad, but it did sound pleasant. The little lion, lying nearby, appeared calm on the surface, but his tail swayed back and forth. Judging by the rhythm, he was very satisfied.

Tuntun didn’t understand the meaning of the name, but he vaguely sensed that after they had given him one, they had fully accepted him into their group—he had become one of them.

That evening, as the sun finally set and the sky darkened, they returned to their cave to sleep.

An An specially laid down the rabbit pelts he had skinned earlier and carried the little lion over, placing him on top.

With a new member in the family, Maya carefully calculated how much more food they would need.

They didn’t need to prepare enough for the entire winter—after all, during their first winter of laziness, it had taken them a long time to regain their hunting skills.

These foods were all prepared by Maya for emergencies when the snowstorm became too intense, making it impossible to discern directions outside.

Tun Tun lay on the soft rabbit fur. As soon as he opened his eyes, he could see a tiger not far away. In the past, he would have been terrified, but today, he instead felt a strange sense of security.

Closing his eyes, he gradually drifted into sleep. Since being driven out by his tribe, this was the first time he had slept so soundly.

The next day, even the most carefree Gairo knew to leave the cave quietly. They were preparing to go out hunting and settle their breakfast at the same time. Maya stayed at home, as they still had half of the prey they caught last night.

This had always been their arrangement—to leave a portion of food the night before for those who wouldn’t be going out hunting the next day.

Walking across the grasslands in the morning sunlight, An An accidentally got some dew on his paws as he stepped on the grass. He scrunched up his face in disgust and rubbed his paws against Gairo.

His white fur was very easy to stain, making An An extremely fond of cleanliness. Any bit of dirt on him had to be washed off immediately.

In contrast, Gairo’s fur was much more resistant to dirt, and he didn’t mind the little tiger he raised rubbing himself on him.

They worked together when hunting, always achieving results greater than the sum of their efforts.

Maya and Gairo could achieve this effect as well, though mainly because Gairo never really learned the techniques Maya tried to teach him. He was even arrogantly convinced that he didn’t need to learn them at all and absolutely refused to admit that he simply wasn’t very bright.

If they successfully caught prey, they would return by noon. If they failed, they wouldn’t be back until mid-afternoon.

While others on the grasslands were lucky if they could get one meal a day to fill their stomachs, they were already living a stable life with three meals a day.

When the little lion used to wander alone, he had to scavenge the scraps left behind by stronger beastmen and constantly stay alert to avoid becoming someone else’s food. Going hungry was his norm.

But things were different now. Tun Tun thought the morning meal was his only meal for the entire day, so he stuffed himself as much as he could, fearing he wouldn’t eat enough.

By noon, before his first meal was fully digested, Gairo and An An came back carrying food and gave him another large piece of meat.

In just a single day, by dinnertime, Tun Tun felt like food was about to spill out of his throat. He lay on the ground with a belly as round as a small ball, letting out soft whimpers.

Gairo thought back to how An An was the same in the beginning. He exchanged a glance with Maya, and it was clear they were both thinking the same thing.

An An, who loved cleanliness, went to the stream to wash his paws and brought back a flower for Tun Tun on his way back.

As autumn deepened, the leaves on the surrounding trees had turned yellow. Whenever the wind blew, they would swirl down in waves. The longer Tun Tun stayed here, the happier he became.

They didn’t seem to be raising him just to fatten him up for food, as he had initially feared. They genuinely seemed to enjoy feeding him.

Under their care, Tun Tun grew quickly. Before the first snowfall, he had already gained quite a bit of weight.

An An was no longer the ignorant young beastman he once was. Lying at the entrance of the cave, he watched the snowflakes fall, silently praying that winter would be shorter.

He didn’t like winter at all—it was too difficult to find food. But for the same reason, he also disliked summer, which might force them to leave their home.

If possible, he wished autumn would last longer on this grassland.

Spring wouldn’t work. In spring, many of the prey he caught were pregnant. Whenever An An discovered this, no matter how hard it was to catch them, he would always let them go. As a result, he often went hungry.

Seeing snow for the first time, Tun Tun was just like An An had been before—excitedly running in circles in the snow. But later, when his paws became numb from the cold, he hopped back in a very strange posture.

“Awuu awuu…”

Feeling wronged, Tun Tun stretched out his frozen paws in front of An An. However, instead of coddling him like before, An An silently retracted his own paws.

There was no way he was warming up this little lion’s paws! When he was younger, after playing in the snow and freezing his own paws, he had tried to warm them up on Gairo—only to almost get kicked away.

Since he had suffered frozen paws, no one else should get special treatment either!

In the cave, Tun Tun anxiously paced in circles. After a few rounds, his numb paws gradually regained feeling, and once he realized he wasn’t as miserable as before, he quickly forgot about his grudge against An An for not warming his paws.

Maya had set a rule for them: as long as the snow wasn’t too heavy to leave the cave, they had to go hunting once every three days, and she was no exception.

They couldn’t use winter as an excuse to slack off.

An An hated having his paws frozen, but he also didn’t dare disobey his mother. Though he was sulking, it wasn’t too obvious. Every time, he would bring Tun Tun along, putting the little lion on Gairo’s back. Seeing Tun Tun’s fur get blown into a complete mess by the wind always lifted his mood.

Tun Tun, however, was nothing like An An in this regard. He didn’t mind hardship at all. When the wind and snow blew, he would instinctively find ways to shield himself.

He didn’t seem to realize that An An only brought him out because he was annoyed. He simply believed that An An was looking out for him and diligently practiced his hunting skills.

Sometimes, Tun Tun wanted to snuggle up and sleep with them. After all, the big tiger was warm and cozy to lean against.

Unfortunately, An An disliked how dirty Tun Tun’s paws got from playing outside, while Gairo worried that the little one was too small and might get crushed if he rolled over in his sleep.

After weighing his options, only Maya was occasionally willing to let him sleep beside her.

This winter, Gairo and An An didn’t lose their hunting skills. Every three days, they would go out and almost always return with enough food for a meal.

During the coldest period, for safety reasons, Maya forbade them from going out.

Maya had never personally witnessed an avalanche, but she had heard about them from a half-beast she once knew. No matter how fast a beastman ran, they couldn’t escape an avalanche and would only end up buried beneath it.

After living on the grasslands for so many years, Maya had gradually figured out nature’s patterns. Once the coldest days passed, and the snow stopped falling, it would take about a dozen more days before the tree at their cave entrance would sprout new buds.

By the end of winter, Tun Tun had grown much rounder. There was no trace of the skin-and-bones look he had when he first arrived, and he was even capable of independently catching small prey.

For every instance where someone praised Tun Tun, there would be a comparison drawn to An An, who, as a cub, had been lazy and done nothing.

After enduring the hardest times, life revived once more. When the snow began to melt, An An warned Tun Tun to stay inside the cave. If he saw Tun Tun going out and getting dirty, he wouldn’t allow him back inside.

Tun Tun longed to run outside, but the big tiger who brought him here wouldn’t let him. He could only sit inside the cave, feeling aggrieved as he watched the birds flying freely outside.

For a moment, he wished he had wings—but he didn’t dare say it, afraid he’d get kicked out.

At first, Maya was surprised that such an obedient and adorable cub existed. But when the snow melted for the first time, An An went outside and rolled around until he became a muddy tiger.

Once they realized it was An An’s request, it was no exception. Ever since coming of age, this cub had an extreme obsession with cleanliness.

It wasn’t a bad thing, so Maya chose to respect his wishes. However, it was unfortunate for little Tuntun. Because he couldn’t control himself and always got dirty, he had to stay in the cave and wait for the snow to melt.

Having learned from the failure of the previous An An, Maya was especially careful in educating Tuntun. She started taking him out on hunts when he was still very young.

Even in winter, Tuntun could catch two small prey. In spring, he even managed to bite a wild rabbit to death.

In the front, there was Gairo, who was tireless and hunted diligently every day. Behind him, there was little Tuntun, young yet full of bloodlust, catching more prey than him!

Caught in the middle, An An, after two days of self-reflection, decided to completely give up and relax.

With them in the family, he felt at ease.

Maya always had a good mindset. Although she missed their carefree life on that land, she knew that having such a time was already a blessing. She shouldn’t be too greedy.

After Tuntun caught a wild deer, he seemed to fall in love with the taste of venison and constantly thought about catching another.

Because of this, Maya was reminded of their past years. She regretted that Tuntun had appeared too late—he never got to witness the time when they ate so much deer meat that they nearly vomited.

Living together, even if they didn’t intend to, they unconsciously influenced each other.

For example, An An refused to hunt pregnant prey, and Gairo and Maya, influenced by him, also stopped.

The new little lion, Tuntun, was the same. No matter how exhausted he was from catching a prey, he would still choose to set it free.

Going hungry every few days was inevitable, but they didn’t mind. Maya could always find some delicious fruits to bring back.

Spring was the season for shedding. The thick fur they had grown for winter began to fall out, replaced by shorter fur to keep them comfortable in summer.

An An hated this the most. Gairo’s fur was hard to clean up, and Gairo, being an expert at shifting blame, always insisted that the yellow fur belonged to An An—even though their fur colors were completely different!

This year was even worse. Last autumn, Tuntun’s shedding wasn’t very noticeable. But after being well-fed this year, his fur was flying everywhere.

An An, frustrated, often wanted to kick Tuntun’s butt. Tuntun, knowing he was shedding excessively, would just whimper even if his butt hurt from the kicks.

While basking in the sun, little lion Tuntun couldn’t understand why there was such a cleanliness-obsessed tiger. He actually found the flying fur rather beautiful! Lions weren’t nearly as picky!

As spring, the season of renewal, passed, summer gradually arrived. As soon as summer began, the cicadas outside started chirping. It was fine when they called out occasionally, but they always seemed to do so when An An was trying to take a nap.

An An gently patted Tuntun’s butt with his paw, and Tuntun immediately ran out, climbed the trees, and chased away the cicadas one by one.

After many times, the cicadas finally understood that the tiger and lion here did not welcome their presence.

Tuntun sighed in relief after watching them fly far away. The big tiger found them annoying. At first, he only wanted them chased away, but now he wished they would all be eaten.

But they tasted bad. He had tried.

This summer was scorching hot. The sun withered the leaves, and the cave wasn’t cool at all. Instead, it was stuffy and unbearably hot. Frustrated, An An often soaked himself in water, eating a couple of fish when he got hungry.

Gairo also hated the heat. Before the weather even got hot, he had already dug a pit in the territory’s river, preparing for when summer arrived so he could soak in it.

However, most of the time, when he wanted to soak in the cool water, he found a tiger already occupying the pit.

Next to it, in a smaller pit, a little lion was also soaking. One big, one small, both with identical expressions of contentment.

As long as the water source remained, they could endure even the hottest summer.

…

In the blink of an eye, a year passed, and another winter arrived. By now, Tuntun had grown as long as An An’s tail.

As she aged, Maya wasn’t as agile as before. An An and Gairo refused to let her go out hunting anymore.

Even Tuntun would carry back the rabbits he caught and place them in front of Maya, hoping she would eat and stop going out.

The four of them weren’t related by blood, yet the care they had for each other surpassed even those bound by blood.

An An had fully grown into an adult tiger. In his beast form, even just lying there, he exuded an unexplainable sense of intimidation.

Gairo remained as strong as ever. Beastmen lived longer than half-beasts and aged much slower.

They had spent countless years together. Seeing his mother no longer as swift as before made An An feel sorrowful for a long time.

When he went out hunting alone, he would sometimes hide in a corner, secretly wiping his tears with his paw.

“Cub, birth, aging, sickness, and death are all normal parts of life. Growing up means having to say goodbye to those you care about.”

In the previous world, 250 couldn’t understand why the cub chose that path after growing up. In the end, Li Datao didn’t even live to see it.

Back then, it had thought that with so much time, instead of researching what seemed like a far-fetched fantasy, it would have been better to spend more time with his parents, making sure they had no regrets in their later years.

But now, seeing the big tiger hiding and wiping his tears, looking nothing like his usual mighty self, 250 suddenly understood his thoughts.

For a child who had never experienced parental love, once he finally had it, of course, he would want it to last forever.

“I can’t bear to part…”

An An wiped his tears with his paw. But once he started hunting again, he found his past self to be overly sentimental.

After all, his mother was still here, just not as agile as before.

If she couldn’t catch prey, he could catch more. If he couldn’t catch enough, he could go hungry instead.

It wouldn’t actually affect their lives much. Nothing was drastically different. He shouldn’t act like Maya was already gone.

But he just couldn’t help it. Every sign of his mother’s aging made him deeply melancholic.

This inexplicable emotion made An An extremely irritable. He only calmed down after catching two prey in a row.

On the way back, he kept thinking about why he felt this way.

But perhaps because in this world, as a beastman, his thoughts were simpler, he couldn’t figure it out.

As the familiar cave appeared in his vision, An An quickened his pace slightly.

Outside the cave, a wild deer that Gairo had caught was lying there. Though Gairo rarely spoke about how much he cared for An An and Tuntun, he always remembered the things they said.

For example, Tuntun loved deer meat, and there was a time when he nearly ate so much he threw up.

Just as An An was about to drop his prey and check on his mother, he noticed that the atmosphere inside the cave was off.

Maya and Gairo did not look happy, and the ears of the little lion, Tuntun, trembled slightly with unease as he was surrounded by them.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

An An moved closer to take a look. Gairo, so frustrated that he exhaled sharply through his nose, turned and walked out. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to resist giving Tuntun’s backside a hard kick with his paw.

With the space cleared, An An squeezed in. Behind Tuntun’s not-so-strong body was a beastman cub that hadn’t even fully grown its fur yet, its skin still a soft pink.