I’m Telling You, I’m Not the Boss Monster!

The Beast Shop was massive for a reason.
As I ventured deeper inside, I found countless iron cages large enough to house entire buildings.

Twin-headed ogres, Dokkaebi, gargoyles, Jackalopes, Eoduksini, chupacabras, and wyverns filled the rows of cages.
A giant aquarium displayed sea monsters like a miniature Leviathan and Kraken—clearly artificial subspecies, as they were smaller than the real deal. Even so, these “miniatures” exceeded 10 meters in length.

There was an absurd variety of monsters, but not a single unicorn in sight. Truly disappointing.

"Call me if you need anything explained," said the shopkeeper, lazily wiping his monocle with a piece of cloth.

He didn’t bother paying me any attention, which suited me perfectly.
Ever since that one incident in Dongdaemun where I got hounded by overenthusiastic sales staff, I’d developed a trauma.
Whether it was pushy sales tactics or overzealous customer service, I preferred to shop without interference.

I wandered leisurely through the cages, examining the beasts one by one.

-Beep!

[Lv. 51]

The first creature that caught my eye was a Jackalope, a rabbit with antlers.
Despite its monstrous level, it looked like a regular, adorable rabbit.
It wasn’t exactly suited for dungeon combat, but I couldn’t help but want to keep it as a pet.
Cute and weak—that was the ideal balance for me. At Level 51, I could easily keep it under control.

"Shopkeeper, how much for the Jackalope?"
"A solid 1.1 million cells."

Was he trying to rip me off?
Even if I bargained, the price wouldn’t drop below a million. Buying a pet for that price was out of the question. Next.

[Lv. 56]

The next monster resembled a slender, shadowy figure—something like Slenderman.
It was an Eoduksini, a monster that thrived in darkness and perfectly suited for labyrinth dungeons.

"How much for the Eoduksini?"
"800,000. It’s tough to handle, though."

800,000 cells was a decent price.
Still, given its difficulty, I decided to put it on hold for now.

I continued window-shopping while using my evolution skill to test the beasts’ potential.

[The target meets only 0/3 conditions.]
[The target meets only 0/3 conditions.]

Despite the shop's excellent care for its beasts, none of them showed potential.
If the alert showed even 1/3 conditions met, it would indicate latent potential, but there wasn’t a single promising beast here.

‘What a letdown.’

I suppose my disappointment was proportional to my expectations.
This was the norm, but I couldn’t help feeling I’d overhyped the experience.

"Shopkeeper, how are the beasts transported after purchase?"
"To a dungeon or a private estate?"
"Why a private estate?"
"Some nobles buy beasts as luxury pets. If it’s a dungeon, we can transport it directly via the merchant guild’s portal. For estates, they have to handle it themselves."

So, this beast shop was a subcontractor of the merchant guild. No surprise there.
The merchant guild offered their dungeon clients various benefits, including transportation.

As I debated whether to purchase the Eoduksini, my gaze was drawn to a large room at the back.
It didn’t look like a storage area.

"What’s that room?"
The shopkeeper snorted and shrugged.

"Why ask? Nothing good in there."
"I want to know."
"It’s a slaughterhouse. The beasts that don’t sell or cause trouble get sent there. Beast carcasses still fetch a price. Some are slaughtered for attacking or killing their owners."

Slaughter, not euthanasia.
It wasn’t surprising, given the medieval setting. Even in the Empire, euthanasia wasn’t a thing.

‘Should I buy a carcass?’

It wasn’t exactly an appealing idea, but if Charlotte could reanimate it as an undead, it might be worth it.
Carcasses were cheap—or sometimes free—and compact, powerful ones would be especially useful.

"May I enter?"
"The slaughterhouse? You’re not squeamish, are you? Or are you a necromancer?"
"If I were both?"
"Well, that makes things easier! I was wondering how to offload some of them."

The shopkeeper, clearly thrilled, granted permission and eagerly led the way.

The moment the door opened, the stench of blood and rot hit me.
As an undead, I lacked taste buds but unfortunately retained my sense of smell—an awful combination.

Carcasses didn’t display levels.
I had to rely on the shopkeeper’s descriptions and my own judgment to evaluate them.

‘This is miserable.’

Regret washed over me like a tidal wave.
Being surrounded by dead monsters was making me feel downright morose.

As the shopkeeper rambled on about a chupacabra, I stopped listening.
My heightened visual focus dulled my hearing, and something caught my eye.

[Lv. 58]

A living beast.
It was confined in a transparent capsule, unlike the lifeless carcasses around it.

-Kiiiing....

It looked like a hellish version of a doberman—a Hellhound, an inferior variant of the Cerberus.
Among the Abyssal Lords, there was a true Cerberus as a guardian. Even as a lesser variant, this Hellhound’s Level 58 was impressive.

The capsule next to it was filled with blood—presumably the Hellhound’s.

"What’s happening with that one?"
"It’s being bled. Hellhound blood fetches a high price among vampires. That poor thing will die of blood loss soon."
"Why?"
"It bit its owner. The duke’s son. He was bedridden for ten days after that."

Sympathy stirred within me but was quickly extinguished by that last detail.
Even in the human world, a dog that bites its owner is put down. It’s harsh, but necessary.

"Look closely at its scars. The duke’s son probably abused it until it snapped. Sad, isn’t it?"
"...."

The Hellhound’s body was riddled with wounds—marks from blunt objects, whips, and blades.

-Whimper....

The Hellhound’s wet, glassy eyes locked onto mine.
It looked like it was begging for help.

"Hey! What are you doing?!"

Ignoring the shopkeeper, I opened the capsule and reached out to the Hellhound.

[Attempting to evolve the Hellhound.]
[Two conditions met. Evolution success determined by 50% chance.]

Success.

[Lv. 65]

The Hellhound had been reborn.
Panting happily, it rubbed against me like a dog reunited with its owner.

"What... how...?"

The shopkeeper gawked in disbelief.

"I’m taking it."
"You can’t! It attacked the duke’s son! It’ll attack you too!"
"I’ll handle it."

Pulling out my summons letter, I handed it to him.

The shopkeeper’s eyes widened as he read it.
By the time he finished, he was trembling.

"You’re... the new Abyssal Lord...?"

"Can I take it or not?"
"Of course, my lord! Anything else you need, just say the word!"

As I left the slaughterhouse with the Hellhound, it trotted happily at my side.

"What should I name you?"

Naming wasn’t my strong suit, but I wasn’t going to let Charlotte have a say.

"How about Hellbok?"

The Hellhound wagged its tail, its tongue lolling out in a doggy smile.

With Hellbok by my side, today felt like a good day.

***

Smack!@@novelbin@@

The thrill of naming Hellbok and the lightness in my step were extinguished in an instant.
As soon as I opened the door, I saw it—a scene that made me doubt my own eyes.

Right in the middle of the street, someone was being dragged by their hair, their cheek repeatedly slapped.
There was only one person here in Sañjīva who fit that description.

Smack! Smack!

A werewolf, whose identity I didn’t know, was relentlessly slapping Charlotte.
Stumbling under the blows, Charlotte struggled to stand upright, blood trickling from her split lips. She didn’t resist—she just stood there and took it.

‘Who the hell does that mutt think he is, laying hands on my lieutenant?’

My chest burned with something primal, a surge of fury sharper than I’d expected.
Was I more protective of Charlotte than I realized?

I didn’t stop to wonder how or why this was happening.
The only thing in my mind was raw, seething anger.

That mutt was dead.