This is a city with a building that resembles bamboo and is extremely tall. On the streets of the city, Traditional Chinese signs are everywhere. A boy is holding a phone, looking around, thinking about where his destination is. It seems like it’s the next street, then a left turn. "Don’t," I muttered. The boy looked at the map on his phone, walked to the next street, and turned left. Finally, he saw the sign of the store he was looking for. "Turn back now," I shouted anxiously. The boy walked into that store. "Don’t go in aaaaah!" I roared. In the darkness, I heard the sound of an alarm clock. By the faint light coming through the curtain, I reached for the alarm clock and turned it off. I opened the curtain, and what entered my eyes was the city I was familiar with—the residential area of North Forest City, a suburb of the capital city Cabital. The detached houses were neatly arranged on the ground. I opened the wardrobe, put on my underwear, then put on a shirt and my school uniform. I picked up the tricorne hanging there and opened the room door. A burnt smell hit me, like the smell of someone burning inside an armored vehicle. No, I told myself, it’s just a burnt smell. I walked through the hallway outside the room to the staircase at the end and went downstairs. I saw Ms. Rice—my nominal mother—anxiously dealing with some burned pancakes. "Sorry, Ash. I burned breakfast for you and Lyka," she said to me. "It’s okay," I said. "It’s too late to make more. You and Lyka should eat outside." "Alright," I replied. Lyka came down the stairs. He is my younger brother, though we are not biologically related. He is twelve years old and a seventh grader in the nine-year elementary system. Ms. Rice told Lyka the same thing. Lyka seemed a bit happy, as he preferred eating outside. "What about Big Wolf Brother? Is he coming too?" Lyka said. Ms. Rice looked at me and said, "Your brother’s school is in a different direction, so he can’t go with you." Lyka replied, "Okay." Lyka, already dressed, said goodbye to Mother and me, and got into a black sedan with Mr. Mueller, the driver. This family is fairly well-off, so Mr. Mueller was hired as both a chauffeur and housekeeper. But I couldn’t get used to a life of being served, and since Lyka’s school is in a different direction, I usually take the metro to North Forest Secondary, located in the city center. As for Mr. Rice, my nominal father, he usually leaves very early, so I don’t often see him in the morning. He is a congressman in the central government and the only son of our country’s wealthy businessman, Fox Rice. I said goodbye to Ms. Rice and headed for the station. This area is called Maple District, an outer suburb of North Forest City. Today is a special day because it’s my first day attending North Forest Secondary. I haven’t been a student in years. I hope I can get along with those 15-year-olds. But I look like I’m 15, so I should be able to blend in easily. I arrived at the metro station, took the escalator down, tapped through the gate with an electronic ticket, and stood on the platform. A light began approaching from the dark tunnel. It’s like when an enemy tank turns on its headlights and then mows down my comrades beside me with heavy machine guns... I covered my face with my hand, trying not to think in that direction, and looked at the metro pulling into the station, stopping, and opening its doors. I entered the not-yet-crowded carriage. Since this train hadn’t passed many stations, there weren’t many passengers yet. I quickly found a seat and sat down. After a few stops, people began crowding into the carriage. When the train reached North Forest Central Park Station, I got off, squeezing out from the crowd. I left the platform, passed through the gate, went through the lobby, and exited the station. My school was right next to the central park, and many students in the same uniform as mine were heading toward the school gate. According to the orientation schedule previously issued, I went to the auditorium, found my class’s seating area, and picked a seat. Since today is Sunday, there would be no classes after the ceremony. In this country, important ceremonies are usually held on holidays to avoid affecting weekday work. Lyka’s school does the same, so he had class today as well. It seemed like my classmates weren’t all here yet—after all, there were still thirty minutes before the ceremony started. I arrived too early. At that moment, someone sat down next to me. It was a boy in the same uniform, with reddish-brown hair and blue eyes. He smiled at me and said, "Looks like someone else got here too early like me." His expression was slightly stiff, and the line was a bit awkward. He probably forced himself to say it to start a conversation. I smiled slightly and replied, "At least we won’t be late this way." Then we both fell silent. Maybe this was better, because my ideal school life was to keep my distance from others and avoid forming deep relationships. My physical condition is a bit... special, and this would help me avoid unnecessary attention. "My name is Mikhail Ulyanov," the boy said. "Hello, Ulyanov. I’m Ash Rice," I replied. "Do you live in Cabital? I live in Zelkova District, North Forest City," Mikhail said. "I also live in North Forest City. I live in Maple District," I answered. "That upscale neighborhood?" Mikhail said in surprise. "Yeah," I said with a bitter smile. Then someone caught both mine and Ulyanov’s attention—it was a person in a nearby class seat area, with a wolf’s head and fur. "Wow, a Wolfkin," Mikhail whispered. "Mm," I replied briefly. Wolfkin are a humanoid race that look like wolves, possessing the same intelligence and personality as humans, and are slightly larger than ordinary people. I felt indifferent about their presence, because I used to interact with them frequently—and also saw their heads smashed, limbs torn, intestines exposed through gashes... I can’t keep thinking like that. "You seem pretty used to seeing Wolfkin," Mikhail said. "I used to see them often," I replied. "You don’t see many Wolfkin domestically. Did you live abroad before, Rice?" Mikhail asked. "Uh... yeah," I answered. "Where?" he asked again. I felt a bit troubled. I didn’t really want to talk about my past. "Not important," I replied casually. Mikhail seemed to sense my reluctance and didn’t ask further. The silence returned. After a while, the ceremony began. Everyone stood up at the host’s direction and sang the national anthem. This scene felt like a military parade—the soldiers were like puppets, only able to act on command, even when ordered to die... I didn’t want to think anymore. I shouldn’t keep thinking like this. After a series of long speeches from school staff, the ceremony ended with the host leading everyone in singing the school anthem. I quickly left the venue to avoid interactions with classmates. I wasn’t being antisocial—I just didn’t want to get too close to anyone and risk revealing myself. I took the metro back to Maple District. Ms. Rice was surprised that I came home so early. "Why are you back so soon? Not hanging out with classmates?" Ms. Rice asked. "It’s nothing. I was just tired and wanted to come back early," I replied. I climbed the stairs, walked down the hallway, and returned to my room. I started studying and searched online for various information, hoping to quickly understand the society I was now in. I stayed in my room until evening, then went to the bathroom to shower. While showering, I dazed out. The pine tree-shaped mark on my chest was rinsed by water. Not long after, I returned to my room with a towel wrapped around me. Night fell. The moon rose. This meant the hidden side of me would uncontrollably emerge. My body began to swell, wolf fur replaced my human skin, my head slowly deformed and elongated, and my ears moved to the top of my head. Every week on the last day, this transformation was always uncontrollable. Because—I am a werewolf. This current life is not my original life. It can be called a new life regained. My past life was filled with blood and slaughter. But in the end, that past life wasn’t truly my original life either. Everything—was to blame on the ignorant, deceived me from a few years ago.

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