The Wolf Girl's Secret Box

Chapter6

While the fan club members were carrying out their harassment plan against Olivette, Edren was completely swamped with work.

His practice schedule was now dominated by the guitar.

The school had recently approved a student-initiated application to form a rock band, granting it a trial run for one semester. As a condition for renting the music classroom, the band was required to participate in the school-wide performance competition at the end of the semester and actually place in the rankings. Failing to do so would mean the band faced the harsh reality of being disbanded at the start of the next semester.

This was initially none of Edren’s business, but unfortunately, the band’s main organizer, Bert, a tenth-grade senior, happened to be his good friend.

To boost popularity and guarantee a top spot, Bert concocted a terrible idea. And the person tasked with executing this terrible idea was Edren.

“For our rock ‘n’ roll dreams, Edren, you bear a heavy responsibility,” Bert said solemnly, patting Edren's shoulder as he entrusted him with the task. “On competition day, all you need to do is strut around with an electric guitar, use every trick in the book to grab the girls' attention, and win their votes at any cost. Leave the rest to us.”

“But I can't play guitar,” Edren muttered, holding the instrument Bert handed him with mixed feelings. He still couldn't fathom why he’d been dragged into this charade. “I’ll definitely mess it up.”

“Don't worry. Just do what you always do. The band members' skills are solid—this is just extra insurance. No need to stress,” Bert reassured him, smug with his own ingenuity. “You can strum away on stage without worrying about being off-key. We've all agreed—once you're up there, we won’t plug in your electric guitar. Not a single note will slip through. Plus, we've specifically added another guitarist to the band.”

Bert spread his hands, one palm facing the real guitarist, the other toward Edren. “See? You each have your role. He plays. You look cool.”

The real guitarist flashed him a grin, revealing a tooth adorned with intricate designs.

“...”

Such blatant cheating left Edren no room to refuse. And just like that, he inexplicably became a member of the rock band—a guitarist.

“Hang in there, Edren,” Bert gave him one last pep talk. “Just two months. Once this semester ends, you're free.”

Let's hope so. Edren's fingers pressed against the electric guitar strings, lightly brushing them. He didn't know what to say.

So, alongside his daily soccer team training, he now had a new group activity—rehearsals. Because of this, he pushed his (one-sided) grudge against Olivette to the back of his mind and focused on dealing with the troublesome senior. As for the efforts his fan club made to vent his frustration, sadly, he didn’t notice any of it.

Most rehearsals took place after soccer practice, meaning Edren would miss the last bus home. Fortunately, after getting his driver's license, Fermoson no longer restricted him, allowing him to drive the family's beat-up Jeep to and from school.

Even though his duties didn’t include playing guitar, he was still forced to stay late with the band members, practicing diligently.

On Friday night, after band practice wrapped up and they packed up their gear, the rock band members jostled each other as they headed to the parking lot to retrieve their cars. Edren trailed behind the group to his beat-up Jeep. He felt inside his jacket pocket—empty. He checked his pants pocket—also empty. He seemed to have left his keys in the music classroom.

“s**t, go ahead without me. I gotta go back for the keys,” Edren muttered under his breath. After exchanging farewells with Bert and the others, he turned and headed back toward the classroom.

The campus was eerily quiet. Edren paced alone in the corridor, his footsteps echoing hollowly through the empty hallway, more unsettling than usual. After retrieving his keys, he walked across the playground and glanced up at the sky without thinking.

The moon was large and full, hanging high in the night sky. Moonlight spilled down, seeming to coat everything in a layer of silvery light.

Edren had never seen such a beautiful moon. He opened the car door, inserted the key, turned it gently, and started the engine. The moonlit night was so lovely he couldn't help but hum a tune: “Whoa, I'm driving alone, but don't, don't turn on the radio to listen to songs, because some lyrics can hurt.”

The road home wasn't pitch-black, but only the moon's soft glow illuminated the way. Last night, most of the streetlights had been deliberately smashed, and the repair crew hadn't arrived yet. The few remaining lights flickered erratically, their voltage unstable.

Edren wasn't easily scared. In dare games, he always lasted until the end. But that was with a group of people. Now he was alone.

On nights like this, he always felt something terrifying might happen. His imagination ran wild, conjuring up horrifying scenarios—him alone on the road, the silence thick around him. His eyes fixed ahead, his thoughts drifting elsewhere, when suddenly someone appeared in the middle of the road, thumb out, hitchhiking. He slammed on the brakes, the car grinding to a halt, but no one was there. Terrified, he jumped out to investigate. Finding no one lying in a pool of blood as he’d imagined, he exhaled in relief and turned to get back in...

Before he could even picture what he might see upon turning, the headlights suddenly illuminated a large wolfhound darting from the roadside nearby. It paused briefly in the middle of the road, and immediately, a large pack of its kind emerged behind it, crossing the highway.

Edren watched them run out of the town toward the forest beyond. He couldn't understand when the town had acquired so many wolfhounds, and he was even more puzzled as to why they were leaving the town so late at night.

Before reaching the pack, Edren slowly applied the brakes, letting them pass first. The battered Jeep came to a halt just a few meters from the dogs. This short distance gave Edren a clear view of the creatures before him. They weren't wolfdogs at all—they were true wolves!

Clearly, the local wildlife conservation efforts were highly effective. The pack showed no fear or hostility toward the metal box parked nearby. Most kept their heads down, focused on their path, with only a few casting hurried glances in Edren’s direction. This attention lasted only a moment, but it was enough for Edren to see their eyes.

Reflected in the headlights, those cold eyes glowed with an eerie, firefly-green light. The sensation of that emotionless gaze upon him sent an indescribable shiver rising from the base of his spine—a shiver mingled with humanity’s innate fear and reverence for powerful creatures. This was something one could never feel from ordinary wolfdogs.

Such emotions were overwhelmingly vivid. Especially for a sixteen-year-old like Edren, defenseless and alone. He gripped the steering wheel unconsciously, hearing his heartbeat suddenly accelerate. He scanned the windows—front and rear, tightly sealed—finding a sliver of psychological reassurance, though he knew this organic, non-metallic material would offer little defense if truly attacked.

Fortunately, the pack showed little interest in him. They didn't even bother to pause, not a single one stopping to observe him. Except for one.

That one blended into the pack, moving forward with them. Its darker fur and smaller build made it nearly invisible to Edren. But when Edren's gaze accidentally met its own, he could feel its stare, fixed on him for far longer than a moment.

Upon catching Edren's gaze, it even slowed its pace, falling to the rear of the pack. Instinct told him never to lock eyes with a wolf, but Edren couldn't pull his eyes away. For a fleeting instant, his mind went blank, as if trapped within that circle of emerald green.

Fortunately, the stare didn't last long. A larger wolf ahead stopped and let out a low growl, as if urging it on. Only then did it break into a run to catch up.

The pack soon vanished into the night. It took Edren a long moment to steady his gaze before starting the car, his heart still pounding. He touched his back—it was soaked through with cold sweat.

Much later, he faintly heard the intermittent howls of wolves echoing from deep within the forest, as if performing some grand ritual. Yet, upon straining to listen again, he heard nothing at all.

By now, he was back home, having taken a hot shower and lying on his comfortable, soft bed. The freshly sun-dried quilts carried the gentle scent of sunshine, relaxing Edren from the inside out. Now, he finally had the energy to recall every detail of that chance encounter an hour ago. The memory still made Edren feel a bit uneasy, but more than that, there was an unshakable sense of strangeness lingering in his mind. It felt like he'd overlooked some crucial detail, yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall it.

His thoughts drifted to other matters—like the wolf's special status in Xiba Town. Perhaps it wasn't truly a matter of debate. Within the town's traditional culture, the wolf was a sacred being, revered as the guardian spirit of the settlement. Ancestors had adorned it with countless praises, even composing poems in its honor.

This reverence manifested everywhere: a simple wolf-head emblem adorned prominent spots on the town library, schools, and any building of some age. A wolf sculpture even stood at the entrance of the town police station. It had become a defining feature of Xiba Town, once boosting local tourism.

From a very young age, Edren heard countless legends about the wolf. The town's adults particularly enjoyed using these tales as bedtime stories for children, a practice that seemed to have become a local tradition.

As Edren grew older and developed a passion for reading, curiosity led him to borrow related books from the library. He devoured them all in a single afternoon. His conclusion? Overall, it was just a clichéd tale of a guardian deity saving humanity.

Xiba Town had once been a thriving place. No doubt about it—situated at the fork of a major north-south transportation artery, its prime location had made it bustling for a time. However, due to certain unspeakable reasons, the traffic route was diverted, causing the town to gradually decline and fade from memory. Yet this did not halt its ongoing development. For instance, after centuries of evolution, Xiba Town has now become a proper modern small city.

The tale of the Wolf God unfolded centuries ago, during the final stages of the town's persistent decline.