["Hey, I've been wondering… are those damn dogs deaf?"]
As I catch my breath, leaning against the window to recover my strength, I pose the question to Louise.
It's true that the house across the street is a bit far, but we've made a fair amount of noise. And yet, the dogs down there are snoring like babies.
["They're not deaf, and they're not as dumb as you think. It's just that their intelligence worked against them."]
["Hm?"]
I look at her with a raised eyebrow. She just signals to her friends not to worry before motioning for me to follow her.
["School, my ass. This is a prison."]
It's not that I haven't been here before, but the impression is unavoidable: a long, poorly lit hallway, rooms on either side… too much like a jail.
["You wish. Prisons have fast Wi-Fi and nightclubs."]
["God bless socialism."]
As we joke, Louise leads me to the classroom window at the end of the hall. From there, you can see the school's front courtyard: dogs scattered everywhere, bones and bloodstains as makeshift decorations. Even on the court, in the warehouse, and in the cafeteria, the most prominent feature is the groups of sleeping dogs.
["They have a sentinel system."]
Louise points to the main entrance and some dogs patrolling around it.
["Those deaf sons of bitches should get a new job."]
["They're not deaf; they just stopped paying attention to us as the days went by. They assumed we couldn't get out any other way. Technically, they're not wrong: the wall around the school is too high."]
She pauses and continues in an analytical tone.
["They also have a hierarchy system."]
["No old ones or puppies,"] – I muttered after scanning the entire area with my eyes.
["You got it,"] -Louise said, tapping her own nose.
["The pregnant females and puppies are inside the buildings; the strong males sleep near the entrance; the oldest ones rest at the back, right below our window."]
["Sacrifices, maybe? Very efficient."]
["I think so. Alarms in case intruders come through the blind spots."]
["…So they are deaf, just from old age."]
["No. They enter a deep sleep to maximize their rest. Did you hear them howling before? They do it every so often to signal that everything is okay."]
["I thought they just did it to be annoying."]
["That's also a possibility… But once, a few days ago, there were intruders nearby during the night. I'm not sure because it was far away, but it looked like some kind of giant bear with fire on its limbs… A single howl was enough for the whole pack to get moving. It happened two nights ago, and—hey!"]
In the middle of her explanation, I drag her against the wall. At that exact moment, the wolf in front of the gate turns its head in our direction.
["If you stare too long, you give yourself away."]
["Their instinct is very sharp…"]
["Let's get out of this damn place. We'll update the journal later."]
["Yeah."]
Fourth transport…
["I'm sorry."]
Louise says it, clinging to me. Ever since she hung from my neck to cross, she hasn't lifted her head from my chest.
["What are you apologizing for now?"]
["Well… my boobs aren't as big as the delinquent's."]
["You don't have anything called boobs in the first place. Ouch, ouch—"]
["Did you say something?"]
["Noooothing…"]
She trembles slightly, her eyes always closed.
["Why did you talk like you didn't know me at first?"]
["How long has it been? Two years? Do you really think you're worthy of being remembered by the great Me?"]
["It was because I let my hair grow out, right? The new look."]
["Yeah… You went from an intellectual girl with a bob cut to a cheap magazine 'gal'. It's not the Rat Kid's fault… besides, I couldn't see your cute ass. How was I supposed to recognize you like that?"]
["Don't associate people's identities with sexual attributes."]
["The Rat Kid does whatever he wants."]
["…You didn't come back for a year. Did breaking up with the goody-two-shoes affect you that much?"]
["How do you know that? More importantly: what are you doing at my school? Did you transfer?"]
["Don't dodge the question."]
Louise lightly pinches my chest. Isn't this vixen afraid of falling to her death?
["The Rat Kid doesn't dodge anything; it's genuine curiosity. Besides, the goody-two-shoes was the one who forced me to go to class. If someone had woken me up, I would have been back in a month."]
["So it took you a month to get over her?"]
["It took me a month to recover from my injuries."]
["So you haven't forgotten her."]
["I don't see anyone trying to take her place."]
["A man who can't get over his ex is pathetic."]
["A woman who doesn't take her opportunities is pathetic too."]
["Ara… you're both so sad."]
The voice of the busty gymnast cuts through the tension. Louise flinches against my chest.
["…Are we there yet?"]
It's normal she didn't notice: her eyes are still closed.
["You arrived just as you were asking about the goody-two-shoes, you know."]
Slap.
A slap. The first one I've received in a long time.
And I don't regret a thing.
After all, being alive means you can still get a good slap.
---------------------------
(Note: The following monster profile is a version from this chapter and may differ from updated entries.)
JOURNAL ENTRY NO: 112
SCIENTIFIC NAME: Ursus incendiarius
REGIONAL ALIASES:
Latin America (Forested Areas): El Chamuscador (The Scorcher)
North America (National Parks): Smokey's Revenge
Ranger Nickname: The Incinerator Teddy Bear
NICKNAME (ASTRAD): Winnie the Pooh with Napalm
📊 THREAT ASSESSMENT
CLASSIFICATION: ELEMENTALIS / TERRITORIALIS
Its nature is that of an elemental incarnation, a being of pure fire in the shape of a bear. Its conduct, however, is that of a guardian. It doesn't wander aimlessly; it protects its burning forest with absolute fury, uniting its essence of natural force with an unbreakable instinct of ownership.
DANGER LEVEL: Orange (4 stars)
The bear is already ugly, but fire burns. The 500-hectare forest fire it leaves as a tip is the real danger. Fighting it is a race against time: either you neutralize it quickly, or you die suffocated by the smoke of your own funeral.
AGGRESSIVENESS LEVEL: REACTIVE
Surprisingly calm for a bonfire with claws. It won't actively seek you out, but if you invade its forest (especially if it's dry), it will take it as a personal offense. It will give you a warning, a growl that sounds like crackling firewood. Ignore it, and it will 'heat up' very literally.
🧬 COMBAT FILE (TL;DR)
TYPE: Beast / Spectral
AFFINITY: Fire
🎯 PRIMARY WEAKNESSES:
Massive amounts of water (rivers, lakes, floods), Suffocation (lack of oxygen), Extreme cold.
📌 KEY STRENGTHS:
Spontaneous fire generation, Total immunity to fire and heat, Area-of-effect combat (environmental fire).
📚 ORIGINS AND COMPARATIVE MYTHOLOGY
American Folklore: It's the homicidal and literal version of Smokey Bear. Instead of preventing fires, it starts them as a method of purging. Maybe it got tired of people leaving campfires improperly extinguished.
Shamanic Beliefs: Some link it to great guardian spirits of the taiga, deformed and driven mad by massive logging and man-made fires. It is the forest's revenge made flesh and embers.
Greek Mythology: It shares traits with the Hydra: for every tree you put out, it sets two more on fire in its place. Don't cut off its head; you'll only make things worse.
Astrad's Analysis: Spirits of burnt bears? The wrath of the mountain? A bear that got too close to a gas leak with a cigarette? The theory that someone stole its honey is still my favorite. It shows that even the smallest crime can have catastrophic consequences.
📝 DETAILED ANALYSIS
PHYSICAL AND SENSORY DESCRIPTION:
A beast of colossal proportions, exceeding 3 meters when it stands erect. Its dark, thick fur doesn't burn with a constant flame but smolders slowly, like the living embers of a great fire, releasing small sparks and waves of intense heat. Its eyes glow like red-hot coals, and its breath is a blast of dense smoke and scorching air. Its roar is not that of a normal bear; it sounds like the groaning of large logs breaking in a bonfire. Each footstep leaves a smoldering print, and its presence is accompanied by a penetrating smell of burnt pine and roasted meat.
BEHAVIOR AND ECOLOGY:
It's a solitary creature that prefers dense and, paradoxically, dry forests. It spends long periods in a state of hibernation under mounds of ash, often in the heart of a fire it started itself. It is not an active hunter. Its primary method of defense and interaction with the environment is fire. When threatened, its fur turns from embers to living flames. It can exhale a cloud of heat to deter intruders or, in a more aggressive act, scratch against a tree to use it like a match, starting a new fire. It feeds omnivorously but shows a clear preference for the meat of animals that have perished in the fires it creates.
☣️ PROTOCOLS
RECOMMENDED ENCOUNTER PROTOCOL:
DO:
Flee towards a large body of water (a river, a lake).
Move against the wind to avoid the smoke.
If combat is unavoidable, seek damp ground or caves with no air outlet.
DON'T:
Try to put it out with a hand-held fire extinguisher (you'll just piss it off).
Hide in dry underbrush.
Climb a tree (you're asking to be barbecued).
FIELD REPORT (Fragment from a park ranger's recorder, El Ávila National Park):
"...We saw it standing among the pines, and at first, I thought it was just smoke from the fire reported to the north. Then the smoke opened its eyes and roared. The guide, a guy named Arnaldo, yelled for us to run to the river. The guide was also on fire when he said it. I didn't look back."
🎤 ASTRAD'S NOTES (THE ONLY SHIT THAT MATTERS):
A bear that sets itself on fire? Great. As if they weren't dangerous enough when they're in a good mood. This is basically Winnie the Pooh after discovering the napalm and deciding he's sick of people stealing his fucking honey. It's the pyromaniacs' mascot.
The worst part isn't the claws the size of a butcher knife. The worst part isn't the breath that melts your eyelashes. The worst part is that this asshole doesn't even need to kill you. It scratches its back on a pine tree, sits back to watch the show, and you die charred two kilometers away. Fight the bear, lose to the environment. A hell of a marketing plan.
Pro tip: if you see a flaming bear, it's not a special effect from a movie; it's your cue to start looking for the largest body of water that exists. And if there isn't one nearby, well, start running and pray the wind changes direction. Though let's be honest, in this world, the wind always blows against you.
---------------------------
📡 Rat Kid Network — Parallel Anecdote
RatKid7: Hey, I found a pretty brutal video of a "roaster bear." A three-meter tall barbecue grill with legs. Sending the link.
RatKid2: LOL, you sure you didn't see wrong? Maybe a hippie camp?
RatKid7: I wish. The bastard literally set itself on fire. Every stride was like throwing a can of gasoline.
RatKid4: What the fuck? A monster fight? Are we in Pokémon?
RatKid7: I think they were the number 14s. What were they called? "Lupus brunneis." As soon as the bear scratched against a tree, the bastards howled and surrounded it in less than a minute.
RatKid8: LOL, are you telling me the flamethrower bear lost to a group of street dogs?
RatKid7: Something like that, watch the damn video. The bites weren't killing it, but they were constantly weakening and wounding it. The fire didn't scare the wolves one bit. In the end, it was a draw: scorched wolves, a badly wounded bear, and the bear just left.
RatKid2: Those aren't wolves, they're suicidal firefighters.
RatKid3: Marvelous. Means if I see one, I'm hopping on the first dog I find and using it as a fireproof mount.
RatKid4: So the wolves are raid boss level, right?
RatKid7: Bro, if the fire bear is an "Orange 4-star," those wolves together aren't far behind.
RatKid2: Let's update the journal. I get why Leader put it at Yellow 2-stars, a single wolf doesn't seem that big…
RatKid4: But look at the bone structure. That bulk isn't normal; they look like tanks with fur.
RatKid3: Yeah, plus, they show great tactical ability. That's not low intelligence.
RatKid2: Yellow 4-stars solo, Orange 4-stars in a pack?
RatKid3: Even higher, depending on the size of the pack.
RatKid8: Sounds good to me.
RatKid4: Same here.
RatKid7: Approved.
RatKid2: That reminds me, wasn't number 5 trapped with those wolves?
RatKid3: …Should we look for a new leader?
RatKid8: No other choice.
RatKid7: It's about time.
RatKid4: AHAHAHA.
RatKid3: AHAHAHA.
RatKid2: Hey, stop that. If the little sister reads this, she'll get upset.
RatKid3: Sorry, sorry. Anyway, I don't think anything will happen. A bad weed never dies.
RatKid4: True that.
RatKid8: I love this apocalypse: first zombies, now self-igniting bears. What's next? An electric shark in the public pool?
RatKid2: Shut up, don't give the scriptwriter any ideas.
RatKid7: Too late. If an electric shark shows up, I'm adopting it.