The Wolf is Coming Ch. 11

Prev | Directory | Next

When a subtle metal collision sound came from next door, Lupin woke up almost immediately. He took out an old pocket watch from under his pillow and looked at it in the dim light outside the window— it was five quarters, as expected, it was this time again.

Lupin put down the pocket watch, rubbed his face with his hand, then put on his robe and sat up from the bed.

There was a calendar on the low cabinet at the head of the bed. Twenty-two numbers of the date of this month had been crossed out with black ink. Lupin took out a pen and crossed out the next twenty-third— this was his twenty-third day in Wilvo.

What could be done in twenty-three days? For Lupin, the answer was to barely adapt to Wilvo's diet of various meats, personally understand the violent aesthetics of this village, and form a conditioned reflex to his new neighbor's unshakable fishing behavior every morning; Merlin, under the condition of high mental tension, this was simply a more effective way to wake up than magic!

Lupin's new residence was located in a remote area. His neighbors used to live on the outskirts of Wilvo, but after he moved here, he became the person farthest from the center of the village. Through the window of his new residence, he could see the river on the edge of Wilvo. Just like now, he didn't even need to stick his whole body to the window to see his new neighbor fishing there; maybe he was just holding the fishing rod and staring blankly?

Lupin, who was completely sleepless, came to the window with a cup of warm coffee. The rising mist made the thin back not far away look a little blurry and distorted.

He felt that Abraham Cromwell was a strange and secretive guy. He was obviously gentle and could even be called gentle among werewolves, but he never had any friends or family to interact with. He was like an invisible person living in Wilvo.

Oh, it might not be appropriate to say this. There was still someone in Wilvo who would talk to him— yes, there was only one person, the daughter of the tavern owner, whose name seemed to be... Daisy?

Whenever Abraham's tin bucket was full of fish, the little girl named Daisy would come here across most of Wilvo and buy all the fish. The dried fish snacks in the tavern probably came from this. The little girl would occasionally bring some other food to the thin young man; a piece of delicious braised beef or tender lamb legs. Apart from this, Lupin had never seen his new neighbor have any contact with other werewolves, and his daily life was terribly monotonous.

In short, after this period of contact, Lupin labeled this pure-blooded werewolf named Abraham Cromwell as "contactable" in his heart.

Unknowingly, it was bright outside the window. The coffee in his hand had lost its heat. Lupin lowered his head and took a sip, and the bitter taste immediately swept through his entire mouth.

Just at this moment, Abraham turned his head and looked at Lupin, his champagne eyes met his brown eyes, and after a slight pause, he smiled at Lupin as a greeting.

So Lupin smiled and raised the coffee cup in his hand to Abraham— since he confirmed that he was a person he could contact, he should fulfill his invitation for a cup of coffee.

Accompanied by the subtle sound of the stoneware cup bottom colliding with the wooden tabletop, a cup of coffee with a rich aroma was placed in front of Abraham. He thought that Lupin's invitation when they first met was just a polite remark, but he didn't expect that he really fulfilled the cup of coffee.

Abraham took a sip of the cup and showed a satisfied look, "I haven't had this kind of pure coffee in Wilvo for a long time, and Mr. Howell's coffee-brewing skills are also great."

Just wave the wand and the coffee would be brewed automatically. To be fair, this was really not a skill. So Lupin could only quickly skip the topic, "It's just some tricks. However, werewolves who like coffee seem to be rare. You know, I haven't seen a coffee shop here. I brought these coffee beans from outside of Wilvo."

"Because the leader believes that alcohol and blood are the most exciting things for werewolves." Abraham explained lightly.

"Fenrir Greyback." Lupin tightly grasped the cup and muttered the name of the werewolf who tore his life into a gray.

From the moment Lupin was transformed into a werewolf, this name became a nightmare throughout his childhood. He didn't know whether it was out of excitement or fear, he could clearly feel that under his wide robe, his muscles were trembling.

The two of them each held a cup of coffee and chatted for a while, from the customs and habits of Wilvo to the big and small anecdotes of the wizarding society. At the end, Lupin seemed to inadvertently ask Abraham about the werewolf leader, Fenrir Greyback.

"It's been almost a month since I moved to Wilvo. I don't think I've met the chief yet." When he said this, Lupin subconsciously held his breath, fearing that he might mishear a word.

All credit goes to the original author
Feel free to pinpoint us if there are any grammar error or typos
Please don't use Guazi's translation to re-translate in other languages

Prev | Directory | Next