Chapter 5: The Little Fox Girl

When Marlon saw the Minotaur boy Ester again, he was astonished to see that the Saber-Toothed Leopard Type III steam locomotive, which had long since broken down and lain dormant, was once again roaring to life under Ester’s control.

But Marlon didn’t think it was Ester who had breathed new life into the locomotive, because from a distance he could see, near the side of the engine where the charging magic crystal was installed, a figure crouched there wearing a half-new, half-worn Loring National Defense Army assault jacket—no epaulets, no military cap—just… well… a fox-beastman uncle with hands covered in oil.

Okay, calling him a “fox-beastman uncle” was just Marlon’s subconscious, Sinocentric reaction. In reality, he was simply a fox-beastman adult with a pair of fiery-red, plush fox ears atop his head.

Of course, it wasn’t the fox ears that drew Marlon’s gaze the most. Standing behind this red-eared fox-beastman was a little girl, no older than ten, with irresistibly cute sapphire-blue fox ears and soft, flowing hair—a face sculpted as delicately as a masterpiece… a little fox-loli.

At that moment, she peeked out cautiously from behind the fox-beastman, observing the Saber-Toothed Leopard locomotive that continuously puffed white steam.

There was no doubt—they were a fox-beastman father and daughter, even if their hair and ear colors were completely different.

Thinking this to himself, Marlon quickened his pace.

“Ester, I’m back!”

From afar, he called out to the Minotaur boy atop the steam locomotive.

Marlon’s greeting drew Ester’s gaze—and also shifted the attention of the oil-stained fox-beastman uncle and the adorable little fox-girl onto him.

So, Marlon smiled and nodded politely to the fox-beastman uncle and the little fox-girl, neither of whom he yet knew by name.

Ester scanned Marlon up and down, then promptly leaped off the locomotive and ran to his side, pounding his shoulder vigorously. “Brother, don’t be upset! That Ivna is just blind to talent! Darn it, all talk and no substance!”

  “Pff—pff—” Mistaking his good friend Marlon’s trip to the Emerald Crest Publishing House for failure as well, Ester let out two frustrated, nostril-flaring snorts unique to Minotaurs, before continuing: “Pff—this isn’t a war anymore! It’s no big deal that she didn’t publish it. We’ve got other ways to earn a living. Brother, my father’s factory needs an accountant. Thirty Lants a month… with room and board included. In fact, I already spoke with him last night—if you want, you can start tomorrow!”

Seeing the Minotaur boy’s face full of righteous indignation, Marlon, though no longer quite the original Marlon Lister , still felt a surge of gratitude.

“Ester, I appreciate your kindness, thank you! But…” Marlon first expressed his gratitude, then shifted his tone: “You’ve misunderstood Miss Ivna. She didn’t reject my submission—she already signed a preliminary publishing contract with me.”

“Ah-ha?!”

Ester’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Brother, you’re not joking? You weren’t tricked by that red-haired woman, were you?”

He had every reason to doubt; Marlon’s round trip had been too short—how could a contract have been finalized in such a brief span?

But in the next moment, Marlon produced the preliminary publishing contract for The Little Prince, proving to Ester that he was neither lying nor being deceived.

“All right, Ester. We’ll talk about the publishing matter later. But shouldn’t you introduce me now?”

Marlon tucked away the contract and smiled, nudging toward the fox-beastman uncle and the little fox-girl standing by the steam locomotive.

“What? Ah—” Ester swiveled his head, his half-foot-long curved horns wobbling, a bit embarrassed, as he faced the oil-streaked fox-beastman uncle. “Forgive me, Mr. Bernard, I was rude. Allow me to introduce properly—Mr. Bernard Yebler, from Ruwa State, helped me fix this blasted engine! And this is my good friend and brother, Marlon Lister.”

“And my most cherished little treasure, Amy–Yebler.” The fox-beastman uncle, who had been crouching over the engine, finally straightened, glancing at the perfectly sculpted little fox-girl behind him.

“Amy… in the beast language, it means ‘blue iris,’ right? Such a lovely name.”

Marlon complimented her.

The blue-haired, blue-eared little fox-girl Amy squinted her sparkling sapphire eyes and offered Marlon a sweet smile, but said nothing.

Bernard Yebler, wearing the half-worn Loring National Defense Army jacket, acted as if he heard nothing, even shifting slightly to block Marlon’s view of Amy.

Then, under Ester’s slightly awkward gaze, the clearly ex-military fox-beastman Bernard Yebler extended his right hand, covered in black oil: “Your engine’s fixed. Repair fee… five Lants.”

It was clear Bernard had no interest in meeting Marlon, not even in pleasantries. His help with the engine existed solely for the moment of extending his hand.

“You—”

Ester was visibly annoyed, but likely due to prior promises, he begrudgingly retrieved five one-Lant bills from his pocket and handed them over.

Bernard accepted the payment, nodded briefly to Marlon, and turned to leave with little Amy.

But then Marlon noticed something—on the left chest of Bernard Yebler’s jacket were three pale mechanical gears embroidered together.

Marlon’s inherited memories told him immediately: Marlon Lister ’s father, who died on the battlefield, wore the same three-gear emblem on his Loring National Defense Army uniform.

This uniform belonged to the Loring National Defense Army… Seventh Armored Cavalry Division, Third Steam Armored Cavalry Brigade.

Yet that brigade had been annihilated two years ago by the Gray Knight Legion of Helfa, leading to its disbandment—Marlon Lister ’s father had fallen in that battle.

Why, then, was this fox-beastman uncle Bernard Yebler still wearing the uniform of the Third Steam Armored Cavalry Brigade?

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