Four men were arguing in a mountainous area on the edge of the far south. The tension was palpable in the air. The human mercenary, with his eyes cold as steel, stared at Sander, this man was an arms dealer and a werewolf dealer. Anger flashed in his eyes as he spoke in a hoarse, menacing voice.

"You promised me that you would bring me two she-wolves as payment for the goods I have given you.

Sander, with an expression of anguish, was running his hand over his head, trying to find an answer that could save him from this situation. He knew that he had made a mistake by allowing those nine she-wolves to escape and end up in the hands of the kings of the region. His mind began to spin, worrying about the possible consequences of his negligence.

"If those werewolves talk about my shady dealings, the kings will come for me," Sander thought fearfully.

The other two men watching the confrontation exchanged nervous glances.

"Give me a chance and I'll get you a pure she-wolf," Nick let out with