Even if chief was smarter, he wouldn’t had a chance to answer that question. Victor was gone.

Just like that – one evening he was seen on streets, trying to provoke some Rupert’s soldiers, the morning after he disappeared. Rupert ordered to find stranger’s body, but no one got it. So thug leader just accepted that Victor is gone. Dead or alive but not there.

*

Victor was alive, however he was going to kill. He set off in mountains, thinking that a year of preparation would be enough. Soon he found out he was wrong. Because of hatred that still was constantly running his veins, he thought he was invincible, he was an angel of death, delivering just revenge on sinners. But just in the first fight he felt a serious lack of divine justice support.

He was fighting with some wolf over the carcass of deer. The enemy was slim and weak, probably some omega who had fled from pack, unable to stand the harassment of companions. So it was a weakest member of kind that Victor was about to struggle with. But that battle wasn’t easy – it was a desperate struggle for life.

Victor was devouring carcass, after three days of fast. Wolf jumped on him, appearing from nowhere. Even the worst scout was a deadly threat to mongrel – he didn’t hear the adversary to the last second. Omega was starving, and comparing to Victor they had similar mass. Wolf was unskilled in martial arts, but his nature was leading him. Victor barely survived the first seconds of battle and luckily hit enemy’s paw. Bone cracked and wolf was crippled. But he was fighting still. Duel was finished about half an hour later where dog finally bit omega’s throat. Half an hour! So long was defending himself a crippled wolf! Mongrel understood that task he had to do was much too hard for him. Unfortunately he just couldn’t stop.

*

When spring came to Selawik, Victor came too. He was dirty, covered with scars and his left ear was almost in scraps. But his cold, blue stare was even more bloodthirsty. The rumour of returning stranger alarmed the community. On streets went half of canine population, mutts, pure breeds, domestic, homeless – almost everyone. It was looking really strange, when moderate dog of inconspicuous appearance was catching the attention of quite a big crowd.

Victor was perfectly indifferent towards such a interest and was feeling just annoying tickling of stares. He just walked through the dog, hearing some pants of admire. At the first time he wanted to turn back, but then he understood that they were looking just on him. Of course, before Rupert came.

When chief got to the street, announced by barks of his escort, most of crown turned scared stares to the leader. Pure breeds mostly just went away, sensing that that would be problem of mutts. Poor hybrids and mongrels in vast majority had no place to run, so they stayed when Rupert stopped on the route of Victor.

As the few months earlier chow-chow blocked stranger’s way and was measuring him with careful eyes. And the same Victor had no intention to walk aside. The distance was shortening fast and chief felt a bolt of fear in his heart. What if that mutt started fight? Of course, Rupert felt he would win with and kill the stranger, if not in person with help of his escort. But he suddenly sensed something strange around. The stares of dogs that stayed were waiting for a change. Maybe waiting for chance to attack Rupert. Chow-chow gang was strong, however that was just a part of dogs in town. In that moment leader felt an anxiety if his time wasn’t over somehow.

“Let me finish him, boss.” Murmured brown furred hybrid Fred, third in command.

“No wait!” gasped Rupert. He made few steps ahead and called with cordial voice. “Victor… welcome back, my friend.” Yellow furred was so confused that he stopped. A audience of street dogs sighted with emotion and slightly disappointment.

“Friend?” murmured Victor. “If that’s the way you treat friends I really don’t want to be your enemy.” Replied and added quieter. “However I will be, if you don’t let me pass.”

“What a nerve…” smiled leader. “It’s good that you are back.” And he added with whisper. “I’m really curious what you would do to me and my boys.”

“A curiosity is the first step to hell.”

“Finish him?” asked Fred.

“Try.” Murmured Victor. “I’ve killed dogs and wolves already, but killing a mix would be a new experience.” All gangsters looked in his cold, green eyes. They believed he killed a wolf.

“Take some sleep, my friend.” Said Rupert with uncertain voice. He stepped a little aside, letting him go.

“Don’t fool yourself.” Murmured dog. “I have too light sleep for you.” And he went in slaughterhouse direction.

Crowd of dogs dispersed, however many silent stares went after yellow furred, hoping for better future.

*

Victor woke about the midnight, feeling he was observed. He didn’t move an inch, just prepared himself to defence. His home was poor keep, because old slaughterhouse was ruin and it was easy to enter it from few sides. But mongrel hoped not in walls, but in own fangs. He was waiting for attack, most likely of Rupert’s pawns. “So…” thought Victor. “My friend decided to shorten list of his acquaintances.” But in next two minutes no one came.

So dog stood up and exited carefully his keep. It was warm, summer night, lightened by full moon. Victor thought that she never would be a good scout – she just had no instinct of carefulness. Young dalmanian was lying in bushes of junipers, but that cluster was in the centre of square, enlighten by moonrays.

“You don’t look like Rupert’s assassin.” Called dog. “I guess that it’s hard to join them in age of one year.” She stop up, amazed he discovered her so quickly. “It’s time to bed.” Added Victor. “You look like you have not just a bed, but also home, humans caring over you and family that is probably anxious about you.”

“I’m sorry!” whispered dalmatian. “I just… wanted to see you closer, sir.”

It was sounding strange, when purebred was talking with such admire to stray. Victor knew that he should be flattered, however he failed to feel that.

“All right.” He came closer to junipers, and when she exited the cluster he turn aside, showing his profile. “That’s me. You can go home now.”

“Thank you.” Said young bitch with breaking voice.

“Showing myself to you haven’t cost me too mush.” Smiled dog.

“Thank you for doing it with Rupert… finally someone showed him that he isn’t almighty.”

“I’m not planning any revolution.” Murmured Victor. “Those are yours problems. I just hate such a buffoons.”

“We all do, sir.” Said Dalmatian, slowly steeping back into the night. “But only you dared to say that.” Then she turned away and ran home. Victor snorted and returned to his keep.

*

There were two attempts of assassination, both prevented by light sleep of Victor. Two times dogs came from Rupert to kill yellow furred but two times they failed. First group was just two local mutts, very avid to show leader their value. Victor just scared them and sent away.

In the second try, Rupert sent three profs, two rottweilers brothers led by chart called Miko. Yellow furred killed Miko in half a minute then turned to twins with triumphal smile. They went away from his slaughterhouse and next day it turned out they went away from town. Since that time Rupert started to show even more fondness towards mongrel, what Victor interpreted as he was preparing the third team.

And dog was still fighting on the streets, mostly with Rupert’s soldiers. It was an unwritten rule that chief let his underlings to duel with yellow furred and he didn’t killed nor maimed them. And the local dogs had their show.

On every possible fight Daisy was present. She was that dalmatian, who sneaked to Victor’s house in night after he returned. She start to cheer every match of yellow furred, what was quite a sensation among others cheerers. Daisy was a purebred from good house and she was hanging in downtown just to see <Killer Mutt> as rumours called Victor.

“Is that so interesting?” asked mongrel, coming to Dalmatian, after knocking out two of Rupert’s henchdogs.

“In fact, not, because it always ends that way. You win.” She smiled with her beautiful smiled and rest of audience howled with joy.

“We must do something with him.” Murmured Fred to one of soldiers, Ben. “Chief let it slip out of control.”

“But this dude was goooood!” replied Ben wrapped up by cheering in fight. He also was looking on Victor with admire.

*

Again on November yellow furred went into mountains.

He was hoping to mend errors of last trip, however he lost his vanity and was thinking about it with realistic approach. Previous time he managed to kill just one member of Ravens Pack and he did it just because pack was scattered and its omega, Om, was accidentally walking on his path. Two more times Victor barely saved his life, fighting with other wolves for food. So he understood he was still too weak to fulfil his revenge. Even two years of training on town dogs just couldn’t make him a perfect killer. Dog have to transcend the limits of his nature.

“Is that what I should do? The most noble aim of life? Isn’t it, dad?” asked mongrel, but even memories of father were silent.

And quickly Victor was stopped by very nasty event – an epidemic of bubonic plague in forest of Yukon Valley. Hoping that Ravens Pack would flee from that he marched west to Buckland forest. There he heard about some other epidemic in Nome area and with clear resignation he returned to Selawik. He was back yet in March, what was greeted warmly by locals and caused some additional rage of Rupert.

“If you send another assassin, I will start to kill your dogs, one by one.” Murmured tired Victor who came to Rupert’s keep in old gold ore storage. “So I ask you to leave it be. Right?”

“Right.” Nodded chief, however some of his officers, especially Fred