"That's more like it. No need to be so aggressive," Altaïr remarked with a smile, watching the Gajalaka settle down.
Gajalaka were known for their explosive temperaments and high aggression. If one didn't understand their language, establishing communication was notoriously difficult. However, precisely because they were highly intelligent, a show of force was often an effective strategy, especially when one was caught alone.
This was a method Francesca had taught them. Having put it to the test for the first time just now, it had clearly proven effective.
As expected of a senior Hunter like her.
Reducing their desire to attack was the prerequisite for communication. Next, it was time to pull out the second trick she had taught them: the art of the barter.
According to her, Gajalaka had no interest in money; food was their hard currency.
The problem was that the majority of their food supplies had been lost when the Airship crashed. If that weren't the case, he wouldn't have spent his break time searching for food in the first place.
He couldn't exactly offer the creature the mushrooms he'd just picked a few minutes ago, could he?
The rotting log covered in mushrooms was less than two meters away; using them as trade fodder would be seen as a total lack of sincerity.
Was there anything else that might hold great value in the eyes of the creature, but was dispensable to him?
Altaïr thought for a few seconds before pulling out an empty glass bottle that had once held a Potion.
He had drunk the medicine earlier and hadn't thrown the bottle away, being a man of good character.
To a Gajalaka still living in a primitive tribal society, shouldn't a transparent, sparkling bottle like this be considered quite a valuable item?
He took half a step forward. The Gajalaka, still brandishing its rusted sword with both hands, let out a strange cry and retreated two steps, clearly still in a state of high stress.
Altaïr sheathed his weapon and raised his hands high, palms open to show he was unarmed. Only then did the Gajalaka calm down slightly.
Altaïr approached within a few meters, leaned over, placed the empty glass bottle on the ground, and then backed away.
The Gajalaka understood his intent but refused to drop its guard. Its small eyes stared fixedly at him through the slits of its mask.
After a long while, it stepped forward cautiously, glancing up with every stride, and picked up the empty bottle.
Altaïr crouched down, watching the Gajalaka's movements with interest.
The creature held the glass bottle up, inspecting it from every angle. It pressed its eye against the bottom of the bottle as if holding a telescope, then began looking around in wonder, crying out in excitement.
"Gaba-ya! Kaba-gaya!!"
Seeing how happy it was, Altaïr knew it was satisfied with the gift.
Sure enough, the Gajalaka carefully tucked the empty glass bottle into the basket on its back, made from a hollowed-out large nut, and stowed its rusted sword away as well.
Having accepted the gift, its hostility and fear toward the Hunter vanished.
It skipped over to the Hunter, curiously sizing up the "giant" before it.
Altaïr waited expectantly for its return gift. According to Francesca, the Gajalaka's trading custom was strictly barter.
Receive an item, return an item. Just as a Hunter could give whatever they pleased, the Gajalaka would return the favor in kind; you might trade a Pure Crystal for a single dried mushroom, or swap a simple ration for a precious Wyvern Gem.
It all came down to luck.
He remembered asking Senior Francesca back then if he could just gut the Gajalaka and rifle through its pockets if he wasn't satisfied with the trade.
The look she had given him was like she was staring at a bedbug.
Of course, he had only been joking. Besides, he had only given away a worthless empty bottle; even if the creature handed him back a small stone, he wouldn't feel cheated.
After sizing up the "giant" for a few moments, the Gajalaka began rummaging through its pouch.
Suddenly, its movements stiffened. It reached back, pulled off its nut-gathering basket, and turned it upside down.
Aside from the empty bottle it had just tucked inside, the basket was empty.
Altaïr and the Gajalaka fell into a mutual silence.
After a moment of inner conflict, the Gajalaka picked up the empty glass bottle it liked so much and, with trembling hands, tried to give it back to Altaïr.
Altaïr didn't know whether to laugh or cry as he pushed the bottle back. "Forget it, forget it. I was going to throw it away eventually anyway. Consider it a gift."
The Gajalaka, roughly grasping his meaning, stared at him in disbelief.
Altaïr waved his hand and stood up, signaling that it was no problem.
The Gajalaka hesitated, but it eventually tucked the empty glass bottle away. After giving Altaïr one long, deep look, it ducked into the undergrowth and vanished.
"Interesting little thing," Altaïr muttered to himself. "No wonder Senior thinks so highly of the Gajalaka."
The brief encounter in the Jungle changed nothing. Altaïr picked a few more mushrooms and continued following the beast path forward.
Perhaps his "generosity" had brought him good fortune, for he hadn't walked more than a few steps before he ran head-on into a plump Mosswine.
This Mosswine had likely never encountered a human and had no idea how dangerous these bipedal creatures were.
Seeing the Hunter, it neither dodged nor hid, simply trotting right past him toward the decaying log where he had just been harvesting mushrooms.
"... My thanks to nature for its bounty."
Altaïr drew his Carving Knife and followed it, talking to himself.
"Oink–!" After a single, miserable squeal, silence returned to the Jungle.
When he returned to his companions carrying his prey, Sajji and Erik were in the middle of a dispute. The subject was predictable: Erik wanted to scout the surrounding area, but Sajji refused to let him.
"Alright, Erik, settle down."
After the reprimand, Altaïr set down the cloth bag of mushrooms. "There's a creek a few hundred meters from here. The bank is relatively flat and suitable for a camp. It's getting dark; let's move over there to set up. Once we light the campfire, it'll be easier for Lady Shalan to find us when she returns."
Hissing and baring his teeth at Erik, Sajji jumped onto the cart and began pedaling with all his might.
Altaïr loaded the Mosswine carcass onto the cart and called Erik over to help push. With a bit of effort, the two men and one cat reached the creek and established their temporary camp. The task of gutting, carving, and butchering the Mosswine was left to Erik.
Though the man looked frail and scholarly, he was unexpectedly skilled at this butcher's work. He had likely performed many biological dissections in his day, and he handled the task with an air of practiced ease.
Altaïr let Sajji, who was exhausted from the day's journey, continue to rest while he quickly built a campfire.
His cooking utensils had been lost somewhere along the way, making it impossible to prepare any complex dishes, but simply roasting meat over the flames was easy enough.
Shalan returned before the sun dipped below the horizon.
She landed on the pebbled shore of the creek and folded her kite. "No dangerous Monsters nearby, meow. But take note, continuing along our planned route will take us through the territory of a Glavenus, meow. It's best if we take a detour tomorrow, meow."
"Understood. Good work, Lady Shalan." Altaïr handed Shalan a branch skewered with small pieces of Well-done Steak and mushrooms.
"You're quite thoughtful, meow." Shalan gave it a cautious lick, realized it was too hot, and blew on it forcefully. "I'm getting sick of Well-done Steak and mushrooms, meow. How much longer until we're back in the city, meow?"
Altaïr pulled out the map to check. "At our current pace, it should take about four to five days."
"Meow-my, we really did travel that far from the city, meow..." Shalan took a bite of the steak and licked her paws.
Erik, who hadn't been given a chance to explore, seemed a bit sullen as he poked at the campfire. "At this rate, all that information on Large Monster distributions we worked so hard to scout will be outdated."
"I was the one who did the scouting, so why are you complaining, meow?" Shalan shot him a sideways glance. "Weren't you just slacking off on the Airship the whole time, meow?"
Hearing Shalan bring that up, Altaïr couldn't help but give a wry smile. "All we can say is that it's a good thing we were flying slowly to expand our scouting range. We're only about four or five hundred kilometers away from Metapetatto.
If we had flown all the way to the northwest of the Jungle, it would probably take us nearly a month to walk back."
"Sigh..."
The two men and two cats sighed in unison, losing all interest in small talk.
Sajji began repairing his battered cart, Erik cross-referenced the map while organizing some data, and Shalan went off to sleep early.
Altaïr took the raw meat they couldn't finish immediately and sliced it into thin strips, slowly smoking them into jerky.
He worked late into the night. Glancing up at the crescent moon hanging high in the sky, Altaïr packed all the jerky into a waterproof oilcloth, preparing to swap shifts and get some rest.
Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the bushes near the temporary camp.
Altaïr frowned and picked up his weapon.
A moment later, a familiar little figure hopped out from the undergrowth.
It was the Gajalaka they had encountered that morning.
"Gaya!"
It waved a small hand in greeting to Altaïr, placed something it had been carrying on its back onto the ground, and then ducked back into the thicket, vanishing instantly.
Puzzled, Altaïr walked over and picked up the item the Gajalaka had left behind.
It was a thin, membrane-like... material? At first, he thought it was some kind of beast hide, but upon touching it, he realized it was much thinner than skin, more like the wing of a Vespoid or some other large insect.
The shape was irregular, likely a piece torn from a larger whole.
The membrane was brilliantly colored; even under the dim night sky, it shimmered with the orange-red hues of a sunset, faintly reflecting a luster like a field of stars.
(Translated by yourtl.app)
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TL NOTES — LORE SECTION
Some terms and creatures referenced in this story may be unfamiliar to readers new to the Monster Hunter universe. The following entries provide additional context.
MONSTERS
Vespoid — A large, wasp-like insect commonly encountered in many hunting regions. Vespoids travel in groups controlled by a larger queen and use paralytic venom delivered through their stingers to subdue prey. Their iridescent wings are a characteristic feature, shimmering with color when light catches them.
ITEMS
Well-done Steak — Meat cooked to a dark, well-done finish over an open flame or portable BBQ Spit. A staple trail food for hunters on long expeditions, it restores stamina and is reliable to prepare even in the field, though its taste grows monotonous quickly.
Wyvern Gem — A rare and highly prized material occasionally obtained from large wyverns. Its extreme scarcity makes it a valuable commodity in crafting high-tier equipment, and hunters sometimes receive one through trade or as an unexpected windfall.