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Chapter Text

0.

"Gon! Killua! Leave me alone! Run!"

A bloody arm sliced off in response, falling into the grass in a paracurve that mimics the arc of the full moon in the background. The sky started to pour with rain.

Neferpitou landed crouched on the ground, ready to sprint forward and attack again. Her red pupils reflected the lengthy figure opposite of her. He was tall and thin, wearing white clothes and a blue hat, with his face emotionless. A weird smile appeared on the corner of Neferpitou’s mouth.

"Very interesting, meow ~"

-

The battle lasted a long time. Long enough that the heavy rain stopped suddenly while the sky began to dawn.

There were several scratches on Pitou’s face. She licked the blue blood off of it. She felt even more excited.

Her minor injuries were nothing, especially compared with the horrifying appearance of her opponent. Pitou thought joyfully.

She leaned lazily against the trunk of a big tree. Her cat's paw gripped another torn human arm, casually shaking it around.

The blonde man across from her finally fainted because of his injuries. The clown staff conjured by Kite’s nen ability disappeared at the same time. His sweater had been torn to pieces, revealing countless wounds on his chest. As he fell down, the blood flowed out slowly, dying the green grass around him red. Although his leg was not completely cut off, it was terrible enough that the fractured bones could not support him to stand up again.

Pitou could not help but stick out her tongue to lick the bloody wound on his broken arm.

To be honest, she didn't have much interest in human flesh. She understood that rare humans with extraordinary strength should be presented to the queen as delicacies.

Nevertheless, this heartfelt and beautiful battle felt like a dream. It stirred up her curiosity for the human even more.

Why was this human always so calm and collected during the fight? Even with his arms torn off, even if he was always at a disadvantage, Pitou could never capture even a slight bit of fear in his eyes. Why?

This question lingered, and aroused a certain reaction that spread rapidly across her mind - she suddenly felt an impulse of tearing this human apart. She did not understand the cause of it.

But it didn’t matter now. Pitou put her hands together and pointed her sharp nails at the back of the blonde man's neck, ready to take his head off.

In two seconds, the world would have one less rare human being, one more intact head, and a lot more torn up body parts.

One. two.

-

Something suddenly hit her head, harshly, something hard with thorns. She stopped her attack and scratched her cat ears. Several fluffy, round, ball-shaped green thingies fell in response - it turned out to be some fruits from the nearest tree.

The green shell was covered with protective bristles, and the real fruit seemed to be hidden inside. With everything Pitou learned through reading, she now understood a lot about human-related knowledge, but she had no idea what that fruit was. So she picked up a few at random and put them in her pocket.

In terms of mind and ability, Pitou was far beyond any ordinary adult human. However, only one day had passed since her birth. Like a newborn baby, she was curious about everything around her.

-

Animal impulses start in a flash and disappear in a flash.

-

Ah, yes. Pitou, who had calmed down, began to think. If I cut off his head now, will he never recovu-ur?

Almost did something I might regret later. I’m glad that my head was hit, meow. It doesn't hurt anyway.

Her battle with this human had been dreamlike and wonderful. Pitou wanted to experience it again.

But even if I don't tear him up, he will soon die of excessive blood loss. What should I do next? Pitou thought hard, with the powerful aura radiated by her life energy swirling around her body.

"Oh, this will do!" Pitou seemed to have an idea. She quickly turned the blonde human in front of her over and spread him on the grass. Then she placed his severed arms in their proper positions. A huge shadow rose behind her.

1.

Kite felt that he had a dream.

In the dream, he was soaring on the vast green land of NGL. He looked up and seemed to see a small-billed swan holding the collar of his sweater in its mouth.

Adult, female, about two years old... Doesn’t it belong to a subspecies that inhabits some mining area? Why is it in NGL? Kite looked semi-consciously at its short beak and white feathers, trying to get as much information as he could.

Did you come to save me? He thought. Or did you come to give me a ride?

As a biologist, Kite didn't believe in the existence of heaven. But it was clear to him that he’ll die soon. He lost to that powerful monster. The monster tore off his arms, broke the bones in his legs, and left countless wounds on his body. He would soon be chopped into meat and presented to the queen.

Seeing the swan was probably his last dying wish. After all, there is nothing left after death.

He tried to lift his arm to pat the bird, but suddenly felt a tearing pain.

I'm dead. Why do I still feel pain? Isn't this arm long gone?

Trying to confirm his doubts, Kite raised his hand again. This time, the pain was even stronger. He could not help but cry out, when he opened his eyes all of a sudden.

-

Instantly after he got out of the coma, his senses were thousands times more sensitive. He felt like there were thousands of needles dancing in different rhythms all over his body, causing intolerable itch in some parts and piercing pain in others. But the most distinct feeling was undoubtedly fatigue. Kite didn't even have the strength to moan and complain.

He found himself in a dark cave, wearing an oxygen mask, his reattached arms connected to an infusion bag. There were stitch marks all over his repaired shirts and sweaters. The surface he lay on felt cold and moist. A large inflatable doll with a scary face floated above him.

Is this the monster's nen ability?

Kite realized that he was not dead.

This was worse than death - he was brought back alive by the monster to the nest of Chimera Ants.

Chapter Text

"Are you awake, meow?" sensing the change behind her, Pitou quickly turned around and asked.

"You didn't kill me." The human seemed to express a surprised tone, but his voice was so weak that it sounded like a dehydrated mosquito.

"No, even if you wanted to die." Pitou propped her head with one hand, pretending to be thinking. "Unfortunately, the brains of the dead can't compare with those of the living in terms of nutritional value and taste. The rare delicacy provided to the queen must be of the best quality meow."

Pitou did not actually intend to pay tribute to the queen. She merely said that to trigger the expression of fear from the human’s face. She knows how human beings show fear when they await their impending death. She saw the “ordinary food” humans waiting to be slaughtered in the storage room, with their features twisted together ferociously, eyes bulging, the throat unable to make a sound. Their looks were even more dreadful than the humans who were screaming loudly on the chopping board. 

Her crimson eyes looked more intense with excitement. She stared at the human’s face. However, the human just closed his eyes, without any change in expression.

"Where are Gon and Killua?"

"Those two brats?" Pitou replied casually. "Ran away." She had no interest in the weak.

The human breathed a sigh of relief. He looked like he was... smiling? Pitou couldn't understand.

-

Kite didn't know what was waiting for him. He was prepared for the worst.

This monster had cat genes. He knew very well how wild cats in nature liked to torture their prey before the eventual killing.

What does the monster want from him? How to use nen? It already seems to be an expert in this field. Information related to hunters? Kite couldn't get in touch with others himself. Or is it the pure pleasure that torture can bring?

Whatever the reason was, Gon and Killua managed to escape. He had nothing else to worry about.

He struggled to tilt his head and saw the monster sitting cross legged on the ground. She looked at him with interest. Behind it was a crooked pile of stones arranged like a table. On it lay his bloody satchel, notebook and several green fruits - presumably chestnuts - too far away for him to clearly identify.

"Hungry?" The monster grinned. "I can bring you some fresh meat, meow?"

Kite let out a gasp. He certainly understood what "meat" meant to these Chimera Ants.

Seeing Kite’s expression, the monster laughed happily.

"Human beings are so funny. They always act like they’re dignified and moralistic, but when it comes to survival, they can eat anything, including their own kind. As far as I know, there have been at least 50 recorded incidents of human cannibalism in the NGL alone." She suddenly leaned down and got very close to Kite. The cat's ear rubbed Kite’s hair and made a rustling sound. "And we, at least, don't eat the same kind. That is the bottom line."

"Not all humans are like that." Kite was secretly surprised. This monster had obviously mastered reading, an ability that normally only humans are capable of. "The NGL is a peculiar area."

"What if you had to choose between eating human flesh or starving to death?"

With great difficulty, Kite managed to sit up. The monster took two dexterous steps back, which made the strange-looking floating doll rise up higher. "Then starve me to death, but it won't do your queen any good, if you really intend to offer me as high-quality food to her."

The monster stared at him and remained silent for two seconds, as if to judge whether he really had such a determination. Then it grabbed some green fruits from the stone table and threw them over.

"I heard that humans love to eat chestnuts. Help yourself, meow."

-

The blonde man caught the thorny fruit, then pinched the stalk and carefully broke off the thick husk, while meticulously measuring the brown fruit wrapped inside. After that, he broke open the brown shell and peeled out two light green parts that looked edible. He took off his respirator, brought the fruits close to his nose and sniffed them.

"This is not a chestnut." The blonde man said, his voice a bit more energetic, even hinting a faint excitement. "This kind of fruit is inedible and poisonous."

"Nyow I see, you know-it-all." Pitou was annoyed that the human seemed smarter than her in this respect. She began considering some punishment for him. Whether she decided to chop off his limbs or gouge out his eyes, at least let this lowly human understand how severe the consequences would be if she was provoked. Her sharp nails were ready.

"I guess you didn't poison me on purpose." The man's eyes were still on the fruit in his hands. "But thank you."

"Meow? What do you mean?" Pitou’s thoughts and actions were instantly interrupted. She felt very confused. Thank you? What’s that for?

"Nothing... When you picked these fruits from the tree, did you notice what their leaves looked like?"

"No. in fact, they fell down by themselves - what are you talking about?" Neferpitou could not help feeling curious.

"Oh." The man's eyes relaxed momentarily and seemed disappointed. He paused for a second and asked, "can you take me out? I need to find something to eat."

There was a flash of excitement in Pitou’s eyes. She immediately hid that, but she guessed that the human had seen it anyway.

"You want to find an opportunity to slip away."

The man gave a wry smile. "You really think there’s any possibility of me escaping successfully? especially from your hands?"

"Then you should also understand," Pitou’s fingernails were suddenly half an inch away from the blonde man's throat. Her bright red eyes were staring at his black eyes viciously, but her tone was permeated with penetrating sweetness. "If you try to escape, do you know what kind of punishment awaits you?"

"So," the corners of the man's mouth curled up in a slight arc. "You promised."

Chapter Text

Pitou was proud of her destructive power. The blonde man rose to his feet with immense effort, his legs trembling as he tried to take another step. She held him by the waist and briskly jumped out of the castle.

The blonde man told Pitou to visit the place where they had fought before. She found it within seconds of searching. Was there any kind of rare delicacy worth risking the human’s life just for him to ask for her assistance on having one special trip? Pitou felt very curious.

There were still some human blood stains in the area, and the grass was still disturbed.

"Crows have been here." The man touched the turf on the ground, his face expressionless. "They picked up the meat scraps of my body that were scattered around. Very well then. " This human seems to have a very cold sense of humor. If she hadn’t experienced it firsthand, Pitou would have thought that he was talking about some high-end bird food written in books related to human pets, instead of his own body.

The man's eyes locked on the tree. The big tree that Pitou used to enjoy the shade under and where she was hit by the fruit. He tried to stand on his tiptoes and pick off a bunch of branches that had several leaves and fruits.

Hmm? Turns out that humans crave for leaves just like koalas? Pitou was shocked.

The man held up a leaf and stared at it carefully. He seemed to be saying something silently in his heart. After a while, he whispered to himself, "no wonder."

"No wonder what?" Pitou suddenly came close to him and looked carefully to see if there was anything hidden in his hand, but she still saw only a branch with leaves.

"Let's go to the lake and find something to eat. I'll explain it to you there." The blonde man turned his head. His tone lightened and his expression relaxed all at once.

-

"You lied to me. I thought you would eat branches and leaves like a koala nyow." This childish statement made Kite almost unable to hold back his laughter. He thought that the monster would list what kind of punishments he’d be getting next, but it didn't. It wolfed a raw fish down right in front of him, not caring about what he thought. Kite’s own fish wouldn’t be ready for a few more minutes.

"I didn't know you were so good at fishing." The monster wiped its mouth and said. "These guys are much harder to catch than I thought."

"How does it taste?" Kite asked.

"Too bland." The monster sucked its fingers one at a time. "It tastes as bad as an ordinary human brain. Maybe your brain will taste better. " Its eyes stared straight at him abruptly, showing an eerie chill. It seemed that in the next second, its cat claws would swing over and break Kite’s skull.

"I thought you were saving me for your queen?" Kite said in a calm yet ironic tone, though inside he felt sick upon hearing about the human brain.

"......Why are you not scared?" The monster didn't answer his previous question. Its eyes, while still staring at him, seemed to ease.

"Scared of being eaten? Fear is of no use in a situation like this." Kite picked up that branch again and shook it at the monster. "Oh, by the way. You accidentally found a new species. That's why I thanked you."

"Nyow I see. You’re that excited just because of this?" The monster's bright red eyes widened. "Because of a tree that can't be eaten, played with, or used?"

"In theory, it is useless. At least the people of NGL have not made good use of it. But all new discoveries have their potential."

"How do you know it's different from chestnuts, meow?"

"It can be distinguished by the fruit alone. A chestnut fruit does not have a shell that is smooth or oval in shape, nor is it light green with two halves inside. In fact, this plant and the chestnut belong to two different families." Kite took a bite of the grilled fish and continued: "Although you had not taken off the leaves at first, I could already tell that it belongs to the Sapindaceae family. I haven't seen such a fruit before. My hypothesis is that it evolved from a buckeye tree native to the west of Yorknew city, which ages ago had dropped some seeds that floated with the ocean current and landed ashore here in the NGL."

"Nyow I understand. You needed to observe those leaves to prove your theory." The monster is now half lying on a big stone with its head supported by its cat claws. If the monster wasn’t absurdly strong, Kite would believe this posture has left it defenseless. 

"It can't be proven yet. That requires more precise calculation by computer programs. It’s just that those leaves can serve as another source of evidence, since the evolution of the compound leaves with five leaflets on buckeye tree into six of this tree is a very likely change in a short time. The most important thing is that many species in the NGL autonomous region have not been entered into the international classification system because of its isolation. So the NGL is actually an ideal place for biological taxonomists to do field investigation and research."

"You suddenly become talkative." The monster looked at him thoughtfully. It's right. When it comes to work-related topics, Kite always has a lot to talk about. He loves his work.

"So this is what you're interested in nyow? It sounds boring."

"Not quite." Kite corrected. "My specialty is large mammals. The residents of the NGL autonomous region live by farming, fishing and hunting. Many large carnivorous mammals have disappeared due to a lack of food and excessive hunting, which has made the NGL a paradise for birds, and I do not exclude researching them." In fact, he likes his research a lot.

Silence suddenly fell upon them for a while. Kite continued to eat grilled fish to replenish his energy. The monster seemed to have fallen asleep, but he did not dare to take any action.

"You know what?" The monster said as it opened its eyes in an instant. "You're probably the strangest human I've ever seen for nyow.."

"The strangest?" Kite smiled. He obviously took it as a compliment. "You must have never met Ging Freecs."

"Who is that?" The monster immediately sat up, but Kite wasn’t paying attention to its question. Instead, he looked ahead and made a "shh" gesture. The monster did not seem to understand as it continued to voice, "What happened?"

"A yellow-footed robin is flying towards us." Kite held out his hand in a friendly way and watched a tiny beautiful bird flying towards where he stood. It was about to land on the tip of his finger.

All of a sudden, the monster swiftly stretched out its claws to squeeze the bird, then put the whole bird directly into its mouth. It gave Kite a triumphant look, declaring its victory.

"Again, too bland." It did not chew or swallow the bird, instead just bit off its head and spat it out. "Not tasty at all meow."

"You only enjoy the hunting process itself." Kite sighed. "I almost forgot you were a cat."

"Not quite." It imitated what Kite had previously said, and then grinned, which was closer to a true smile, although it still gave a slightly distorted feeling.

"Well, I haven't asked your name yet, human."

"I’m Kite. What about you? Do you have a name, too?"

"Neferpitou. The queen gave it to me. Just call me Pitou. Meow."

Chapter Text

When Kite woke up from the cold and slippery cave, he found Pitou reading his notebook.

His health was still weak. After returning to the cave yesterday, he should have logged all his observations in his journal, as he was trying to do whatever meaningful things he could before getting dismembered on the chopping block. But in the middle of writing, he collapsed on the stone table and fell asleep.

"Can you give that back to me?" Kite asked.

"Let meow understand your intentions first." Pitou quickly flipped through the pages,  then threw it towards him. "You were not only doodling, but also writing some strange words on it, Oenothera volucris , is this a spell?"

"The common name is Bird-Roosting Evening Primrose. It’s a widely used herbaceous plant."

"I read about it before. The plant is native to the Mitene Union. It is said to be the most common food of birds, while it also works as a hemostatic medicine."

"Right." Kite nodded. " Oenothera volucris is its scientific name. You’ve probably only seen books that were looted by your soldiers from ordinary NGL citizens. International academic journals are not available in the NGL, so the textbooks here don’t teach about it either."

"I see." Pitou answered casually. "Boring, I thought it was your new Nen ability for combat."

It's a lot more fun than fighting , Kite thought as he took up his pen and continued to finish up yesterday’s work instead of paying any more attention to her. He couldn’t find the herbarium boards for mounting specimens, so he just copied the shape of the leaves and fruits to his notebook. Pitou sat on the opposite side of the stone table and looked at his every move with interest, her tail wagging rhythmically from side to side.

After Kite wrote a few more words that she could not understand, Pitou suddenly spoke: "To obtain this much knowledge, you must’ve read a lot of books. Isn't it hard?"

"If you like it then no, it isn’t."

"But there is a way to acquire knowledge without any effort, you knyow?" Pitou leaned close to Kite's ear, her voice soft and sweet as cotton candy.

Kite instantly straightened his back. After many years of experience in dealing with animals, he immediately knew he was in danger. "That is, open the human skull, find the hippocampus, then stimulate the neural circuit while interrogating." Pitou's indifferent tone made it sound like she was talking about a trivial life tip. "I did it once, and it was wonderful . I just stirred the brain gently. It was white and sticky, a bit of a nuisance but still easy enough for me to find the core part. Then I stabbed it with precision. The man told me all the information I wanted to know, including the four major nen techniques, the six nen categories, and water divination... even things I didn't care about, such as his name: Pokkle. Strange name."

Kite didn’t know the man, but the name sounded familiar. Then he remembered that it was because he had recently read an article about this Pokkle in a Continental Geography magazine, saying that he had set up a biological investigation team as a newly qualified beast hunter. By studying the endangered animals, his team had made some achievements in wildlife protection. Therefore, he was considered a rising star in the zoological community…Upon realizing that, Kite felt very sorry for him.

While the monster continued unconcerned, "It's so convenient nyah. Ten times faster than searching for information from books. I can't help but want to do it again meow."

"On me?"

"Hmm, I'm thinking about it. After all, it might be useful for The King to understand the habits of animals and plants and remember those strange names."

"The King?" Kite thought for a moment. The expected birth date of the ant king was still weeks away.

"Yes, my future master, the only king of the world, he shall become the most powerful creature. And I must further increase my strength to better serve him." Pitou's voice suddenly became loud and firm.

"How moving," Kite said in a flat voice. "So you think just by opening my skull, and casually stirring my nerves, you’ll be able to obtain all of my knowledge in no time?"

"After all, that's how I learned Nen . You started earlier than me, but I’m much superior in strength to you nyow ." Pitou walked up to Kite and raised her palm, which she used Gyo to have it surrounded by massive amounts of Nen . She gently stroked Kite’s long golden hair. All she needed was to apply a tiny bit of force on it, and Kite's skull would be crushed. She stared at the side of Kite's face, expecting to see shock, panic, or any sign of surrender.

She didn't succeed. Even under such strong Nen pressure, Kite's expression is still the same as always... difficult to interpret.

"Then do as you please." Kite turned and looked into Pitou’s cat-like eyes without a trace of fear. "But let me remind you first. Even if you extract the knowledge from my brain about all the creatures in this world, what you get is just a pile of text rubbish."

"You love your work, but you say it's rubbish. It sounds contradictory."

"What is dead is rubbish, and what is alive is treasure."

"What do you mean by that, meow?"

"It is much different than training Nen. You could be highly gifted, possessing a substantial aura reserve and superb insight, with which you’d be able to play around with the four major Nen principles within minutes of learning them, and easily defeat Nen experts who have spent years in training. However, even if you recite all the relevant knowledge, you will never become a top zoologist in one day." Kite said as he smirked. "For example, you’ll probably know that many birds like to eat bird-roosting evening primrose, but you won’t know where to find it; even if I tell you the location, you may not find it; even if you find it, birds won't come to eat your bait; you can't even see them."

"And you can?"

"I can."

Pitou's eyes widened. She opened her lips slightly, revealing her canines.

"Prove it to me." Her words have a powerful deterrent that does not match her sweet voice. "If I can't feel any difference , I will dig your precious brain into a hollow bowl, literally."

-

Pitou took Kite to a farther place this time. Looking back from where they are now, the Ant Hill resembles a small withered shrub.

Unlike the large yet lifeless ant hill, the NGL's wilderness is beautiful beyond description, matching its fame as the best nature reserve. Green trees and vegetation encompass the distant mountains, flowers adorn the soft grassland, and the air is fresh and moist. This is an intact ecosystem with almost no trace of human intervention. 

Strolling in such familiar surroundings, Kite almost forgot his captivity. Then the cat’s long tail swung into his view, reminding him that he could still become ant food at any moment.

The monster held its head in its hands and walked lazily in front of him. From time to time, it stopped to look around, then suddenly lunged forward, scaring butterflies to spread their wings and birds to fly. Kite looked at its curious face, and could not help wondering what it would feel like to observe nature from the monster's eyes. Would the monster also see how beautiful it is?

"How annoying Meow!" Pitou stopped and stamped her feet, breaking Kite's thinking. "Why’s there still nothing after walking this long?"

"The book says that bird-roosting evening primrose is a very common plant in the NGL," Kite remarked. "It should be everywhere."

"The book also says that its flowers are light yellow, but when I looked down from the hill, I didn’t see any yellow. That means there is no such plant nearby." Pitou was very confident about her vision. A few days ago, she had easily located Kite and two little kids only with a glance, even when they were several miles away.

"But after walking so far, I still don’t see them." She pouted. "Could it be because of the season and time? Nyow that I think about it, there is no mention of it in the NGL’s books."

"Good question, yet the answer is no." Kite said. "Bird-roosting evening primrose blooms in spring and summer. Unlike other members of the genus Oenothera , which only bloom in the evening, this species blooms all day long."

They continued to roam around, until a wide river appeared and blocked the way forward. The river was so grand that they could not see the other side.

"If I’m not mistaken, we have reached the border of the NGL. Across the river is the Republic of Rokario." Kite said.

"Hey, expert, gimme some tips." Pitou expressed her impatience. "Where on earth can I find the plant meow?"

"As I said, they are everywhere." Kite, who was still injured, finally lost his strength and sat down on the grass near the river bank.

"Then why can’t I just..." Pitou suddenly stopped talking and stared at Kite, blinking several times. "Help me find it."

"I will, but," Kite lay down slowly, closing his eyes, and seemed to enjoy the fragrance of grass leaves. "Let me have a rest first."

"You......!" Pitou made an angry expression, then shook her head and grudgingly sat beside Kite cross legged.

-

The sun soon slid from the zenith to the western horizon, drawing the shadow of Pitou longer and longer. The blond man in front of her is still keeping his eyes closed and breathing evenly.

Is this the human nap? Pitou doesn't quite understand why humans nap, considering how inefficient and useless this behavior is.

She gazed at Kite's face with perplexity. She didn’t know why, even though she had limited patience, she had never been annoyed by this human - perhaps “not annoyed” weren’t the right words, they weren’t strong enough, she’d rather use... Pitou mentally searched through the human books she memorized, trying to find a word to describe the exact feeling, but ultimately failed.

She couldn't help getting closer, close enough to feel his breath patting her face. Unconsciously, she stretched out her cat's paw and carefully stroked his high nose bridge with her claw, bit by bit downward…

The blond man suddenly opened his eyes. Pitou's fingers had not reached the tip of his nose before she pulled away her paw in a hurry. She immediately sat upright, even her tail stopped swinging.

"It's time for birdwatching." Kite looked up at the sun, seemingly unaware of Pitou touching his face just now. "Let's pick some bait first, then go find a good spot by the riverside."

He said as he turned to the grass he was just lying on. A long human figure had imprinted on the flattened grass, and some little yellow flowers were scattered clandestinely within that shape. Kite squatted down and picked all the flowered grasses.

Pitou seemed to have gained some insight. “Nyow I understand. There needs to be a combination of darkness, heat and pressure for the bird-roosting evening primrose to bloom.”

"Maybe." Kite didn't look up at her, but continued to play with the grass on his hands. "I’m not sure if that’s the exact principle." After all, he also hasn’t been here for long.

"But you act like an expert on this plant."

"Experience," Kite said. "When I first entered the country the day before yesterday, I noticed that birds here like to bury their bodies in the grass for a long time. This behavior seems strange, but if it is because they are doing it to feed, it makes perfect sense."

He then added, "If you paid attention on your way here, it wouldn’t be difficult to figure that out. Unfortunately, you are more interested in unscrewing their heads than observing their lifestyle."

"Meow, I just want to play with them." Pitou countered with dissatisfaction. The next moment, her paws were stuffed with bird-roosting evening primroses. Kite gave her all the bait he picked.

"... What about you?" Pitou asked.

"I don't need it." Kite replied casually.

-

The river was sparkling as the setting sun reflected its streak on the surface, turning it orange. Waves met the shore, sending an evening breeze to the riverbank.

"If only telescopes were allowed in this country," Kite said with disappointment, looking at a group of small black spots rolling with the waves in the middle of the river.

"You don't need a telescope nyow." Pitou asserted with confidence due to her superior vision. "Twenty-seven. All swimming towards us. Hmm, most have black feathers mixed with other colors, a few are white all over, and some are glowing and glittering."

"It’s called iridescence. The color changes as  the sunlight hits from different angles."

"Whatever, I don't know their names, but they all look quite…interesting meow." Pitou wanted to say "delicious", but she knew that once she chewed up the skulls of these waterfowl and sucked up their brains, she would’ve only commented “too bland, tastes bad.” While they seemed -- just seemed -- to have intrigued her in a different way. She almost began to understand the boring human beside her.

All of a sudden, a huge white waterfowl took off from the surface and glided swiftly towards the shore.

"That's a Trumpeter Swan," Kite said as he grabbed Pitou's shoulder with excitement, yet released his hand the next second. "Hold still. I think it’s flying towards us because it noticed the smell of the bird-roosting evening primrose."

Pitou watched the small white dot turn into a huge creature. She anxiously spread her hands full of primroses, and did not dare to move in the slightest. She did not understand why she felt nervous. Seems like she really anticipated that bird to jump into her hand and feed, but she doesn't. She will swing her paw over and tear its neck, just like she did to the robin. That’s what she should do.

The trumpeter swan suddenly turned when it was a few feet away from Pitou. Then it perched on Kite's forearm, extended its head to rub Kite's neck in a friendly way.

"Hello, big guy." Kite spoke with a soft voice as he gently stroked the feathers on the back of the swan. "Did you come to NGL last winter to escape the cold? Haven't had time to leave? I thought you would be somewhere cooler this season."

Pitou looked at the blond man next to her with bewilderment. She could not understand why the bird, which was attracted by the fragrance of primroses, would reject the food in her paws, while showing great affection for Kite like they were man and pet who had lived together for many years.

When the trumpeter swan let out a high-pitched call (Pitou felt that it really sounded like the human instrument it was named after), other waterfowl on the lake, even some shore birds that had previously hidden in reed marshes and bushes all flew to Kite and landed on his hat’s brim, shoulders, hands and sweater collar. And Pitou's bewilderment turned into anger.

Kite sat down and tried to make as much space as possible for the birds to perch on. When he kindly asked a Yorknew bluebird whether it had adapted to life in the NGL, Pitou abruptly threw herself at him. She waved her paws and kicked her legs at random, driving all the birds away.

"I don't like that," Pitou said, staring Kite straight in the eye. ‘ She looks like she is truly angry.’ Kite thought, a real yet harmless anger, not the kind that makes people shudder, the kind that forecasting her tearing your head to pieces in the next second.

"They all flew to you, but none to me!" Pitou continued. "Why? I’m the one with all the food."

"I don't know," Kite said calmly. There were still some birds roosting on him that didn't want to fly away. They shrunk into Kite’s collar. He stroked their napes to put them at ease.

Pitou blinked. "Alright meow, I promise that I won't crack your skull open for the time being."

She finally admitted that not all knowledge and abilities were as easy to extract as Pokkle’s brain matter. Kite thought. Though reluctantly.

"Your head is full of killing and extracting brains," Kite said. "They can sense it. They are not as stupid as you think."

"Meow? Then what should I think of?"

"Think of something else," Kite looked out over the placid river, only a small red spot was still rippling on the water. "Like how beautiful the sunset is today, or, how beautiful you will be when surrounded by birds."

All of a sudden, Pitou fell silent. She didn't know how to respond, but she seemed to understand why Kite attracted those birds even without any bait.

She sat down quietly beside him, once again opened her hands holding a handful of primroses, then closed her eyes and tried to think.

Think, what to think, why think, has she ever thought with her own consciousness, instead of letting her mind be completely controlled by the instinct of the ants? Anything irrelevant to the ambition of Chimera Ants conquering the world? All her consciousness could reach, besides the beautiful NGL wilderness, was this strange human next to her.

Pitou felt something pecking at her palm, and opened her eyes again. She saw a pretty gray bird standing in the palm of her hand, with bright yellow fluff under its wings. It was pecking at the stamens of the evening primroses without a care in this world.

She should immediately close her paw and crush the prey in her hand, but she did not. She took her arm back with care, as if holding a precious fragile object. Then she released one hand to stroke the smooth gray feathers behind the bird with her paw, just like Kite did. The bird didn’t fly away.

"This is a yellow-rumped warbler. They mainly feed on insects, but plants are in their diet as well." Kite explained. He was inexplicably pleased with Pitou's absorbed look. "It likes you."

"Oh." Pitou uttered, her attention still on the creature she held.

Probably because of how the yellow-rumped warbler was taken care of, more birds were attracted and took Pitou’s shoulders, knees, tail and cat ears as perches. Pitou began to feel uncomfortable, but she dared not to move, afraid that her actions would scare all the birds away.

"Hey, come here and take some Oenothera volucris away meow!"

"Can’t believe you recited that name."

Kite thinks Pitou looks ridiculous now. She’s just like a scarecrow with her arms stretched, back straightened and cat tail cocked. All kinds of birds perched on her, and more and more birds were joining in. "Hey, help me nyow. I can hardly stand nyow! Hey, Kite --"

Pitou was knocked to the ground by a swan, then she grunted, but it sounded like a purr. Kite couldn't help laughing at this scene. He found Pitou on the ground laughing too, a heartful, genuine laugh that he never imagined he would see on the monster’s face.

Right, monster , he then remembered that this is a man-eating monster. She, no, it cannot and will not have any normal human emotions.

A sense of guilt hit Kite. What is he doing? He should not feel any touch or joy for this monster. She - it will be destroyed by the reinforced hunter extermination team, and it deserves to be exterminated! Nevertheless——

Kite decided to start thinking about the help he could provide for the arriving hunter extermination team, as well as coming up with an escape plan, even though he had no clue what to do.

Chapter Text

Since that day, Neferpitou insisted on Kite accompanying her daily to the wilderness of NGL for nature observations, using the opportunity to learn more about the habits of animals and plants.

Although forced, Kite can't deny that he is enjoying the adventure itself. He has indeed made many new discoveries during those outings, and his body is gradually recovering day by day.

Yet, as time passed, the doubt and unease buried deep within his heart flared up like a fire fed with fuel, burning ever brighter.

The King’s due date was drawing closer, but there was still no sign of reinforcement from the Hunters. During his limited time outdoors, Kite had been on the lookout but found no trace of unusual Nen activity. Moreover, his own situation wasn’t optimistic. He was still considered the Queen's spare food, uncertain when he might be butchered and turned into meatballs. Although he had been staying with Pitou, and her hostility towards him seemed to have waned, Kite was keenly aware this was only because his actions were entirely under her control. Pitou is confident in her strength, and her confidence is well-founded. As someone who experienced it firsthand, Kite believed that even Netero himself couldn’t guarantee an unscathed retreat after a battle with her. Any attempt to escape now would only end with him being torn to shreds. He had no chance.

But his greatest fear was not being killed by her.

He didn’t know when it started, but somewhere along the way, Kite realized that the moments he found himself enjoying were no longer limited to those brief instances of connecting with nature and studying wildlife.

—Like now. Kite held his pen, tapping little dots on the notebook absentmindedly, unable to write a single word.

“What’s on your mind, meow?” Pitou, sitting beside him, was watching his notes with great interest. “Why did you stop writing all of a sudden?”

Yes, like now. He wasn’t birdwatching outdoors; he was inside a gloomy ant cave writing observational logs, with the constant threat of being ripped apart and eaten. His future was nowhere in sight. Yet, because of Pitou’s company—ha! He’d twisted her behavior into something resembling "companionship"—he felt... not as bad?

“Oh. Just trying to recall a detail,” Kite replied with a blank expression. “That sparrow with the peculiar flight pattern yesterday—do you remember the colors of its crown and throat?”

“No idea, meow.” Pitou thought for a moment before responding. “So you can’t identify it? Your eyesight is terrible.” She sounded slightly disappointed.

“Yeah, it was a bit too far,” Kite said without looking up. His eyesight was top-notch among humans, but he had no focus to spare.

Pitou stroked her chin thoughtfully before suddenly snapping her fingers with a smile, as if she’d come up with an idea.

“I’ll be back in a bit.” Pitou stood and started toward the exit, but after a few steps, she paused and turned back. “Oh, by the way meow—if you try to escape, I’ll know.”

Kite stiffly nodded, fully aware of the range Pitou’s En could cover.

“Good. I don’t want to kill you yet, but if you run, I’ll have no choice, meow.” Pitou smiled. “ You’re far too precious. ”

Once Pitou vanished completely into the dark corridor, Kite let out a long sigh. He tossed the pen aside, washed his face with both hands, and stared at the specimens and notes on the stone table in frustration, still unable to focus on writing anything.

After sitting in silence for a while, he suddenly sensed movement nearby and promptly activated his En .

A very faint nen pressure, coming from a single source. Though its Zetsu was good, the overall presence posed no real threat.

To conserve energy, Kite withdrew his En and turned calmly toward the source.

Emerging from the darkness was a comical figure. As it came closer, Kite saw it was a short, plump macaroni penguin holding a book.

He sneered. “The Queen isn’t picky about her meals, is she?”

“I knew my instincts were right.” The penguin spoke, its gaze full of wonder and admiration. “Even amongst rare humans, this guy is a gem, a one-in-a-million specimen.”

“Flattering,” Kite replied. “I have two questions. First, why did you come here alone?”

Before asking the second, Kite had already moved silently, his hand now gripping the penguin’s neck.

“Second, what’s that book in your hand about?”

——

As the most knowledgeable squadron leader in the entire ant castle, Peggy was the ants’ most reliable consultant.

Whether it was the Queen’s meal distribution, the Nen-related studies, the use of human inventions, disputes among teammates, or various other matters, whenever questions arose, the ants would turn to Peggy for assistance.

Recently, even Colt, the first squadron leader in charge of soldier allocation and resource management, had sought him out.

"Her Majesty now needs two hundred meatballs every day," Colt said, his face full of concern.

"What’s going on? I thought the castle’s reserves were sufficient." Peggy knew Colt’s loyalty well; as long as it was Her Majesty’s need, he would spare no effort to fulfill it. Under his leadership, the soldier ants had become highly efficient in capturing food. There was no reason for him to worry about the quantity.

"It’s not the quantity," Colt sighed, continuing. "But ever since Her Majesty tasted rare humans, she’s been complaining every day while eating ordinary meatballs. She keeps saying, ‘When will I get to enjoy that kind of delicacy again?’ And according to her, every time she eats a meatball containing Rares, the fetus inside her quiets down for a while."

"Mm." Peggy nodded. "Evidently, the soon-to-be-born King also craves high-quality food that can provide him with greater strength."

Colt’s tone suddenly grew impassioned. "Every time I see Her Majesty clutching her swollen abdomen, groaning in pain, I wish I could alleviate her suffering—even if it meant offering my own flesh and blood!"

"And right now, the only way to stop the King in Her Majesty’s belly from kicking is to feed her meatballs made from Rares," Peggy analyzed.

"Exactly. But you know, Peggy, capturing rare humans isn’t easy."

"Hmm, Lord Neferpitou brought one back last time. I believe it’s still in her quarters," Peggy said after a moment’s thought. "She even consulted me about anatomy and medical techniques, probably intending to experiment on that half-dead human. Judging from her interest, that human must be an extraordinary Rare. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have bothered; she’d have thrown it straight to the chefs."

"What? She knows about Her Majesty’s condition and needs, yet she’s hoarding such a precious resource? That’s absurd!"

"Calm down, Colt," Peggy quickly interrupted, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Lord Pitou might hear you."

"I don’t care!" Colt protested. "This concerns Her Majesty’s safety. If the food we provide fails to satisfy the King, he’ll try to emerge early to seek food himself. Premature birth would greatly harm Her Majesty’s body!"

"You’re right." Peggy, recalling his own studies, agreed. "All right, I’ll go speak with Lord Pitou. I trust she won’t ignore the bigger picture. Even if that human is useful to her, we can let her keep the body, she just needs to offer the most vital part—the brain, to our Queen."

"I’m counting on you." Colt grasped Peggy’s flat wing with a pleading look. "Out of all the squadron leaders, only you have a bit of rapport with her. None of the others, myself included, have ever received so much as a glance from her."

Colt wasn’t wrong, Peggy thought. Ordinary soldier ants feared Lord Neferpitou, and she, in turn, paid no attention to them. The gap in strength between them was too vast. Peggy himself only managed to converse with her because of his broad knowledge base.

He should feel some pride about this. After all, for a lowly squadron leader to earn the favor of the Queen’s elite royal guard was no small feat. Take Rammot, for instance, after receiving just a casual lesson on nen from Lord Neferpitou, he had strutted around with arrogance for days. Peggy, however, felt no such pride—only a vague sense of disquiet, as if this order of things shouldn’t exist, though he couldn’t articulate why.

He picked up the book that never left his side, flipping to page 57, and headed toward Pitou’s quarters.

He didn’t understand why he always carried that book, never reading it seriously and always stopping at the same page. It felt like a habit ingrained in him since birth.

So when that terrifyingly strong human gripped his short, thick neck and asked about the book, he couldn’t answer—not merely out of fear but because he genuinely didn’t know.

The human deftly took the book from Peggy’s hands, glancing at the cover. "Fairy Tales of Nature, published by NGL Youth Press. Interesting. I expected some intricate scholarly work, but it’s a children’s book."

Peggy’s eyes widened. He wanted to call out Pitou’s name for help but feared provoking the human further. He could only silently pray that she hadn’t gone far and that her En would detect the disturbance. Otherwise, his life was likely over.

The human opened the book and easily flipped to page 57. Peggy had even folded the corner of that page.

"‘The Cuckoo and the Reed Warbler’... A hunter shot the cuckoo’s mother, and before she died, the cuckoo laid her egg in the reed warbler father’s carefully built nest..." The hand gripping Peggy’s neck loosened slightly. The human seemed intrigued by the story. "...The baby cuckoo grew bigger and bigger until one day it could no longer stand the tiny nest. It told the reed warbler father, ‘I’m going to fly higher and farther, to live in a better, prettier nest!’ The reed warbler father knew the cuckoo wouldn’t return once it left, so he said to the cuckoo—oh, the next page is missing."

"He said, ‘Wherever you go, you will always be my child.’ Then the baby cuckoo flapped its wings and flew high, never to return." Peggy felt as if the words weren’t coming from his own throat. His mind was blank.

The hand on his neck released completely. The human’s gaze was filled with astonishment.

"You actually—"

"—What’s going on, meow? Peggy?" The human’s words were interrupted by a familiar voice. Lord Neferpitou! Peggy’s savior had arrived!

Peggy rubbed his neck where it had been gripped earlier. It didn’t really hurt; the human probably hadn’t used even half his strength. Still, the feeling of being subdued left an uncomfortable aftertaste.

"I just came to discuss something with you, your highness," Peggy explained, bowing slightly, hoping his politeness might increase his chances of success. "But you weren’t here at the time, and as soon as this human saw me, he grabbed my neck."

Neferpitou tilted her head slightly. She stood tall and straight, but her hands were clasped behind her back the entire time.

"Nyow I see. He didn’t really intend to kill you at all." she said casually, her tone so light it sent a chill down Peggy’s spine. But he had to admit she was right.

He glanced back at the human, who was now leaning against the stone table, arms crossed, studying him intently with an expression that was hard to read.

"So, what is it you wanted to discuss, meow?" Neferpitou prompted.

"About Her Majesty’s nutrition, your highness," Peggy replied, bowing again.

The macaroni penguin leaned closer to Pitou, making a dramatic show of winking and raising a wing to his beak—a gesture that signaled he wanted to whisper. Pitou looked slightly annoyed but ultimately bent down to let him approach. Because the Royal Guards couldn’t receive the brainwaves of regular soldier ants, Peggy had no choice but to communicate this way. For some reason, he felt discussing the human’s imminent fate in front of them was unnecessarily cruel.

Carefully, Peggy relayed Colt’s points in the most polite and diplomatic manner he could muster. Throughout the hushed exchange, he maintained a tone of utmost humility.

However, as the moments dragged on, he received no response from Pitou. Puzzled, he lifted his head—and immediately stumbled backward in terror.

Neferpitou was staring at him with an expression that could only be described as hostile, Intensely hostile.

——

Kite couldn’t make out what the two chimera ants were saying on the other side of the room, but he noticed Pitou’s expression gradually shifted from casual and relaxed to increasingly serious.

“No—way—” Pitou’s lazy voice finally reached Kite’s ears. “Isn’t it the squadron leaders’ job to prepare food for the Queen, meow? If you can’t complete your tasks, don’t think about asking me for help.”

“Your highness, you’ve misunderstood. The squadron leaders have already overachieved in their duties, but…” The penguin, named Peggy, spoke up in a pleading tone. “Her Majesty’s body is in desperate need of this rare delicacy.”

“When I say no, I mean no.” There was now a trace of irritation in Pitou’s voice.

“Your highness, then how about this? Just the most essential part… just his brain! That would be enough—”

“What?!” This time, Pitou sounded genuinely angry, and Peggy immediately cowered, using his flat wings to shield his head.

“Oh, let me think, nya,” Pitou said, her tone turning playfully menacing, as though suppressing her fury. “It must’ve been that fool Colt who sent you here, right?”

Peggy didn’t answer.

“You don’t have to say it. I already know.” Pitou smiled coldly. “Relax, Peggy. I won’t accuse you of betraying a comrade. Just do me a favor and go back to Colt. Tell him to stick to his duties and stop meddling.”

“But—”

“I am a Royal Guard. My responsibilities are to ensure the castle’s safety and serve the King. You—and Colt, as squadron leaders—are responsible for preparing food and serving the Queen. We each have our roles, and we don’t interfere with one another. Got it, nya?” Pitou leaned forward slightly, smiling, her crimson cat-like eyes once again gleaming with that familiar unsettling light.

Peggy looked like he wanted to argue further, but in the end, he decided against it. He sighed, gave a comically deep bow, and began to waddle away on his short legs.

“Wait,” Kite called out. “Don’t forget your book.”

Peggy turned back, muttering a quick thank-you to Kite as he retrieved the copy of Fairy Tales of Nature from his hand.

“This book must be important to you,” Kite said, his sharp gaze fixed on Peggy’s retreating figure. “ Take good care of it. ”

Peggy glanced back at Kite with a puzzled look, before disappearing into the dark corridor.

——

"Look at this!" Pitou extended her previously hidden paw and waved it in front of Kite’s face. In her hand was a small black bag.

Kite, lost in thought, was startled by Pitou’s gesture. The bag looked far too familiar. Could it be…?

He took the bag and unzipped it. Inside, he found a brand-new pair of binoculars.

Kite’s eyes widened unconsciously, his mouth slightly agape. He turned the sleek instrument over in his hands, inspecting it carefully. He didn’t smile, but Pitou could still read the surprise—no, delight—on his face.

“10x50. Not the best, but it’ll do,” Kite said as he meticulously adjusted and tested the binoculars.

“At least your terrible eyesight won’t be a problem anymore, meow.” Pitou sounded smug. “This saves me a lot of trouble.”

Kite nodded and asked, “Where did you find these binoculars?”

“In Gyro’s base,” Pitou replied. “I remember you said they’re contraband. Nearly all of NGL’s contraband ends up there.”

“Ha, of course.” Kite scoffed. “The propaganda paints this country as one founded by people who abandoned mechanical civilization to embrace nature. But in truth, its leaders exploit the conveniences of mechanical civilization to oppress the people.”

“Every book I’ve read here has a preface emphasizing the dangers of contraband, to the point where I’ve memorized the categories by heart, nya.” Pitou added, “There wasn’t just the binoculars. I also saw nail clippers, glass cups, computers, machine guns, mobile phones, treadmills, and even silicone dolls.” When Pitou mentioned the last item, Kite’s mouth twitched noticeably.

“It’s absurd. They ban tourists with silicone implants from entering the country, yet they secretly buy blow-up dolls for themselves,” he muttered with a hint of sarcasm.

“What do you call that?” Pitou asked.

“Hypocrisy,” Kite replied with a smirk. “Or, to put it another way, politics.”

(Pitou’s question could have been interpreted in two ways, but Kite had no interest in explaining what a blow-up doll was. That would’ve been too troublesome.)

“Nyow I see. I heard that hypocrisy is a common trait among humans, meow.”

“No, not all humans are like that.” As he spoke, Kite slung the binocular bag around his neck. He thought of many of his friends. For some reason, he also thought of Peggy. Speaking of Peggy…

“I guess you’re not like that,” Pitou said cheerfully, turning to pick up the notebook on the stone table. “So, where are we going today?”

She was met with a long silence.

“What’s wrong?” Pitou turned back, seeing Kite staring at her with a complicated expression.

“I couldn’t hear what that penguin was saying to you, but I think I know,” Kite said calmly. “He came today to ask you to give me to the Queen.” And you were supposed to do it , Kite thought to himself.

“Oh, that.” Pitou shrugged, her tone casual. “I’ve changed my mind, meow.”

“Why?”

“Because… because…” Pitou tilted her head, her finger tapping her chin as she paused for a long time, as if genuinely searching for a reason. “Ah! Because you’re still useful to me, meow.”

Kite let out a small sigh of relief. A reasonable explanation—this was exactly what he expected a cold, calculating Royal Guard to say. It made it easier for him to view Pitou as nothing more than a merciless, man-eating monster.

“Besides, nya,” Pitou continued, brushing her silver curls with her claws. “I’m pretty sure the King can survive even if he leaves the Queen’s body now. The Queen’s already useless. Feeding you to her would be a waste.”

Then what about feeding me to the King? Kite almost asked. He ultimately held his tongue. Perhaps because, even though he knew exactly how this cold-blooded monster would answer, he didn’t want to hear it with his own ears.

“I’ve got it, nya!” Pitou suddenly exclaimed in a sing-song voice. “Let’s head southwest. There’s a large wetland there.”

“Maybe we’ll spot some of NGL’s rare frog species.”

“Now that you’ve got binoculars, you’d better tell me all their names.”

“I’ll try,” Kite said with a faint smile.

When will the Hunter reinforcements arrive? Kite wondered. Am I truly trapped here?

——

"This is absolutely outrageous!" Peggy muttered to himself as he stomped through the dark corridor. "No regard for the Queen at all! Fine, whatever. Like she said, 'Not my job, nya~.' If she doesn’t want to, so be it, but she can’t even be bothered to give me a proper reason!"

"No respect for her elders—wait, I’m an elder?" Peggy suddenly stopped mid-step, confused by the strange statement he had just made. After failing to figure out where it came from, he continued on his way, still fuming.

"And that human was just as odd! ‘Important things’? What does that even mean? And then he went and grabbed me by the neck! No respect at all! Not like my former students—back then, they would send gifts to my home during the holidays. Jail loved those gifts. His favorite was—" Peggy halted once more. "Students? Jail ?"

He lowered his gaze to the book in his hands.

Once again, he flipped to page 57, his eyes scanning the words: “cuckoo,” “son,” “fly away.”

Something in Peggy’s mind was growing clearer, coming into focus… until a sudden, piercing headache overwhelmed him.

He dropped the book and clutched his head, letting out a sharp scream.

Chapter Text

Late at night.

Neferpitou sat cross-legged on a stone pillar outside the ant castle, holding Kite’s notebook in her hands. Her eyes scanned the thin pages while the cool breeze gently lifted her silver curls.

Sleep was not something she needed. Ants work around the clock, while cats are nocturnal creatures by nature. The combination of her genes left her feeling wide awake at this hour. She was fulfilling her duty as a Royal Guard, keeping watch over the castle, but it was clear her attention was wandering.

Flipping to the next page of the notebook, she continued to study Kite’s illustrated and meticulously written observations with great focus.

Pitou recognized her own name from the phonetics and couldn’t help but run her finger over the inked letters on the page. Recalling their expedition to the wetlands earlier that day, she felt an unfamiliar warmth stir in her chest. Although her name was a gift from the Queen when she was born, this was the first time she had seen it recorded in human writing on something as enduring as paper.

Kite’s handwriting was different from the rigid, lifeless fonts of the printed books she had read. Though neat and precise, it had an unrestrained, peculiar beauty.

She turned her head to look at the dark entrance of the castle. From within came only the sounds of soldier ants bustling around the Queen. Pitou’s quarters were deep inside, and that was where Kite had been placed as well. For a fleeting moment, Pitou found herself wishing Kite could stay there forever.

Activating her En, she sensed the flow of Kite’s life energy—it was calm and steady. He must be fast asleep.

Humans and their need to sleep at night. How annoying, meow, Pitou thought irritably. If only he could stay awake to play with me. I still have so many questions to ask him.

On the other side of the forest, thousands of small smoke-like rabbits were bounding toward the ant castle.

Pitou’s En immediately detected the disturbance. Her feline ears perked up, but all she heard was the rustling of wind through leaves.

“Not a living thing, meow,” Pitou analyzed with a hint of disappointment. She thought of Kite—why was she always thinking of Kite these days?—and remembered how he said only living things held value worth cherishing.

“So it’s just another rare human’s nen ability, a reconnaissance technique,” she concluded, breaking off a reed of grass and lazily twirling it between her fingers.

This opponent was worth noting. Judging from the activity and endurance of these smoke rabbits, their user possessed strong nen, perhaps even stronger than Kite. But compared to her, the gap was insurmountable. She could easily imagine herself defeating—no, killing—this human without much effort. Well, maybe just a little effort. However, Pitou couldn’t determine their exact location and found herself lacking much motivation to go after them. Killing a human far weaker than herself without reason felt boring.

Lately, for her, the thrill of hunting and killing had paled in comparison to the joy of observing and interacting. Even she herself was surprised by this change. Kite’s influence on her might have been greater than she realized.

But that didn’t mean she had lost all her resolve.

If these humans threatened the King’s birth, she wouldn’t hesitate to kill them.

And if they came to take Kite away from her, she’d still kill…No, then Kite wouldn’t talk to her anymore, wouldn’t take her out to explore, and wouldn’t teach her anything. He would—Pitou suddenly remembered the cold, sharp look in Kite’s eyes when they first met, and the tearful, despairing gazes of the other food reserves before they were slaughtered. She realized something.

Ah, it’s that word, meow. Hate. Kite would hate me.

Even though she didn’t fully understand the meaning behind it, she instinctively rejected and resisted the idea. What frightened her even more was the thought of Kite leaving—leaving her—abandoning her.

Then again, escaping this place might be the thing Kite wanted most right now. Stopping him would be simple: she could kill him. But—

Pitou found herself grabbing at her curls with both paws in frustration.

This is getting so complicated, meow.

Lost in thought for a long time, Pitou puffed out her cheeks and leaned her head against the mud wall of the castle, as if all the air had been let out of her.

Why does everything become so complicated when it involves that human?

-

Kite noticed the cat’s unusual mood.

“Don’t you want to go explore somewhere today?” he asked, pausing his writing. A few reference books lay open on the stone table, and his journal had been updated with detailed, well-documented new entries.

The sun was already setting, yet Pitou was unusually quiet today. Normally, her insatiable curiosity would have her dragging Kite out into the wilds of NGL—whether it was rolling around in the grass or climbing trees to look for bird nests, Pitou always found joy in their adventures.

But now, she simply sat beside him, quietly watching as Kite worked on his journal, very well-behaved.

Well-behaved wasn’t a word that fit Pitou, Kite thought. Pensive, perhaps, seemed more appropriate—if she truly understood how to ponder.

“No.” Pitou shook her head. “You keep writing, meow. I’ll just stay here.”

Kite frowned slightly but didn’t press her further. He opened a nearby book, A Guide to the Plant Taxonomy of the Balza Archipelago , intending to figure out which subspecies a peculiar member of the Polygonum genus they had found today belonged to.

“I saw that you wrote my name,” Pitou suddenly said.

“Oh,” Kite replied. “You were the one who spotted that redstart first. I thought it was only right to acknowledge your contribution in the journal.”

“I’ve never seen my name written in human script before, meow,” Pitou said, folding her arms on the stone table and leaning forward. She paused before adding, “But I must admit, I like seeing it.”

“Hmm.” This time, Kite looked up at her.

“But I still don’t fully understand. Peggy said names are a way for humans to distinguish each other. But sometimes I wonder—why bother? We’re all just servants of the King, after all.”

“Sometimes.”

“Yes, meow.” Pitou tilted her head and looked at Kite. “But other times, I find that idea laughable. After all, my name was a gift from the Queen.”

“I thought you didn’t like the Queen.”

“I don’t. She’s too weak, nya,” Pitou replied, her tone as indifferent as if she were talking about a broken vacuum cleaner. “Her only purpose is to give birth to the King.”

“Then I suppose you’d prefer being called Royal Guard #1, #2, or #3?”

Kite watched as Pitou furiously shook her head, her lips pouting. He had to admit, she looked almost… cute.

“No! I already told you, meow, I like my name.”

“Fair enough,” Kite said, beginning his explanation. “Simply put, unlike ants, whose missions and roles are determined before birth, a newborn human’s life trajectory is unknown. So they need names to differentiate one another.”

Pitou nodded, though she still seemed only half-understanding.

“Usually, parents name their child shortly after they’re born,” Kite continued. “If we were to use human social structures and ethics, the Queen would be your mother.”

“We don’t emphasize that concept, meow. The Queen gives birth to all soldier ants, but we don’t call her ‘Mother.’” Pitou made a comically exaggerated expression, as if discussing something absurd. “We don’t organize into family units like humans. Every ant belongs to the Queen’s and the King’s army.”

“Because it’s more efficient,” Kite added dryly. “I know.”

“Mm.” Pitou hummed, then fixed her eyes on Kite and asked, “Do you have a mother?”

“Yes. And no,” Kite replied. “I don’t know her name or remember her face. I don’t have a biological family. From as far back as I can remember, I was on the streets, surviving alongside abandoned animals.” He paused, unsure why he was revealing these past experiences to Pitou. Perhaps isolation in such a confined environment wore down psychological defenses, he thought.

“The research team I lead now feels more like a family to me than anything else.”

“‘Feels like’? Just feels like?” Pitou picked up on the subtle emotion in Kite’s words.

“They all have their own homes and families who love them. They have places they want to protect. From that perspective, I envy them,” Kite admitted. “But not all orphans are as fortunate as I am. If it weren’t for Ging—that eccentric I’ve mentioned before—rescuing me, I would’ve died in the slums long ago. So I suppose I should be grateful.”

When Kite finished speaking, he didn’t receive any response or comment from the other side. Turning his head, he saw Pitou propping her chin up with her paws, her large, luminous cat eyes fixed intently on him. The unwavering gaze made him feel a little uneasy, though not unpleasantly so—it was more like a faint anesthetic had been injected into the back of his neck, leaving him with a strange, hard-to-define sensation. He shook his head, trying to dispel the odd feeling.

As Kite was momentarily distracted, Pitou snatched his notebook and picked up the pen, hastily scribbling—or rather, chaotically scrawling—a messy jumble of marks in the blank space on the paper.

Kite didn’t stop her. He merely watched calmly from the side.

After a moment, Pitou put down the pen, flipped back a page to compare her work, and began writing again. This time, she slowed her pace, seemingly trying to mimic Kite’s handwriting. However, the result was just as messy as before. Frustrated, she tossed the pen aside and scratched the back of her head.

“What are you trying to write?” Kite couldn’t help but ask.

“Can’t you tell, meow?” Pitou countered.

“I can’t.” Kite frowned as he examined her scribbles multiple times but couldn’t make sense of them. “Is this supposed to be some kind of modern abstract art?”

“It’s a sentence,” Pitou said. “When you were talking about your past, it popped into my head, and I thought I should write it down.” She paused, then added, “But I’ve never written anything before.”

“I figured as much. Even your grip on the pen is wrong. It should be like this.” Kite took the pen, held it in the proper position, and demonstrated. “Apply pressure closer to the tip—it gives you better control.” Leaning slightly closer to Pitou, he extended his arm and wrote a few letters in the notebook to illustrate his point.

“Oh, it’s my name!” Pitou exclaimed eagerly, snatching the pen back. “I can write that, nya.” She sounded brimming with confidence.

Following Kite’s instructions, she adjusted her grip and copied the neatly written Neferpitou directly below Kite’s example.

“How’s this, meow?” Pitou proudly showed the notebook to Kite.

“It’s legible,” Kite replied. Though it still looked like squirming worms, he thought.

“What you really mean is, ‘It’s terrible,’ I could tell.” Pitou shot him a glare, clearly annoyed.

“Are you going to kill me because of it?” Kite raised an eyebrow.

“No.” Pitou’s irritation vanished in an instant, replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. “Why would you think that?”

You nearly killed me, you’ve repeatedly threatened to kill me, and I could die at any moment—why wouldn’t I think that? Kite thought to himself. But upon reconsidering, he realized that, despite being trapped here for so many days, Pitou hadn’t genuinely tried to kill him since their first and only lethal confrontation.

“It’s nothing,” Kite said at last. “Just asking.”

“Alright then,” Pitou said, smiling again. “Teach me how to write some more!” She wrote her name once more to show him.

Kite sighed and pointed out, “You’re still holding the pen wrong.”

“I’m trying my best, meow~” Pitou pouted, her tone verging on playful. “I only have four fingers—you have five! Of course it’s gonna be different.”

“If you want to learn faster…” Kite stood up, and the height difference between them became even more pronounced. Pitou now had to tilt her head at a steep angle to see his face.

Confused, Pitou looked around until, in a sudden moment, she felt the warm touch of Kite’s hand against the back of her right paw. She was startled, and turned her focus back to him.

Kite had moved behind her. He leaned forward, gently guiding her paw with his hand to adjust her grip on the pen.

“Try writing again like this,” Kite said softly. His breath brushed against Pitou’s upright cat ears, making them twitch slightly, and her entire body shivered for a moment.

Kite didn’t press down hard to correct her grip. Instead, he let his hand follow the movement of her wrist and fingers, helping her write the familiar letters once more.

They were now very close. Their arms touched, his golden hair fell lightly against her cheek, and his chest hovered just over her slender shoulder.

Kite didn’t know what this cat in front of him was thinking, feeling, or if she even understood what feelings were—he remained skeptical about that. But he was acutely aware of his own racing heartbeat, his chaotic thoughts, and a peculiar tingling discomfort wherever their skin made contact.

Shocked by the intensity of the sensation, Kite suddenly released his hand.

“No!” Pitou cried out just as he let go.

“…What’s wrong?” Kite asked, though he felt like he already knew the answer.

“It’s just…” Pitou hesitated for a moment, as though struggling to find the right words. “I liked it. Your hand on mine, your touch. It felt… different, meow. I don’t know how to describe it, but I know it’s something I’ve never felt before,” she said, turning to him with a gaze full of longing. “And I don’t want it to stop.”

A silence followed.

The silence brewed a heavy, ambiguous atmosphere that simultaneously attracted and repelled those within it.

Kite straightened up and took a few steps back, putting some safe distance between himself and Pitou. It also gave him space to regain his composure.

“…I was just showing you an example. Sorry,” Kite said, deliberately averting his gaze. “You’ll have to figure out a method that works for you. Otherwise, you won’t improve. Look,” he forced himself to glance at the notebook, hoping to appear casual. “You’ve improved a lot this time. Keep practicing, and you’ll get the hang of it.”

“You’re acting strange,” Pitou said, frowning. Kite’s attempt to change the subject had completely failed to divert her attention. She looked both puzzled and slightly disappointed. “What’s wrong?”

Kite opened his mouth, unsure of how to answer, yet unwilling to let the silence drag on. Fortunately—or unfortunately—a third voice interrupted.

“Your highness Neferpitou!” Standing at the entrance was a soldier ant with a bird-like beak and broad wings. “I have an urgent report. Today, Chiona’s and Baital’s squadrons—” The soldier ant stopped abruptly when he noticed Kite’s presence. He didn’t seem to realize that Kite’s gaze held not just scrutiny but a faint trace of gratitude. After all, this ant had saved Kite from a rather awkward situation.

Judging by Pitou’s suddenly solemn expression, the soldier had continued his report in a volume too low for human ears to discern.

“I understand, meow,” Pitou replied, sounding uninterested. “If that’s the case, I’ll go with you to take a look.” She sounded reluctant.

“In addition,” the bird-like soldier ant shot a serious look at Kite, “I must once again urge your highness to—”

“Stop!” Pitou interrupted sharply. “I know what you’re about to say, but the answer is no, Colt. Didn’t Peggy relay my words to you?”

“Peggy? I haven’t seen him since he went to find you. I thought you had assigned him some task. Your highness, I still believe—”

“Let’s go now. Didn’t you say the matter was urgent, nya?” Pitou cut him off with a smile, grabbing Colt’s shoulder firmly.

Turning back to Kite, she said in a tone that was half-command, half-request, “Stay here,” before dragging Colt out of the room, leaving Kite alone.

-

Kite gleaned a lot from the limited information he had.

The Hunter reinforcement team had arrived in NGL, which meant that Killua and Gon had safely made it back to the contact point. The weight on his heart, one he hadn’t fully realized he was still carrying, finally lifted completely.

The reinforcement team had begun their operation and had achieved significant results, eliminating a large portion of the ant army.

Realizing this brought back the guilt Kite had grown somewhat numb to, surging anew and prompting him to make several decisions in rapid succession.

He needed to gather intelligence on the Queen, figure out a way to contact the reinforcement team outside, and even devise a plan to coordinate with them to take down the entire ant nest.

“Stay there.”

The cat’s silhouette flickered through Kite’s mind, her parting words ringing clearly as he replayed the scene.

“Don’t overthink it. She just sees you as an obedient, well-behaved hostage,” Kite told himself.

But he wasn’t.

Chapter Text

Kite walked slowly along the dimly lit dirt passage, leaning against the wall as he moved. During his time in the ant nest, he had been confined to Pitou’s quarters and had never had the opportunity to explore other tunnels or rooms. If he wanted to escape or provide intel to the Extermination team, familiarizing himself with the layout of the nest was absolutely essential. This was a rare chance—one he couldn’t afford to waste.

But as he thought about it, he realized this opportunity existed only because Neferpitou had once again left him alone in her quarters, this time without even issuing a threat. Was it because she was overly confident in her own strength, or—could it be—had she actually started to trust him? By sneaking out, was he betraying this rare and fragile trust, one that was so hard to come by? Kite found it absurd that such a thought had crossed his mind. Compared to the greater interests of humanity, it was insignificant, yet the faintest flicker of guilt still managed to disturb his thoughts, causing his Zetsu to falter for the briefest of moments.

“What’s bothering you so much?” a voice asked suddenly. Kite tensed up immediately, scanning his surroundings, but he couldn’t find any sign of a living being.

“I mean, your Zetsu is nearly perfect—if it weren’t for that sudden fluctuation just now, I wouldn’t have been able to keep up with you.”

Kite remained silent and took a few quick steps back, adopting a combat-ready stance.

“Hey, don’t fight here. If you’re discovered, it won’t do you any good either.”

“Who are you, and why are you following me?”

“Well, that’s a long story. At first, I just thought you were interesting, or rather, I was curious why Lord Pitou decided to spare you. Then, over time... things happened, and I decided to keep watching you.”

“So you’ve been following me since the beginning,” Kite said, quickly pinpointing the voice’s source. The chimera ant’s nen was unremarkable, far weaker than Kite’s, but its tone was lazy and self-assured.

“Can you not look at me with those icy eyes that could pierce through rock? The scales on my back are practically standing on end from fright. I’m not here to kill you. I’m not interested in killing people—I’m only interested in observing humans. Isn’t that kinda like your job? Ha ha.”

Gradually, a strange-looking chimera ant emerged in front of Kite. His face and neck were covered in dark green scales, his head topped with a messy nest of blond hair that resembled weeds, and his protruding eyes pointed in different directions. It didn’t take Kite much effort to deduce the source of this ant—clearly, a mix of human and reptile-like creatures, such as a chameleon, mashed together by the soldier ants and fed to the Queen. He wore a blue hoodie, his hands stuffed casually into the pockets of his jeans, and his gait was slightly pigeon-toed. Kite was surprised to find that his expressions, posture, and mannerisms seemed more familiar, even friendly, than any other chimera ant he had encountered. In fact, he even seemed more relatable than certain humans who, despite their appearance, behaved in ways far less humane.

“My name’s Meleoron. Nice to meet you, Kite.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice you this whole time.”

“Don’t feel bad about it,” Meleoron said. “Lord Pitou’s En is more sensitive than yours, and even she hasn’t noticed me. As long as I don’t want to be seen, no one can find me.”

“Then why reveal yourself to me?”

“Didn’t I just say? I like observing humans. When I’m assigned to missions outside, I’m usually paired with Koala—he kills, and I watch. Sometimes I get bored and wander off to nearby villages to take a look around—oh, by the way, don’t tell Lord Pitou I’ve been slacking off.” He gave a mischievous grin. “My nen ability gives me a unique advantage for studying humans. As long as I hold my breath, I can stay hidden indefinitely. No one can find me, and no one will be scared off by how I look…”

“You’re not scary at all. Talking to you feels natural, even relaxing. I don’t think I’d say the same about any other chimera ant.” Kite’s thoughts briefly drifted to Pitou, but he had to admit that, even after spending time with her, he still felt on edge whenever she was around.

“See? That’s one of the things I like about you, buddy.” Meleoron patted Kite on the shoulder. Though they had been in a standoff moments ago, Meleoron didn’t seem to perceive Kite as a threat. “You’re not blinded by appearances. You can quickly see the essence of things and show genuine care and kindness. And sometimes, real care can change things. Those changes might be subtle and hard to notice, but they’re happening all the time.”

Kite’s eyes lit up as if he had just remembered something. Meleoron seemed to notice and quickly changed the subject. “For example, right now—if I had any doubts before, I’m now 100% sure I want to be your friend.”

“Sounds philosophical,” Kite said, nodding. “But I still don’t know if I should trust you.”

“Oh, actually, there’s another reason I came to see you,” Meleoron admitted. “I have a mission.”

“What mission?”

“To take you to someone. Once you meet him, you’ll understand why I sought you out.”

-

This felt like Meleoron’s true reason, Kite thought. He couldn’t understand why Meleoron didn’t get straight to the point but instead danced around it in such a roundabout way. Perhaps it was simply his personality—indeed, the higher-order chimera ants, with their significant expression of human genes, had each developed distinct personalities. From an evolutionary perspective, this was quite fascinating. How, then, should Pitou’s personality be defined? Cruel? Childish? Curious? Adventurous? Protective? Or perhaps he shouldn’t be thinking about that cat at all right now.

Change happens all the time. Meleoron’s earlier words echoed in his mind. Was it true? Did he really have that kind of power—the ability to shake the ants' genetically ingrained loyalty and obedience? Or was it the other way around? Was it he who was being changed—his moral defenses crumbling under Neferpitou’s influence, allowing him to be willingly dragged into the abyss by this adorable yet malevolent creature? What could he do? What should he do? He didn’t know.

Meleoron led Kite to a well-hidden secret door and knocked three times. The door opened, and standing before them was a short, stout macaroni penguin—a familiar face.

It was Peggy.

Meleoron carefully closed the door behind them and said, “Kite, let me introduce you to someone—this is my father.”

Kite looked at Meleoron, then back at Peggy, whose appearance and stature were entirely different. He wasn’t sure how to respond.

“I know what you’re thinking. Let me explain—”

“Let me do it, Jail,” Peggy interrupted, walking up to Kite and extending his right flipper. “My name is Peggy. Before becoming a penguin ant, I used to be a teacher.”

Kite shook his hand and asked, “Do you mean when you were human, before…?”

“Yes. Jail—Meleoron—is my son. He’s not my biological child. When he was just a baby, his parents abandoned him, and his cradle floated down a river to a spot across from my classroom. From that moment on, I became his father, raising him on my own until he grew up. Jail was never particularly ambitious—he was terrible at everything except arguing with me and causing trouble. He left home at twenty, saying he needed space. The last time I saw him was during a visit home when we had another argument, this time about his smoking. He stormed off early with his bags, and later that same afternoon, the ant army attacked the village.” Peggy recounted his story in detail, while Kite noticed Meleoron standing next to his father, smiling wryly and shaking his head.

Peggy continued, “I never married, never had siblings, and my parents passed away long ago. Jail was my only family, my only concern. The last thought I had before losing consciousness was, ‘What happened to my son?’ My worry for him became an obsession, one I carried into this penguin body.”

“So that’s why you’ve been carrying that fairy tale book and always remembering the story of ‘The Cuckoo and the Reed Warbler.’”

“That book was a gift from my father on my eighth birthday,” Meleoron interjected, patting his father’s back gently. “When I was a child, he used that story to explain my background and inspire me to dream big and work hard. He even tore out the last page and taped it to my bedside as encouragement. Unfortunately, as he said, I lacked ambition and turned into a nihilist.”

“If you wanted to, you’d make an excellent philosopher. You’re quite talented,” Kite remarked.

“Thank you, Kite—not just for the kind words, but for everything. If it weren’t for you sparing him that day and reminding him—and inadvertently reminding me, as I was tracking you—about that book and that story, I might never have reunited with my father.”

“Yes, I’m truly grateful to you, sir,” Peggy added with a nod. “That’s why I had Jail seek you out while Lord Pitou was patrolling—to let you know that we’re willing to help you as a way of repaying our debt.”

Kite sighed, still caught up in the story’s impact. “I believe you, though it’s hard to imagine something like this unfolding before my eyes. I’m curious—do memories of being human awaken often in higher-order chimera ants?”

“No. Apart from us, I haven’t heard of any other cases of full memory recovery,” Peggy explained. “But some ants retain fragmented memories. For example, Colt occasionally mentions someone named Reina—I suspect she was important to him. As for the Royal Guards, it’s unlikely for them to have this experience. Their ‘creation’ process is quite different from ours.”

“Then what about you now?” Kite asked. “Do you see yourselves as human or as ants? And what if helping me conflicts with the interests of the ant colony?”

“Honestly, I don’t know, and I don’t care. Why should I have to choose?” Meleoron shrugged. Peggy shot him a stern look and said, “I hate what the ants did to me, my son, and my village. But what’s done is done, I’ve become one of them. Though Jail and I have never killed anyone ourselves, we participated in hunts and even tasted human flesh. Now that we’ve regained our memories and realize part of us is still human… I’m stuck in the middle. I don’t know what to do next. If the human army invades the nest, should I protect the Queen? Even though I can vividly recall the terror of her mandibles tearing into flesh, I still feel a natural sense of duty toward her.”

“Not all chimera ants feel that way about the Queen, Dad,” Meleoron interjected. “I don’t care much about her. There are also ants like Cheetu and Hagya, who only act on instinct and self-interest. They certainly wouldn’t care if she lived or died.”

“Unconditional loyalty to a leader is a trait rooted in your ant genes,” Kite said thoughtfully. “It’s the foundation of the colony’s survival. But based on what you’ve described, it seems this trait’s expression varies in higher-order ants, influenced by epigenetics. I hadn’t expected human DNA in the Queen’s diet to cause such an effect.” He couldn’t deny that this conversation with Peggy and Meleoron had given him new insights into the chimera ant problem. Peggy’s honesty, sensitivity, and guilt, coupled with Meleoron’s carefree yet friendly demeanor, made Kite feel like he was talking to an honorable pair of human father and human son, not negotiating with monsters.

“I won’t ask you to help me kill the Queen. But we have to acknowledge that she’s a huge threat to humanity,” Kite said, deliberately using “she” instead of “it” to ease Peggy’s discomfort. “At the very least, she needs to be contained—no more offspring, no more harm to humans.”

Meleoron nodded, while Peggy hesitated for a moment before speaking, as if making a difficult decision. “Perhaps we can contact your companions and help you reunite with them to carry out your plan as soon as possible.”

“Wouldn’t that be too dangerous for you?” Kite asked, surprised. “You two have only just reunited. I don’t want you taking risks for my sake.”

“The Queen doesn’t care about me or my son. To her, we’re just pawns to be discarded at any time—and she’s a pawn herself, existing solely for the King’s grand ambitions. If she wins, we’ll live our entire lives in danger. Helping you is a temporary risk.” Peggy paused, then added, “I still have complicated feelings for her, but I want Jail to survive. When the human army defeats the ant nest, promise me you’ll protect Jail.”

“Of course. The same to you,” Kite replied without hesitation. “You’re my allies now.”

“You’re the one who needs protection, Dad,” Meleoron joked, laughing. “Because I—” Meleoron and Peggy suddenly exchanged a glance and fell silent.

Kite hadn’t noticed any changes, but he immediately realized it had something to do with the ants’ telepathic communication.

“How strange. Why is the Queen suddenly calling a meeting?” Meleoron scratched his head. “Ah, I guess Lord Pitou will be back soon. The path on the right leads straight to her quarters. You should go now. We’ll talk again if we get another chance.”

“Ha. If she finds out I’ve been here chatting with you, she’ll kill me.”

“No, we’ll die. You won’t—at least not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re a great person, Kite.” Meleoron gave Kite a firm pat on the shoulder. “Just keep being yourself. Don’t underestimate your influence—after all, change happens all the time.” With that, he turned and walked away.

-

Meleoron might be an actual philosopher, Kite thought as he walked back. Philosophers often spoke in ways that sounded profound yet left others puzzled. Meleoron’s words seemed to have opened Kite’s eyes, but they also plunged him into deeper confusion and doubt. Neferpitou, Neferpitou…her name echoed repeatedly in Kite’s mind, yet he still couldn’t find an answer to his questions. The only thing he could be sure of was that he was less resistant to thinking about Pitou now. When she crossed his mind, the positive emotions increasingly outweighed the guilt. As he walked, he let his thoughts drift naturally, unsure if this was good or bad.

Kite’s tranquility didn’t last long. As he spotted the faint light from the entrance to Pitou’s quarters, a powerful nen aura suddenly surged from behind him.

Along with the nen pressure came the sound of a melodious violin. Kite turned around to see a tall, handsome male chimera ant with dazzling butterfly wings standing gracefully, immersed in the music he was playing.

The butterfly seemed to sense Kite’s gaze. He opened his amber eyes, the antennae on his golden hair twitching slightly, and the music abruptly stopped.

“How extraordinary,” the butterfly said. “In this vast Queen’s palace, so crude and filthy that it disgusts me, there lies a lowly human.”

The moment the butterfly finished speaking, Kite felt a wave of intense killing intent. For the first time since his battle with Pitou, he faced an opponent who posed a genuine threat. In the fraction of a second that followed, he calmly assessed his options: his sword was locked away in Pitou’s quarters, his body and nen had only recovered about 50–60%, and his torn right arm still lacked strength—but he had no choice but to fight. Too many people had placed their hopes on him; he couldn’t let himself die here for nothing.

“Human, how fortunate you are.” The butterfly’s tone was theatrical, like the lead actor in a play. His wings shimmered even more brilliantly. “You are about to witness a most exquisite and unparalleled death—your death, orchestrated by none other than me, Shaiapouf.”

Kite remained silent and started to conjure his nen. He knew there was no point in engaging in conversation with this chimera ant named Pouf. Every word would be wasted breath, better conserved for the fight ahead.

“Wow, ignoring me for so long and finally remembering I exist! Where’s your heart, huh?” the Crazy Slots jester complained loudly.

“Stop whining and draw a number.”

“Dulululululululu—3!”

“Three again…” Kite sighed as he deftly spun his weapon. “Is this your way of telling me to stall for time?”

In the next instant, Pouf charged. Kite dodged nimbly and quickly used his weapon to block Pouf’s follow-up attack. Despite his injuries, his physical skills remained exceptional. Kite’s strategy was clear: maintain a defensive stance to conserve energy for a prolonged battle, then wait for the right moment to deliver a decisive blow. He soon realized that while Pouf had immense talent and strong nen, he lacked combat experience and had barely developed his abilities. This gave Kite a sliver of relief.

That relief didn’t last long. A sudden dizziness overcame Kite, and his sharp eyes caught the strange shimmer of Pouf’s wings. Without hesitation, Kite held his breath and shifted from defense to offense, breaking Pouf’s attack rhythm.

“Not bad. Quick reaction and clever too, knowing there’s no point in dragging this out,” Pouf sneered. “Unfortunately, it’s too late. Prepare to die, human!”

Nen aura gathered around Pouf’s violin bow as he lunged toward Kite’s heart. Kite withdrew his weapon and quickly raised it in defense, though he wasn’t confident he could block the strike after holding his breath for so long.

Clang—

Pouf’s bow snapped in two and flew into the air, while Kite’s weapon remained intact. Standing in front of Kite was a familiar cat-shaped figure.

Neferpitou, appearing out of nowhere, now stood between Kite and Pouf, raising her paw to block the attack.

“Ow, that hurt, nya!” Pitou licked the wound on her paw where the bowstring had cut her. She took a few steps back, her tail brushing against Kite’s coat. With great interest, she looked Pouf over and asked, “So, you must be the newly born Royal Guard?”

“Indeed, I am Shaiapouf,” Pouf said with a slight nod. “Please step aside, Pitou. I need to finish this fight and eliminate the intruder behind you.”

“Hmm… what if I say no?” Pitou said, rubbing her cheek. “He’s not an intruder; he’s a human I captured. Naturally, his disposal is my responsibility. If he tries to escape or cause chaos, I can kill him at any time. No need for you to trouble yourself.”

“You’ve fought him before, so you must understand—he’s no ordinary rare human. He’s an exceptionally strong and valuable specimen. As Royal Guards born to serve the King, we should be willing to sacrifice everything for him. Killing this human and feeding him to the Queen would be immensely beneficial for the King she carries. Why would you deny me my first opportunity to serve the King since my birth?”

Pitou thought for a moment before replying, “I understand the King’s priority. It’s precisely because of that I’ve kept him alive. I’ve been monitoring the Queen’s condition frequently; the King inside her has already fully developed and hasn’t grown in the past ten days. Feeding her rare delicacies now won’t impact the King’s strength and would be a waste. It’s better to wait until after his birth to decide. Besides, Kite—the human—possesses extensive knowledge about NGL’s flora and fauna, which could be invaluable for the King’s future rule. Trust me, Pouf, we’ll have plenty of chances to serve the King later.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Pouf admitted after a pause. “It seems I misunderstood your loyalty. As long as it benefits the King, I don’t mind if you keep a human around for fun.” He raised an eyebrow and scanned Kite from head to toe with a scrutinizing look. “But what use is he to you? A pet? A training dummy? Or…”

“He teaches me how to birdwatch and classify NGL’s plants and animals. It’s very interesting, meow.”

Pouf let out a scoff of surprise. “I can’t believe you’d be interested in something like that! Is it to better serve the King with knowledge? I’ve underestimated you, Pitou.” He flapped his wings and made to leave but stopped mid-flight, turning back. “With the King’s birth imminent, we must double our vigilance. Don’t let your playfulness cause any mistakes.” He whispered the warning into Pitou’s ear, then, seeing her nod, gracefully flew out the window.

-

Kite silently watched Pitou’s feline ears and slightly curled silver hair until she slowly turned around. Her red eyes met Kite’s, showing a trace of exhaustion. Her posture was noticeably more relaxed than before.

“You didn’t listen to me. I told you to stay in the room, but you ran off.”

“This isn’t far from the room,” Kite replied calmly, silently hoping she hadn’t noticed anything about his contact with Peggy and Meleoron. “I sensed a powerful nen aura and killing intent completely different from yours. Of course, I couldn’t just sit there waiting to die, so I ran out to fight Pouf.” 

Pitou pursed her lips but didn’t press further. “Are you okay, meow?”

“I’m fine. What about you? I saw your hand was injured.”

“It’s just a small wound. It’ll heal quickly.” Pitou held out her right hand, which was still tinged with a faint bluish hue. “Huh, that’s strange—why hasn’t the bleeding stopped yet?” She leaned in to lick the wound, but Kite caught her wrist.

The blonde man pulled her hand closer, examining the wound carefully. He explained gently, “Pouf’s abilities likely carry a toxin, and that attack was imbued with concentrated nen. The wound on your hand isn’t just a normal injury—it’s affected by residual nen, which is why it’s still bleeding. Leaving it untreated would be inconvenient, and using Dr. Blythe feels like overkill. Here’s what we’ll do: on the table, there’s some bird-roosting evening primrose we collected a few days ago, which can be used as a hemostatic herb. I also have some bandages in my bag. Once we’re back, I’ll dress your wound—it should do the trick.”

“Alright nya!” Pitou answered cheerfully, pulling Kite along back to the room. She sat quietly by the table, letting Kite handle her injured hand.

Kite sprinkled the powdered herb onto her wound, then carefully wrapped the injury with bandages. His hand rested briefly in Pitou’s palm, and he couldn’t help but notice how unexpectedly soft her paw felt. He glanced at Pitou, only to find her staring back at him. Her long tail swayed lazily from side to side, and her expression looked thoroughly content.

“You look like you have something to say to me. Why not just come out with it?” she asked.

“I was just thinking about your conversation with Pouf earlier,” Kite replied. The way they constantly brought up the King struck him as both amusing and absurd. “You said you let me live because I could be useful to the King. And that my knowledge of NGL’s flora and fauna could benefit him?”

Pitou didn’t seem to catch the subtle note of skepticism and sarcasm in Kite’s tone, but his words still made her furrow her brow in thought. The answer should have been obvious: she needed Pouf to understand her loyalty. As fellow Royal Guards, they couldn’t afford to be divided—it would harm the King. She also genuinely believed the King would share her interest in Kite’s work. She was convinced that the joy Kite brought her could also be shared with the King she cherished. That required Kite to remain alive. Yet Pitou couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more—something she couldn’t quite understand. It felt like an unwelcome fog clouding her thoughts. She shook her head, unwilling to dwell on it further. “Of course. Do you have any complaints about that?”

“No, I just find it fascinating,” Kite said, “You and Pouf haven’t even met the King, yet you’ve already decided to devote your entire lives to him.”

“Of course. From the moment we were born, we were destined to serve the King. It’s an honor. You humans—” Pitou yawned. With Pouf’s birth, she was finally relieved of some of her sentinel duties. She had thought herself tireless, but days and nights of non-stop vigilance had left her slightly fatigued. Outside the ant nest, the sun was shining brightly—the perfect time for a cat to take an afternoon nap. “You humans… don’t you have people you’re willing to sacrifice everything for, meow? The ones you often mention—Ging Freecss, and those two kids. When you fought me, weren’t you prepared to die for them?”

“I absolutely was, but it’s not the same,” Kite replied firmly. “I would sacrifice myself for Ging, Gon, and Killua, but they don’t dictate my life or define my worth as a person. My willingness to sacrifice for them is my own choi—” He stopped mid-sentence, noticing Pitou had already slumped over the stone table, her breathing steady. She had fallen asleep.

“Why am I even bothering to explain this?” Kite muttered to himself. “It’s like I’m pretending she can understand.” He reached out gently, stroking the soft white fur on Pitou’s head for a moment before opening his journal. Quietly, he resumed writing, pouring his efforts into what might be his final contribution to the world.

Chapter Text

When Neferpitou woke up, the sky had already darkened. Her sensitive ears twitched lightly. Outside the nest, the chirping of summer insects filled the air, as if urging her to step out for a visit. Sleepily, she turned her head and saw Kite sitting nearby, carefully examining an unusual plant they had collected during one of their recent outings. With tweezers in hand, he gently removed a tiny seed from the heart of the flower and meticulously sketched its shape in the notebook beside him.

Pitou’s gaze shifted to the partially dried Araceae plant—she was surprised to realize she could now easily identify its family and genus just by looking at its flowers and fruit. She watched as Kite placed the plant back on a sheet of blotting paper, covered it with another sheet and a wooden press. Her eyes wandered from the edge of the leaves to Kite’s slightly pursed lips, the wide brim of his blue hat, and finally to his smooth, golden hair. His hair swayed with the breeze drifting in from the cave’s entrance, and Pitou couldn’t help but reach out to play with it.

Kite paused what he was doing and glanced over at Pitou, who was thoroughly amused as she toyed with his hair.

“Looks like you had a good nap,” Kite remarked.

“Kite, I’m so bored nyow.” Pitou complained as she rolled a small strand of his hair into a golden ball.

“But you just woke up. Can’t you sit still for a while? Let me finish processing this specimen first—it’s delicate work, and I can’t afford any mistakes.”

Pitou straightened up and let out a dissatisfied huff, reluctantly removing her hands from Kite’s hair.

“Thank you,” Kite said before adding, “And thanks again for bringing back all those materials from Gyro’s base. They’ve been incredibly useful for making specimens.”

He placed the final press over the plant collection and topped it off with his hefty journal.

“I’m done now. Your turn—what do you want to do?” Kite asked.

Pitou glanced toward the cave entrance. The sky was dark as ink, and the best time for birdwatching and flower spotting had passed. She cast a slightly disheartened look at Kite. “It’s your fault, nya. What’s there to do so late?”

Kite noticed her tone sounded less like blame and more like playful whining. It almost made him want to laugh, though he also felt unsure of how to respond. It was like dealing with a moody teenage girl—except she wasn’t a teenage girl but a monstrous ant capable of crushing an entire human army with one hand. An indescribable fear roared within him, but by now, it no longer stopped him from acknowledging his true feelings. He found himself growing increasingly comfortable ignoring Pitou’s monstrous nature, finding it easier to connect and converse with her. Without realizing it, he no longer referred to her as “it ” , the pronoun one might speak of a creature. Perhaps Pitou truly was changing, or perhaps it was all in his head. Or maybe it didn’t matter at all—within a few days, the King’s birth would shatter everything they had built between them. If that end was inevitable, then at least for now, in this moment, he would let his emotions take him wherever they may, even into the unknown.

“There’s plenty we can do—something fun,” Kite said with a smile. “We can go look for owls. I’ve never gone specifically to see NGL’s owls before, this is my first time, and it’s with you.”

“We can do that at night?”

“Night is the best time to see them. Owls, like you, are nocturnal. But to go birdwatching at night, we’ll need to be well-prepared.” Kite packed a flashlight and binoculars into his satchel. From the pile of supplies Pitou had brought back from Gyro’s base, he pulled out a blue-gray cloak and draped it over his shoulders. Standing up, he brushed off the dust, adjusted the hem, and lowered the brim of his hat before turning to Pitou.

This time, Pitou didn’t jump up and drag him out of the ant nest as she usually did. Instead, she rested her chin on her hand and quietly gazed at him. Her eyes, vibrant and soft, reflected the image of Kite as he stood there. Her slightly parted lips revealed a tiny fang, and her crimson pupils seemed to drink in the sight of him.

“What are you looking at?” Kite asked.

“You,” Pitou answered without hesitation. “I don’t know why, meow, but there’s something different about you today.”

“I just put on a cloak, that’s all.”

“Hm, but I don’t think it’s the cloak. Although, I have to say, it looks good on you.”

Kite had never cared much about his own appearance. He typically just grabbed whatever clothes were at hand and went about his day. Yet, for some reason, he often received compliments from friends and colleagues, calling him “dashing” or praising his “good fashion sense.” He never understood why and didn’t care to. But today, hearing Pitou say this, he couldn’t help feeling a small sense of joy.

“Let’s go.” He extended his arm toward Pitou. She froze for a moment, then lightly placed her hand on his arm.

-

The NGL forest at night was even cooler and quieter than during the day. Kite treaded carefully with every step, trying not to disturb the animals already at rest in the forest, but the rustling sounds of his boots against leaves and soil were still clearly audible. Beside him, Pitou’s footsteps were almost soundless. Kite supposed that it had something to do with the feline genes in her body.

Not long after they started walking, Kite noticed some debris under a tree. He turned his head, intending to tap Pitou on the shoulder to draw her attention, but he realized her left hand had somehow slipped into the crook of his arm. Shaking his head in resignation, he adjusted his arm to hold hers more securely.

“What is it, nya?” Pitou asked.

“Look.” Kite shone his flashlight on the pile of debris that appeared grotesque. He leaned close to Pitou’s left ear to explain, the soft fur on her cat ears tickling him slightly. “Under that tree, there are some fur and bone fragments—remnants of an owl’s regurgitated pellets. That means they’re nearby.”

Pitou’s red eyes widened with excitement. She was just about to leap onto the tree trunk to investigate further when Kite raised a hand to stop her. “Wait a moment,” he said, gesturing toward a well-hidden thicket nearby. “We should hide there and observe for a bit first. I’m not sure how sensitive NGL’s owls are to disturbances. If we move rashly and scare them off, we won’t see anything.”

Kite had expected Pitou to argue with him or intentionally make noise to embarrass him. However, she simply let out a light hum, took his arm, and pulled him into the thicket.

From their crouched position within the bushes, the trees of the NGL forest seemed even taller than usual. Before long, a series of faint and chaotic hoots and murmurs sounded from deeper in the woods. Kite pulled out his binoculars and directed the lenses toward the canopy of a fig tree where the calls originated. Sure enough, an owl perched at the juncture of two branches.

The moonlight was dim and faintly scattered across the forest, providing only a slight glow. Kite could barely make out the owl’s silhouette and position, but its feather patterns and other distinctive features were indistinguishable. Using a flashlight to get a clearer view would risk startling not only this owl but also the surrounding birds, disrupting any further observations. As he hesitated, debating whether to use the flashlight, he noticed Pitou beside him, staring intently at the tree canopy. She seemed to be mumbling something under her breath.

“What are you murmuring about?” Kite asked.

“I’m counting how many kinds of owls are over there… 4, 5! Five species, Fourteen owls in total, meow!”

“I’m only able to see one species, but hear six different kinds of calls.”

“Six… six… oh, I see it—six is over there.” Pitou pointed slightly to the left. Kite adjusted his binoculars and scanned the area she indicated, but all he could make out was a blurry outline.

Ah, that’s right. Pitou had the extraordinary night vision of a cat. Compared to her terrifying, innate talent, rudimentary human technology like binoculars and flashlights was utterly insignificant. It was the same ability that allowed her to locate prey in the dark and posed a constant threat to human lives. Kite thought back to the night he and Gon and Killua were running toward the ant nest—Pitou must have spotted them from several miles away, locking onto their position before activating her En . This realization should have sent chills down his spine, but perhaps due to his instincts as a biologist, Kite felt more awe at the brilliance of nature’s design than fear. Besides, he knew that Pitou’s abilities would be invaluable for the work he intended to complete in NGL. He needed to stay focused on the present.

“Can I ask you for some details about them? My binoculars aren’t very effective at night.” Kite pulled out the field notebook he always carried for on-site research.

“Meow, you can’t see properly even with binoculars? You’re so weak.” Pitou nudged the blonde man’s waist with her elbow, expecting some sort of reaction from him, but he remained unfazed. She shrugged. “Ask whatever you want.”

“There’s a bird about 400 meters directly in front of me making a whistling call—like this.” Kite mimicked the bird’s call, sending out two soft whistles toward the forest. Almost immediately, a reply echoed back from the trees, nearly identical to his imitation. “Yes, from that direction—I suspect it belongs to the Glaucidium genus, like the Rusty Pygmy Owl. What color are its feathers?”

“Red and black on the upper back and wings, about 15 cm long, brown horizontal stripes on its belly, and eye-like brown spots on the back of its neck. It has a short, pale yellow beak. You don’t have to ask me one question at a time, Kite. I can easily describe every precise detail of every bird we just spotted—I’m just that much of a genius, nya.” Pitou beamed with satisfaction as she watched Kite scribbling furiously in his notebook. “By the way, that bird call was impressive. I didn’t know you were an expert at imitating birds.”

She realized, once again, that Kite had piqued her interest. She had lost count of how many times this human had made her feel this way. This was truly unexpected for her. At first, she had thought she’d just picked up a disposable plaything, something she would quickly tire of and discard. Yet, every day, she continued to find new traits to admire about him. The surprises he brought seemed endless.

“Just a professional necessity,” Kite replied briefly, his focus still on his notes. “Hmm, despite belonging to the same Glaucidium genus, this one has significant differences from any currently classified pygmy owl species in academia. NGL really is a treasure trove.” He let out a sigh of admiration. “Based on appearance, it seems closest to the Southern Pygmy Owl in genetic lineage… Hmm… Possible evolutionary path…”

A warm, slightly damp breath brushed against his neck. Kite turned his head and found that the cat had leaned over his shoulder, eyes gleaming with curiosity as she read the notes he had just written.

“I think its ancestors flew to NGL from the Azian Continent, meow. Look at its tail feathers.” Pitou pointed at a section of dense handwriting in Kite’s notebook. “They resemble a few other birds you recorded earlier that originated from that continent. Maybe it underwent divergent evolution?”

“Oh, I nearly overlooked that. You made a good point.” Kite kept his tone steady, doing his best to suppress the ripple of emotion inside him. Two weeks ago, Pitou had scoffed at everything that wasn’t related to battle and slaughter. She had known nothing about ecological observation. And now, she was discussing evolutionary biology with him like an expert, even pointing out something he had missed in his notes. Was this due to the chimera ants’ unparalleled learning abilities, or was she truly fascinated by his work? And why did he feel… a strange sense of pride about it? He quickly pushed the thought aside. “Let’s move on to the next one. About 200 meters up to the right—two short chirps followed by a long one—”

“That’s a fairly large owl, with long white downy feathers on its face, reddish-brown plumage on its upper back, and white circular spots,” Pitou described as she continued observing the tall human beside her. From this angle, she could clearly see his profile— his sharp, well-defined features carried a strong yet refined presence . These words came from a type of human book she had confiscated from Gyro’s base, something called novels . She found that they described Kite perfectly. 

His face held an expression of deep concentration, one that was inexplicably captivating. For some reason, an image surfaced in her mind—Kite, gently guiding her hand as he taught her how to write. The memory stirred something within her, an impulse to get closer to him. They were already crouching quite near each other, but it still wasn’t enough. She wanted to touch him again, like last time, to feel his warmth—to embrace him . Yes, that was the word. She vaguely remembered reading about it in the novels: two humans gazing at each other for a long time, then they would embrace, and then… something more. She couldn’t recall the details. Back then, she had only skimmed through the books in pursuit of knowledge that would make her stronger. Those trivial, meaningless human behaviors weren’t worth her attention. Even now, she didn’t fully understand their significance, nor could she comprehend why she felt this sudden urge. 

So despite her desire, she hesitated, held back by a strange sense of confusion. Instead of acting, she simply kept her gaze fixed on the blonde man before her, answering his questions in an orderly manner. As if his focused expression was something worth protecting, worth preserving. And what was he thinking? Pitou’s eyes drifted to the words he had written, curious. He’s probably calculating an evolutionary model for the owls, meow.

Kite had tried to model the evolutionary lineage of the owl species in his mind, but he quickly realized he couldn’t concentrate. Pitou’s slightly childlike voice echoed in his ears as she continued providing detailed information—information crucial to his research. Yet, the more he wrote in his notebook, the closer he felt to losing control. He knew tonight’s field study had yielded extraordinary results, and at least half the credit belonged to the silver-haired cat-ant beside him.

He was acutely aware of how seamlessly he and Pitou worked together—the perfect synergy between her exceptional night vision and his extensive ecological knowledge. It created a dangerous illusion, as if he were not a captive awaiting an uncertain fate in NGL, but rather a free researcher, conducting fieldwork in some vast, untamed wilderness, accompanied by his research partner. Yes. He had imagined Neferpitou at his side as a research partner—or something even closer, something he dared not think too deeply about. That cat was too close now, her presence too overwhelming. It made him want to run far away—and yet, at the same time, it made him want to turn around and—

“Look, what’s that, meow?” Pitou lightly patted Kite’s shoulder, pointing toward a thick tree trunk not far from them. Perched on a sturdy branch were two medium-sized, strikingly beautiful owls. “They were so quiet when they flew over, they almost escaped my ears.”

“Owls have much softer feathers than most birds. It allows them to hunt without alerting their prey,” Kite explained. He hadn’t heard anything unusual—once again, it was Pitou who had noticed first. By now, he was almost used to it. Fortunately, the owls had landed at a distance where he could see them clearly without binoculars.

“That’s Athene navitas , commonly known as the NGL Little Owl. It appears in local folklore, where it’s revered as a symbol of wisdom and benevolence, believed to protect warriors before they embark on battle. Unlike most owls, these have bright, elaborate plumage—perhaps that’s why they’ve become critically endangered in recent years. I never thought I’d see one here… incredible.”

As Kite’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm, his voice filled with excitement, Pitou had a sudden thought.

“You like them?” she asked. “If you want, I can catch one for you right now. It’d be easy, nya.”

“No—don’t.” Kite turned to her sharply, his expression tense with urgency. Seeing that she hadn’t actually moved, he exhaled in relief. “That won’t be necessary.”

“I don’t understand. You seem to want that bird so much—why won’t you let me catch it for you?” Pitou murmured, slightly displeased. She had thought her offer would make him happy.

“What happens after you catch it?”

“That’s up to you. You could kill it and make it into a specimen or keep it as a pet.”

“That would be meaningless. Even though I like them, I’d rather they remain part of nature—free to hunt, fly, and live on their own terms. Even if they were well-fed in captivity and lived longer, it wouldn’t be true freedom. They wouldn’t be happy, and they’d lose their rightful place in the ecosystem.”

“Freedom… what is that, meow?”

Kite initially thought she was mocking him, but when he turned to face her, he met a pair of wide, inquisitive red eyes—genuine curiosity, not ridicule.

She really didn’t know.

“That’s a massive question. Even humans debate endlessly over what freedom really means. If I had the time, I could explain for days and nights.” Kite sighed. “To put it simply…freedom is when a person—an intelligent being with self-awareness—is not constrained by physical imprisonment or invisible doctrines, but holds the ability to think, express, and act according to their own will.”

He couldn’t help but feel a pang of irony.

Here he was, trapped inside a tangible prison. And Pitou…Pitou, despite her intelligence, had been born into a life where her fate was predetermined. Compared to her, the little owls in the trees above them were actually far freer.

“So you’re saying that instead of capturing the owl, letting it go free is freedom?” Pitou asked.

“It’s not that simple,” Kite replied with a wry smile. “But in the context of what we’re discussing right now, you could put it that way.”

Pitou looked as though she only half understood. She pressed her fingers against her chin, lost in thought. Then, as if she had suddenly realized something, she lifted her head and locked eyes with Kite. Her crimson pupils gleamed in the darkness.

“I won’t let you go, nya.”

“I know you won’t,” Kite replied evenly. “That wasn’t a very good comparison.”

“Why not?”

“That owl, even if released, wouldn’t pose any danger to us. But you can’t say the same about me. You don’t know for sure that letting me go wouldn’t be a threat—to you or your King. Isn’t that right?”

“I’m confident I could beat you again,” Pitou said lightly. “But I am curious, meow. If I really did let you go, and I ended up in your hands instead… what would you do to me?”

Kite was silent for a few seconds, thinking.

“I don’t know.”

Pitou found herself at a loss for words. A strange, unreadable emotion churned inside her. The atmosphere suddenly grew cold and heavy.

She tilted her head back. The two NGL Little Owls had already taken flight together, disappearing into the night.

Kite walked to the base of the tree and picked up a few fallen feathers. “The males and females have slightly different feather patterns. But they’re all valuable specimens.” He tucked them into his satchel before glancing back at Pitou. The subtle despondency in her expression made him pause for a brief moment.

“Do you want to explore somewhere else?” he asked.

“No,” Pitou stood up. “Let’s go back.”

-

Pitou watched as Kite carefully laid out the feathers he had collected, spreading them evenly across the stone table. Then, rummaging through the various items she had brought back from Gyro’s base, he pulled out a few small reagent bottles.

That looks interesting, meow. she thought.

The lingering confusion from Kite’s earlier words still hovered in her mind, unsettling her. But her attention was drawn to the colorful little bottles. She decided to set aside those strange thoughts—for now.

“What are you going to do with those feathers?”

“Clean and disinfect them. That way, they’ll be preserved as specimens for much longer.” He opened a bottle labeled 75% ethanol.

“Can I try, nya?” Pitou asked. “After all, I was the one who spotted those birds first.”

“Of course.” Kite shifted to the left, handing her a small, delicate brush. “Use this to remove dust and dirt from the feathers. Then, treat them with the ether solution to eliminate any potential parasites.”

“Hmm, sounds easy.” Pitou sounded confident—after all, she had watched Kite handle numerous specimens before. If he could do it, then naturally, so could she.

However, as she began brushing alcohol onto the feathers, she quickly encountered a problem. The feather was too light, and whenever she applied pressure, either the base or the tip would lift off the table, making it difficult to clean properly. How annoying. When had she ever enjoyed doing such delicate, finicky work? She only cared because of that troublesome hu—

Pitou suddenly turned her head toward Kite, who was standing beside her.

The golden-haired man wasn’t watching the feather at all. He was watching her, his gaze unreadable. The moment she noticed, he immediately averted his eyes, focusing on the table instead.

Pitou’s ears twitched. She had an idea.

“You. Come here and hold the feather down for me.” She pretended to be irritated. “Use both hands. And don’t get in my way.”

“How should I do it?”

“Stand behind me, meow.”

Kite hesitated for a moment, then did as she asked, moving behind her.

“Now stretch your arms out.” Pitou continued. “From either side of me, reach forward to the table.”

Kite followed her instructions without complaint.

Satisfied, Pitou placed the feather in his hands. He held the shaft with his left hand and secured the tip with his right. With that, she was now entirely enclosed within his arms. 

Holding a brush in one hand and a reagent bottle in the other, she continued meticulously cleaning the feather. This is much easier nyow. Kite remained still behind her, steady as a statue. His warmth and breath surrounded her, enclosing her smaller frame completely. It felt so comfortable. And yet, at the same time, her body felt strangely warm—too warm. By the time she finished cleaning and disinfecting all the feathers, she found herself leaning back slightly, resting her cat ears against Kite’s shoulder, the back of her head pressing against his chest. But even that wasn’t enough—she wanted to be closer, just a little closer—

“You had plenty of other ways to hold the feather in place.” Kite’s voice came from behind her. “You did this on purpose. Why?”

Why?

Pitou wasn’t sure how to answer that question.

Because she liked the scent of this human? Because she still remembered the feeling of his hand guiding hers as he taught her to write? Or—

Ah. That novel!

“Hugging,” Pitou uttered a word. “In the novel, two humans would hold each other close—just like this.” She paused before adding, “I want you to hug me.”

The human didn’t pull away. Instead, his grip on her waist tightened slightly, sending a shiver through her body.

“The book said that when two people bring each other joy,” she continued, her voice softer now, “they look into each other’s eyes, then embrace… and then do other things.”

“Other things.”

“I don’t remember what they are, meow.”

“You wanna know?”

Pitou nodded.

“Turn around.”

She obeyed. Before she could react, his lips gently pressed against hers.

Pitou’s mind went blank. 

The sensation was completely new. At first, it was just a tiny flicker of electricity sparking through her body, but almost instantly, it intensified—like a wildfire sweeping across a dry field, utterly uncontrollable. She instinctively closed her eyes, rose onto her toes, and clutched at the collar of his cloak, parting her lips slightly. Her tongue hesitantly brushed against his. The taste of him sent another jolt through her, making her want to explore further—yet at the same time, she wanted to pull back and nip at his lower lip instead.

Is this what humans do after hugging? It felt so good. Too good.

Kite’s arms tightened slightly around her waist, pulling her in just a little closer. All at once, a rush of dizziness overtook her as her weight shifted forward, her feet lifting off the ground. She barely registered the familiar voice calling her name—who was that? She didn’t care. Seizing the opportunity, she released his collar, instead looping her arms around his neck—

And then, suddenly, The warmth on her lips vanished.

Pitou’s eyes snapped open, finding herself gently placed back onto the ground. Kite stood before her, one hand pressed against his forehead, looking visibly flustered. The voice calling her name grew clearer.

She whipped her head around, her sharp glare landing on the figure standing at the entrance—causing the poor penguin to flinch in terror.

It was, again, Peggy.

Damn it. Why did it have to be him—why nyow?

“I-I swear it wasn’t on purpose, Your Highness Pitou,” Peggy stammered, his voice carrying a distinct tremor.

“What is it?”

“Lord Pouf sent me. He says there’s something important he needs to discuss with you.”

“…Got it. I’ll be there soon.”

“I’ll wait here and walk with you.”

Why is this freaky penguin sticking to me like glue? Pitou’s irritation flared, but knowing that anything Pouf wanted to discuss was likely related to the King’s birth, she couldn’t afford to ignore it.

She turned toward the entrance, ready to leave—then suddenly paused, and turned back to Kite, as if something had just occurred to her.

“What comes after hugging is called ‘kissing.’ I remember nyow.”

With that, she strode off with Peggy.

-

Peggy led Pitou through the dim, earthen corridors. After a long walk, they finally arrived at a spacious hall. Pitou peeked inside and spotted Pouf lounging idly in one corner, his expression marked by boredom. Beside him stood a towering, dark-skinned male beast with a hulking, muscular frame.

“You’re so late,” Pouf said, raising an eyebrow. He took note of Pitou’s unusually lighthearted demeanor—she was humming a tune, her steps carrying a distinct buoyancy.

Unable to resist, he added, “Judging by your mood, I assume your little pet has pleased you again?”

“Hm… I don’t really think of him as a pet, meow.” Rather than refuting Pouf’s words, Pitou sounded as if she was questioning herself.

What exactly was Kite to her?

“Then let me rephrase—your little toy ?”

“That doesn’t feel right either.” Pitou tilted her head, then simply waved a paw dismissively. “Forget it. I don’t know.”

Pouf gave her a long, knowing look. “You’d better be careful, Pitou. My instincts tell me that man is far more dangerous than he appears.”

Pitou nodded absentmindedly but didn't take Pouf’s warning to heart. Instead, her attention shifted to the muscular beast beside him.

“So, you’re the third Royal Guard.”

“Menthuthuyoupi. Just call me Youpi,” the muscular beast responded, flashing a grin that looked more like a grimace.

“With all three of us gathered, the next step is the King’s arrival,” Pouf’s voice trembled slightly with excitement. “It will be a glorious birth.”

-

“Hey, would you please stop laughing? You’re just making this even more awkward for me…”

Kite shot an exasperated glare at the chameleon beside him, his tone laced with frustration.

Meleoron, who had remained invisible until long after Pitou and Peggy had left, had finally revealed himself—only to burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“No, no, haha—I swear I’m not laughing at you,” Meleoron wheezed, clutching his sides. “It’s just—my old man! Of all times, he just had to show up right then! Hahahaha!”

Even after catching his breath, a grin still lingered on his face. “But for real, I gotta say—I’m happy for you, man. No matter how you look at it… she is easy on the eyes, isn’t she?”

Kite’s mind flashed back to Pitou’s silver curls, her ruby eyes, the soft warmth of her lips, her petite frame pressed against him.

His breath hitched slightly.

Yes. Of course. Of course she was attractive. But—

“She could kill me whenever she wants,” Kite muttered, rubbing his temples. “And she’s still an enemy to humanity. I shouldn’t have taken her to see the owls. If I hadn’t, none of that would’ve happened. Humans are just…more prone to hormone imbalances at night.”

Meleoron snorted. “Dude, feelings don’t work like that. There’s no ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t.’ You can’t just turn them off.”

Then, with a smirk, he added, “And neither can she.”

Kite raised an eyebrow. “You really think so?”

“Yeah. What, you don’t?”

Kite sighed, choosing not to dwell on it. “Let’s set that aside for now. I’ve re-evaluated the King’s estimated time of birth. Do you have any updates? Have you made contact with the Extermination team? How many are there? Who’s leading them?”

“Whoa, slow down, man. I’ve got plenty to tell ya—just hear me out.”

Chapter Text

“So you think the King will be born in at most a week?” Meleoron asked.

“I haven’t seen the Queen myself—this is just an estimate based on the typical Chimera Ant reproductive cycle and the timeline of the Royal Guards’ birth,” Kite replied. “This is the first time I’ve encountered Chimera Ants that have mutated into such massive forms and primarily feed on humans, so there’s always a chance of anomalies.”

“When I met with Knov, he told me their data suggested thirteen days. Even so, I don’t think they can be fully prepared for an all-out assault in such a short time—let alone just a week.”

“I’ve noticed something from my interactions with Pitou and Pouf,” Kite mused. “The Royal Guards were born in their fully developed forms, already capable of using Nen. They’ve also repeatedly mentioned that the King could survive outside the Queen’s body at this point. If that’s true, then even if Chairman Netero, Morel, and Knov storm the nest and kill the Queen, it won’t matter. The King will still be alive and well. And if his power surpasses even the Royal Guards—who, by the way, will be guarding him with their lives—then launching a full-scale attack without a perfect plan would be nothing short of suicide.

"The Hunters must hold back. They need to lie low and only strike when they have a plan that can actually work. Can you get this intel to Knov and tell them not to act recklessly?”

Meleoron nodded, then asked, “And what about you? Don’t you wanna get out of here and reunite with your friends? They came all this way to bust you out, y’know.”

“Of course I do. But I don’t want to see them die because of me. If that happens, even if I survive, I’ll never be able to live with myself.” Kite sighed.

“Damn bro, you’re too nice for your own good. Like, saint-level nice.” Meleoron gave him a long look, his weird, swiveling eyes shifting as if he was making up his mind about something. Then, slapping his hands on the stone table, he said with firm conviction, “Welp, since I’m already in this deep, might as well go all the way. Their rescue plan might be toast, but yours? Still on the table.”

Kite narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Here’s the thing, I have another ability besides God’s Alibi. It’s called God’s Accomplice.”

Meleoron then proceeded to explain all of his abilities in detail, describing how he could use God’s Accomplice to sneak Kite out of the nest.

“That sounds solid,” Kite admitted, but his tone turned sharp. “But you have to promise me one thing—this plan won’t put your life in danger.”

“Relax, man. My ability to stay outta trouble is second to none.” Seeing the blade-like intensity in Kite’s gaze, Meleoron held up his hands. “Alright, alright—I promise.”

“…Good. I’m in.” Kite’s expression finally softened.

"So, when’s the big escape?"

"The best time is when chaos erupts inside the nest, and the Royal Guards are too distracted to notice us slipping away," Kite said. "So I believe we should escape when the Queen goes into labor and the King is just about to be born. At that moment, there will likely be a swarm of creatures gathering both inside and outside the nest. Everyone will be too busy to keep track of anyone else. No one’s going to notice if two people go missing."

"You think Lord Pitou won’t notice either?"

"She’ll be locked in entirely on serving the newborn King. I’ll be insignificant by then." Kite’s voice was cool, almost unnervingly rational. Meleoron could hear the deliberate detachment in it. "By the time she realizes, we should already be with the extermination team."

"You gonna miss her?"

"Maybe. But that doesn’t matter." Kite frowned. "Why are you so interested in what’s going on between me and her?"

"No hidden agenda, I swear." Meleoron raised both hands in mock surrender, feigning innocence. "I’m just sayin’, it’s wild. She’s never given any of us lower-ranked soldiers a second glance, but with you? She’s downright obsessed—And I don’t mean, like, ‘likes to mess with you’ obsessed—I mean full-on fixated. Can you imagine her kissing anything alive instead of tearing it apart? ’Cause I can’t. And yet, she was all over you—a human—so into it that she didn’t even hear my old man yelling her name. That’s crazy, dude."

"She’s just bored right now, and I’m a convenient distraction." Kite spoke calmly, his gaze resting on the open notebook in front of him. "Let’s see what she becomes after the King is born."

"I don’t know Lord Pitou well enough to judge her," Meleoron admitted. "But you, Kite—I think you should have a little more faith in yourself."

"I’m just stating facts. Confidence has nothing to do with it."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. " Meleoron waved him off. "Either way, it’s your call. I’ll keep a close eye on the Queen, and when the time’s right, I’ll let you know."

"Then I’ll be counting on you."

-

For the next three days, Kite's life in the nest remained uneventful. With the King’s birth drawing near, the three Royal Guards had tightened security and set up an even stricter patrol schedule. Pitou had to spend most of her time standing guard outside the Queen’s chamber, leaving their field excursions temporarily on hold. This unexpected downtime allowed Kite to focus on organizing the invaluable ecological data he had gathered in NGL, ensuring that when he escaped, he could take it all with him.

"I don't like it either, nyah. It’s all Pouf’s doing—he insists we have to be absolutely certain nothing goes wrong," Pitou complained, lazily twirling a strand of Kite’s golden hair between her fingers. It was one of her rare breaks between shifts. Her head rested against his shoulder as he quietly read beside her. Pitou looked completely at ease, seemingly unaware of just how intimate their posture appeared. "I told him to trust in the King’s strength, and he said he does, of course, but we still have to strengthen security to eliminate any possible threats. Ugh, I really think it's unnecessary, and standing guard is just so boring, meow."

"Mm, I imagine it is," Kite murmured absentmindedly, running his fingers through the soft white curls at the nape of her neck as he turned another page. Pitou let out a low purr from her throat.

"Pouf’s not all bad, I guess—just too much of a perfectionist. He overreacts to the smallest things, and sometimes I don’t even know how to deal with him, nyah," she continued, chatting with Kite like they were simply discussing everyday life. "Oh, right, you haven’t met Youpi yet, have you? Compared to Pouf, he’s way more easygoing. I told him about you—he doesn’t seem to have the same hostility as Pouf. He’s just… a little too serious. Kind of dull, really. Talking to him makes me want to take a nap."

Kite chuckled softly, seemingly amused by her remarks.

"Alright, I gotta go," Pitou suddenly sat up after glancing at the clock on the stone table. "Before I leave, can we do that thing again?"

"What thing?" Kite asked, feigning ignorance.

"Kissing."

"Okay." To her surprise, he didn’t hesitate. He turned to her, cupping her shoulders, and pressed a soft but brief kiss to her lips.

"Mm." Pitou looked unsatisfied. She grabbed him by the collar of his cloak and returned a kiss of her own—clumsy but intense, as if trying to find her footing. It ended quickly, but the hunger in her gaze remained. "I want you to kiss me like you did that night," she whispered, licking her lips. "Once our King is safely born, there won’t be any Peggys around to interrupt us. I want you to kiss me like that again. Again and again and again."

"You really like kissing," Kite stated simply. He had the urge to explain the meaning of a kiss in human culture but decided against it. He was leaving soon—there was no need to make things more complicated.

"Why not? It feels good. You liked it too, didn’t you, nyah?" Pitou asked, tilting her head. She didn’t quite understand why she liked such a "human" action, but she didn’t feel like questioning it too much. Maybe it was because she was slowly realizing that it wasn’t just kissing—doing anything with this human made her feel good.

"...Yeah. I did."

"See? So it’s fine, meow." Pitou smiled and stood up, leisurely making her way to the exit. A moment later, she was gone.

The sharp tip of Kite’s pen tore through the soft paper. He frowned, unable to finish his next sentence.

For the past few days, he had been unusually compliant toward Pitou, indulging her every request without resistance. And the reason for that, he realized with a strange sense of unease, was some inexplicable mix of reluctance and guilt.

He must be losing his mind. She was a creature who could kill him at any moment—a monster who had kept him alive out of nothing more than a cat’s fleeting curiosity and a pragmatic belief that he might be useful to her King. 

He told himself this over and over again.

But deep down, there was a whisper—a tiny, insistent voice that said: Maybe she isn’t beyond redemption. Maybe you are changing her. Maybe you should acknowledge how you really feel. Maybe, to her—not to the King, but to her—you are actually important.

Maybe… Maybe…

Kite had never been one to run from his own emotions, never one to deny the truth. But here, in this impossible situation, that very truth had become a burden. His honesty—along with the moral principles he held so steadfastly—had become shackles, pulling him in opposite directions, leaving him tangled in the contradictions of his own heart.

His mind kept drifting back to that interrupted kiss. He didn’t know when exactly he had lost control. Maybe it was when she asked him to hold her. Maybe it was when his hands found the curve of her waist. Maybe it was even earlier than that.

Losing control scared him. And yet, what frightened him even more was that it had felt good. Too good. So intoxicatingly good that it had no place in a situation like this.

But thankfully, it was just a feeling, and feelings wouldn’t last.

He was leaving soon. Once he was gone, everything would return to how it should be. The next time they met, they would be enemies, standing on opposite sides of a battlefield. And whatever had happened here—whatever he had felt in this small, enclosed world—would eventually fade away, buried under time and war.

That was what he told himself.

Then, Meleoron suddenly materialized in front of him.

"It’s time, Kite," he said, urgency in his voice. "The King is about to be born."

-

Meleoron hadn’t expected the King to be born this early. He had been lingering around the Queen’s chambers lately, keeping a close watch. Everything had seemed calm—the Queen’s condition was stable, and the egg inside her showed no signs of movement. He had even heard her whispering to herself, gently stroking the bulge in her abdomen: “Just a little longer.” At one point, he had even started wondering if Kite’s estimate had been too conservative.

Until a sharp, piercing scream nearly shattered his eardrums.

The Queen’s cry.

And it had come two days earlier than Kite had predicted.

This wasn’t a normal birth.

Every chimera ant within and outside the nest heard the Queen’s agonized wails. Their reactions varied—some rushed toward the royal chamber in a panic, some continued hunting as if nothing had happened, and some froze, uncertain of what to do next. For Meleoron, this was the perfect opportunity. He immediately sprinted toward Pitou’s quarters to inform Kite. Activating God’s Accomplice , he extended its protection over Kite as well.

Everything was going smoothly. Until he saw a familiar figure racing past them in the corridor.

It was his father—Peggy—running toward the royal chamber.

Maybe it was the Chimera Ant instincts ingrained in him, or maybe it was simply his own sense of responsibility—but either way, it seemed that Peggy couldn’t bring himself to abandon the Queen in a moment like this. Meleoron felt a wave of concern. He shot Kite a meaningful glance, and Kite, understanding immediately, gave him a silent nod in return.

-

Peggy couldn’t quite understand his own complicated feelings toward the Queen, but he knew one thing for certain—no matter what, he couldn’t leave her to die at a time like this.

He sprinted toward the grand chamber, arriving just in time to witness a gruesome scene: a monstrous figure, his entire body a deep shade of green, radiating an aura of pure menace. With his bare hands, he tore through the Queen’s abdomen, rising slowly from the ruins of her broken body.

His features were sharp, strikingly handsome, his build powerful and imposing. Yet, despite his human-like face, there was something profoundly unnatural about him—something warped and unsettling. His large eyes swept over the chamber with disdain, not with the curiosity of a newborn, but the cold scrutiny of a predator.

He was no child taking his first breath. He was something else entirely.

A demon, summoned into existence.

Their king.

Peggy watched as Bihorn ran past him, rushing to the Queen’s side, the bull squadron leader’s voice filled with urgency as he asked if she needed first aid. A split second later, a thick, powerful tail swept through the air before Peggy’s eyes. By the time he registered what had happened, Bihorn’s head had already been reduced to a pulpy mess, his horns rolling to a slow stop at Peggy’s feet.

The chamber fell into a stunned silence, broken only by the Queen’s ragged, pain-filled breaths.

The King cast a distracted glance at the blood smeared across his tail and clicked his tongue in irritation. “Tch. Filthy.” His gaze landed on a trembling Colt kneeling nearby. “You. Come here and clean it.”

Colt didn’t move. He seemed frozen, as if unable to process the horror unfolding before him.

“I said you,” the King repeated, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Turtle, who had been standing beside Colt, coughed lightly. Peggy’s stomach sank at the sight of him. He and Turtle had always gotten along relatively well—seeing him step forward now, Peggy had a terrible feeling.

Turtle pulled out a handkerchief and smiled in his usual, gentle way. “Your Majesty, I happen to have a handkerchief with me. Please, allow me to clean it for you.”

Turtle’s head was flying through the air within a split second, then landed with a sickening thud. His blood splattered across Colt’s face and speckled Peggy’s feathers.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” The King’s expression remained unimpressed, as if nothing of significance had just happened. “Hurry up, you,” He turned back to Colt. “Kneel. Clean it.”

“…Yes.” Colt numbly picked up the handkerchief that had fallen beside Turtle’s body and dropped to one knee, mechanically wiping the blood from the King’s tail.

The King, seemingly uninterested in the whole ordeal, lowered himself toward Turtle’s body and tore a chunk of flesh from the gaping wound at his neck, tossing it into his mouth.

A quiet, collective gasp ran through the gathered squadron leaders. But no one said a word.

Peggy felt something heavy and molten settle deep in his gut—rage, slow and cold, pressing against his ribs.

“Tch. Disgusting. Tastes like crap.” The King spat out the flesh, expression twisted in mild revulsion. “I’m hungry. Where’s my actual meal?”

“Your Majesty’s feast has already been prepared. Please allow us to escort you.” 

At last, the Royal Guards had arrived. The same beings who once stood untouchable above all others were now kneeling at the King’s feet, their expressions so devout that, to Peggy, they bordered on groveling. The sight made the burning anger in his chest rise dangerously close to the surface.

Even before he became an ant, Peggy had always been blunt—speaking his mind without hesitation. It earned him respect among villagers and students alike, but it also landed him in far too many unnecessary arguments, especially with his son, Jail. He never quite figured out whether this trait was a strength or a flaw, but he knew one thing: it was an inextricable part of who he was. And now, it had followed him into this chimera ant body.

The King gave a small nod to his three Royal Guards. Just as he was about to leave, a small, scornful noise broke through the tense silence:

“Unbelievable. A King, mindlessly devouring his own kind? If anything’s disgusting, it’s you.”

The King halted mid-step.

Slowly, deliberately, he turned around.

The hall was deathly silent.

“Who said that?” His voice was eerily calm, without a trace of anger.

His cold, predatory gaze swept across the chamber, scanning every frozen face. “I asked you—who said it?”

His eyes locked onto Peggy.

Peggy felt his body tense, his anger pushing him to step forward—

For a split second, Peggy nearly stepped forward, the words already forming on his tongue—until he suddenly felt himself being shoved. A strong hand clamped over his beak, cutting him off.

“I did.”

Before anyone could react, the King’s tail snapped forward like a whip, lashing toward where Peggy had been standing.

But the round-bellied penguin was gone.

In his place stood a tall, golden-haired figure clad in white.

A human.

-

"I said it." Kite’s voice was firm.

He dodged the King’s first deadly strike aimed at his skull, but a searing pain shot through his leg below the knee, sharp enough to nearly blind him. Before he could fully process what had happened, the King’s tail lashed out again, forcing him to throw himself backward with every ounce of strength he had left. The wind from the attack grazed past him, a chilling sensation brushing against his skin. Then came the third strike, and the fourth…Kite finally reached his limit. His body froze mid-movement, unable to keep up. The overwhelming pain clouded his thoughts, his vision blurring at the edges—until, through the haze, a white figure appeared before him.

"I could’ve killed this human just now." The King gazed down at Pitou, who knelt before him, his expression unreadable. "Why are you standing in my way?"

"Your Majesty, I do not intend to defy your will. I only wish to take responsibility for my own failure." Pitou’s voice was firm, her head pressed low to the ground. "This human was brought into the nest under my command. It was my negligence that allowed this situation to occur."

"You defeated him, yet you’ve kept him alive. You didn’t eat him, nor did you offer him to the Queen." There was a trace of curiosity in the King’s voice.

"Yes. Because—" Pitou hesitated for the briefest moment. "Because I believed keeping him alive would be of greater benefit to Your Majesty. This human is an expert in biological classification and ecological research. If Your Majesty wishes to expand your domain in the future, such knowledge could be invaluable—"

A loud crack echoed through the hall.

The King’s tail lashed across Pitou’s face, leaving a deep purple bruise in its wake.

The sharp sound jolted what little consciousness remained in Kite. Through the haze of pain, he could vaguely sense that something had happened. He struggled to move, but only his neck obeyed. Forcing his head up, he caught sight of Pitou, her body slightly turned, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. He wanted to say something, but his strength failed him, and darkness swallowed him whole.

"Are you questioning my power?" The King scoffed. "I don’t need anyone telling me what is or isn’t useful to me."

"I overstepped." Pitou wiped the blood from her lips with her sleeve, keeping her head bowed.

"That strike just now—I meant to kill you." The King studied her without emotion. "Yet, you neither dodged nor perished. I acknowledge your strength and loyalty." He cast a fleeting glimpse at Kite’s motionless body. "And this human… managed to evade multiple fatal blows. Not bad."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. May I request permission to deal with him myself?" Pitou asked.

The King glanced at Kite the way one might look at a piece of trash, then shrugged. "Do whatever you want. He’s useless to me."

"But Pitou," Pouf’s voice drifted in from behind the King, his wings fluttering lazily. "Didn’t you say before that if this human tried to escape or cause trouble, you would kill him immediately? And now, here he is, standing in the grand chamber, brazenly speaking such blasphemy against our King. Are you just going to let this slide?"

The King tilted his head slightly, considering Pouf’s words. "Hmm. That statement wasn’t made by the human. But the fact that he appeared there at that exact moment and took responsibility for something he didn’t do… now that is worth looking into."

"More than that, Your Majesty, " Pouf continued eagerly, eyes gleaming with reverence. The King’s passing remark had clearly fueled his excitement. "This human is an incredibly rare specimen. If you consume his brain, it could grant you—"

A sharp sound cut through the chamber as the King’s tail lashed forward, its deadly tip stopping mere inches from Pouf’s face.

"Don’t make me repeat myself. I don’t need any of you teaching me something so trivial." The King’s voice was flat with irritation. His gaze flickered over Pitou, who remained kneeling, her body tense, beads of sweat forming at her brow. "You. Look into this. Then get rid of him."

"Your Majesty, does that mean… until we figure this out, the human can remain alive?" Pitou’s eyes gleamed for a fleeting second.

But the King had already moved past her, striding toward Pouf and Youpi as if he hadn’t heard the question—or simply didn’t care to answer.

"You," he pointed at Pouf. "Take me to eat."

"You," he gestured toward Youpi. "Find me a bigger, brighter place to stay. I’m not living in some cramped, filthy hole."

"Yes, Your Majesty. Please follow me. Your meal has been prepared on the rooftop, awaiting your arrival."

Pouf responded, barely containing his delight at having the honor of personally attending to the King. He immediately abandoned any further discussion about Kite’s fate and gestured toward the upper terrace, where a feast had already been prepared. 

Pitou remained kneeling, the rough gravel beneath her pressing sharply against her joints. The pain was insignificant. The King had not given her permission to stand, so she did not. He had also not issued her any immediate orders, granting her a few brief moments of respite. So, as soon as the King strode away with Pouf, she turned around and crawled over to Kite to assess his injuries.

Blood had pooled onto the floor, soaking through the fabric of his pants, staining them a deep, dark red. Pitou tore open the cloth around his knees with her claws and examined the damage. The exposed kneecap, battered from the King’s attack, was a raw mess of torn flesh and splintered bone. She picked out a few fragments of shattered cartilage—his legs were completely broken below the knees. The bleeding had stopped, at least, which meant his life was not in immediate danger. A quiet sigh of relief escaped her.

She didn’t know what she was doing.

This human had disobeyed her orders, appeared where he shouldn’t have, and even defied the King—her king. By all accounts, he deserved to die. And yet, the fear she had felt when the King was about to kill him… it had outweighed the excitement and joy she should have felt at the King’s birth.

Fear.

It was the first time in her life she had ever felt fear.

What was happening to her?

She thought of what Pouf often preached—that as Royal Guards, they were born and existed solely to serve the King. Their purpose was absolute, unwavering, eternal. His will was their will. His desires were their desires.

And yet, when the King was about to strike Kite down, she had thrown herself in the way.

She didn’t want Kite to die. And she realized that, deep down, it had nothing to do with him being useful to the King’s rule. That was merely the most convenient excuse she could find.

The truth was much simpler: she just didn’t want him to die.

She wanted this human to live, even just for another day, another minute, another second.

That was her own desire. A desire she was never supposed to have.

But she told herself it was only a minor deviation. She was still loyal to the King. She hadn’t disobeyed him—only found a loophole in his words. Luckily, he had not commanded her to kill Kite immediately, so she had bought him a few more days. Maybe, in that time, the King would change his mind?

Pitou clung to that faint hope.

Yet, after witnessing the King today, she wondered if she was simply being naive. She didn’t know how much longer she could stall. And if, next time, the King gave her a direct, absolute command with no room for interpretation, then what?

She refused to think about it.

Ignoring Colt’s hushed, desperate pleas beside her, she focused on dressing Kite’s wounds. She didn’t summon Dr. Blythe, knowing she would soon be leaving the nest with the King. Instead, she settled for a temporary treatment, wrapping the wounds as best as she could. Then, gently, she lifted the human into her arms, careful not to disturb his injuries.

When she turned around, she saw Youpi standing a short distance away, watching her with an expression that almost resembled pity.

“You haven’t gone to find a new residence for the King yet?”

“It’s already decided. The easternmost region of the Mitene Union—the Republic of East Gorteau. I’ve learned that the human ruler there has built himself a massive, extravagant palace. That’s where our King should live.” Youpi’s voice was steady, firm. “I just went up to the terrace to report to him. He said he wants to travel first, to see the world for himself. He wants you and Pouf to accompany him. Meanwhile, I’ll go ahead and scout the palace’s location.”

“I see.” Pitou glanced down at the unconscious human in her arms, his face pale but peaceful, as if he were simply sleeping. “Then… while you’re scouting the palace, could you take him somewhere safe? Somewhere hidden?” She lifted her gaze back to Youpi’s. “Please.”

Youpi exhaled heavily, his massive chest rising and falling with the weight of the decision. “Are you asking me to deceive the King?”

“The King wants answers. He won’t get them if this human doesn’t wake up.”

Youpi stared at her for a long moment before finally nodding. “Fine.” He reached out and took Kite from her arms. “To be honest… I kind of respect him. He didn’t have to show himself back there. Looks like he did it to save someone.”

Pitou let out a soft chuckle, fully aware that it was exactly the kind of thing Kite would do.

-

By the time the Extermination team arrived at the scene with Meleoron and Colt, the chimera ant nest was completely abandoned. All that remained were the barely-breathing Queen and a handful of soldier ants who still remained loyal to her.

“Damn it, we were a step too late.” Morel slammed his pipe against a nearby pillar in frustration.

“This is all my fault. If I hadn’t been so impulsive back then, maybe Kite wouldn’t have—” Peggy trailed off, shoulders slumping in defeat.

“There’s no point dwelling on it now,” Knov said evenly. “We need to focus on what comes next.”

“Where the hell is Kite? Dead or alive, we need to find him.” Knuckle paced the chamber, glancing around in frustration.

“He’s probably still alive—just taken,” Colt responded.

“Oh? And where exactly did they take him?” Knuckle pressed, narrowing his eyes.

“He’s gotta be with the King and the Royal Guards,” Meleoron answered. “Figuring out their exact location is gonna take some time, but I’ll keep tracking them. I never thought he’d put himself on the line like that for us… Man, he’s really somethin’ else—”

“Why didn’t they just kill him?” Shoot cut him off, his voice sharp with suspicion.

“…I’m not entirely sure,” Meleoron admitted. “But I have a theory.”

Now probably wasn’t the best time to discuss gossip, but considering Kite’s life was on the line, Meleoron figured privacy concerns were the least of their worries. So, he laid it all out, telling the Extermination team everything he had seen and everything he suspected.

Chapter Text

Plip. Plip. Plip.

The steady rhythm of dripping water became clearer in Kite’s ears. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was a familiar yet unsettling big face—oversized eyes framed by long lashes and lips that looked as though they had been stitched together. The puppet stared at him with a calm, almost fatigued expression.

That was enough to fully jolt him awake.

Kite realized he was bathed in soft light. The room was spacious and bright, the bed beneath him warm and comfortable, and he was tucked under clean, neatly arranged sheets. A strange sense of tranquility settled over him. Even the floating Dr. Blythe, which would normally be a chilling sight, felt less menacing—though the dull pain that pulsed through his legs still reminded him of his current condition.

He tried to sit up and check his injuries. The movement was small, but it was enough to stir the owner of the black puppet, who had been dozing at the edge of his bed.

"Don’t move," Pitou murmured, placing a gentle hand on Kite’s chest to keep him still. She glanced at the puppet surgeon still tethered to her tail. "The operation isn’t finished yet."

"Ah, I just wanted to sit up."

"I’ll help you." She reached for a couple of pillows and cushions from the other side of the bed, adjusting them behind his back. The small gesture caught Kite off guard. Feeling oddly flustered, he complied, shifting until he found a more comfortable position. 

All the while, his gaze remained fixed on the white-haired feline beside him. Her eyes were lowered, and she looked a little weary. Unlike usual, there was only a faint layer of Nen cloaking her body. Kite suspected it was because Doctor Blythe was draining a significant portion of her energy, keeping her fully preoccupied.

"Where am I?"

"The newly built presidential palace in East Gorteau. It’s the place we found for the King."

Kite flexed his fingers experimentally, feeling the sharp sensation of his fingertips grazing his palm. The clarity of it grounded him, sharpening his awareness even further.

"You don’t have to worry, ”Pitou said, “Your journal and specimen collection—I asked Youpi to bring them along."

Kite had been about to ask her, but she answered before he could. Her voice was unexpectedly soft, almost caring—so unlike the Pitou he had come to know.

"When I felt the King’s terrifying aura bearing down on me, I really thought I wouldn’t wake up again," Kite said softly, meeting her crimson, jewel-like eyes. "You saved me."

"Looks like I did, meow, " Pitou said with a slight arch of her brow, a playful curve forming on her lips.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Her smile vanished instantly, her expression turning serious. "Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?"

Her tone sharpened as she leaned in. "Why did you show up in the Queen’s chamber? Why did you deliberately pick a fight with the King—just to save that penguin? I mean, why would you even want to save that damn penguin?"

Oops. It seemed like she’s actually angry this time, Kite thought. His rational mind screamed at him, warning that he was dealing with an opponent who could tear him apart in an instant. She was upset. He should be on high alert, ready to defend himself.

And yet—he wasn’t.

There was no fear. No fight-or-flight response like when they first met. Instead, her words left him feeling… embarrassed? She didn’t sound like she was interrogating him, it was rather more like…

Pitou didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “You knew the King could kill you with a flick of his wrist, so why the hell did you go charging in there like you had a death wish?”

“I just…” Kite tried to come up with a convenient excuse, but found himself completely tongue-tied. Lying had never been his strong suit to begin with, and after what happened in the Queen’s chamber, any illusion of obedience he had in front of Pitou had been completely shattered.

More than that—he didn’t even understand why Pitou was pressing him so hard on this. She knew the truth already, didn’t she?

…

It finally clicked.

She was more concerned about whether the king would hurt him?

Kite sat in silence for a long moment before finally exhaling a quiet sigh.

“Oh.”

“‘Oh’? What does that mean?” Pitou huffed.

“It means I’m surprised,” Kite said, his gaze shifting to the Doctor Blythe puppet hovering over his injured legs, still diligently at work. “I defied the King’s will. And yet, you didn’t let him kill me—even though I could be a potential threat to his reign.”

Pitou scoffed. “You? A threat to the King? Don’t flatter yourself. His power is beyond human comprehension. Not even the strongest of your kind stand a chance against him. And that’s not even considering the fact that we are here to protect him.”

“Indeed.” Kite nodded. “If we’re talking combat ability alone, I don’t think there’s a single living thing on this continent that could defeat him.”

Pitou’s tail flicked. “What do you mean, ‘combat ability alone’?”

“Because combat ability isn’t always what determines the outcome of a fight.”

Like right now , Kite thought.

If this were purely about strength, he wouldn’t stand a chance against Pitou. But from a different perspective… maybe, just maybe, he’d already won.

Still, he wasn’t the type to make reckless assumptions. He needed something more concrete.

Kite clenched his jaw, deciding to take a gamble.

“Back to your three questions—yes, I know all the answers,” he admitted. “But no, I can’t tell you.”

He expected Pitou to get angry, but she didn’t. Instead, she just blinked at him and repeated, “Can’t tell me, nya?”

“I could make up some story to cover it up, but I don’t want to lie to you.” The words came naturally—he meant them. After she had saved his life once again, he had made a decision to be honest with her, even if he had no idea what his honesty would lead to. “Besides, you’re too smart. You’d see right through it.”

Pitou was quiet for a moment, then said, “Because this isn’t just about you, is it? Peggy… and your other companions. You’re trying to protect them.”

Kite met her gaze, saying nothing. 

Internally, though, he was taken aback by how well she understood him.

“I have no idea how you roped Peggy into this, nor do I know how he suddenly disappeared. But little schemes like that mean nothing in the face of the King’s absolute power. The only reason you’re still alive is that the King was curious about your actions and granted my request to spare you. You should be grateful for his mercy.” Pitou’s voice was calm, almost detached. She shifted slightly on the bed, inching closer to Kite. “If it were anyone else, I would’ve cracked their skull open by now.”

She raised her hands, revealing her claws—razor-sharp and glinting with a menacing sheen. Curling her fingers like talons, she slowly inched them toward Kite’s arms.

“I can reattach your limbs,” she murmured, her ruby-red eyes gleaming with something almost wicked. “But I can just as easily take them apart again. And then put them back. And then tear them off again. There are plenty of ways I can make you talk.”

Her claws hovered just inches from his skin.

Kite simply looked at her. “You wanna do that right now?”

For five long seconds, she held her pose, staring at him in silence—until, suddenly, she exhaled, letting her hands drop to her sides. Then, without warning, she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing herself against his shoulder.

The room fell into a strange, weighted silence, broken only by the steady clinking of surgical tools as Doctor Blythe continued its work.

Kite’s pupils dilated slightly, whether from surprise or something else, he wasn’t sure. The unexpected embrace left him momentarily frozen.

“…What’s this about?”

“Nothing, meow. I’m just glad you’re alive.” Pitou nuzzled her forehead and nose against his shoulder, as if she needed physical contact to confirm that he was real, that he was still here. Only when she remembered he was still injured did she loosen her grip slightly. “The King ordered me to investigate why you appeared in the Queen’s chamber. I told him that I needed you alive to get the answers. So until I conclude my findings, you have to stay alive.”

She knew it was a flimsy excuse, but she didn’t care. And as for what would happen after? She didn’t want to think about it. All that mattered was that Kite was still breathing, still beside her, still around.

She felt his hand lightly patting her back. A gesture of reassurance, or perhaps an acknowledgment of the embrace.

"Are all of these truly the King's orders?" Kite asked again.

"Yes. We, the Royal Guards, exist for one purpose only—to serve the King, obey his every command, and fulfill his every desire." Pitou's voice lacked the usual pride she once carried when speaking of her duty. Instead, it sounded more like she was reciting an established rule.

The words unsettled Kite. Not for himself, but for her. He felt an inexplicable sense of discomfort, even sadness, not because of his own situation but because of the cat beside him—the one he had long regarded as a monster. He wanted to ask her something sharp, something philosophical, something that might shake the foundation of what she believed. But he had to tread carefully. She wasn’t ready for that yet. If he pushed too hard, it might only backfire.

Damn it. When had he started caring this much about her?

“You’re hesitating,” Pitou noted, her sharp eyes catching the flicker of doubt on his face.

“I was just thinking about something you once said to me,” Kite admitted. “Back when we first met, you told me that Chimera Ants, unlike deceitful, hypocritical humans, at least had a sense of honor. That they would never consume their own kind.” He paused. “But I saw the King eat one of his own squadron leaders.”

Pitou frowned. “He is the King. He can do whatever he wants.”

“Can he?” Kite countered.

“Of course,” Pitou said immediately, her voice unwavering—but there was the faintest flicker of something else beneath it.

“Would you do it? Eat one of your own kind?”

“Absolutely not.” Her expression twisted in disgust.

“Because it goes against Chimera Ant social norms, doesn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t do it because I wouldn’t do it.” Pitou’s ears twitched with irritation. “But if the King needed me to… I suppose I would be honored to sacrifice part of myself for him.” She hesitated for the first time. “Why are you asking me this?”

“I’m just trying to understand the difference,” Kite said. “Between you and your King. Why can he break the rules of your kind without question, but you can’t. Doesn’t that align with what you accused humans of being?”

Pitou straightened slightly, pulling away from him, her eyes narrowing with something more guarded, more uncertain.

“You’re acting strange.”

“How so?”

She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was “off” about him, but she sensed a shift in his demeanor. The Kite she once knew was docile, agreeable—never asking questions that left her so disoriented. But maybe this was the real him, and all those moments that had made her feel comfortable before had just been part of a temporary act, a way to buy time.

If that were the case, then—

“You got Peggy involved because you were planning to escape, And the King’s birth was the perfect opportunity. You had this planned all along, didn’t you, meow?”

Her voice was slow, almost airy, as if she had just come to a sudden realization. Her body stiffened slightly, and in her eyes, Kite saw something unexpected—something like hurt.

Kite closed his eyes briefly, as if unwilling to see her look at him like that. But then, he nodded.

“You already know, Pitou,” he said. “You know I don’t want to stay here forever. I’m human. To you all, I’m just… spare food.”

“Spare food? When have I ever treated you like spare food? I just saved your life! ” she shot back.

“Why?” Kite asked again. “I’ve been honest with you, but you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Because…” Pitou hesitated for several seconds. “Because… because you’re different, meow.”

Her voice, initially uncertain, suddenly grew firm.

“ I wanted you to stay whole, to stay alive. I was scared back there. If the King had torn you apart beyond repair, not even Doctor Blythe could’ve put you back together. And then… you would’ve been gone forever.” She straightened, her expression serious. “I won’t let you leave. And I’m going to figure out how you tried to escape before. You won’t get another chance, nya.”

“So,” Kite said slowly, “it’s you who doesn’t want me to leave—not because of the King.”

As if something had clawed its way to the surface from deep within her, Pitou opened her mouth and admitted, “...Yes. It’s not.”

She didn’t understand why she had let those words slip so easily—such blasphemous, traitorous words. But she noticed something shift in Kite’s expression. The tension in his body eased, and when he looked at her again, his gaze seemed clearer, almost like… recognition.

“At least right now , you don’t have to worry about me escaping. I have no interest in marching to my death before the King.” Kite shrugged. “Besides, with my leg like this, I wouldn’t get far.”

Pitou glanced at his injuries. His wounds had been completely closed. “She really is a great doctor,” she whispered, watching the eerie puppet shrink like a deflating balloon, dissolving into wisps of black smoke before vanishing into her tail.

“No, you are,” Kite corrected. “Thank you.”

“I have to go, meow. The King needs me to accompany him on his inspection. Pouf and the others are waiting outside. Just stay here and rest. Don’t wander around.” She turned toward the door, but before she could leave, Kite caught her hand.

“You’re forgetting something.”

Pitou blinked, then seemed to register his words. She dipped her head and pressed a kiss to his lips—a soft, fleeting touch. There was no urgency, no playful teasing, none of the demanding fervor she had once boasted about craving after the King’s birth. Perhaps she wasn’t in the right mood, Kite thought.

As she pulled away, that look was still on her face—that faint, subdued sadness.

And for some reason, Kite felt like the one responsible for it.

He had done nothing wrong. Yet, guilt gnawed at him anyway.

Meleoron’s words echoed in his mind. A question that had lingered within him for so long now seemed to have an answer. But it didn’t help his situation.

—If anything, it only made things more complicated.

-

Pitou walked through the grand palace halls with slow, deliberate steps, her mind weighed down by an inescapable sense of unease.

Kite will leave her one day.  

She had no idea how to make him abandon the thought of escaping. And maybe, even if he did, it wouldn’t change anything—Pouf would kill him, the King would kill him, or worse, she would be ordered to do it herself. What a hassle. Why couldn’t Kite just stay by her side forever? Stay with her, play with her, always, always?

Carrying that lingering sorrow and frustration, she made her way toward the palace’s main chamber, where she found only Pouf waiting.

“Youpi took the King to one of the side chambers for his meal. I wanted to accompany him too, of course, but the King forbade it—said I was always clinging to him and it was starting to get on his nerves.” Pouf spread his wings slightly, looking a little dejected. “So here I am, waiting for their return. And you? How’s your interrogation going?”

“Nyathing useful,” Pitou said, brushing a strand of silver hair from her ear as she shook her head. “All I got was that he really did appear to save Peggy. He won’t tell me anything else.”

“Oh? And you just stopped there?” Pouf arched a brow. “That’s not like you, Pitou. Or wait…” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me—you’re getting attached.”

Pitou shot him an unimpressed look. “How many times do I have to repeat it? He’s not a threat to our King.” She flicked her tail and continued, “I just want to keep him around for a little longer.”

“Ah, your first toy . A precious thing indeed,” Pouf sneered. “But if he’s going to be disposed of eventually, wouldn’t it be better to get it over with? If you wait until the King has to waste his breath commanding you again, then what right do you have to call yourself loyal?” His voice rose theatrically as he clasped his hands together, wings fluttering. “From the moment our resplendent King graced this world with his presence, we—his devoted guards—were meant to forsake all trivial personal amusements! His will is the sole truth, the law by which we must abide! And yet, in his boundless mercy, he has granted you time—precious, undeserved time—with this… plaything. Even a few fleeting hours should be seen as an honor, not an expectation. Surely, you wouldn’t be so ungrateful as to squander such generosity?”

“Spare me the dramatics. I get it, meow,” Pitou muttered, nodding as she propped her chin up with her paws, lost in thought.

“You sound awfully unenthusiastic. Bad mood?” Pouf circled behind her, his voice light and casual again. “Remember, we’ll be accompanying the King on his first excursion soon. I suggest you keep yourself in check. The King doesn’t have the patience for your antics, so don’t go causing trouble.”

Just as he finished speaking, the door to the side chamber creaked open, and the King strode into the hall with Youpi following closely behind. A smear of thick fluid—likely a mix of blood and brain matter—clung to the corner of the King’s mouth. His gaze was vacant, his expression steeped in boredom.

“Your Majesty!” Pouf was at his side in an instant, panic lacing his voice as he saw the King’s evident displeasure. Pitou followed a few seconds later, forcing herself to keep pace.

"Has today's selection failed to satisfy Your Majesty’s palate as well?" Pouf asked worriedly.

Today’s menu had been specially prepared: handpicked soldiers from East Gorteau’s Bureau of Special Operations, 940th Division. They were the nation’s most elite Nen users, trained from childhood under the harshest conditions. Their flesh should have provided a feast fit for their King.

“The taste was fine,” the King replied flatly. “But those humans disgust me.”

He spoke with no anger, only a detached sense of curiosity.

“They’ve committed enough sins to warrant dying a thousand times over. When they kidnapped children or gunned down their own kind for simply crossing a border, did they never once consider that their own fates might be similar? And yet, when they stood before me, they had the audacity to weep and beg for their lives.” The King frowned, genuinely perplexed.

“Pitou, you have spent the most time interacting with humans.” The King called her name. “Answer me—why do they behave this way?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I think that…” Pitou hesitated. The truth was, she didn’t know the answer. She did have experience dealing with a human, but that human was Kite. She couldn’t break him with fear, nor could she find any unforgivable sins to condemn him for.

Kite was… one of a kind.

She steadied herself and tried to reason through the question as best as she could. “would assume, Your Majesty, that humans come in many different kinds. The ones Your Majesty consumed today happened to be those who, having been raised in a brutal system of training and indoctrination, had long since lost any attachment to their own kind. Moreover, because their crimes were sanctioned by their government, they likely never considered themselves to have done anything wrong. When Your Majesty arrived to judge them, they were simply unprepared to face their own fate. That is why they reacted so disgracefully.”

“Oh?” The King turned, heading toward the palace’s grand entrance, the Royal Guards following closely behind. “I thought all humans were like that. Have you met any who are nobler?”

Yes! Kite is—no. No, I can’t bring up Kite now, not in front of the King. That would be too dangerous. If the King were to—

Wait. Dangerous? Dangerous for whom? As a Royal Guard, my only concern should be the King’s safety. Shouldn’t it?

Pitou’s thoughts spiraled, but she forced herself to respond neutrally. “I have encountered humans of varying dispositions, Your Majesty. Some do differ from those Your Majesty consumed today. In fact, the Chimera Ants of our generation, having been born with human genes, exhibit similar differences. Although I am not closely acquainted with all the squadron leaders, from what I have observed, Peggy and Rammot, for example, had entirely distinct personalities and interests.”

“Are you suggesting we are no different from humans?” Pouf interjected, his voice edged with challenge.

“No, of course not.” Pitou was quick to clarify. “Our bodies and physical abilities far surpass theirs. Forgive me, Your Majesty, I meant no disrespect.”

The King paid her no mind. He seemed lost in thought.

By then, they had stepped outside the palace. Without warning, the King extended a hand and pointed westward. Instantly, Pouf and Youpi seized him—and the cat who could not fly—lifting them into the air and carrying them toward their next destination.

-

Despite also being part of the Mitene Union, the wilderness of East Gorteau was starkly different from NGL. As a country heavily focused on agriculture, East Gorteau had far fewer untouched natural forests compared to NGL. The mountains were covered in barren patches of land—attempted farmland, it seemed, but abandoned due to poor soil quality. The flatlands nestled between the mountains were mostly vast expanses of farmland, yet the crops were sparse, the fields looking as though they had suffered from a poor harvest.

As the King soared through the air, he passed over several farmers toiling under the scorching sun. Most of them appeared malnourished, their faces etched with hardship and despair. The King frowned, scanning them with a scrutinizing gaze. Yet, he did not command Pouf to set him down for a meal—perhaps because these sickly, hollow-cheeked humans simply did not look appetizing, Pouf mused.

It wasn’t until they flew over a wooded area that hushed whispers from below caught the King’s attention. He focused his gaze and saw a crowd gathered, watching an execution. Two men in military uniforms stood with rifles raised, aiming at a blindfolded woman and a child with their hands tied behind their backs. The King, having never seen such a spectacle before, was intrigued. Without so much as a word to his guards, he dropped into the center of the gathering.

Panic erupted. The onlookers scattered, fleeing in terror, leaving only the two soldiers and their bound prisoners frozen in place. The royal guards descended after the King, closing the circle around them.

“What are you doing?” the King addressed the uniformed men. They trembled violently, eyes wide with horror. One of them let out a strangled cry—"Monster!"—but failed to utter another word.

"Answer me." The King’s powerful tail lifted, its sharp tip hovering threateningly close to them. "Or I’ll kill you where you stand."

"Please, spare us!" one of the men sobbed, his voice cracking with fear. "W-We were just following orders! This woman was caught hoarding food. According to the law, her entire family must be publicly executed—we were only carrying out our duty—"

Before he could finish, the King’s tail lashed out, swift and brutal. In an instant, their heads were crushed, their bodies collapsing lifelessly to the ground.

The King turned his gaze to the mother and child, who cowered before him, awaiting their fate. Scattered at their feet was the evidence of their so-called crime—a sack of grain, holding no more than a handful of corn kernels and a few shriveled sweet potatoes. They were emaciated, little more than skin and bones, so frail that the slightest breeze might knock them over.

"What’s the point of letting you continue to live in a world like this?"

With another flick of his tail, their bodies were split apart. Blood splattered onto his arm.

The King crouched, scooping a bit of brain matter from each of the four corpses and tasting it. Pitou and Youpi stood by his side in silence, while Pouf stepped forward, eagerly offering to clean the blood off the King’s arm.

The King turned his head and spat out a chunk of flesh he had stripped from the woman’s body. "Utterly vile. I’ve never eaten anything so repulsive. I thought that —" his gaze shifted to the mutilated soldier’s corpse, "—was already revolting. But I didn’t expect human flesh could get this much worse."

"Your Majesty, in East Gorteau, all grain is collected and redistributed under strict regulations. A famine struck this region a few years ago, and food hoarding is considered a crime punishable by the execution of one’s entire family. This woman was likely starving beyond reason, which led her to take such a risk—hence her poor quality of meat," Pouf explained diligently as he carefully wiped the King’s arm clean. "That being said, Your Majesty, I believe East Gorteau’s governance model is highly efficient. Perhaps there is something to be learned fr—"

Pouf never got to finish his sentence. The King’s tail lashed out, striking him across the face, cutting him off instantly. The King’s piercing gaze swept over Pitou and Youpi, his fury barely restrained. 

"This… This is the land you expect me to rule? These are the subjects you have brought before me?"

A wave of raw Nen pressure radiated outward from him, crashing through the surrounding fields and forest like ripples from a stone dropped in water. The golden wheat bowed under the force, and flocks of birds took to the sky in frantic flight.

-

The sheer force of the King’s aura finally yanked Pitou’s drifting thoughts back into reality.

Pouf was right—her mind had been elsewhere all day. She was supposed to be fulfilling her duty as a Royal Guard, accompanying her King as he surveyed his new domain. And yet, she couldn’t focus. Her thoughts kept wandering… far away.

Maybe it was just that today’s journey had been dull. There were no interesting new creatures to study, nothing like the discoveries she had made in NGL with Kite by her side.

After the King’s birth, she had been entrusted with a true responsibility—one unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She knew she should regard it as an honor, something to take pride in. It was her duty, the very purpose of her existence as a Chimera Ant. 

And yet, no such overwhelming sense of fulfillment took root within her. Instead, what she felt was—

A shackle .

She shouldn’t have felt this way. She hadn’t expected to. But it was the undeniable truth.

And somewhere deep inside, a small part of her understood—her life would never return to what it had been before.

She gazed at the four decapitated corpses before her, feeling utterly disinterested. Human affairs meant nothing to her, and as for food, these were nothing but low-quality scraps, hardly worthy of being the King’s snacks. She didn’t understand why the King insisted on sampling them one by one, only to grow enraged.

Nearby, Pouf clutched his face in exaggerated devotion, crying out, “Your Majesty!” Yet, rather than seeming troubled by the King’s wrath, he appeared exhilarated—finally, he had received the King’s strength firsthand.

"Such power behind a single blow!" Pouf sighed with deep admiration. "Ah, truly, what an honor it is to serve such a magnificent King!"

Pitou turned her head slightly, casting a glance at Youpi beside her. The ochre-skinned beast pursed his lips, his expression unreadable. But for a moment, Pitou suspected he, too, found Pouf’s reaction a little much.

Unquestioning loyalty to the King was their duty—that was a given. But Pitou had a vague sense that, compared to her and Youpi, Pouf sought something more from their ruler.

"Your Majesty," Pouf continued, his voice smooth and reverent, "humans are weak and wretched creatures, unworthy of serving you. And this land—this miserable, insignificant speck—is far beneath the grandeur of your reign. Settling here is merely a temporary measure. You need not concern yourself with these trivialities, for we shall pave the way for your inevitable conquest.”

“Hmm.” The King acknowledged him with a brief sound, but there was no trace of interest in his expression. He merely stood there, scanning the bleak landscape once more before his gaze drifted, vacant and unfocused, into the distance.

Pitou observed him closely, and suddenly, she recognized the emotion hidden beneath that empty stare.

Ah , she thought. That’s what it is, meow.

It was emptiness.

She could recognize it because she had felt it before—long ago, when she had first come into the world.

That same hollow void had once driven her to hunt, to toy with humans, to seek out battle after battle. But the satisfaction of victory was fleeting, the thrill disappearing almost as soon as it arrived, leaving behind nothing but the same gnawing emptiness.

Fortunately, before she had gone too long without purpose… she had met that particular human .

…Perhaps, then, she could be of use to her King. She could use her own experience to offer the perfect suggestion, something that might help alleviate his restlessness. Perhaps he, too, could find enjoyment in the same things she had.

“Your Majesty, you seem displeased,” Pitou spoke up, her tone careful but eager. “If you wish, I would be honored to accompany you for a walk through the nearby forest. We could conduct some biological observations—perhaps we may even witness some interesting species interactions, and I could provide explanations along the way—”

A sharp whip-like crack cut her off as the King’s tail lashed across her face.

“ I do not need anyone’s suggestions ,” the King said coolly, his anger still simmering. "This is the second time, Pitou. I detest repeating myself. Next time, you will have more to deal with than just a bruise."

With that, he retracted his tail and gestured for Youpi and Pouf to carry them back to the palace.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Pitou touched her slightly swollen cheek and nodded.

Youpi shot her a glance—one that almost seemed sympathetic—before grabbing her by the collar and lifting her into the air.

Yet, even as they ascended, she still felt a lingering sense of confusion… perhaps even a hint of grievance.

Biological observation had helped erase my own emptiness , she thought. Why wouldn’t the King even try, meow?

Or…Perhaps there were flaws in her reasoning somewhere. 

After all, the King could never be wrong.

-

When Pitou entered the room, she found Kite sitting on the bed by the window, peering outside through the same pair of binoculars she had given him before. The thick, rounded iron bars covering the window forced him to constantly adjust his angle, searching for the best vantage point.

This was supposed to be the time for her second "interrogation"—at least, that’s what she had told her colleagues. But right now, she had no interest in doing anything remotely productive.

“I don’t understand why they put iron bars on the windows of this room,” Pitou mused as she flopped down beside the blond man, immediately tangling her fingers in his long hair. “This is supposed to be a palace, but they make it look like a prison. Humans are so strange, meow.”

“I heard that the president of East Gorteau has been gathering young women from all over, forcing them into the palace to sing and dance for him, night after night, for his entertainment.” Kite adjusted the focus of his binoculars slowly. “This was probably where they were kept.”

Images of screaming figures flashed through Pitou’s mind—those dancers, most of whom had become the King’s (not particularly favored) dessert after his first meal.

“So even if they hadn’t been eaten, they would’ve just remained here, as prisoners of the president?”

“Yes. But also no. As long as they’re alive, they have a chance—however small—that things might change.” He lowered the binoculars and turned to glance at Pitou, immediately frowning. “What happened to your face?”

He reached out, pressing gently against her cheek. “Before I passed out, I saw the King strike the left side of your face with his tail. But now, the bruising and swelling are all on the right.”

“Oh, the old injury has already healed. This one’s new.” she replied nonchalantly, as if it didn’t matter at all.

The blond man, however, clearly thought otherwise. “Why?” he pressed. “Don’t tell me that’s just his idea of fun.”

“It’s because I was disrespectful—I said something that offended His Majesty and angered him.”

Kite let out a sound somewhere between a scoff and a sigh, shaking his head, as though continuing this conversation would be pointless. Instead, he said, “Want me to treat it? I checked earlier—there are some medical supplies in this room.”

“No need. It’ll be gone soon, nya.”

His hand trailed up from her cheek, running through her silver hair before gently squeezing one of her cat ears. The feline closed her eyes, purring contentedly.

“By the way,” Kite shifted slightly to the left, gesturing for Pitou to sit where he had been. “Take a look at this—45 degrees upward, about 500 meters away.” Knowing that Pitou didn’t need binoculars, he simply gave her the coordinates.

Following his direction, Pitou immediately spotted a nest perched on a distant tree branch, housing a group of stunning little birds.

“They look like some kind of swallow, meow?”

“Correct. Their scientific name is Hirundo orientema . They’re mostly found in East Gorteau, which is why they’re commonly called the East Gorteau Swallow. Due to the famine in recent years and the excessive hunting that followed, they’ve become increasingly rare in the wild. And among their dwindling numbers, this particular group is even more exceptional—because normally, swallows are black and blue, but these ones—”

“Have silver-white feathers and red markings around their eyes.” Pitou pointed to herself. “Just like me.”

“That’s right. Quite the coincidence.” Kite chuckled. “I need a favor.”

“Name it!” She perked up, a hint of enthusiasm creeping into her voice.

“I can see their coloration, but they’re too far for me to observe the finer details,” Kite explained. “I was hoping you could help—maybe lure them closer by catching some of their preferred prey. If I can get a closer look, I might be able to determine whether they qualify as a distinct subspecies.”

Pitou blinked once before immediately springing to her feet. She left the room and slammed the door behind her. Twenty seconds later, she returned, clutching a handful of some… unidentifiable mush.

“I caught some bugs,” she announced proudly.

Striding toward the window, she stretched her arm through the iron bars, palm open. Beside her, Kite readied his notebook and pen.

Not long after, a silver-white bird took flight from the distant nest, fluttering down to perch on Pitou’s outstretched hand. It began pecking eagerly at the disgusting mass in her palm.

“Wow, its colors really do match mine, meow.”

“Exactly.” Kite kept his head down, scribbling in his notebook. “Maybe that’s why it let its guard down around you so quickly.”

Pitou gazed at the tiny creature hopping in her palm, then turned back to Kite. “You’re going to tell me to let it go, aren’t you? Well, I’m not going to listen this time.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Kite replied, his focus still on his notes. “You can do whatever you want with it—eat it, cage it, pluck all of its feathers, whatever. But,” he paused, jotting down a final word, “if it really is a new subspecies, I’m naming it after you.”

Pitou’s ears twitched, and her eyes gleamed like rubies. She smiled and said, “Why, meow? Just because of its coloration?”

“Yeah. It’s a lot like you. Except that ,” Kite glanced up, meeting her gaze with an almost solemn expression, “right now, it’s on the other side of the bars. It’s in danger, and you could crush it at any moment—but it is still a free little bird.”

“…And?”

Kite’s grip on his pen loosened slightly as he exhaled. Then, with quiet sincerity, he said,

“I hope that one day, you can be like this swallow, too.”

Something inside Pitou quivered, A tiny tremor, buried deep, almost imperceptible. The faint sensation vanished as quickly as it came, leaving her grasping at confusion, unable to understand what had just struck her.

“What are you talking about?” Her ears flattened slightly as a hint of irritation creeping into her voice. “You’re the human I captured! You’re the one locked up here, unable to escape. I can do whatever I want to you, whenever I want. Why are you making it sound like it’s the other way around?”

She couldn’t comprehend it—did this human have no awareness of his own situation?

And yet, despite her words, she still hadn’t tightened her grip around the little silver swallow in her palm. By now, the bird had nearly finished pecking away at the crushed insects she held.

“You’re right,” Kite admitted, nodding. “But that doesn’t change the way I see it.”

Pitou didn’t know how to respond. She pursed her lips, trying to make sense of it all, but no matter how hard she thought, the answer remained out of reach.

Just then, a soft, melodic chirp echoed in the air. She turned to look—the little silver-feathered, red-marked East Gorteau swallow, soon to be named Hirundo orientema neferpitou , let out a small call, as if in gratitude.

Pitou’s fingers curled slightly, making a half-hearted attempt to tighten her grip. But rather than trapping it, the motion only helped the bird slip more easily from her grasp. It fluttered its wings and took flight, soaring past the iron bars. And as it disappeared into the boundless sky, two figures—one human, one cat-ant—watched in silence, their gazes following it until it was gone.

Chapter Text

July 7, 2000. Outside Peijin, the capital of East Gorteau.

The presidential palace, once filled with music and laughter, had fallen into an eerie silence over the past few days. Pouf leaned against the third-floor balcony, gazing quietly at the King seated in the center of the presidential reception hall. His King held a book titled An Introduction to Chess Strategy in one hand and a black rook in the other. He let out a disdainful scoff at the chessboard before him. Across from him, the human opponent trembled uncontrollably.

Noon was approaching, and the cicadas had begun their relentless song. A harsh ray of sunlight hit Pouf’s large butterfly wings, refracting a shimmering iridescence.

That so-called national chess champion was already on the verge of collapse, Pouf mused. The King had effortlessly shattered his rhythm, and it was only a matter of time before the human shrank into a pitiful, quivering heap—only to be executed without mercy.

At the thought, a flush of admiration colored Pouf’s face. He was proud of his King. Once again, the King had demonstrated an intelligence far surpassing that of mere humans, a testament to his rightful claim as the ruler of the world. Not only that—his composed demeanor, his supreme confidence, and the sharp, calculating glint in his eyes were utterly mesmerizing.

And yet, despite the thrill of witnessing his King’s superiority, an unsettling feeling lingered in Pouf’s mind. He couldn’t quite explain it, but he did not like the King’s sudden interest in human intellectual games.

His instincts told him—this was a variable. And variables often heralded danger.

Pouf had always expected that, alongside leading the Chimera Ants to global domination, the King would inevitably develop certain pastimes. He had no objections to this—he simply hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. He had assumed that, in the days following their settlement in Peijin, the King would discuss with his Royal Guards how best to use the human population of East Gorteau to expand their army and territory.

Yet ever since the King’s return from that fateful inspection, he had shown little interest in anything. When Pouf brought up strategic plans, he was dismissed with a wave of impatience. Instead, the King had ordered him to find books—anything to pass the time. Pouf had swiftly gathered every book from the President’s private collection—though there weren’t many, and most of them were nothing more than Ming Jol-ik’s own self-indulgent manifestos. Clearly, the man had never been much of a reader.

As expected, the King skimmed through a few pages before tearing the books apart one by one in frustration. Pouf, acting quickly, had rushed to the restricted section of the city’s library, gathering numerous books on politics, history, and philosophy, believing that these would aid the King in understanding the inner workings of human society—an essential step toward conquering and ruling over them. Thankfully, the King did not reject these books.

Pouf had thought that was the end of it. With the King no longer plagued by boredom, the Royal Guards could focus more efficiently on planning their next moves. But as it turned out, this was only the beginning.

The following morning, the King sat in the center of the palace, his expression unreadable as he read through a book titled The Divided Nation-State: A Modern History of East and West Gorteau . Pouf stood attentively beside him. Then, a dull thump echoed through the chamber—the unmistakable sound of a book hitting the floor. Pouf turned his head sharply to see Pitou, her arms full of books, hurrying toward the exit.

“What are you doing?” Pouf immediately stepped forward and questioned her.

“Meow~ Just cleaning out my books. These ones aren’t useful, so I was about to throw them out,” Pitou answered matter-of-factly.

Pouf recalled a past conversation with her—she had once mentioned how the abandoned Gyro Base in NGL was a treasure trove, filled with all sorts of interesting finds, including numerous banned books. Unlike Pouf, who had only visited once and taken a few books on music theory and art history before leaving, Pitou had been relentless in her curiosity. She had raided the archives again and again, eagerly searching for every strange and unusual book she could get her hands on. Not only that, but she had even persuaded Youpi to pack up her entire collection—along with that human—and bring them all the way to East Gorteau. Poor Youpi. That must have been quite the exhausting journey.

“I told you, didn’t I? Quality over quantity. You hoard a bunch of junk, and now you have to clean up your own mess. Isn’t that just a waste of effort?” Pouf smirked, arms crossed.

“Hmm… It’s not that bad. It’s just that we… I mean I… didn’t find these books very interesting, so—” Pouf was about to question her slip of the tongue—we? Who's “we”?—when a voice behind them stole their attention entirely.

“I’m interested.”

They turned around to find the King, holding one of the fallen books, flipping through its pages at lightning speed.

From this angle, Pouf could clearly read the book’s title: Gungi: Champion Matches from Past World Tournaments.

This was the first time they had ever heard the King clearly use the word interest to describe something. Both Pouf and Pitou widened their eyes in unison, caught off guard by the statement.

“Interesting,” the King muttered as he flipped through the book. “I’ve never seen a book without words or any descriptive images before. What are these strange symbols supposed to represent?”

“This is a human intellectual game, Your Majesty,” Pitou explained. “Humans have many similar board games, but this one happens to have originated and flourished in East Gorteau. It is perhaps the most complex of them all, with the most possible moves and variations. Most board games are played on a flat surface, but since you can stack pieces in Gungi, this game requires an additional layer of three-dimensional thinking as well.”

“This book states that the same person has won the last five world championships—a competitor from East Gorteau named…” The King flipped forward a few pages. “Ko…mugi? What a careless name. A prodigious blind girl who won her first title at the age of eighteen… Born into poverty… Frequently summoned to the palace by President Ming Jol-ik as a symbol of self-sufficiency, a disabled individual who succeeded without state assistance…” The King skimmed through the rest of her introduction before abruptly snapping the book shut.

Then, he spoke again. “Tell me—if I can defeat this so-called world champion in a matter of days, at what is supposedly the most complex of all board games, wouldn’t that prove that even in the realm of intelligence, where humans pride themselves the most, I am still unrivaled?”

“There is nothing you need to prove, Your Majesty,” Pouf replied smoothly. “You were always meant to reign supreme. The world already lies beneath your feet.”

Looking back now, Pouf regretted his choice of words. Perhaps he should have responded differently, because his statement had clearly triggered a rebellious streak in the King. Almost as if to prove a point, the King demanded that the Royal Guards immediately gather all books related to board games—especially Gungi—and insisted on playing against the reigning world champion, Komugi.

That alone had been enough to send them all into a frenzy. Just locating the girl had cost them a considerable amount of effort. Pitou had to use Ming Jol-ik’s puppet to remotely command the military to conduct a city-wide search, only to discover that Komugi didn’t live in Peijin at all—her home was in a remote mountain village on the western border. Fortunately, East Gorteau’s strict population control policies made it easy to retrieve every citizen’s address, movement records, and contact information from Bizeff’s database. With that, they were able to place a call to Komugi’s parents via their landline.

Upon hearing the voice of their beloved leader, Komugi’s parents were overwhelmed with excitement, promising that they would send their daughter to the capital at once. However, as their village had no airport, she would have to take the train—a journey that would take at least four or five days. They worried whether their leader could wait that long.

As it turned out, their dear leader wasn’t particularly inclined to wait. For days, he had been meticulously reconstructing famous Gungi matches in the palace, studying them over and over again. Pouf had never seen him so wholly focused on a single task before. Then, as the King once again laid out one of the ingenious plays crafted by the five-time world champion, Pouf witnessed a surge of aura—an overwhelming burst of aura fueled by sheer determination.

“I will defeat this human named Komugi,” the King declared, his gaze locked onto the board with a fixation that could only be described as obsessive.

Yes, yes, Pouf had no doubt that his King would triumph in the end. However, the train was slow, meanwhile the King’s competitive energy resulted in immense Nen pressure, and needed an outlet. To pass the time while waiting for Komugi’s arrival, the Royal Guards captured several national champions of other board games and brought them into the palace for the King to practice against—if nothing else, to keep him from growing restless.

If all went according to schedule, their Gungi champion would make her grand entrance this afternoon. At that thought, Pouf wrinkled his nose. The King had been improving at an astonishing rate these past few days. No matter how difficult the game, crushing a world champion should be child’s play for him. And yet, that ominous premonition still lingered at the back of Pouf’s mind, refusing to dissipate.

And the root of it all? Pitou’s damned pile of books. That wretched cat and her insatiable curiosity! Pouf seethed internally. If only she hadn’t insisted on dragging those accursed texts into the palace…

Speaking of Pitou… Pouf slowly turned, his gaze drifting toward the distant clock tower. There, perched atop the highest point in Peijin, Pitou sat in perfect stillness, her breathing steady, tail gently swaying behind her. With her back facing the palace, Pouf couldn’t see her expression. He had no way of knowing her current state of mind or whether she was growing weary after maintaining her En at full capacity for days on end.

If he were to be honest with himself… he supposed he was somewhat concerned.

What had surprised him the most was the flicker of discontent that had flashed across her face when she was assigned this duty. That had been unexpected. True, maintaining En for extended periods was both tedious and exhausting, but since it was the King’s command (at Pouf’s suggestion), Pitou should have had no right to complain about anything. After all, ensuring the safety of the capital—and, more importantly, their King—was their highest priority as Royal Guards.

What audacity she had, to feel anything other than privileged?

Pouf’s thoughts inevitably turned to that human.

It was strange. They had been in Peijin for seven days now, yet the human side had yet to make a move in East Gorteau. Even Pitou’s so-called pet had been eerily compliant these past few days.

At times, Pouf found himself wondering—just what had transpired between Pitou and that human?

Not that he cared about the human himself. To Pouf, all humans were the same—food, inferior creatures, occasionally useful as tools for the King’s dominion. And yet, his heightened sensitivity to emotions told him that something was amiss. Ever since their arrival in East Gorteau, Pitou had seemed… distracted. There was a lingering heaviness in her demeanor, subtle yet undeniable. While she still wore her usual cheerful smile in front of them and the King, Pouf saw through it immediately.

And if that human was the cause of this shift—

Then it would be very dangerous.

This was precisely why Pouf avoided unnecessary interactions with humans. Prolonged contact with them always led to danger. Yes, they were weak, pathetic creatures, but they were also insidious, deceitful, and self-serving.

To eliminate any potential risks, Pouf should kill that human immediately. With Pitou preoccupied, now was the perfect opportunity. He was certain Pitou would understand—what he did was always in service of their shared purpose: the King’s supremacy, the Chimera Ants’ future.

But what would her reaction be? Indifference? Sorrow? Blinding rage?

Pouf hesitated, weighing his options. In the end, he chose to stay his hand—for now. After all, Pitou had been right about one thing: at present, that human posed no direct threat to the King. The danger Pouf sensed was still just a formless premonition, an instinct beyond rational explanation. Acting impulsively could fracture the trust among the Royal Guards, which would ultimately be more detrimental to the King’s reign than any single human ever could be.

Still… he couldn’t help but wonder—why was it that neither Pitou nor Youpi could experience the same boundless joy he felt in serving their King? Every moment in the King’s presence was a privilege, a blessing beyond comparison.

If only he could share this rapture with his fellow Guards.

“Checkmate.” Pouf heard the King’s voice behind him, calm and composed. “You should have surrendered ten moves ago. Why did you dare drag this out? Did you think I would make a mistake?”

The chessboard trembled slightly, but aside from that, there was only silence.

“Speak.” The King rested his hands on his knees, his tone so casual it directly contradicted the overwhelming pressure in his gaze—as if the man before him wasn’t even worth addressing seriously. “That’s an order.”

The so-called chess champion finally lost all control and let out a shrill scream. A moment later, his head was obliterated by the King’s sweeping tail.

“So annoying.” The King tossed the black pawn he had been holding onto the board and stretched his arms. Pouf immediately rushed forward, delicately wiping the bloodstains from the King’s tail with a handkerchief.

“This was even easier than I expected. Boring.” The King’s dissatisfaction was clear. “Where’s that Gungi champion? She’s still not here?”

“The train is scheduled to arrive at around 1:00pm. She will be here soon, Your Majesty,” Pouf answered smoothly, already clearing the board and preparing a fresh set. “In the meantime, Your Majesty is scheduled to meet with the Squadron Leaders who have come to pay their respects. I will be overseeing their Nen training, and if Your Majesty wishes, you may also discuss future strategies with them. With their aid, we can refine the next—”

“I’m granting you full authority to handle that.” The King interrupted him bluntly, plucking the Gungi record book from a nearby stack.

“Your Majesty, we still need to—”

“Did you not understand what I just said?” The King’s voice dropped, and in an instant, the sharp tip of his tail came to a sudden halt—just a centimeter from Pouf’s forehead.

Without so much as lifting his gaze from the board, the King placed another piece.

“Just inform me when the Gungi champion arrives. Until then, do not disturb me.”

-

"Apologies, His Majesty is currently unavailable to see you. If you have any questions, direct them to me."

"Huh? Oh… I just wanted to ask… what kind of Nen ability Your Highness thinks would suit me…"

"I need you all to infiltrate Pusha’an City in West Gorteau… Flutter…"

Kite stared absentmindedly at the drooling puppet soldier across from him. From his position in the corridor, he could hear most of the conversation taking place downstairs. His legs had regained some mobility but were still far from fully healed. To conserve his strength, he hadn’t activated En , but he could still make out that the speakers were six Squadron Leaders and Pouf. The contents of their discussion were within his expectations—nothing particularly noteworthy.

He stretched his limbs slightly. Pitou had left him some freedom, not locking the door but instead stationing two puppet guards—former palace sentries—at the end of the second-floor corridor. If he got too close, they would immediately alert her.

Since Pitou had been assigned to sentry duty, Kite hadn’t seen her in days. As for the reason behind this sudden arrangement, the fragmented conversations he had overheard suggested that it was because the King had become obsessed with board games, requiring tighter security around the capital—which Kite found amusing.

Standing guard for days and nights without rest… wouldn’t that exhaust her? The thought crossed his mind before he could stop it. Probably not, he reasoned. Chimera Ants had a vastly different physiological makeup from humans; they likely had no real need for sleep. But then… why was he even wondering about this? Wasn’t her absence supposed to be a relief? Finally, she wasn’t hovering around him, bothering him—it should have been a much-needed reprieve.

Kite shook his head and stepped back into the room, shutting the door behind him.

And yet, solitude no longer felt as enjoyable as it once did.

He pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down, but his mind drifted to the last moment before Pitou had left. That lingering kiss. The way she had hesitated as she pulled away, her eyes lingering on him—no smile on her face, just an unreadable expression, lost in thought. He had wanted to ask her what she was thinking. But in the end, he remained silent.

Kite picked up his pen, trying to push the thought away.

At that moment, the door creaked open slightly.

His body tensed, nerves on edge. He took a few seconds to consider whether to summon Crazy Slots—but that would alert Pitou.

The gap in the door widened. Kite kept his gaze locked on the entrance. No shadow, no visible presence. Not even the faintest trace of Nen.

"It's me."

Now, Kite could finally see his uninvited guest. The figure raised his two-fingered hand and gave him a casual wave.

"What the—?!" Kite barely held back a shout, lowering his voice into a sharp whisper. "Are you out of your mind? Showing up here like this—do you have a death wish?"

"Relax, man. My aura's blending with one of the Squadron Leaders downstairs. they won't detect me even if they use En ." Meleoron scratched the back of his head with a grin. "Did some crash training with Knuckle and the others for this mission—whew, exhausting, but totally worth it. I guess you could say it's an upgrade of my ability. Doesn't last forever, but it should be enough for a quick chat. Sorry for the jump scare. Took me forever to find this place."

"This is still way too risky." Kite let out a breath, his posture easing slightly, but his frown stayed in place. "What the hell are you doing in Peijin?"

"Obviously, I came for you." Meleoron plopped onto the bed like he owned the place. "You ever heard that human saying? A drop of water shall be repaid with a gushing spring. That day, you threw away your shot at escaping—hell, almost got yourself killed—to save my dad. Figured the least I could do is return the favor."

"It was nothing." Kite waved a hand dismissively, then hesitated for a beat before adding, "I don’t have a father, and I’ve always envied those who do. That day, you’d just gotten yours back—I think I understood how much he meant to you. We're friends. It was the right thing to do."

Meleoron clasped his hands together, lips slightly parted, looking as though Kite's words had moved him yet again. This made Kite a little uncomfortable, so he hurriedly changed the subject. "Speaking of which, how is your father doing?"

"Oh, he’s doing great. He’s staying in Rokario with Colt and the others. Morel helped register them as protected magical beasts, and now he’s their official guardian. So yeah, no more immediate danger for them." Meleoron paused before adding, "Oh, and before I came here, I met up with Gon and Killua. Those two were worried sick about you. I told ‘em not to freak out, that you were definitely still alive and probably not doing too bad." His protruding eyes darted around the room. "And, well—looks like I was right."

"Depends on how you define ‘not doing too bad’. I'm still a prisoner. And the King’s expecting Pitou to kill me eventually. Nevertheless, " Kite let out a slow breath before meeting Meleoron's gaze. "You were indeed right about a lot of things."

Meleoron burst into laughter, flashing him an I told you so kind of grin. "The Extermination Team’s wrapping up the final prep. Once things are in place, I’ll get you out of here. But, uh…" He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "What’s the plan with Pitou?"

"...What do you mean?"

"I mean, you wouldn’t just leave her behind, would you?"

Kite went quiet for a long moment.

"That’s not up to me," he said at last.

"Yeah, alright, whatever you said…Ultimately that’s your problem to deal with, not mine." Meleoron shrugged. "I just sneak in now and then, check on you, swap some info if possible. But next time, it won’t be this easy. The Squadron Leaders won’t be coming back to Peijin after getting their Nen abilities, so this trick of mine won’t work anymore. I’ll have to go back to the basic Perfect Plan —which means no breathing, no talking, no showing myself. And strolling into the palace like today? Yeah, that’s off the table."

"Then how do we exchange information?" Kite asked. "I’d like to contribute however I can. It’s better than just sitting around and waiting."

Meleoron’s eyes flicked toward the notebook on Kite’s desk. "Old-school style. Works every time."

Kite caught on immediately.

"You got a lighter?" Meleoron asked.

Just as Kite was about to answer, footsteps echoed from the corridor, growing louder. He raised a hand in a quick "shh" gesture, signaling Meleoron to stay silent.

A second later, the door swung open with a thud.

Youpi stood in the doorway, holding a food tray. His expression was blank.

"Lunch time," the hulking beast announced flatly.

Kite instinctively scanned the room—Meleoron was already gone.

"I thought I just heard something from inside this room," Youpi said, placing the food tray on Kite's desk. "Was someone else here?"

"Oh, I was… talking to the birds outside the window," Kite replied smoothly. "By mimicking the call of a female finch, I could lure the males onto the windowsill for easier observation and recording. Unfortunately, your entrance was a bit too loud—they all flew away."

"Hah. Interesting." Youpi glanced at Kite’s notebook. "I flipped through your logs when I brought you here. Didn’t expect there’d be so much to study about this stuff."

Kite opened the food tray—corn, cucumbers, cold noodles, fish, and soup. The Royal Guards had never mistreated him when it came to meals. He wondered what the King would be eating today. Most likely some high-ranking officers from East Gorteau’s elite intelligence division. Logically, he should empathize with them, yet recalling the news reports he had read about this country left him with complicated feelings.

"Thanks," he said at last.

"Don’t thank me. If you want to thank someone, thank that cat." Youpi shook his head. "I wouldn’t bother going out of my way to prepare food for a human—she asked me to do it."

"I know." Kite hesitated, then, after a moment of thought, couldn’t help but ask, "How is she?"

"Hmm." Youpi furrowed his brow. "A little weird."

"What do you mean?" The blond man put down his spoon and straightened up slightly.

"It’s just… she doesn’t seem like herself."

Kite considered the hundred possible reasons for that statement—and found that ninety-nine of them pointed directly to himself. Opting to pursue the one remaining possibility, he said, "Maybe she’s just exhausted. Felines like to nap during the day, and keeping En up is physically draining. Doing it nonstop for days and nights… anyone would be worn out."

"You humans worry about the most pointless things. She’s perfectly capable—"

"Just because she can do something doesn’t mean she likes it," Kite interrupted, carefully keeping his voice steady and measured, tamping down the impatience rising within him. "Besides, exhaustion makes any creature more prone to lapses in focus. Isn’t that a security risk for your King?"

"…That is a good point." Youpi stroked his chin, seeming to consider Kite’s words. He said nothing more, simply turning and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

Kite let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples. He had no idea how much weight his words would carry—but thankfully, it was easy to talk to the straightforward, even-tempered Youpi. If it had been Pouf, he’d probably be dead by now.

But why? Was it because he worried about her? Did he miss her? They hadn’t even been apart for that long. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Was he really that eager to see her again? What was he becoming? Some lovestruck teenage boy? No. That wouldn’t do. He needed to stay rational.

"He’s gone. You can come out now," Kite said.

But the room remained silent—no response. It seemed Meleoron had already slipped away unnoticed during his conversation with Youpi.

Kite scanned the room, searching for any trace of him. After a quick sweep, he finally found a crumpled piece of paper tucked under the bed.

Unfolding it, he read the message:

“Had to leave first. See you tomorrow. Keep an eye on the window.”

-

The blazing midsummer sun beat down on the city’s rooftops. Pitou shifted her legs, adjusting her posture, and wiped away the fine layer of sweat gathering on her forehead. Tilting her head back, she watched as a silver-gray East Gorteau swallow traced circles in the sky, heading west.

328. She counted silently. It was the 328th bird she had seen fly past since she began her post here.

The swallow soared toward the forest’s edge, only to be snatched mid-air by a goshawk that swooped in from the side.

329. Pitou tracked the goshawk as it carried its prey northward, and once again, Kite’s words about comparing her to a bird echoed in her mind. These past few days, every bird that passed overhead seemed to remind her of that conversation, and each time she recalled it, she felt a strange, painful tug in her chest. She was still utterly baffled, struggling to grasp what Kite had meant—why had he seen her as the caged bird? Why had she caught a trace of pity, even sympathy, in his gentle human eyes? What did that sparrow, darting so effortlessly through the sky above her, have that she lacked?

330. Pitou stood up and reached out, swiping at a sparrow that had been circling above her. The bird dodged effortlessly, diving before returning to its original position not far from her, chirping as if mocking her. The cat’s tail flicked in irritation. She crouched, preparing to leap and crush the infuriating little creature—only to stop herself in the next second.

She wasn’t allowed to leave this pillar. Her duty was to maintain her En and stand guard over the capital, a task she had now been performing for almost a week. Pitou watched as the sparrow fluttered further and further away before slowly lowering herself back onto the stone ledge of the clock tower.

"Freedom… what is that, meow?" The question flashed through her mind. The last time she had asked what it was, she was in the forests of NGL, standing beside Kite after they had finished observing owls. He had given her a serious explanation, yet she—perhaps failing to fully understand—had tossed back a foolish response. Not much time had passed since then, and yet, to Pitou, it felt like a memory from a distant past. Maybe it was because, lately, she found herself often longing for those days in NGL—the days she had spent with Kite.

Kite.

It felt like she hadn’t seen him in forever. Even though she could sense his presence precisely through her En , it wasn’t enough. She wanted to see him every day, to talk to him, to do field research together, to watch him fill his journal with notes, to kiss him… There were so many things she wanted to do with him. But instead, she was confined to this narrow perch, not even five meters in diameter.

This was the King’s command—his supreme will, absolute and irrefutable. Until he issued another, she could do nothing but stay here.

But even the King’s orders could only restrain her body. They could not stop her from longing. From worrying. From thinking.

How was Kite doing? She had asked Youpi to look after him—hopefully, he had kept his word. Hopefully, Pouf hadn’t tried to make trouble for him. Hopefully, the King—

She wasn’t supposed to think this. But she couldn’t help but hope that the King wouldn’t remember Kite’s existence.

Why couldn’t she rest? Why couldn’t she go see him? Why couldn’t she—

331.

—Why couldn’t she be like that magpie soaring in front of her, flying as far as it pleased?

Because this is your purpose as a Royal Guard. This is your fate. You should accept it with gratitude. A voice echoed in her mind—it sounded like Pouf’s. Stop asking questions. They are nothing but human trickery. They will only lead you deeper into confusion and offer you nothing in return. The voice continued. Stop thinking. Just obey. Thinking will only bring you pain.

Thinking will only bring you pain. Thinking will only bring you pain…

“Neferpitou!”

A rough voice snapped her out of her daze. Judging by the tone, he had been calling her for a while, only resorting to her full name when she failed to respond. Turning around, she saw Youpi hovering in the air, his wings beating steadily.

“I’m here to take over your shift. Go get some rest.”

“Meow?” Pitou’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Really?”

“I asked the King if I could swap shifts with you. Told him my En isn’t as wide-ranging as yours, but it’s good enough. He said, ‘Whatever. Don’t bother me while I’m reviewing the game records.’” Youpi landed on the domed roof of the clock tower. “Come back and switch with me in 24 hours.”

“You… why are you doing this?”

“Because I’ve had nothing to do in the palace besides delivering food to that human, like you asked.” Youpi shrugged. “Pouf is with the King, and you’ve been stuck here doing the most exhausting task, day after day. It doesn’t sit right with me.” He frowned slightly. “Besides… you seem… sad. I was getting worried about you.” He hesitated before adding, “I think Pouf is too, in his own way.”

Pitou unconsciously raised a hand to her face, uncertain of what expression she was making at that moment.

“It’s because of that human, isn’t it? You want to see him.” Youpi’s voice was calm, matter-of-fact. “I think he wants to see you too. Go.”

“...Thank you.” Just before leaping down from the rooftop, Pitou cast her fellow guard a grateful glance and murmured softly.

-

Pitou leaped down with feline grace, landing lightly in the garden at the entrance of the presidential palace. She was just about to turn and dash inside when a sudden clatter caught her attention from not far behind—it sounded like a wooden stick hitting the ground.

Turning around, she saw a frail human girl sprawled on the pavement. White-haired, seemingly in her early teens. It looked like she had accidentally fallen, with a cane lying discarded not far away. Her eyes remained tightly shut as her hands fumbled against the ground, struggling to push herself up—but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t manage to stand.

A blind girl… A blind prodigy…

Pitou’s mind flashed to the image of the King poring over game records in recent days, and realization dawned. She quickly strode over and lifted the girl up.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to get in the way, Master!” The girl sniffled, trembling all over, though her voice rang out loud and clear. “I was summoned by the Beloved Supreme Leader Ming Jol-ik to play Gungi! I promise to do my best!”

“You’re Komugi, aren’t you?” Pitou asked as she guided the girl up the steps.

“Eh? Your excellency know my name? Ahh… that’s so embarrassing.” Komugi let out a sheepish laugh, scratching at her messy braid with her free hand. “Then… may I ask for yours as well, master?”

“Neferpitou. Or just Pitou, meow.” Pitou glanced at the childish face beside her, then added, “Don’t call me master.’”

“Hmm… Miss Pitou!” Komugi chirped cheerfully. Pitou didn’t particularly like that title either, but seeing how it was probably impossible to make the girl drop honorifics altogether, she let it slide.

As they walked, Komugi tapped her cane against the palace’s tiled floor, feeling her way forward. "Miss Pitou, where are we going?" she asked.

"The third floor." Pitou glanced down at the small girl beside her. Thinking about the previous champions—who had likely already been reduced to unrecognizable piles of flesh—she felt an uncharacteristic pang of unease. But she still held onto Komugi’s hand and led her up the stairs. "Our King is waiting for you, meow."

They walked in silence for a while before Komugi suddenly lifted her head, as if something had just occurred to her. She turned toward the feline escort with a small smile.

"Miss Pitou… Your footsteps sound very light."

Pitou blinked in surprise. "You can hear that?" Even in shoes, her steps were so quiet that no normal human should have been able to pick them up.

"I’ve been blind since birth, so my hearing is sharper than most. I can hear how eager you are just from the way you walk." For the first time since she arrived, Komugi spoke without a hint of fear. "Miss Pitou, are you in a hurry to see someone? Could it be… Dear Leader?"

Komugi did not get an answer from Pitou, but she noticed that her tall companion’s pace grew even quicker—until they finally reached the doors of the presidential reception hall.

Pitou cast a quick glance into the chamber. Pouf was staring intently at the King, while the King’s eyes remained locked onto the game board—neither of them acknowledged her presence. She lowered her gaze to Komugi, then turned away. Just before breaking into a sprint, she spoke her final words:

"We’ll meet again, right nya?"

"We will, Miss Pitou." Komugi nodded, then lightly tapped her cane against the floor and took a measured step forward.

"Five-time Gungi World Champion, Komugi." The King finally looked up, placing his last piece on the board, his eyes radiating a chilling intensity. "I have been waiting for you."

He had meticulously prepared the board—not just a challenging setup, but a deadlock, a constructed checkmate based on Komugi’s own recorded plays. Now, he would have the champion herself attempt to break a problem with no solution. If she failed, she would become nothing more than a smear of flesh on the floor.

"Dear Leader, I cannot see. Could you describe the placement of the pieces for me?"

To Pouf’s absolute horror, the King actually complied, reciting each placement without hesitation, entirely ignoring his aghast expression.

As she listened, Komugi’s body began to tremble involuntarily. A shimmer of unshed tears welled up in her sightless eyes.

She spoke softly, "Dear Leader… You have studied my games with such care. Through you, I can see it—the version of myself from years ago, the one who played in the world championship finals with sharp instincts and unrestrained passion. I… I’m truly moved."

With that, she reached into the bowl beside her, picked up a piece, and placed it onto the board with composed confidence.

-

Kite shut his journal and tossed it back onto the desk. His injured leg, still healing from the King’s blow, itched as the bone fused back together. He stretched it slightly, then shifted under the blanket, intending to rest for a while.

But before he could settle in, the door suddenly swung open. The next second, a familiar slim figure pounced into his arms. The bed creaked under the abrupt weight.

Kite let out a quiet gasp of surprise, his right hand instinctively reaching up to land atop those soft, silver curls. Without thinking, he began to run his fingers through them. Yet, Pitou simply buried her face deep into his chest, panting heavily, making no other move.

They remained like that for an unknown stretch of time. Only when Kite felt the rise and fall of her breath steady against him did he place both hands on her shoulders and gently shake her.

Pitou lifted her head, stray locks of silver hair falling over her eyes. Her gaze was impossibly clear, free of any trace of sorrow. “While I was keeping watch on the clock tower, I counted 331 birds today, meow!”

“That’s impressive.” Kite smiled. “The view up there must be incredible.”

“I’m going to take you there today too! I finally have time, meow~”

“Alright.” He nodded. “Wherever you want to go.”

Chapter Text

Pitou extended her claws, gripping onto a thick branch above. With a light push off the trunk, she leaped effortlessly to a higher perch, where the foliage was denser and provided a good resting spot. She glanced downward, momentarily concerned that Kite’s injured leg might slow him down. However, she quickly spotted him not far below, wedged between intersecting branches, using both hands and feet to reach for a young pine twig with spore-laden cones—likely to take back as a specimen.

Feeling mischievous, she gave a playful shake to a nearby branch, sending a cascade of mature pine cones and needles tumbling onto Kite’s head. She couldn't hold back her laughter. Kite glanced up at her, shook his head in mild exasperation, but said nothing in reproach.

“Need some help, meow?” Pitou teased, perching cross-legged on a rather thin branch, as if deliberately showing off her superior sense of balance.

“No thanks.” Kite brushed off the pine needles and cones, carefully tucked the collected twig into his satchel, then gripped a branch above him. With a practiced twist of his body, he climbed up with ease. “I’ve spent years conducting field research in the wild. Climbing trees is a basic survival skill. This is nothing. A little injury won’t slow me down.”

Pitou let out a satisfied hum and continued her climb toward the canopy.

“We’re almost there, meow! From the top, we can see all of Peijin and the surrounding mountains. The view must be amazing!”

Back when she was stationed on the watchtower, Pitou had already taken note of this vast red pine forest in the western outskirts of Peijin. The towering pines stood tall against the mountain slopes, and among them, one particularly massive tree stood out, its trunk ancient and wide, a clear sign of having withstood centuries of growth. Its peak soared higher than even the city’s tallest clock tower. She had guessed it would be an excellent spot for birdwatching.

—Or maybe not. So far, during their climb, they had barely seen any traces of birds, though they had startled quite a few squirrels. But that hardly mattered. What mattered was that her human was here with her, moving alongside her. She hadn’t felt this lighthearted in a long time. The lingering confusion and melancholy that had weighed on her for days were buried beneath the sheer joy of the moment.

She knew their time was limited—the day would pass in the blink of an eye. But even if all they did was sit at the top of the tree, watching nothing, saying nothing, she wouldn’t consider it a waste.

Pitou felt the trunk beneath her hands growing thinner, while the canopy above spread wider—signs that they were just a few steps away from the very top. She brushed off the pine needles clinging to her clothes—both of them were damp from passing through a layer of mist—then pushed aside the final cluster of dense branches.

The view was spectacular! Below a thin veil of drifting mist, Peijin City resembled an orderly collection of concrete blocks, and the rolling green hills stretched far into the horizon. Reaching the very top with ease, Pitou spread her arms wide and let out a joyful cry before settling herself onto a sturdy branch near the edge of the canopy. She cleared away a few stray twigs, then pressed her palm firmly against a thick patch of pine needles, flattening them to make space for Kite.

“Careful,” she heard Kite’s voice behind her. Turning back, she saw him cautiously maneuvering around the center of the canopy, slowly making his way toward her. “There’s a bird’s nest here.”

“Oh!” Pitou shifted into a crouch, curiously peering toward the hollow at the heart of the treetop. She noticed that the pattern of the branches and needles there was indeed unusual. Leaning in a little closer, she caught sight of several tiny, fluffy white bundles—newborn chicks, likely only a few days old. She reached out and prodded one of the downy creatures with her finger. The chick only ruffled its wings slightly, showing no further reaction—probably because she wasn’t offering it food. Finding this somewhat dull, the cat lost interest and plopped back into her seat.

“This nest is extremely well-hidden. Judging by its structure, it likely belongs to a peregrine falcon. They typically nest on cliffs in mountainous regions, so this is the first time I’ve come across one in a tree,” Kite commented as he settled down beside her, pulling out his journal and carefully sketching the nest and its occupants. “Peregrine falcons are one of the most widely distributed birds of prey in the world. If the population here in East Gorteau is exhibiting nesting habits different from those found elsewhere, it’s worth documenting.”

Pitou tilted her head, silently watching as Kite’s pen moved across the pages, capturing the details of the nest and the young birds. “I know peregrine falcons prey on smaller birds, meow. Could that be why we didn’t see many other birds on our way up?”

“Good observation.” Kite left some space below his notes. “Would you be willing to write down your thoughts here after we get back? I think your insights would add a lot of value to this journal.”

“Of course, nya~” Pitou clapped her hands together excitedly. “I practiced my writing a lot while you were unconscious! You’re going to be blown away by my improvement, meow!”

Kite raised an eyebrow. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Oh! I just thought of another reason. The reason they built their nest on this massive pine tree is that it's the only place tall enough for them around here. The surrounding area is mostly low hills, and the buildings in the city aren’t high enough—plus, they’d risk being hunted by humans, meow.”

“Mm, I think so too.” Kite nodded approvingly, once again leaving a few blank lines in his journal for Pitou to add her own notes.

A passing cloud carried a cool breeze, ruffling Pitou’s silver hair. She couldn’t help but look around at the vast openness stretching beneath the sky. Taking in the breathtaking view, she murmured, “We’re so high up nyow! This is the tallest tree I’ve ever climbed.”

Kite glanced at her, pressing his lips together as if hesitating over something. After a moment’s thought, he finally said, “Yeah, it is pretty high.”

“What’s wrong, meow? You clearly have something on your mind.” Pitou wasn’t fooled by his reluctance. “You’ve been to places even higher than this, haven’t you? Tell me!”

“Well… if you insist.” Kite sighed. “Have you ever heard of the World Tree?”

“Hm, the name sounds kind of familiar, but I don’t remember much. Maybe I saw it mentioned briefly in some encyclopedia, meow.”

“This red pine we’re sitting on—judging by how long it took us to reach the top—I’d estimate its height at around 100 meters. That already makes it an anomaly in this region,” Kite explained. “And yet, even so, it’s not even a tenth the height of the World Tree’s sapling—the only World Tree on the currently known continents.”

Pitou’s ruby-red eyes widened, her tail swishing excitedly. She was clearly intrigued. Kite, watching the way her long, curled lashes framed her bright eyes, continued, “I’ve climbed that World Tree before. The first time was with my mentor, Ging Freecss. Later, I went alone a few more times for field research. Did you know that because of the tree’s enormous height and massive trunk, the entire tree has become its own distinct ecosystem? The mammals and birds that live there are completely different from the species found on the mainland, both in appearance and behavior. Especially this one species of bizarre-looking giant bird—ah, by the way, the World Tree is incredibly difficult to climb. Every year, only about 1% of climbers manage to reach the top safely. But I think if you ever tried, you’d find it ridiculously easy.

“Anyway, those giant birds—or rather, giant creatures—look somewhat like birds on the surface, but their skeletal structure, hunting methods, and reproduction are so unique that scientists have been unable to classify them into any known family or genus. There’s still an ongoing debate about how to name them, so for convenience, they’re just called ‘World Tree Birds.’ Personally, I think they‘re probably not from any of the six known continents. About three years ago, I actually lived inside one of their nests for two months to observe their behavior. Sounds terrifying, right? But honestly, it wasn’t a bad experience at all. They looked after me, even leaving extra food for me sometimes. I recorded a lot of footage—”

Kite suddenly paused, as if realizing something. “Oh. Sorry, am I talking too much?”

-

He didn’t know why, but naturally, almost instinctively, he found himself talking at length—sharing stories of his past travels to extraordinary places around the world with the silver-haired cat-ant beside him.

He would explain to her the scientific classification of certain plants, discuss with her the underlying causes of specific animal behaviors—things that had long become a habitual part of his daily life. But recounting his travel experiences—sharing those memories—felt entirely different. It felt… personal.

What was he anticipating?

“No, keep going.” Pitou reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. “Keep talking, I want to hear more! You recorded the footage—then what happened?”

The golden-haired man’s gaze remained steady. “The footage captured their intelligence and gentleness. It disproved some of the widely spread rumors—believe it or not, there were plenty of people who claimed that World Tree Birds were a threat to humans and needed to be exterminated. Using that excuse, they hired professional hunters to climb the tree and poach their eggs—each one worth billions of Jenny… Humans can be extremely greedy sometimes, right?”

“Not all humans are bad,” the cat murmured.

Kite was sure he had heard that sentence before—perhaps long ago, something he himself had once said. The corners of his lips curled up.

“I’m glad you think that way. Anyway, my colleagues in conservation later told me that they used my research as evidence to successfully petition for the World Tree Birds to be classified as a protected species under the Hunter Association. That footage is now kept in the Museum of Natural History in Yorknew City—the organization that funded the expedition. It’s also being played on a loop as an educational documentary in their exhibition hall, so—”

“Yorknew City… I’ve heard of that place before.” Hearing a name that sounded familiar, Pitou couldn’t help but interrupt. “That name appeared many times in the banned books confiscated by the NGL government, meow. Some people say it’s the center of the world.”

As if recalling something, Pitou tilted her head slightly, her gaze drifting toward the distant horizon, where the setting sun slowly bled into the meeting of sky and earth, staining it in a somber shade of orange.

“What is the world like in their eyes, meow? Why would they say… that Yorknew City is the center of the world?”

What was her world like? Kite wondered. The dark, stifling nest in NGL. The vast, empty palace in East Gorteau. The Queen. The King. Everything for the King.

Then came an intruder—an uninvited guest, and everything he brought with him.

What had he brought her?

"The center of the world depends on where its edges lie, and that varies for every intelligent being. However…Yorknew City is indeed an all-encompassing, diverse metropolis. You could say it is the heart of modernity, a microcosm of human civilization’s progress. Any story that has ever unfolded in some corner of the world—perhaps you can find its counterpart in Yorknew City," Kite followed along with her train of thought.

"Modernity? Do you mean communication tools like cell phones? Pouf gave me one to use for contacting the Squadron Leaders. It’s quite convenient, meow."

"That counts, but it’s much more than that… Oh, right, I just thought of something that might interest you," Kite said, noticing the feline’s half-understanding expression and deciding to change his approach. "Yorknew City's subway system extends in every direction, connecting all different boroughs. However, despite its vast network, keeping the subway tunnels clean has proven to be a challenge. Many rats live there now."

"Rats! Those are my favorite toys!" The cat’s curious eyes sparkled. "But… What is a subway?"

"Your books didn’t mention it? It’s a means of transportation common in densely populated metropolises. You can think of it as a kind of train—oh, right, I forgot, you’ve never ridden a train either."

"I know what a train is, meow! I read about them in books, and I even saw one while flying to East Gorteau with Youpi and the others. It looked like a really long caterpillar."

"Yes, you can think of the subway as a giant caterpillar that burrows underground," Kite chuckled. "Because the subway system covers such a vast area, studies have shown that rats in different sections have evolved into distinct groups that speak different 'languages' and can’t communicate with one another. There are even rumors that MTA workers have spotted mutated giant rats—almost as tall as humans—in certain subway stations… But before they could even process what they were looking at, the rats had already vanished."

"What a shame, meow," Pitou sighed. "Humans have such slow eyesight and reaction speed. If it were me—"

"If it were you, we would’ve caught it for sure—I mean, you would have," Kite caught himself mid-sentence, startled by his own Freudian slip, but continued as if nothing had happened. "The United States of Saherta once put out a call for research teams to investigate the phenomenon. I was very interested in it. But around the same time, the Kakin Empire issued a commission regarding the Chimera Ants. Weighing my options, I chose to go to NGL instead."

For eliminating potential threats, for preventing disaster, for humanity, he went to NGL with a mission—

"And then you met me," Pitou scoffed.

—But he failed.

Sitting beside him now was the biological hazard itself, the perpetrator of a humanitarian disaster. A Chimera Ant. A cat. All these reminders emphasized how different they were, how impossible they were.

But then, the cat asked absentmindedly, "So, how do you get to Yorknew City, meow?"

She just asked a question like that? Did it mean anything?

"From here?" Kite said. "Ha. There are no direct airships from East Gorteau to Yorknew City. This country severed diplomatic ties with the United States of Saherta long ago. You’d need to take a car to West Gorteau first—probably an off-road vehicle, since you’d have to cross mountains, maybe even wade through some shallow streams."

"What a hassle, meow." Pitou ran her fingers through her hair and leaned in closer to him.

"Look on the bright side—you won’t have to deal with agents lying in ambush at the border to snipe illegal crossers. I’m guessing they’ve all ended up in the palace’s food storage… or on the King’s plate. The border is probably empty now."

"No idea, meow. Was that Pouf’s territory, or Youpi’s? Who cares about those humans? Even if I ran into them, it would only take a second to kill them." The cat idly played with her fingernails, her tone distracted.

Kite gazed at the sunset, its light no longer harsh, and continued, "So, you could also go like a professional Hunter—without using any vehicles. Just by jumping and running, scaling mountains and crossing rivers, traversing the border to reach the capital of West Gorteau. But you’d still have to find the airport—maybe even take the subway if you’re unfamiliar with the routes—before boarding an airship straight to Yorknew."

A warm sensation spread along his side.

At some point—perhaps while he was explaining how to board an airship to Yorknew City—Pitou’s left hand had quietly slipped around his waist, tightening around his right arm as she rested her head gently against his shoulder.

Kite turned his head slightly, and his lips just barely grazed the white, downy fur of Pitou’s cat ears. The cat’s breathing was even. Her expression utterly relaxed.

"It still sounds like a hassle. Why must it be an airship, meow?"

"Because it requires crossing the sea to reach an entirely new continent." Kite shifted his arm slightly, giving the cat beside him room to slip her other hand into the space around his waist. Her paws clasped together, allowing her to nestle even closer, holding him in a seamless embrace.

"The sea…" Pitou repeated softly. "An image that always appears in books. But I’ve never seen it, meow."

"You remember the river at the border between NGL and Rokario right?" The faint rustling of fabric on his shoulder told him the cat had nodded. "The sea is somewhat like that, except all rivers eventually flow into the sea, making it far larger, far wider, and far deeper than any river. No matter how exceptional your vision is, you wouldn’t be able to see its end or its depths. The sea holds everything, nurturing all life. Your ancestors and mine—we all came from the sea."

A distant, plaintive cry echoed through the air. He recognized it as the call of a waterbird, perhaps a heron searching for food. It reminded him that dusk was settling in, and soon, the birds would return to their nests.

"I…"

Kite had never seen Pitou at a loss for words. He held his breath, waiting silently for her to continue.

"I… want to see the sea." Pitou finally said. "I also want to go to Yorknew City, to see the center of the world in human’s eyes."

Relief washed over him, his mood soaring sky-high. Maybe he should recommend Coney Island’s beaches to her—it would be the perfect balance of nature and civilization. But before he could speak, he noticed her brows furrowing, as if she had said something she wasn’t supposed to.

"What’s wrong?"

"But I need to serve the King here. That is my responsibility. Until our King conquers the world, I shouldn’t have any other thoughts. I... least of all, shouldn’t have any personal desires. Perhaps only when his territory extends that far will I be able to accompany him to inspect that highly developed human city."

His elation burst in an instant, like a balloon popping with a sharp snap.

Disappointment. Frustration. Powerlessness.

Maybe he should never have hoped for anything in the first place.

Did it mean anything? It meant nothing. A momentary glitch in a program meant nothing. She was still just a precise instrument designed to serve the King, and instruments like that had a remarkable ability to self-correct.

Kite should have followed his anger—should have pulled his arm free, should have shifted away from her. But he didn’t move. He let the warmth of the cat beside him continue to envelop him. To anyone watching, he would have looked like he was simply spacing out.

"Does your King ruling the world truly matter that much to you?"

The cat blinked. "I’ve never thought about that question. I just… naturally assume it to be true."

Then think! his anger roared inside him. But he also knew—just as the sun rose in the east and set in the west, just as fish swam and birds soared—"We must serve the King until he rules the world" was a fundamental directive embedded in the Royal Guards’ very genes. It was common sense to them. That wasn’t something a single anomaly could easily overturn.

Besides, how many times had she already defied her genetic programming to save him? How could he dare to ask for more?

—But this was no longer about himself. Or rather, it wasn’t only about himself. He had to try.

"Silent again, meow." Pitou poked his waist lightly with her elbow when he suddenly fell quiet.

"Alright. Let’s say your King succeeds in wiping out all humans and unifying the world. What happens next?"

"I will continue to serve him. If he passes away, I will serve his successor, the heir born from his selected mate, until the day I die."

"So… is this the life you want?" Kite met Pitou’s gaze, searching for that flicker of confusion, trying to untangle it. "To live for the King, to die for the King. To be born only to follow orders—no second path, no other choices, no freedom. Do you know what we call people like that in human society?"

Kite had expected her to get angry. If she did, he was prepared to push further, to make his point clear, to strip away the illusions and reveal some ugly truths. He would tell her that, in his view, even by the standards of a slave master, her King was hardly a good one. Maybe she would lash out at him, snarl, or even tear him apart. He didn’t care. He needed her to understand—

"…But I’m not human." She wasn’t angry. Her voice was soft, almost… hurt.

Kite’s heart wavered. In an instant, he discarded all the confrontational thoughts he had lined up. He pulled his right arm free from her embrace, only to wrap it around her shoulders instead, giving her a gentle pat.

"No, you’re not," he sighed. "But that doesn’t matter. What matters is—what kind of life do you truly want to live?"

"What kind of life do I truly want to live?" Pitou echoed the question back to herself. She had just said it aloud earlier, yet now she recoiled from it.

This time, she fell into a long silence.

Kite chose not to press her further. He didn’t want to see her hurt… or struggling. Maybe it was necessary, but he still didn’t want to see it unfold before him. Instead, he simply ran his fingers over her cat ears and along her back, his touch slow and steady.

The treetop was left with only the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirping of fledglings.

They remained that way, leaning against each other as time slipped by—until Kite heard two familiar bird calls. Pinpointing their source, he nudged the cat beside him.

"Look, the peregrine falcon has returned to feed its chicks."

Pitou’s eyes had been half-closed—he wasn’t sure if she had been dozing or meditating. But as she opened them, she let out a quiet breath, her expression noticeably lighter. That eased Kite’s mind, if only a little.

In the glow of the setting sun, the two parent falcons flew straight toward them, each clutching several pigeons in their beaks. Behind them, the hungry chicks began to stir, their cries growing louder.

"Five pigeons... Adult peregrine falcons are incredibly efficient hunters," Kite remarked. He pulled out his field journal, preparing to take detailed notes on the feeding behavior of the tree-nesting falcons he had observed today.

The parent falcons showed no fear of their presence, swooping past them to land directly in the nest behind them. Without hesitation, they began tearing into the pigeons, feeding the impatient, open-mouthed chicks.

"Meow~" Pitou watched intently as the chicks fought over scraps of pigeon meat. "I want to hunt pigeons too! Tell me, if I competed with a peregrine falcon, who do you think would be the better hunter? We could measure it by who catches more pigeons within the same time frame, meow! I really want to challenge them!"

"You’d have to make a deal with them first," Kite said with a chuckle as he continued jotting down notes. "Maybe next time we come birdwatching, you can try."

As if it had understood their conversation, one of the parent falcons let out a sharp chirp-chirp, then casually tossed a still-flapping pigeon toward Pitou. She quickly reached out and caught it.

"What does this mean, meow?"

"Who knows," Kite shrugged. "Maybe it's a sign of mutual respect between hunters."

With ease, the cat severed the pigeon’s throat, and in less than five minutes, all that remained in her hands was a clean-picked skeleton.

"Not bad, meow." She licked the blood from her fingertips, looking thoroughly satisfied.

Still a dangerous wild animal, Kite thought.

But an adorable one.

-

By the time they returned to the room, night had already fallen.

"Do you want to write something in it?" Kite laid his journal flat on the desk, flipping to the page he had set aside for Pitou.

Before he could react, Pitou had already darted forward, plopping herself onto the chair and snatching up one of the scattered pens from the desk. She leaned her elbows against the surface, practically sprawling across the desk, surrounding the journal like a protective barrier. Then, licking her lips in concentration, she tightened her grip on the pen and began writing in the blank space Kite had left for her, taking the task with utmost seriousness.

Her posture made Kite chuckle. "If you feel self-conscious, I can sit by the window and let you write in peace."

"No, you have to watch me write, meow!"

"Alright, alright." Kite grabbed a stool from the vanity and sat beside her. "But with you nearly lying on the desk like that, it's hard for me to see what you're writing."

"I tried different ways, but this is the only posture that lets me write the neatest letters," Pitou explained. "Can’t you just lean in closer?"

Kite shifted his stool forward, his right arm brushing against her elbow. His long hair fell over her shoulder, and Pitou suddenly hesitated, pausing mid-stroke.

"What is it?" Kite asked.

"I just remembered the first time you taught me how to write." Pitou continued writing as she spoke. "Back then, I couldn't even write my own name properly, meow. You stood behind me, guiding my hand to show me how to hold a pen."

"I did."

"You held my hand, and we were so close, but the moment I started to feel something, you pulled away. Just like when we kissed—except for that one time when that idiot Peggy interrupted us—you always know exactly when to stop."

Her tone was light, as if she were recounting a simple fact. But to Kite, it sounded like an accusation.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he watched as Pitou set down the pen, grasped the journal by its edges, and lifted it up to proudly display her work to him.

Her handwriting was lively and expressive, yet precise and controlled—unmistakably her own. Impeccable grammar, perhaps even more methodical and precise than his own note-taking habits, and finally, a bold signature, accompanied by a small doodle of a cat.

Kite couldn’t help but feel a fresh wave of astonishment at the terrifying learning ability of this Chimera Ant.

"It’s beautiful." He gazed into the cat’s ruby-red eyes and smiled. "I mean—your handwriting. It’s beautiful."

"Sometimes I wonder," Pitou looked at him, a hint of longing in her eyes. "If we didn’t stop, what would've happened?"

As she spoke, she released her grip on the journal, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. Then, she leaned forward, wrapped her arms around the blond man’s neck, and captured his lips in a deep, unrestrained kiss.

They kissed like this for a while. Kite reached out tentatively to touch her waist, and she took the cue to step closer, straddling his lap. Due to their height difference, she had to tilt her head up, her hands nearly dangling around the man’s neck. Her upper body pressed tightly against his.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that, but eventually, the cat seemed to have had her fill, breaking away from his lips. Her hands slid down to Kite’s chest, and without hesitation, she ran her tongue along his neck before sinking her teeth into his skin with a light bite.

A jolt of electricity shot through the blond man’s body, leaving him tingling all over. He gathered his thoughts and attempted to push Pitou away. But the cat wrapped around him remained unfazed, continuing to tug at his shirt, trailing kisses and playful nips along his neck and collarbone. With no other option, Kite reached out and gave her tail a gentle tug.

“Meow?” Pitou sprang back from his neck in an instant. She stared at him, puzzled, her eyes moist, cheeks flushed, and breathing rapid.

“Hey, do you even know what you’re doing?” Kite frowned, his tone serious. The cat blinked, then buried her head back into his neck. Right, she probably doesn’t. Kite thought to himself. How old is she, by the way?

“Whatever I’m doing right now, I don’t want it to stop, meow,” Pitou declared, tilting her head up to lock eyes with him. “If you know how to do it better, then teach me.”

Looking back later, it was probably that very sentence that struck him to his core.

Kite let out a sigh, then, without changing their position, slid one arm around Pitou’s waist and the other under her hips, lifting her up with ease. “First of all, a chair isn’t going to be very comfortable. At least not for you.”

No one would want their first time to be on a cramped, rigid chair—not with a bed so tantalizingly close.

Kite’s shift in position only fueled Pitou’s excitement. She surged forward, her tongue darting to his earlobe, leaving a warm, wet trail as she licked and teased. Her hands, previously resting on his shoulders, began wandering restlessly over his body.

“Hold still.” Kite caught her wrists, pressing them firmly back in place. She puffed out her lips in a sulky pout, though her resistance was half-hearted at best. “Patience,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “Patience is very important.”

With a gentle motion, he eased Pitou onto the bed. She complied, arms falling obediently to her sides, her usual wildness tempered into something disarmingly docile. Yet her impassioned eyes still shimmered with curiosity, eagerly awaiting his next move. Kite leaned in, his fingers working slowly at the double-breasted coat, each unfastened button revealing more of her skin. His lips followed, brushing soft, deliberate kisses along the path he uncovered, savoring the moment as it unfolded.

Her body was indeed strikingly close to a human woman’s, Kite mused. Yet he hesitated, unsure if he should touch her purely based on his past experiences with humans. She was, after all, a feline Chimera Ant—a hybrid entity wherein both feline and Chimera Ant biological systems exhibit perceptual frameworks and neurophysiological mechanisms for sexual stimuli and pleasure that markedly diverge from those of humans. If these three distinct influences—human, feline, and Chimera Ant—coexist and interact concurrently, which would stand out? Or might they integrate, manifesting as a composite state of all three? Years of studying Camp Tigers had made him an expert in feline anatomy, but Chimera Ants were another matter. If he recalled correctly, within their fully established hierarchical system, only the King possessed the capacity for sexual reproduction—or to put it simply, only the King had the right to choose a mate and have a sex life. No such privileges for Royal Guards like her. She existed solely to ensure that the King’s chosen female bore his offspring and, if ordered, to safeguard them. Her own desires? Irrelevant, erased by design.

If harboring even the smallest flicker of personal desire was a sin for her, carved into her very existence, would she ever be allowed to feel pleasure in this—here, with a human? The thought surged through Kite, stirring up a molten mix of pity and frustration, igniting his blood. Unable to stop himself, he reached out, cupping Pitou’s face in his hands and pressed a fierce kiss to her lips.

“You’re thinking again, meow,” she grumbled, her voice a soft protest.

“Yeah, about how to make you feel good,” he said, lightly pinching her cat ear. A pleased whimper escaped her, soft and unguarded.

Welp, this is a tricky situation. Kite thought, lowering his head again to resume his exploration of her body. He didn’t mind taking on the challenge.

-

Kite was jolted awake by a sound that resembled a fierce wind slamming against the window. He opened his eyes—outside, the world was still shrouded in darkness. The curtains lay quietly against the glass, undisturbed. The weather didn’t seem windy at all. Frowning, he reached for the bedside lamp and turned the knob. He was just about to get out of bed and check the window when he suddenly became aware of a warm weight pressing down on his upper body, making it nearly impossible to move.

It took him a moment to register—there was a cat on top of him.

Pitou was still sprawled across his chest, her breathing slow and steady, deep in slumber. One paw rested on his shoulder, and her tail had wound around his thigh several times, holding him in place.

What had he done last night? Ah. Right. Now he remembered…

Gazing down at her serene, beautiful face, he couldn’t help but recall certain moments.

Like the way Pitou’s hands had clung to his shoulders, her soft moans rising with his every move—sweet, intoxicating sounds that still echoed in his head. Or how she’d flipped him onto the mattress, pinning him down, her face hovering close as she stared into his eyes. He recalled her gaze then—innocent, unguarded, brimming with a girlish fervor. Young, perhaps too young, stirring a twinge of unease inside him, a self-conscious jolt like Gon’s blunt “uncle” jabs.

For a fleeting second, he remembered they were supposed to be enemies.

When she’d straddled him, utterly lost in the waves of pleasure, she looked bewildered and helpless. It was a joy she’d never known, and the first time she’d laid herself so completely bare, vulnerable in every sense. He’d never seen Pitou like this—utterly defenseless, every curve and angle laid bare to harm. It was the perfect chance—he should’ve grabbed the blade leaning against the bed and gone straight for her throat. A solid strike might cripple her, this monster who tormented humanity; a lucky blow might even end her. Yet instead, he rose to pull her close, kissing her with abandon, as if determined to guide a lone, drifting boat to a safe harbor…

His chest tightened with a tangle of emotions.

Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it—Hell, maybe he’d enjoyed it a little too much. He had to admit, Pitou’s uncanny learning ability extended to all areas—even this one included. Nor was it guilt; that had faded a while ago, almost washed away when he’d clawed his way back to life and woken again in East Gorteau. No, it was something else—

What had he brought into her world?

At first, teaching her biology, engaging in conversation—it was all just a tactic. A way to divert her attention, buy himself time, and increase his chances of survival. But now, the shift was undeniable; change had actually happened. He knew Pitou had grown attached to him, her feelings rendering her incapable of striking a killing blow. He could exploit that—plot his escape without a second thought, and once he was gone, whatever happened to her wouldn’t be his concern. 

And yet, he couldn’t let it go. He still found himself frustrated, even furious, whenever she spoke with that ingrained, self-erasing obedience of the Ants. What else was he trying to do to her?

Enlighten her? Guide her? Save her?

Yes, he’d shaken the loyalty and obedience etched into her genes. She had stood between him and the King. She had begun to say “I want” with a newfound clarity. She had reveled in a night of intimacy with him. But what came after that?

What would these experiences mean for her? If he couldn’t save her.

And he couldn’t. He was no savior.

He was merely a human. He could try to understand her feelings, but there’d always be a limit, a piece of her that slipped beyond his grasp. Just as he had once pondered the differences in how humans and Chimera Ants experienced physical pleasure, there was also likely a fundamental difference in how their minds worked. For humans, self-awareness and free will were as basic as eating or drinking, sprouting effortlessly. But for a Chimera Ant still bound to a sovereign, how many leaps would it take to even graze the edge of that?

He couldn’t picture it.

Just as he had no way of knowing what kind of struggles Pitou would face if she truly tried to grow in the direction he hoped for—what colossal forces she would have to defy, what she would have to…sacrifice.

He realized he couldn’t help her. This journey—long, uncertain, and daunting—was one she would have to walk alone.

All he could do was hope.

Kite gazed at Pitou with tender ache, reaching out to gently run his fingers through the strands of silver hair at her ear, damp with a fine sheen of sweat.

He knew that no matter what happened after this, he would always remember her—always remember this night.

— Sounds pretty damn pathetic. But it was the only certainty he could cling to now.

Pitou’s ears twitched faintly. She mumbled something, shook her head, and slowly opened her eyes, flashing Kite a sleepy smile.

“You okay?” The man’s hand slid to her cheek.

"More than okay." She propped herself up on her elbows, lazily inching forward. Folding her arms, she rested her head against Kite’s collarbone, gazing up at him with wide eyes. "It felt absolutely amazing, meow." Spotting a mark she’d left on his neck, she leaned in and kissed it softly. "I want to do it again—and again—and then tons more times!" As she started to shift into a mischievous pose, Kite reached out and stopped her.

"Not now. I’m exhausted." Seeing the cat let out a disappointed "Oh," he sighed and ruffled her hair. "Don’t you want to sleep a little more?"

“I’m buzzing with energy!” Pitou chirped, her tail swishing. She slowly slid one leg off the bed and glanced around. “Huh? Where’d my shorts go?”

Kite extended an arm and pointed toward the chair by the desk. Her shorts were draped over it—except the hem had been torn apart.

"Ah. What do we do about this, meow?"

"This is why I told you," Kite shrugged. "Patience is important."

"But I just wanted to be closer to you faster! Don’t you think it’s annoying to have clothes in the way at a time like that? I only kicked them off a little, meow."

"A ‘little’ kick from you could end a person’s life instantly, let alone a piece of clothing," Kite said dryly. "But I checked this room earlier. There are some outfits left behind by the dancers who used to stay here. You can pick something from the wardrobe."

Pitou opened the wardrobe and rummaged through a pile of revealing bunny-girl costumes before finally pulling out a blue-and-white dress that looked relatively normal. Without hesitation, she pulled it over her head and slipped it on.

Then she spun around and asked Kite, "How do I look?"

Kite didn’t have time to answer—because just then, someone knocked on the door. A polite three-knock pattern. A pause. Then three more. With an impatient huff, Pitou grabbed the handle and yanked the door open to its full extent.

The visitor was Pouf. He looked somewhat haggard, the dark circles under his eyes even more pronounced than before.

Pitou frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"Relax. I’m not here to kill your little pet." Pouf smirked, his expression laced with malice. He gave the cat girl a once-over before raising an eyebrow. "And what’s with that dress?"

"Because reasons."

"Fair enough, it suits you, actually." Pouf remarked. "Anyway, come with me to the presidential reception room." He tilted his head toward the hallway, gesturing for Pitou to follow. "It’s the King’s order. We need to have a meeting."

Before shutting the door, Pouf squinted at Kite. That look sent an inexplicable chill racing down the human’s spine.

-

"Miss Pitou, we meet again!"

Pitou wasn’t sure whether it was scent, footsteps, or something else entirely, but the moment she reached the doors of the presidential reception room, Komugi instantly sensed her presence and greeted her excitedly. The King shot her a sharp glare. He seemed to be struggling with a difficult move on the board in front of him, clearly not in the mood for any unnecessary noise to disrupt his concentration.

Pitou returned Komugi’s greeting with a nod. It had been almost a full day since she had last seen her, and Komugi still seemed to be in excellent condition—if anything, she was only growing more determined, completely different from the previous champion players the King had crushed. Pitou didn’t know how she managed to keep going, but she found herself somewhat impressed.

"Your Majesty," Pouf said, bowing with meticulous respect. “We need to discuss serious matters now. Shouldn’t we move elsewhere? This human woman…”

"It doesn’t matter." the King replied, still fixated on the board. He showed no intention of budging. "With her level of ability, she poses no threat to the plan whatsoever."

“What threat?” Komugi piped up loudly.

“Be silent,” the King ordered. Komugi immediately nodded, pressing a finger to her lips. “Focus on figuring out how to counter my next move—you’ll need it.”

“Your Majesty,” Pitou said, kneeling in deference. “If I may be so bold—what plan do you mean?”

"Ask Pouf," the King muttered absentmindedly, mimicking the movement of advancing a pawn along the right edge of the board, only to reconsider and pull it back.

“I was just discussing this with His Majesty,” Pouf said gravely, turning to Pitou. “We agreed it’s better done sooner than later—the ‘Human Selection Plan.’”

Pitou blinked. "How do we do it?"

"This is the first step toward our King’s grand unification of the world, and it requires both of us working together to succeed. We can’t afford to idle any longer!"

The butterfly noticed a fleeting shadow of disappointment in Pitou’s eyes. With a soft sigh, he continued, his tone heavy with purpose. “I get it, Pitou. Playfulness is a cat’s nature. You want to have fun, to rest—but we don’t need rest, do we? That’s a crucial distinction between superior beings like us and lowly humans, isn’t it? A human working seven days and nights without sleep might drop dead, but it wouldn’t faze us in the slightest. Shouldn’t we take pride in that? Besides, now is no time for indulgence. This is a time for discipline, for pushing ourselves even harder. It’s the perfect opportunity for us to dedicate our full strength and talent to our King!”

-

With Pitou and Pouf gone, Kite finally had the chance to investigate the disturbance he had noticed earlier. He pulled open the curtains and found several small pebbles scattered across the windowsill—likely carried over by the swallows nesting nearby.

Then he spotted it: a crumpled paper ball among the stones. After a quick glance to ensure no one was around, he unfolded it.

The handwriting was inconsistent, suggesting multiple contributors. The first line read: "Colt says there’s a Human Selection Plan. Major humanitarian disaster warning! Time? Location?" Below it, another note followed: "Preparations for your rescue are mostly in place, more details next time." Beside it was a rough sketch of a tree—too crude to identify the species.

Maybe Morel should give Meleoron some extra drawing lessons , Kite thought wryly. His eyes lingered on the words “Selection Plan,” and he sank into deep, troubled thought.

Chapter Text

"There’s a lot of work to be done," Pouf explained. "We may have taken over the presidential palace and seized control of the central government, but that’s about it. There are still over five million humans living in this country…" At this, Pouf's expression twisted with disgust.

"So what you're saying is, we need to clear out these humans and truly make East Gorteau the King's domain," Pitou followed up.

"Exactly. Like taking out the trash. They’re nothing but dead weight—not only weak but also a hassle to manage. That said, the King does need a powerful army, one that follows only his command. Without that, expansion beyond East Gorteau would be difficult. After all, the King seems…" Pouf cast a weary glance at the King before continuing, "…rather dissatisfied with the land we’ve chosen for him. Failing to meet his expectations is a disgrace to us as Royal Guards. We must correct this mistake as soon as possible."

"But we can’t exactly conjure an army out of thin air," Pitou mused. "We need raw material to work with. I doubt we can wipe out every human in this country… or are you suggesting we use those Squadron Leaders who came to pledge loyalty?"

"Forget the Squadron Leaders," Pouf scoffed, his face darkening. "The only subordinates the King can truly trust are us three. Those so-called loyal Squadron Leaders? They just want power to make their lives easier. I see right through them." He let out a disdainful chuckle. “They’ll flake the second things get tough.”

“They’re not like us,” Pitou remarked, as if something had just occurred to her. “After the Queen’s death, nothing binds them. They’ve got no reason to serve the King.”

"Reason? Since when does loyalty to the King require a reason?" Pouf suddenly clasped his face in his hands, his voice turning theatrical. "To serve him is the highest honor, the greatest privilege! Even the most insignificant task performed in his name fills my soul with ecstasy! Merely standing in his presence as he contemplates his next move on the board is enough to make my heart soar! To witness his perfection—to bask in his radiance—is a gift beyond mortal comprehension! He is the ultimate King! The flawless sovereign! Tell me, Pitou, surely you feel the same, do you not?"

"Uh… His Majesty can hear you, you know," Pitou gestured toward the King, who was still deep in thought on his cushion, completely unmoved by Pouf’s emotional outburst.

"I know that. I want him to hear me," Pouf shot her an annoyed glance before dramatically spreading his arms again, continuing his speech. "Yes, you are correct—without the Queen, those pathetic Squadron Leaders are nothing but rootless weeds, swaying aimlessly in the wind, clinging to whatever power they can leech off of. But we—we are not like them! We are bound to the King by something far greater, something transcendent! Because the King exists—eternal, resplendent, peerless—so too does our purpose! Our loyalty is not fleeting! It will never diminish, never waver! We are blessed. For what binds us to the King, what compels us to follow him with unwavering devotion, is a force beyond question, beyond doubt—it is divine! It is absolute! It is…destiny!"

That word—" destiny "—struck Pitou again like a thunderclap.

"So… is this the life you truly want?" Kite’s voice echoed in her memory, his gaze piercing through her, his tone carrying a rare heat. Was he angry then?

"This is your destiny. Accept it! Do not question! Do not doubt!" That voice was back—crashing into her thoughts, demanding obedience. It still sounded like Pouf, but deeper, heavier, and absolute.

“But why?” Kite’s gentle yet firm question cut through, lingering.

“Why’re you zoning out? I’m waiting for your take on this,” the real Pouf said, frowning at her.

"Oh, sorry, meow. I mean, this is, uh—" Pitou shook her head, snapping herself fully back to reality. She clapped her hands half-heartedly. "Very logical. Very moving. Back to the point—I think we all agree that the Squadron Leaders are not only unreliable but also difficult to control. From a military standpoint, it’s hard to ensure they’ll always follow orders. So, in the end, we’ll still need a large number of humans as raw material for our army."

"Yes, much to my dismay." Pouf nodded begrudgingly. "Humans are weaker, but they are far easier to control. After all, we can’t just snatch up the Squadron Leaders and turn them into mindless puppets, nor can I simply cocoon them and force them to evolve into pure weapons devoid of self-awareness—" He fluttered his wings irritably. "Not that I wouldn’t want to, but that would inevitably lead to chaos and losses."

His tone soured as he continued, "This is all because of those damn human genes. That filthy human trait of individual consciousness, which fuels their selfish instincts."

"Human genes have also given us intelligence, a thirst for knowledge, and the ability to learn." And emotions. And feelings. She thought. But those are just side effects! that voice chimed in.

"So we must keep the good and ditch the bad," Pouf said. "That’s why we call this a ‘selection.’ With your puppet-controlling abilities and my skill in cocooning humans into perfect soldiers, we can create the ultimate army for the King!"

Pouf then proceeded to discuss the broader details of the plan with Pitou—how to reduce the human population from five million to fifty thousand, how to strip these select few of their "troublesome human consciousness," and how to train them in Nen, transforming them into a formidable force that obeyed and served the King without question. After laying out his grand vision, he finally turned toward the King, who remained seated before the chessboard. "Your Majesty, does this plan meet your expectations?" Pouf’s voice was cautious, but his eyes burned with fervent anticipation, as if desperately seeking the King’s approval.

"I don’t care," the King responded coolly, his expression as indifferent as ever. "Did I not say you have full authority over this? I just want results—do whatever you want with the process."

"Ah! His Majesty entrusts me so completely—I’m truly overwhelmed with emotion!" Pouf exhaled dramatically, running a hand through his golden hair and stroking his antennae as if overcome by a strange, sentimental sorrow.

"We were just discussing ‘preliminary selection,’ meow," Pitou reminded him. "Where should we begin?"

"The most efficient approach would be to advance from the borders toward the capital. That way, it aligns with the preparations for the official selection process and saves considerable effort. Let me check the map." As Pouf spoke, he walked over to the lavish sofa beside the chess table. Hanging on the wall behind it was a massive map of the Mitene Union. "Onseong County at the eastern border and Pyongchon County at the western border—judging by population density and proximity to Peijin, starting from these two locations would be the most effective."

"Pyongchon County? Why are you suddenly talking about Pyongchon County?" For the first time, Komugi, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up. "That’s where my family lives!"

"Did I not tell you to remain silent?" The King frowned, the Gungi piece between his fingers slipping from his grasp and landing on the board. He glared at Komugi but made no further move.

Pitou knew that if it had been her or Pouf who defied his orders like that, his tail would have already struck their faces—at the very least, hard enough to make them cough up blood. She turned her head just in time to catch the expression on Pouf’s face—shock, laced with envy. No doubt he felt the same way. 

The King was showing a patience toward this human woman that Pitou had never witnessed before.

Perhaps it was because he knew that a punishment of that severity would kill her instantly—and he had yet to defeat her in Gungi. He did not want to leave unfinished business. Or perhaps…

Emptiness.

Pitou suddenly recalled the familiar emotion she had once glimpsed in the King’s eyes days ago. But now, that emptiness has been replaced by something resolute.

What had dispelled her own emptiness? Hadn’t it been her passion for biological observation? Why, then, did the King refuse to even try?

Suddenly, her past confusion cleared.

Observing living creatures, playing Gungi—perhaps these were merely conduits, pathways. Means rather than ends. What had truly pulled her out of that void and given her a sense of meaning—was that human.

She felt as if she had stumbled upon a revelation.

Could this human woman hold the same significance for her King?

"My apologies, Dear Leader," Komugi said with a gentle smile. "I was overwhelmed when Lord Pouf and Miss Pitou mentioned my hometown. There are many people there, but little land. It’s a remote and barren place, not much to see. But if you and the other lords ever wish to visit, my parents and twelve siblings would welcome you warmly!"

"Idiot, this isn’t about a sightseeing trip." The King continued to stare at her, his expression unreadable.

"Ah! Then what are they talking about?" Komugi asked eagerly.

"Focus on the game. This is none of your concern." His tone grew sharper as he placed another piece atop the Cannon she had just played. "Now, figure out how to counter this move. Bow, 8-4-2."

"A-Alright!" With her focus back on the board, Komugi’s expression immediately turned serious. "Fortress, 9-8-1." She swiftly made a diagonal move in response, and the King’s brow furrowed. The balance he had carefully maintained using his "Bow" was effortlessly shattered by her casual yet brilliant counter. How vast was the gap between their skill levels?

He let out a slow breath and sank into deep thought once more.

Pitou noticed the intensity in his expression and didn’t have the heart to break the sudden silence. Pouf, however, hesitated for a moment before deciding to step forward and advise, "Your Majesty, you should still remain on guard of this human. She just—"

A whip-like strike cut through the air. A fresh wound appeared on Pouf’s once-flawless cheek, and blue blood slowly seeped from the cut.

"You disrupted my train of thought," the King said blankly, his gaze never leaving the board, as if he could find a solution just by staring hard enough. "I am on guard against her. On the battlefield of Gungi." He glanced up at the white-haired girl, now dozing on her cushion from his long pause. Her mouth hung open, snot and drool pooling on the carpet.

Clumsy. Unrefined. Lacking any aesthetic appeal whatsoever. 

She had claimed she was worthless outside of Gungi, and it was no lie. The King thought . She is neither beautiful nor intelligent nor elegant. She holds no interest in anything outside of this board. She is frail, fragile, utterly useless—she wouldn’t even pass the ‘preliminary selection.’

Yet he still couldn’t beat her on this nine-by-nine grid.

The King let out a scoff. "Other than that, I have no interest in wasting my time or energy being ‘on guard’ of such a weak human."

Pitou patted Pouf on the shoulder. "I have some bandages in my room. Do you need one?"

"No." Pouf wiped at the cut on his cheek, and his aura quickly sealed the wound. He looked at Pitou in surprise. "You know we have no use for such low-grade human products. Why even ask?"

"No reason, meow." Pitou shrugged, pausing in thought before answering simply, "I just hoped it might make you feel better."

"Hmph, you overthink things. I must always maintain my best condition in service of His Majesty—how could I possibly feel sad over something so trivial?" Despite his words, a trace of sorrow lingered in his eyes. He waved a hand dismissively and continued, "In any case, since His Majesty has granted approval, we will proceed as planned. We will begin the ‘preliminary selection’ in Onseong County and Pyongchon County, and through ‘total mobilization,’ we will drive the selected survivors toward the capital. We must act swiftly!"

Clenching his fist, he raised his voice, "The humans' movements remain unclear, but one thing is certain—they are watching from the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to strike. We must act first."

"Creating puppets and deploying them to the distant borders will take time. Ming’s speech and the arrangements for the televised broadcast must also be handled separately," Pitou stated flatly, arms crossed. "At the fastest, it will take three days. As for gathering the humans who pass the ‘preliminary selection’ in Peijin for the final stage, that will take at least ten days."

From the corner of her eye, she noticed the King had finally placed his next move on the board. Only then did she turn back and ask,

"Your Majesty, does this timeline meet your approval?"

“Hm.” The King nodded, pleased with his “General, 7-8-1.” It pinned Komugi’s “Fortress,” giving him a breather. “I want the humans here dealt with and East Gorteau behind me in fifteen days. Your plan seems doable.”

From the side, Komugi let out a small gasp but quickly covered her mouth. None of the three Chimera Ants in the room noticed the slight reaction from the frail human girl.

“To see His Majesty’s grand desire fulfilled, to ascend as the sovereign pinnacle of all species—behold, we shall cast ourselves into the crucible of flame and storm, embracing ten thousand deaths without a whisper of regret!” Pouf proclaimed, his voice a soaring crescendo of fervor and devotion. “So, Pitou, let’s get everything ready now!”

A shadow flickered across Pitou’s face. She looked away, gaze drifting somewhere distant, lost for a moment before replying, “Okay, meow. But—” she added, “I need to grab something from my room first.”

The King’s focus had already snapped back to Gungi. Komugi played “New Shinobi, 5-5-2” in the board’s center—seemingly unrelated to their earlier edge skirmish, yet it gnawed at him with vague unease.

Pouf glanced at Pitou but didn’t call her out. “I’ll wait here. Ten minutes.”

-

Pitou was gone again.

How long had it been this time? Kite did the math—about 26 hours. Not that long, yet still long enough to weigh on his mind.

He recalled the way she had been before she left: She had burst through the door right after returning from her meeting with Pouf, throwing herself into his arms and kissing him fiercely. Before he even had the chance to react, she buried her face into the crook of his neck, her voice muffled as she spoke. "I have to go, meow. There’s… something I need to do. I might not be back for several days."

"Alright." Kite sighed, running his fingers through her soft silver hair. "It feels like the time we share.. is something stolen from a world that never meant to give it."

"It won’t be for much longer, meow." Pitou lifted her head, her expression serious. "I’ve made up my mind. I… I will tell His Majesty about you. I will beg him to accept you as one of us. He will grant my request. And then you’ll be safe. No matter what happens next, it won’t affect you."

Kite’s hand, mid-stroke through her hair, suddenly stilled.

Then, he let out a quiet, almost incredulous laugh.

"Why are you laughing at me?" Pitou grumbled.

Kite lowered his gaze and shook his head. "Nothing."

Perhaps because she was in a hurry, Pitou didn’t press further. Instead, she got up and made her way toward the door. Just as she was about to leave, she suddenly turned back, as if remembering something.

"I’ll ask Youpi to look after you. Don’t wander off. Don’t throw your life away. Got it nyow?"

Kite remembered the way she had looked at him then.

There had been a hint of reluctance in her eyes, but more than that, there had been worry. If he looked even closer, he could see something else—something almost like panic. As if she, too, could sense the uncertain, uncontrollable future ahead.

He had a rough idea of what she meant by "something I need to do." Thanks to Meleoron.

This country has witnessed multiple humanitarian disasters throughout its history. The outside world only knew of the few that had been recorded, and even those were horrifying enough. There were likely countless more tragedies buried under layers of information suppression, unknown to outsiders. The devastation left by the human regime had already reduced this land to ruins. Whatever the Ants were about to do would simply be another ripple in an ocean of suffering—one that the world would scarcely notice, let alone care about.

But since he was here, he couldn’t turn a blind eye.

There was little he could do at the moment. All he had was the name "Human Selection Plan", nothing beyond that. Why were they conducting this "selection" now? How would they carry it out? What scale of casualties would it cause? What kind of preparations should the Hunter extermination force make? He had no answer for any of these questions.

Kite was still trying to make sense of it all when a sudden scream rang out outside. A woman’s voice—unfamiliar and not far from his room.

He hesitated for two seconds before deciding to open the door and take a look.

In the hallway, Youpi had just struck down one of Pitou’s puppet soldiers with a single punch. The soldier released its grip on a beige-colored collar, and with another startled cry, a small girl in white tumbled to the floor.

A human.

Since being captured and brought into the Ants’ lair, Kite hadn’t come into contact with a single human. He knew the Queen and the King fed regularly, but the "consumed humans" had always remained beyond his reach of observation.

He eyed the frail-looking girl, unable to determine her identity.

Youpi reached down, grabbed her arm, and helped her back onto her feet. "Alright, let’s get to the dining hall." The red-skinned beast said.

Dining hall? Kite tensed. Was she today’s meal? Had the King ordered Youpi to bring her to the kitchen? But no—something didn’t add up. She looked far too thin to be a prime choice for a feast. Besides… Kite thought as he suddenly noticed —her eyes were shut, and she was holding a blind cane in her hand.

Whatever the case, he needed to see for himself.

Youpi was about to continue walking with the blind girl when he caught sight of Kite. "What are you doing? Pitou told you not to wander off." He snapped.

"Yeah, and Pitou told me to follow you." It wasn’t a lie. "Where are you going?"

"Taking her to the dining hall," Youpi glanced at the girl. "To eat. It was the King’s order—said she hasn’t eaten in two days."

"I’m fine!" The girl piped up. "Back home, when food was scarce, I once survived on just water for an entire week. I can keep going—I can still play Gungi!" Her stomach growled in protest, the sound loud and unmistakable.

"Surviving on water for a week is possible. I can vouch for that from personal experience. But it’s not exactly pleasant," Kite stepped forward and addressed the girl. "You should eat something."

The girl turned her head in Youpi’s direction, her closed eyes tightening slightly. "Lord Youpi, that wasn’t your voice just now. Who is he?"

Youpi cast a glance at Kite before answering, "Pitou’s guest."

"Oh." At that, the girl immediately seemed to relax a little.

"Can I come with you?" Kite asked. "I’m hungry too."

Youpi thought for a moment before nodding. "Fine. Saves me the trouble of bringing you food separately."

-

On the way to the dining hall, Kite learned that the girl’s name was Komugi, an East Gorteau-born Gungi player who had won the world championship five times. She had been summoned to play against the King two days ago and, since then, had played nonstop—without eating, drinking, or sleeping—for two whole days and nights. To this moment, she remained undefeated. The King had not managed to win a single match against her.

The reason she was being sent to the dining hall was that she had just played another move that the King couldn’t immediately counter. Pouf, who had been observing, suggested that the King’s struggle might be due to exhaustion from two days without rest or nourishment. He proposed that the King take a break to eat and personally offered to attend to him during the meal. The King approved, but insisted on playing against Komugi only when she was in peak condition, so he ordered Youpi to bring her for a meal as well.

Kite knew that Pouf harbored a deep hostility toward humans and had a rather difficult personality, yet it seemed like the butterfly had readily agreed to this arrangement, allowing Komugi to eat and rest properly. That surprised him a little.

Kite took a sip of the pork bone soup Youpi had just placed in front of him. It was delicious. Youpi’s cooking has improved quickly, Kite thought. Just a few days ago, the food he prepared had barely been edible. Now, it could rival the dishes of professional chefs.

"Wahhh… In my twenty-two years of life, I’ve never had soup this delicious. Thank you so much, Lord Youpi." Kite heard Komugi exclaim beside him. It was just a bowl of soup, yet it was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

She claimed to be twenty-two, yet her body was as frail and small as that of a fifteen-year-old. Kite immediately understood why. Malnutrition caused by famine during one’s formative years was common in this country. He thought back to his own childhood—struggling to survive in the slums. Had it not been for the support of his animal friends and Ging’s help, he probably wouldn’t have had the chance to grow properly either.

But Komugi had endured more than just poverty and hunger. She had faced a brutal political environment and a physical disability on top of it all. And yet, none of those hardships had stopped her from rising to become a world champion. That alone was an extraordinary feat—let alone the fact that she now sat across from the King himself, unshaken and unstoppable. Thinking of that, Kite couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of respect for the frail-looking blind girl beside him.

"Mr. Kite, do you have any other questions? If it’s about Gungi, I’ll do my best to answer them." Komugi’s polite voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Earlier, he had asked her to explain some of the basic rules of Gungi—since he knew next to nothing about the game. And despite being a world champion, she had never once shown impatience or disdain toward his amateur questions, answering each one with unwavering patience.

As Kite was pondering how to frame his next question, a sudden burst of birdsong came from outside the window.

"Oh! That’s the sound of sparrows." Komugi immediately identified it, turning her head toward the blinds with her sightless eyes. "How nostalgic… It’s been a long time since I last heard sparrows chirping in my hometown."

"Why? These should be Yor-Azian Tree Sparrows. They’re supposed to be widely distributed across the world," Kite observed as he watched a few of them land on the windowsill. The small birds curiously peeked inside before quickly taking off again.

"You’re right, Mr. Kite. My hometown used to have plenty of them too. When I was little, one of my favorite things was playing with them in the fields outside my house." Komugi smiled warmly.

"But then, during the Arduous March, the villagers had nothing left to eat. They started catching sparrows and harvesting their eggs for food. After that, I never heard their songs again. It feels like a blessing to run into old friends here in the capital."

Kite felt a lump in his throat. He paused, thinking carefully before speaking. "Maybe they’ve only left temporarily. When they sense that humans are no longer a threat, they might return and rebuild their population. Sparrows may seem small and fragile, but they are incredibly resilient birds."

"Thank you for comforting me, Mr. Kite."

"It’s nothing, Miss Komugi." Noticing a distant look on her face, he hesitated before asking, "Are you feeling homesick?"

Komugi shook her head. "I like playing Gungi with Dear Leader. His moves are sharp, ruthless—sometimes it feels like he’s choking me, pushing me to the edge of a cliff, forcing every bit of my potential out to win. This constant sense of peril… it fills my mind with new ideas, new plays. I’ve never had an opponent who drives me to improve like he does."

Her tone carried a sense of reverence, as if she were speaking about a rare and precious treasure. She turned her head toward Kite. Then, suddenly, her eyes opened. Her gray-blue pupils, void of sight, held an unfathomable force, as if they could shift the weight of the world.

"Dear Leader respects my Gungi more than anyone in my family ever has. If I could, I would stay here forever, playing against him. I don’t want to go home—but at the same time, I don’t want to have no home to return to, either."

Kite immediately picked up on the odd weight in her words. He shot a quick, wary glance at Youpi, who’d been behind them earlier, but the ant was now in the kitchen fetching something, oblivious to their talk. Then it hit him—Komugi’s blindness sharpened her hearing. Was she doing this on purpose?

"Where is your hometown?" Kite asked.

"Pyongchon County, in the far west of the country. Are you interested in traveling there too, Mr. Kite? That would be wonderful! My hometown has never been this popular before." Komugi closed her eyes again, her tone light and cheerful. "Miss Pitou and Lord Pouf were also discussing places worth visiting earlier. They mentioned my hometown, along with Onseong County in the east. They said they’d be spending three days there, I think? I didn’t hear too clearly. But…" She let out a small sigh, a tinge of regret in her voice. "Dear Leader doesn’t seem to enjoy living in my country. He wants to leave East Gorteau within fifteen days, taking fifty thousand soldiers with him. That means I won’t be able to keep playing Gungi with him—no, no, no! How could I make such an unreasonable request of the Supreme Leader?! He’s been so kind to me! I should be grateful! Be grateful, Komugi!" She folded her arms and gave a loud, exaggerated sniff.

Kite was stunned.

Why had she spoken with such precision, even specifying locations and timeframes? Was she asking for help? He committed her words to memory, thinking them over carefully. And yet, she seemed so pure, like someone who’d treat anything outside of Gungi as secondary, as if it barely registered in her world. Genius minds like hers often lacked a grasp of social complexities. Gungi required a great deal of calculation—perhaps she was simply attuned to numbers, casually mentioning what she had overheard without deeper intent.

Or maybe it’s both—conscious and subconscious at work. Kite decided to stop guessing at a genius’s wiring and just quietly thanked her in his head. Whatever her motive, this was priceless intel.

He decided to press further. “Miss Komugi, earlier you mentioned that you ‘don’t want to have no home to return to.’ What did you mean by that?"

"Ah… I was just a little worried…" Komugi hesitated for a moment before continuing, “The last Supreme Leader, General Ming, also sent his subordinates to inspect my hometown before. But every time they visited, it would cause some trouble. When I was away for tournaments, I’d get caught in it—villages locked down tight to greet General Ming’s envoys. I would get stranded in whatever town I was in, unable to return home until days later. When I got home, I’d hear people had gone missing—some houses lost a few, others whole families, just gone. Folks clammed up about it, only grumbling in secret. I heard whispers—conscription, or maybe prison.”

"Did your family ever get caught up in it?"

The white-haired girl shook her head so vigorously it looked like a drum rattle. “Nope, and they won’t be! As long as I keep winning, they’ll stay safe.”

True—Komugi’s a world champion who’s put the country on the map. Even an idiot like Ming Jol-ik would factor that in, Kite reasoned. But… the current “Dear Leader” probably wouldn’t give a damn…

"That’s why, when I heard those lords mentioning a trip to my hometown, I was immediately reminded of those unpleasant memories. It’s my fault." Komugi’s voice softened. "But I believe the new Dear Leader wouldn’t do such things. He’ll be kinder, fairer, more in touch with the people. He will surely recruit his fifty thousand soldiers under much better conditions. I trust him."

“Just because he’s good at Gungi?” Kite raised an eyebrow.

“Yep!” Komugi grinned, clearly not catching the sarcasm.

Just then, Kite heard footsteps behind him. He turned and saw Youpi returning from the kitchen, holding two papaya bowls—one filled with mixed fruit salad, the other already empty. From the traces of moisture around his mouth, it was obvious that Youpi had eaten the second one himself.

“You’re not worried we’ll run off?” Kite asked, watching Youpi set the fruit-filled papaya bowl on the table.

“You can’t escape. Her, even less,” Youpi said bluntly. He jerked a thumb toward the kitchen. “Just found out there’s a little leader’s private grove out back—full of fruits you don’t get native in East Gorteau.”

"I’m not surprised at all." Kite glanced at the selection on the table—not just papayas but also cranberries and dragon fruit. Exotic enough for East Gorteau. The Supreme Leader really had a sense of indulgence.

"What kind of fruit is it?" Komugi asked excitedly. "The last time I won the national championship, my prize was five pounds of peanuts and a whole watermelon. My entire family—fourteen of us—celebrated for a whole day!"

Kite quietly slid the papaya bowl toward her, despite Youpi sticking two spoons in it. “I should head back,” he said, standing and turning to Youpi. “You’re not gonna watch me all the way to my room?”

"Eh? Mr. Kite, won’t you try some fruit?" Komugi asked, scooping a spoonful of papaya into her mouth.

“I’m full. It’s all yours,” he replied. But as the words left his mouth, he felt a pang of arrogance. Who was he to pity this tough woman, who’d faced a lifetime of hardship yet still met life with a smile?

So, before stepping away with Youpi, he gave her the most sincere farewell he could manage. "Miss Komugi, our conversation has been insightful. I wish you… endless victories."

Not long after, Kite scribbled down every number Komugi had mentioned in a note for Meleoron. His message was concise, packed with all the critical details—enough on its own. But he added a rough sketch of Komugi’s situation, switching to red pen to highlight: “There’s another human in the palace besides me, rarely leaves the King’s side. If any invasion plan’s too destructive, think twice.”

Too detailed. It might give him away, he thought. But Kite felt completely at peace with that. What’s the worst they’d do—kill him again? With millions of human lives at stake, his own safety was no longer a priority.

"I want you whole, alive." "Then you’ll be safe." "Don’t throw your life away!"

Pitou’s voice echoed in his ears. Her beautiful face flashed before him—those crimson cat eyes brimming with unmistakable care and…

She’d been so genuine.

And he was about to disappoint her again.

-

When Youpi found her on the rooftop of the clock tower, Pitou immediately noticed a bruise at the corner of the beast’s eye. He looked dejected, as if he had just been reprimanded.

"What happened, meow?" Pitou asked. "Didn’t His Majesty say that no one is allowed to swap guard duties during the selection process?"

Youpi shook his head with a sigh. “Not a shift change. The King needs you for something urgent.”

What urgent matter could it be? As she leaped her way back to the palace, Pitou pondered.

Was it about the plan? The preliminary selection over the past few days hadn’t gone as smoothly as expected. The puppet soldiers had met fierce resistance. It was as if the humans had been prepared for this—placing skilled Nen users at the designated locations to ambush them. But in the end, their efforts would only delay the inevitable. Pitou was confident that one more nationwide broadcast from Ming Jol-ik would put an end to the resistance soon enough.

Maybe this was also a good opportunity to bring up Kite. She wanted her master’s blessing. She no longer wanted to hide her feelings from anyone. Most importantly, she wanted Kite to be safe. It was risky. She would have to work hard to convince the King. But after seeing how he treated Komugi, she realized it might not be as impossible as she had once thought. If there was room for Komugi, one more human needing special treatment shouldn’t be a big deal, right?

You have no right to ask the King for anything! That voice—rougher than Pouf’s—slammed into her thoughts, cutting them off.

Pitou faltered for just a moment before forcing herself to ignore it. She strode forward, stepping straight into the president’s lounge where the King resided.

—

The atmosphere in the room felt… off. Komugi was curled up on a luxurious sofa, wrapped in a blanket, fast asleep. Pouf stood by the wall, arms crossed, his face a tangle of emotions. And the King, as always, sat before the Gungi board. From the placement of the pieces, it seemed he had lost another match. He idly toyed with a "Knight" between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the sleeping white-haired girl.

"Your Majesty." Pitou knelt before him in greeting. "What urgent task do you require of me?"

Pouf shot her an irritated glare before quickly looking away.

The King kept staring at Komugi, expressionless, as if he hadn’t even heard Pitou’s question at all.

After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice calm and measured. "Pitou, did you bring a human to East Gorteau?"

Pitou froze for a split second before immediately responding. "Yes, Your Majesty. I was just about to—"

"Do you remember what I told you at the time?" The King cut her off. "I ordered you to assess the situation and dispose of him." His fingers slowly spun the "Knight" between them. "It has been weeks. Have you finished your assessment?"

Pitou opened her mouth—but no words came out.

"No, not only did you fail to report back to me, but you also never brought him up again. On top of that, you secretly asked Youpi to deliver food to him. The two of you have done quite a lot behind my back."

He’s right—you shouldn’t hide anything from your King. That voice roared in her head, deafening.

"Still," the King said, his tone eerily tranquil. "I suppose I cannot blame you entirely. If not for Pouf’s reminder, I might have forgotten about it myself." His face stayed unreadable, and Pitou couldn’t guess his thoughts. All she felt was that old, creeping fear wrapping around her again.

"Your Majesty, forgive my insolence." Pitou kept her head lowered. "It is true that I have failed to report this matter in a timely manner. The fault is mine alone. I will accept any punishment."

“I’ll let it slide this time. There’s still time to fix it,” the King replied, his tone lofty, like he was tossing her a rare favor.

Pitou should have immediately bowed and expressed her gratitude, humbly accepting this unexpected reprieve. But she just stood there, frozen, like she was helplessly awaiting doom.

“Neferpitou.” The King turned to her, his eyes like a weapons vault—crushing, piercing. “I order you: kill that human.”

Chapter Text

Approximately half an hour earlier—-

"We can’t rule out the possibility that our plan has been leaked," Pouf said, his expression grave as he addressed the King seated at the Gungi board. "The humans’ behavior over the past few days has been far too strange."

He wasn’t sure if the King was even paying attention to what he said, because the leader’s brows were furrowed, his eyes locked on the Gungi champion sitting across from him. That white-haired woman had been playing nearly nonstop for seven days and nights, and she finally seemed to be reaching her limit. Her head kept bobbing forward like a pecking chicken; she drooled, wiped it away hastily, and even her normally wide-open, vacant eyes occasionally shut for brief moments. So in the end, no matter how resilient a human may appear, they’re still just lowly creatures who fall to the need for sleep, Pouf thought with disdain.

But the King, sitting beside him, knew that even in her utterly exhausted state, Komugi’s moves remained as sharp as ever—every turn she took still left him scrambling.

“Hey, if you’re sleepy, go to the sofa,” the King said. “I concede this round. We’ll play again when you wake up.”

Normally, she would have stubbornly replied, “I can still keep going!” But now, she didn’t even have the strength to argue. She picked up her blind cane, wandered forward in a daze, and the moment she touched the soft edge of the luxurious sofa, she collapsed onto it. Steady breathing followed shortly after.

"Your Majesty, about what I mentioned earlier—" Pouf reminded him.

“I heard you,” the King cut in curtly. “What’s so strange about it? Didn’t you say they’ve likely known about the ‘selection’ from the start?”

"Yes. It’s highly likely they heard about it from turncoats like Colt. However, if that were the only information they had, I believe their response would be more reactive." Pouf reasoned. "We would be seeing more panicked, aggressive resistance. But what we’re seeing now—" he paused, thinking aloud, "—their current deployments are oddly calm. Limited in scope, yes, but highly targeted. It gives me the impression that they’re still holding back… that they have strength in reserve."

"Proactive positioning," the King murmured.

The phrase immediately reminded him of the kind of moves Komugi often made—seemingly unrelated plays that, dozens of turns later, somehow became the key to winning the entire match. Every time that happened, it left him deeply unsettled. Could she really have foreseen what I’d do thirty moves in advance? "It does defy logic," he said.

“Another oddity,” Pouf continued his analysis, "is that the resistance is concentrated entirely in the counties where the preliminary selection is being carried out, while the palace and the capital remain completely undisturbed. There are no records of Squadron Leaders engaging in battle or going missing, not even the slightest hint of abnormal human activity. If the humans hope to win, their ultimate target has to be Your Majesty. But with their power alone, they cannot defeat you. Which means, eventually, they must take a risk. And yet, so far, not only have they taken no such risk—if they have made deployments near the palace, they’ve done so with extreme caution."

"They know there are still living humans inside the palace, so they’re holding back." the King said, narrowing his eyes. Komugi shifted slightly under his gaze, kicking the blanket off to one side. Her face remained peaceful in sleep.

"Exactly. And not just that," Pouf added, his eyes now fixed on Komugi with visible suspicion. "They’ve known all along that Pitou’s pet human is also here. But I don’t believe he is the reason they’re hesitating. It’s her—this frail woman, completely lacking any means of self-defense, who plays Gungi with Your Majesty. Which means, this woman—"

"Wait a moment," the King interrupted, frowning. "Did you just say 'Pitou’s pet human'? What’s that about?"

Pouf blinked, taking a second to realize what he had just let slip. "Huh? I thought Your Majesty was already aware of this. Didn’t you grant Pitou permission to keep him around for a while? She brought him here right after that."

That gave the King a flicker of confusion. He had never cared about Pitou’s inner world, nor had he ever entertained the notion that humans could serve any purpose other than food—

Except for one. At that thought, his eyes dropped to the Gungi piece in his hand. Over the past week, he had barely left this room, absorbed entirely in Gungi.

But only that human had ever earned the right to such a privilege. The idea that he now had to give even a moment’s thought to some other human—someone with no connection to Gungi—was deeply irritating. He strained to recall the memory and eventually dredged up a faint impression: something he had said in passing long ago, a casual remark he’d promptly forgotten. While apparently, this royal decree was extremely important to Pitou. And now, in hindsight, it made sense—its vagueness had given her room to interpret it however she wished.

She had continued to serve him dutifully ever since, always obedient, never disloyal. And yet, he still felt the stirrings of irritation.

Pouf spoke again. "But that’s no longer the point. If the plan truly has been leaked… perhaps Pitou’s pet played a role, but the real culprit is this deceitful woman pretending to be harmless. Your Majesty, humans are always more dangerous than they appear."

"Even if they’ve learned more than expected, what does it matter?" the King replied. "It’s only a delay. They cannot defeat me."

"But perhaps delay is exactly what they’re after." Pouf bowed low, prostrating himself on the floor. "Your Majesty, please—kill this woman. End it, once and for all. Leave her alive, and she will betray you again!"

Pouf made a fair point, the King thought. He stood and walked over to the sofa where Komugi lay sleeping. How should he kill her? With his hand—or his tail? It would be so easy. Far easier than biting through the skulls of those rare human soldiers under Nen pressure. He made up his mind and reached out—

—only to grab the blanket she had kicked off and gently pull it back over her.

Behind him, Pouf's expression shifted in an instant—from hope and anticipation to a cold, hollow despair. 

The King took no notice of his subordinate’s reaction. He was too focused, turning over the earlier conversation with Pouf in his mind, replaying his words about the humans “buying time.”

And then suddenly—he understood.

Ah. Of course. They were stalling. Stalling in order to “rescue” her. To take her away from him.

The faint irritation he had felt before flared into something sharper, hotter—rage.

He was angry. And he didn’t quite understand why. Perhaps it was the realization that Komugi’s betrayal made sense—but why betrayal ? Why had he thought that word, as if he had always assumed she was on his side? Or perhaps it was the fear—fear that she might soon be taken far away from him. He couldn't untangle it. 

If Pouf’s theory was correct—if the human Pitou brought was somehow stirring the pot…

Perfect. The wrath of the supreme king should fall on a lowly servant. It would not be Komugi—he would never allow that. But it could be anyone else. Pitou’s human pet would fit the bill.

So, after grilling Youpi and doling out his due punishment—concealment and abetting, repaid with a furious tail whip, which he deemed fair and lenient—the King ordered the beast to fetch Pitou from her post at once.

"Kill that human," he said. A reasonable command.

But Pitou’s reaction was anything but reasonable. This ever-loyal servant did not just nod to accept the order and hurry off to carry it out. Instead, her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. She simply looked at him. And kept looking. What is that expression? the King wondered. A flicker of barely-contained fear and despair was written plain in her eyes. It was a look he had never seen on her before—no, it resembled the expression he’d seen on the faces of humans who realized they were about to be eaten. As a king, is it good to be feared by your servants?

He recalled the history books he’d read about human rulers. Many had ruled through fear. It seemed to be a common, even essential, tool of control. So perhaps it was necessary. And yet…

“Your Majesty,” Pitou spoke, cutting through his spiraling doubts. “May I know why you insist on killing this human?” The fear in her eyes had vanished—replaced now by a look of urgent, unyielding inquiry.

In the past, the King would never have bothered answering a question like that from Pitou. He had already issued a clear, uncompromising command—her duty was simply to carry it out. There was no room for why. But today, he decided to indulge her request. Perhaps, just this once, he felt like being a good ruler.

"His presence poses a threat to both Komugi and myself." Komugi. Had he just mentioned Komugi again? "What Pouf said hasn’t been fully confirmed," he continued, "but frankly, it no longer matters. If that human could appear right in front of me without warning, it means someone must have assisted him using a Nen ability—something likely related to invisibility or, worse, a more advanced form of disguise. If that person is still alive, then your pet human could be using the same method to stay in contact with the human world—waiting for the right chance to escape. And if he does… it would only be natural for him to leak information."

His imperious gaze settled on Pitou again, the weight of it like a cornering force against the cat. "A simple deduction. Why didn’t you think of it? Or did you get so carried away playing that you let your guard down—too comfortable to consider how your negligence might cost me?"

The King watched as Pitou’s once-rigid frame slowly sagged, her eyes losing their light. Finally, she gave a faint nod. "That… makes sense. I understand, Your Majesty." Good, he thought.

His patience quota for the day was spent—there would be no further explanations. His gaze drifted back to the Gungi board. He needed to dissect Komugi’s latest tactic from their last game, figure out a counter before facing it again.

"Your Majesty, may I humbly ask one final request?" He was just reaching a critical point in his analysis when the cat, still lingering before him, interrupted again. Why is she still here? So annoying.

"Speak."

“Might I beg Your Majesty for a little more time?” Pitou said. “I think… he deserves an honorable death, at least.”

An honorable death—such a human notion. The King recalled reading how some human rulers, when executing close aides or kin, ordered beheadings by sword, seppuku, or poisoned wine—methods deemed more dignified than public executions, depending on their culture. Was that what Pitou wanted? What would a glorious death look like for that human? She seemed awfully attached to her toy. Troublesome, but intriguing. He didn’t mind things that were intriguing.

“Twelve hours sharp,” the King said, raising a finger. “By then, you’ll present me with his head. Fail me again, and I’ll treat it as treason—no mercy.”

-

Pitou stumbled out of the presidential reception hall in a daze. Behind her, Pouf quickly caught up. 

"The King has permitted me to speak with you for a while," he said. The silver-haired feline stopped in her tracks. She turned, and her blood-red eyes locked onto the butterfly with a searing intensity.

Pouf flinched under the weight of the emotion pouring from those eyes—but then composed himself enough to speak. "I didn’t bring up that man to the King on purpose."

“Just slipped out by accident?” Pitou shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“It was to expose that woman, I had no choice,” Pouf said, his tone growing resolute the moment he mentioned that woman. "And besides, there’s no point hiding anything now. The King said it himself—if your pet human has been in contact with the outside world to assist her, then he poses a threat to His Majesty’s safety. And that makes him deserving of death."

"Everything out of your mouth is ‘that woman.’ Why are you so obsessed with Komugi? It’s like… it’s like you hate her. What has she ever done to you?"

"Good heavens, can’t you see it?" Pouf’s face twisted into a grotesque expression of exaggerated disbelief. "The King has been completely bewitched by her Gungi prowess! He’s so entranced, he can’t even sense the danger looming right at his side. But I won’t give up. I will do everything I can to make him see her for what she truly is—to strip away that false mask of innocence and deceit, to show him that I alone am willing to devote everything—my heart, my life—to him and his great vision!" After pouring out his fervent declaration, Pouf finally regained a bit of composure. His voice lowered again, turning cold. "Speaking of deception... You should get it by now, Pitou. That man—he’s just using you."

His words stabbed into her heart like a blade, twisting as it sank in. The pain was sharp—too sharp—forcing her eyes shut. But why? Why did it hurt like this? Day after day, that indistinct knot of emotion within her chest had grown, spreading like a rising tide, until it engulfed her completely. She was drowning in it—yet she didn’t mind. Even if it robbed her of breath, she kept swimming deeper, desperate to find its source, to give it a name. But before she could, the King’s command and Pouf’s jab yanked her violently back to reality.

Your emotions, your feelings—they’re just illusions, human tricks. His game’s up now, and it’s time for your life to get back on track. The King’s voice and Pouf’s wove together, a duet ringing in her ears.

But she still wanted to hold on to something. She forced her eyes open and glared at the butterfly beside her. "What gives you the right to say that?"

Pouf smiled. "See? That reaction says it all. You’ve thought about it too, haven’t you? That’s what humans do. That man would do it. That woman would do it. When the timing is right, they’ll betray us without a second thought."

He was right. Those who are not of our kind cannot be trusted. Kill the human. Kill him.

Then erase him. Erase him completely. Wipe him from your memory, and the pain will vanish. Then you’ll be able to serve the King with unwavering devotion, moving toward the glorious end you were meant to pursue! The voice sounded less like Pouf now, Pitou thought. Perhaps she should obey. Perhaps she should yield to that logic. But when the image of that man appeared in her mind again, she couldn’t stop herself from whispering:

“…But…”

But what? But Kite was different from other humans? She had known that for a long time. Yet this time, he had truly crossed the King, endangering his safety. He deserved to die. This “but” wasn’t about Kite anymore—it was about her. She should kill him, swiftly and effortlessly, but she…

“The King has spoken. Your ‘but’ doesn’t really matter anymore,” Pouf said, his tone softening, almost like he was trying to comfort her. “Don’t be sad about it. His Majesty isn’t wrong here. He told you to kill that man for your own good, too. Better to cut ties early before he gets another chance to hurt you—just like that woman still has a chance to hurt His Majesty!”

The moment he brought up that woman, Pouf’s voice pitched upward, his words coming in a rush, his wings fluttering violently as waves of vicious rage pulsed from his aura—so overwhelming, so unstable, teetering on the edge of madness. But beneath that fury, Pitou could see it—fear. He was afraid of losing something. She understood that feeling well.

"Oh, right. I’ve got something for you." Pouf reached into his pocket and pulled out a small glass vial, sealed with a cork. Inside, it shimmered with white, powdery dust. He placed it firmly into Pitou’s hand.

"What is this?" she asked, holding the bottle between two fingers and lifting it up to examine it. There was no label.

"A compound made from my scales," Pouf explained. "Look, it’s clear that man has really messed you up. If you can’t bear to face him… this might help. At least it’ll make things a little less painful."

"You want me to use your scales to kill him?"

"Please. If I were capable of something like that, we wouldn’t need to be breaking our backs over this whole human selection plan, would we?" Pouf gave a bitter laugh. "My scales only induce hypnosis and hallucinations. You’ll still need to finish the job yourself—beheading and all. But if you use this first, he can die peacefully. You’re so attached to how he looks… I imagine you wouldn’t want to see his face twisted in agony. To die within a tranquil dream—that’s about as merciful a death as any lowly human who dared offend the King could ever hope for."

Pitou stared at the vial in silence.

"Think of it as a gift in return—for the bandage," Pouf added, giving her a rare nod before turning away. Then, as if a switch had flipped, he slipped right back into his erratic state, mumbling to himself as he fluttered off: "Your Majesty, I’ve returned to your side… I’ll never let that woman hurt you again, not while I’m still breathing… not while I live, not while I live…"

Pitou tucked the vial of butterfly scale-dust into the side pocket of her skirt. A long while passed before she managed to take a step forward. Her feet felt as though they were chained to a thousand pounds of iron.

-

She finally pushed open the door.

Kite was sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on the window ledge. His head was tilted slightly as he gazed out past the railing, eyes fixed on the dark, looming rain clouds stacked high across the afternoon sky. Though it was only three o'clock, the room was dim, and the bedside lamp had already been switched on, casting a soft light to push back the gloom. Pitou sniffed the air—something had been burned in the room not long ago.

The human’s posture looked relaxed, almost lazy. But if one looked closer, it was clear that beneath it lay a powerful, quiet resolve.

It was like he had been waiting—for someone to arrive, or something to happen.

The sound of the door made him whip his head around. Seeing Pitou, he let out a breath of relief. But the moment his gaze met hers, his brow furrowed.

"Are you okay?"

The warmth and concern in his voice made her tremble ever so slightly. That familiar voice. So familiar. Still so sincere, so comforting—as if he had no idea she was here to—Pitou shook her head, fighting not to sink into it.

"Not okay?" Kite asked, watching her closely. "What happened? Did the King punish you again?"

Kill him. What are you hesitating for? This is a direct order from the King. Pitou acknowledged the voice command in her head with silence. She glared at Kite, trying to drain every emotion from her gaze, to leave only coldness and hostility behind. “You know what you’ve done.”

Kite seemed to grasp it instantly. "He finally gave the order. You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?"

"You betrayed me." Her voice had to sound distant now. It had to.

Kite lowered his eyes with a quiet sigh. Then he looked back up at her and said,

"If what you’re referring to is what I think it is, then I can only be honest with you—just like I was from the beginning. I am human. As long as the Ant King’s goal is to exterminate humanity and conquer the world, I can’t ever stand with him. Not before, not now, not ever."

He paused, then added, "But, I’m talking about him. Not about you."

"Shut up. You’ve angered the supreme King. Now he demands your head, and I must obey. Born as his Royal Guard, I’m forever just the faithful executor of his will." This time, she was sure her voice carried no emotion.

Yet the compassion in Kite’s eyes only deepened. 

"You are more than that," he said softly.

Her ruby-red cat eyes widened, lashes trembling as her heart quaked. Don’t listen to him! The voice in her head leapt in, cutting her off. Was this voice really my rational self? Pitou was starting to doubt it. It has been showing up far too often lately.

Kill him. A commanding tone. Her thoughts snapped again.

“For my king, I’ll kill you,” Pitou said. “A traitor deserves a crueler, merciless end. But thanks to the King’s boundless mercy, he has allowed me to grant you an honorable death.”

"Honorable death?" Kite actually laughed. "No such thing. Death is just death. Honor or disgrace—those are just stories told by the living. Once a creature’s heart stops beating, it no longer has any awareness of what happens next. Death’s manner and legacy matter only to those who survive to remember."

His gaze pierced into her, and she shifted uncomfortably under it. "Don’t joke about this. I worked hard to win you that privilege."

"I figured as much." Strangely, the human still looked relaxed. His tone hadn’t changed at all. "So, tell me—how do you plan to kill me? I’m curious about this ‘honorable’ method you’ve come up with."

Pitou’s hand brushed the glass vial tucked into her skirt—the butterfly dust. But she didn’t take it out. Instead, she stepped forward, intent on wrapping her fingers around the human’s throat… or maybe his waist. But when the moment came, she found she couldn’t bring herself to touch him. Imbecile. The voice sneered.

She turned away. "Follow me."

And he did.

-

Pitou stopped in a clearing within the forest on the outskirts of the city. It wasn’t far from the presidential palace—when she looked up, she could still make out Youpi standing watch atop the clock tower.

The sky had grown even darker, dull and heavy, as though it intended to drain every last trace of color from the ground below. The thick rain clouds hung low, their flat undersides pressing against the domed roof of the palace, ready to collapse at any moment and crush the entirety of Peijin City beneath them. A large bird of prey swept past Pitou—she recognized it as a Steller's sea eagle. Normally, such birds flew high and fed along the shore. She remembered Kite telling her once: the behavior of animals could be used to predict the weather. When large seabirds flew inland and closer to the ground, it often meant the upper air was too saturated with moisture for them to stay aloft.

A torrential downpour was imminent.

She turned back. Kite stood not far behind, eyes fixed on her with a look of concern. 

He’s about to die—what’s he worrying about, meow? From that look, was he worried for… Me? Why?

All the way here, Kite had followed silently, never once hinting at any signs of escape. And she had allowed him to move freely, not once considering that he might suddenly turn and run—almost as if she knew he wouldn’t.

To Kite, this path should have clearly been a walk toward death. And yet he looked perfectly calm, as if they were simply out on another one of their usual wildlife observation outings.

And she trusted him still. The two of them had already developed a kind of mutual understanding.

Kill him, now! The buzzing in Pitou’s head roared again.

“I challenge you to a duel.” The feline Chimera Ant stood tall, her red eyes locked onto the human across from her, enunciating each word with clarity and force.

A duel—an ancient tradition from the early human aristocracies of Yorbian Continent, used to resolve disputes. Following the rules of such duels, Pitou had found a quiet and undisturbed “honor ground.” This time, Kite had no children to protect, no surprise attacks or severed arms. His wounds had mostly healed. Everything was just as it should be—open, fair, and just. She could think of no more dignified way to carry out an execution.

And it was an execution—because she knew that in terms of combat ability, she far outmatched this human. Even if calling it a duel made things sound fair, the truth was that it would only become a one-sided slaughter in the end. But dying this way—facing her directly, with pride—would surely be a death Kite considered honorable. The least she could do was make sure it wouldn’t be painful. She knew how to do that.

Pitou thought back to why she had decided to save Kite’s life in the first place. Back then, she had been intoxicated by battle and knew nothing beyond it. The only reason she healed him was in the hope of reliving that fleeting dreamlike fight. But soon after Kite woke, her focus had shifted. This unusual human showed her a world far richer, with things more wondrous, more fascinating than battle alone. That original motive had long been forgotten.

And now, after everything, she had to face him in battle again, to end his life. All because of a single command, spoken in a moment of the King’s rage. She found it... absurd.

KILL HIM!!

Pitou looked at Kite, waiting for his answer. At last, he closed his eyes, let out a long breath, and nodded. “I accept your challenge.”

Very well then. The cat stepped back, settling into a fighting stance.

Chapter Text

Kill him!!

Obeying the command echoing in her mind, Pitou took a deep breath. Her arms hung loosely at her sides, upper body leaning slightly forward, knees bending slowly into a crouch. She had wiped away every trace of joy, anger, sorrow, or fear—she believed her face now to be completely expressionless. All her focus was on the human before her. Coldly, emotionlessly, she analyzed his weaknesses, planning to bring him down as swiftly as possible.

Where should she strike to be most efficient? Pitou wondered. Straight for the throat—or the heart?

Wild cats in nature rarely aim to kill instantly. They prefer to toy with their prey, tormenting them until they’re too weak to resist, before going in for the final blow. Pitou, despite having feline genes, was not thinking of that now. Instead, she was calculating how to end this as quickly as possible—how to fulfill the King's order while minimizing Kite’s pain. To kill him.

That was the last shred of mercy she could offer—a hollow mercy, really, just a means to her end faster. Kill him. That purpose, bestowed by the King, should dominate her mind, crowding out every other thought or feeling. She did not need to think anymore. Thinking would only bring her pain.

And yet, she couldn’t stop herself from remembering—Remembering how she had once told him that she wanted him to live. That she wanted him to be safe. 

That she wanted him to stay by her side…. Forever.

But now, she was about to crush those hopes with her own hands, grinding them to dust, one by one. They were nothing more than some fleeting, impractical fantasies—it was time to get her feet back on the ground and devote herself to a greater cause: helping her King conquer the world. She clung to that idea, desperate to convince herself.

But it only left her feeling profoundly empty.

Is this worth it? She heard herself ask—and found she was staring, dazed, at the tall figure standing just a short distance away.

Stop questioning. This is an order. Kill him! 

The voice in her head felt like a slap. Pitou snapped back to awareness. What was she doing?

She’d just challenged him to a duel—losing focus now would leave her open, giving him an edge. She shook her head and forced herself to focus once more. She had to anticipate his move. If he had taken advantage of her lapse, then he might have already planned a strike.

Given her current stance, his best option would be to go for her right shoulder—an efficient target in terms of both energy and precision. So she adjusted her defense accordingly, readying a counterattack. If the human came at her in a charge, it would leave his throat exposed. She could slash it open in an instant. With that in mind, she zeroed in on his movements, waiting for his assault.

But the human didn’t move at all.

Feeling confused, Pitou waited two seconds. Kite was still just standing there, calmly watching her.

This is your chance! The voice in her head yelled again, snapping her back into action. Don’t hesitate. Strike! It felt as if something had shoved her from behind. She instantly sprang forward, extending her sharp-clawed paw in a sudden lunge.

Kite sidestepped, easily dodging her first attack. She didn’t feel frustrated—only that she must not have been fully prepared. Using her tail for balance, she landed lightly, not too far off. As she turned, she saw the human raise his right hand. A swirl of nen gathered rapidly in his palm, condensing into a mist.

Then the absurd little clown appeared. Long time no see, Pitou thought. It had been this strange ability that first sparked her interest in Kite. She stared at the clown, wondering what form it would take this time.

“You bastard, this is seriously getting ridiculous!” the clown yelled. Its signature sausage lips stretched wide in outrage, but instead of showing a number, there was only a blank space displayed inside its mouth. “You ghosted for how long, and now you call me out when you’ve got zero fight in you? What the hell do you want me to do, huh?” It howled at Kite, who stared back in silence, giving no command.

With a soft pop , the clown suddenly floated right up in front of Pitou. Its slitted eyes squinted at her. She couldn’t read its expression, but she could feel that odd little head sizing her up. Just as she reached out to grab its question mark-patterned hat, the clown vanished— poof —and reappeared next to Kite, practically shrieking in his ear.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? I thought you’d hit rock bottom, ready to throw down like it’s do-or-die—but oh boy , nope! Turns out you’re not the only one with zero fight in you. She doesn’t even wanna kill you! So what the hell are you two playing at? And you summoned me for what? Sorting out your romantic drama? Dude I’m not built for that shit.” With a puff, it vanished in a cloud of smoke. Kite blinked, stunned for a second, then let out a dry, self-mocking chuckle. 

He straightened up and looked at Pitou again. And there it was—that familiar warmth in his eyes. She’d seen it before. Many times. That warmth was hard to let go of. She wondered—

Kill him! Now, while he’s unguarded! 

Pitou’s body stiffened instantly. Her posture snapped back into something familiar—the stance she was born knowing, the stance of a killer. Good. That’s the way. She heard that voice approving her. She was just a weapon, a killing machine built to serve the King. Just that. Nothing more.

Her next attack came dangerously close to slashing Kite’s throat. The human rolled across the dirt and got back on his feet, waving one hand as Crazy Slots materialized beside him again.

“I need your help,” he said with a tired sigh.

“Go whine to your goddamn therapist! I have zero interest in fixing your love life!”

“Cut the crap. Roll a number!”

“Drrrrrrrrrr—ZERO!”

The clown flattened like a pancake, face stretching wide, enlarging, then curling backward until it transformed into a shield.

“I don’t remember ever landing on zero…” Kite said, holding the shield with a puzzled frown. “This is supposed to be a weapon?”

“Hey, don’t make it sound like it’s my fault! I’m your creation. Whatever I turn into is just a reflection of your choices,” the shield grumbled, its stretched square mouth still flapping as it spoke. “Don’t lie to yourself. I’m in your subconscious. You know you don’t want to fight her.”

“That’s not the point right now, whether I want it or not—”

“Then test it out. Let’s see what you can do with a shield.” With that, the clown’s mouth snapped shut and it fell silent.

Pitou listened quietly to the whole exchange between Kite and the clown. From what she could gather, Kite didn’t seem to view her as an enemy. She should’ve been offended—should’ve taken it as human arrogance and raged against it. But she knew—this wasn’t Kite looking down on her. It was something else, something she hadn’t yet understood. She had so many questions. But some heavy, oppressive force stopped her from asking them. Perhaps those questions distracted her—her next strike landed squarely on the face of the round shield. It felt oddly soft yet springy. The recoil sent her flying. She sailed backward a good distance, until a tree blocked her path. Her cat tail coiled around a branch, and she landed in a crouch, her feet kicking up a small spray of dirt.

You’re holding back. The voice scolded. Why aren’t you using your Nen ability? With that power, you could kill him with a single strike. Because there’s no need, she murmured to herself. Hand-to-hand combat is enough to deal with him. Yes. That’s why. She told herself again. That human isn’t strong enough. He’s not worth her going all out. That had to be the reason.

She kicked off the ground, launching a high-speed aerial strike from above—so fast it was invisible to the naked eye. But the clown shield suddenly stretched upward, forming a barrier above Kite’s head and blocking her blow just in time.

The clown shield’s elasticity was astounding, appearing precisely at every point she targeted. There wasn’t a single gap to exploit. After several attempts, Pitou still couldn’t land a single hit. And yet, Kite remained purely on the defensive—retreating, evading, never launching a single offensive move. Why? Was he afraid of exposing an opening? Pitou wondered. Because of Kite’s movement, she had to adjust as well—maintaining pressure while chasing him from the clearing into the depths of the forest.

Time had become a blur. The sky darkened into a deeper shade of gray, and the air grew thick, sticky, heavy with impending rain. What she had hoped would be a swift, decisive fight was dragging on, and the frustration began to wear at her.

The length of the battle reminded her of their first encounter—how, even after losing an arm early on, Kite had kept the fight going from nightfall to dawn. Would it unfold the same way this time? Would the human, once again, collapse from exhaustion? Back then, she’d been ready to sever his head, yet an accident stopped her, and that single moment of interruption had changed everything, setting off a chain of events that pulled her further and further away from the path she was supposed to follow.

But fate is merciless. Everything would return, inevitably, to where it was meant to be.

He was her prey. She was his natural predator. He would die an honorable death at her hands. She would present his severed head as proof of her unwavering loyalty. 

Nothing has changed. Everything… just as it was in the beginning.

Pitou landed lightly beside Kite. She heard him let out the faintest sigh. Was he finally tired? Now was her chance. Channeling Gyo , she pinpointed the thinnest point in his aura and brought her claws together, striking at that vulnerable spot.

—but how could this possibly be the same as before? How could nothing have changed? The memories returned—vivid and relentless, like slides flashing through her mind…Kite laughing as birds flew around her. Kite smiling as he accepted the telescope she had given him. Kite patiently explaining how to identify plant species and preserve specimens. Kite gazing at her, his eyes brimming with gentle affection, as he spoke slowly and carefully, word by word:

What kind of life do you want to live? I hope you’ll be like that swallow. You’re more than this…

Her strike finally broke through Kite’s defense. This time, the shield didn’t react fast enough—not because he was exhausted, but because at that moment, Pitou saw it clearly: he had willingly let it go. He had thrown away his last means of protection. “There’s no point in this,” she heard him say, as he lifted his head, allowing her claws to break through his guard. Their eyes met—and in that instant of blurred awareness, she hesitated. Her hands pulled apart.

You’re supposed to wrap those hands around his throat, then twist his head clean off. The voice barked her. But she was already too close—there was no room to reposition. So the first thing her hands touched was not his throat—but his shoulder. His chest.

…In the dim light of the nest, he had told her to turn around. Then he pressed his lips gently to hers. A kiss. They kissed every time they parted. They kissed every time they reunited. On that bed, she was laying there, trembling with anticipation as he kissed her again and again—soft kisses falling across her entire body. His hand had caressed her waist, spread open against the softness of her stomach, then slid even lower... The taste of the human’s lips, the warmth of his palm, the sensation of skin against skin—it all came back to her with piercing clarity. She remembered those moments—brief, private, fleeting as stolen time. And in those moments, she felt…happy.

The moment her claws touched Kite’s body, something trembled inside her. Flashbacks surged through her mind, bursting past every mental barrier in vivid, unruly bloom. What was happening to her? This wasn’t how she was supposed to feel. She should scorn and loathe him as a human, hate and guard against him as a traitor. There was no happiness to be found here. Born as a Royal Guard, the only righteous path to happiness was through absolute service to the King. She was meant to sacrifice everything for the King’s dream. She was supposed to forget herself.

—But how could she forget herself? When Kite made her feel so real —more real than the dirt beneath her paws, the green leaves between the trees, the stars scattered across the heavens. She existed in this world—not for anyone else, not for a cause or a master—but simply, plainly, as a sentient being called Pitou. How could she forget herself? When he made that “self” feel so vital.

Without realizing it, her killing hands softened, slipping to his waist. What should’ve been a gut-ripping slash melted into an embrace. Pitou clung tightly to her human. The momentum was too great to stop. She held him close as they tumbled forward, rolling together until his back thudded against the trunk of a massive tree.

It was a massive willow, Salix pierotii, a Peijin specialty—she recognized the twisted roots and the dark brown flower bracts littering the ground. She found herself nearly sprawled over him, feline ears pressed to his chest, legs tangled stiffly with his. She tucked her legs in, sitting up a bit, long willow strands draping her shoulders. Leaning close, she studied Kite’s face with concern. The human leaned against the trunk, his posture oddly relaxed. His eyes were half-closed, chest rising and falling.

“Are you hurt, meow?” She brushed the dirt from his cheek, stunned to hear guilt in her own voice.

Kite shook his head and opened his eyes to meet hers—eyes filled with a tenderness so deep it seemed to carry something else, too. Something like trust, perhaps.

Warmth surged through her chest. She couldn’t hold back anymore. Still straddling him, she cupped his face with both hands and kissed him—firmly, without hesitation.

Kill him! Kill him! The voice shrieked in her head, over and over. The command remained as clear-cut as ever, but now its tone was frantic, unhinged. Something sharp sliced through her skull—a pain so intense, so blinding she had to pull away from the kiss, trembling, shrinking back. Good—deepening your sin is unwise. Kill him now. It’s your last chance to get back on track. Maybe the voice was right—just obey. Obey, and it’d be simple. Obey, and the pain would stop…

But then Kite’s hands came to her waist. He sat up—and kissed her back. It was the lightest brush of lips, a dragonfly’s touch. A soft reply. And just with that, the ache in her head turned into air, weightless. The command to kill him still echoed faintly in her mind, but it no longer had the power to stop her from whispering: “Kiss me.”

So he did. He kissed her again—a reckless, deep kiss, just as she craved. His tongue traced the roof of her mouth, then swept softly past her teeth. Kill him. The voice came back. But some quiet, steady force—firm yet gentle—muffled its violence, letting her forget the King’s order, forget this was meant to be an execution. All she felt was her human kissing her, the sensation flooding her limbs. He was kissing her—and that was the only thing that mattered now.

A sudden wave of emptiness made Pitou open her eyes. Kite released her lips, his hands still cradling her cheeks, stroking gently. But it wasn’t enough—she knew what more she could take from him. Flashes of those moments floated in her sea of memories, promising the joy waiting ahead.

“More,” Pitou murmured softly. She grabbed Kite’s collar, her legs pushing off the ground to shift forward. The cat settled onto the blond man’s crotch, staring straight into his eyes with unabashed resolve. “I want more.”

The man’s gaze remained steady, unshaken, but his body gave him away. As Pitou sat there, she distinctly felt the contour of a certain part, and it pleased her. Wrapping her arms around Kite’s neck, she nibbled his ear, whispering her longing: “I want you.” Plain words, but enough to draw kisses along her collarbone and a hand slipping beneath her skirt in reply. She wanted him, and he answered her wish.

Kite’s hand wandered near her tail, pressing lightly at its base before stroking along the fur, making Pitou, draped over his shoulder, let out a soft purr. She closed her eyes, savoring his touch, while her hands fumbled to undo his pants. She wanted to take charge this time—last time, he’d cared for her so thoroughly, drowning her in bliss so deep she couldn’t focus on whether he’d felt the same. Now she’d learn to be attentive, to return every ounce of the joy he’d given her.

When she finally unzipped him, ready to lean down for the next step, a sudden noise startled her. Thinking that voice was back, she jerked her head up—only to see Kite’s discarded shield rolling slowly to his side. With a “pop,” it turned back into the clown. “Ugh, this is why I don’t play cupid for your mushy nonsense! Drag me out just to get it on again, and I swear I’m gonna kill y—” The clown didn’t get to finish its rant—Kite waved a hand, and it vanished like a puff of smoke.

“Sorry,” Kite said, gently kneading her cat ears. “What were you about to do?” He couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“Do what you did for me, meow,” she said. Wanting to make him feel good, to give him so much… what? Pitou couldn’t pin down the right word and didn’t bother trying, her attention fixed on Kite’s body, picking up where she’d left off.

Later, she straightened, her slick lips catching his again, tasting his mouth. “That felt great,” he’d said earlier, stroking her silver curls encouragingly. She’d stolen a glance—his face flushed, his grip on her hair tightening. He’d actually enjoyed it. Got that right, she thought smugly. She’d been careful with her sharp teeth, using her tongue more, and it worked well, meow.

Perhaps this was a reckless trespass against time’s decree. As Kite finally entered her, the thought fluttered through her mind like a wayward moth. This place offered no solace—cramped, the earth unyielding beneath them, the willow at their backs swaying to their rhythm, its leaves drifting into her open collar, teasing her skin with an itch. The gloomy sky carried an ominous edge; distant thunder rumbled, and the soil under her knees sent up a damp chill, foretelling rain’s imminent descent. Above all, they were meant to be locked in mortal strife. Yet here she was, defying her King’s command, brazenly perched on her enemy, clutching his shoulders, panting—again. She loved this position; it let her control the rhythm, keeping her from losing herself entirely. But thinking about positions as empowerment was laughable, since joining with a human itself was, for a noble Royal Guard, a grave act of self-debasement. It was all wrong—bad timing, bad place, bad everything. But she wanted him, right here, right now. Just wanted him. The cat thought rebelliously. When pleasure hit, she nipped his neck, leaving a vivid ring of teeth marks.

After everything was over, Pitou still didn’t want to climb off. She rested her head on his shoulder and reached out to brush off the willow leaves clinging to his coat. Kite’s arm stayed around her waist, unmoving, like he too needed a moment to catch his breath. Night had fallen. In the distance, an owl let out a soft hoot. She looked up, but saw nothing beyond the heavy clouds. They had probably all hidden away in tree hollows to avoid the coming rain.

“Ural owl, East Gorteau subspecies. Male,” Kite said, easily identifying the bird from its call. He shifted his legs slightly. “You wanna walk around a bit? There’s willows here, so there’s gotta be water nearby. We could clean up if you’d like.”

Pitou shook her head. “Don’t wanna go anywhere. Just wanna stay here.”

“Alright.” He glanced at the sky. “Might not matter—looks like a big rain’s coming soon. Perfect timing.”

Pitou wanted to savor this rare moment of quiet. She hummed softly in response but said nothing more.

“Are we still in the middle of a duel?” Kite asked after a moment, tossing out the lingering question.

“Probably, I guess,” she mumbled. She didn’t want to think about it.

“I see.” His hand absentmindedly stroked her back. “Know why I ditched that shield?”

Pitou frowned. “Because…it’s just armor? You wanted a better weapon, meow?”

“No. Because I conceded. You won this duel.”

That made her pull back from his arms, sitting up straight. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m done fighting you. I don’t fight pointless battles.”

“That’s not the you I remember. Last time, you lost an arm but still fought until dawn.”

“Last time, I didn’t know you. Back then, you were like some chaotic, deadly omen,” Kite recalled. “But now it’s different. To end a duel, one of us has to die. That means we both need to be ready to kill each other. And I’ve realized—I just don’t have the resolve to kill you anymore. I can’t see you as my enemy.” He looked into her eyes. “I don’t know if you feel the same way, but judging from… what just happened, I don’t think you want to kill me either.”

Not an enemy—then what does he see me as, meow? Pitou wanted to ask, burning with curiosity—but what came out instead was: “That doesn’t matter. You… have to die.” Something was clawing its way back. She felt a heat building behind her temples, her entire brain heavy and clouded.

“Just because it’s the King’s order?” Kite didn’t bother hiding the sarcasm in his tone.

“Yes. Just because of that. And you already admitted your betrayal—said you would never be loyal to or obey the King. If I don’t kill you, you’ll stand in the way of his conquest of the world.” She heard her own voice, but it felt detached, as if someone else outside of her body was speaking through her.

“Your plan will slaughter millions of innocents. Knowing that, I can’t just stand by. Stop this, Pitou. ” Kite’s voice turned deadly serious. “I know it sounds absurd—a weak human expecting a Royal Guard to care about the ethics of prey. No, I’m not asking you to think of humanity’s good. I’m asking you to think of yourself. I’m just one person, with little sway. If too many humans die because of you—past a certain point—I’m afraid…I won’t be able to save you.”

Pitou blinked, baffled. “Save me? What’re you talking about, meow? Why are you always so clueless about your own situation? You’re about to die! And you’re babbling about saving me? From what?”

“From humans.” Pitou found this ridiculous answer at odds with Kite’s earnest expression. “Whether I die or not doesn’t matter, but I don’t believe you have any chance of winning against humanity. This isn’t empty bravado or boasting—it’s a rational conclusion from what I’ve seen. You’re all… too pure. And,” Kite let out a cold scoff, “putting aside how childish it is for him to make ‘conquering the world’ his life’s goal, just look at your King—I don’t think he has the qualities to lead something like that.”

Fear crept up inside Pitou—not because of the blasphemy he’d just uttered, but because a part of her agreed with him. That scared her more than anything. She shot to her feet, shouting, “Shut up! How dare you insult the King’s ideals! That’s what we’ve devoted our lives to!”

“Here we go again—the King’s ideals, the King’s grand vision. Fuck that.” Kite’s voice rose, laced with a fury that teetered on the edge of losing control. He leaned forward sharply, turning his head as if he didn’t want her to see the frustration in his eyes. She had never seen him like this. He was genuinely angry. “What’s that got to do with you? Even if he pulls off his ‘grand vision,’ you’re just a footnote in his epic, a handy slave. Is that your life’s ambition? To let him define your worth? Where’s your dream? Your future? Are you really content to degrade yourself like that?” He exhaled sharply, as if purging a long-bottled storm of outrage, then slumped back against the tree. “Feels good to just say it straight. I’m done dancing around this…”

Pitou stood silent. Her body still hummed with sensitivity, faint tingles between her thighs reminding her of the intimacy she’d shared with the man before her. His words echoed in her mind, ricocheting like a frenzied pinball in a sealed room, bouncing, clattering, refusing to rest until it struck the final brick of the final wall.

My dreams. My future. My worth? What are those? What do they even mean?

She wanted…she yearned…Memories and fantasies intertwined, conjuring vivid scenes before her eyes: in NGL’s verdant wilds, a yellow-footed robin perched on her fingertip; under neon glow, she stood on a bridge, gazing at Yorknew City’s kaleidoscopic skyline; the sea —she lay eyes-closed on the shore, letting the waves wash over her. These visions drew her forward, step by step, until she touched a fogbank—she passed through, only to find herself in a mist-shrouded unknown, beyond the edge of her own imagination. Even in that haze, she could sense it—more awaited her there, more to be uncovered, to be learned. But to reach them, mere imagining wouldn’t suffice. She had to… she needed first to—

Shame! Shame! The voice crashed in, shattering every scene, unraveling every thread of thought. How dare you defy a direct order from the King—And for what? For a vile, cunning human? You’re beyond saving. It sounded familiar—partly Pouf, partly the King, but mostly… she couldn’t quite place it and didn’t care to try. Because this time, it hurt worse than ever. It felt like her brainstem had been twisted into a knot by some monstrous force, Her marrow wrung out, pain surging so violently through her that she collapsed, Clutching her head, teeth clenched—yet a cry of anguish still escaped her lips.

"What’s wrong?" she heard Kite ask—but this time, even his voice couldn’t soothe her. With great effort, she lifted her head to look at him. The human had gotten to his feet, concern written clearly on his face. He took a step forward, as if to pull her into an embrace and ease her pain. But she shrank back, as if sensing danger, forcing herself to bear the agony as she cried out: "Don’t come near me!"

Oh, but he should. Killing him is your top priority—how else will you take his head if he’s not close to you?

“Tell me what’s happening. You look… in pain.” Kite’s voice carried a note of urgency. Ignoring her warning, he took another step. “Was it something I said? I’m sorry. I lost control for a second.”

Look at that. Your little pet is worried he might’ve hurt your feelings. Hah, proof of how pathetic your obsession is.

“Stop talking!” She gripped her cat ears in both hands, digging in her nails,

But the pain refused to yield.

“Okay. I’ll shut up. But I need to understand—what’s hurting you like this all of a sudden?”

“No, I didn’t mean you—” Her words only deepened the confusion on Kite’s face, and why was he still standing there? “—Stay away from me!”

You’re actually thinking of letting him go? Absurd! Clearly, those filthy human genes have wrecked your brain beyond repair. But fortunately, I have always been here. And now, it is time for me to take full control.

Don’t fight it, she heard it say, Relax, obey, and the pain will vanish. The unbearable torment drove her to comply, loosening her resistance for just a fleeting moment. The effect was instant—the pain evaporated, replaced by a numbness that chilled her from within. Her body no longer felt like her own.

A bolt of lightning split the sky. Thunder rolled in its wake. Rain began to fall—fat drops landing on her face, her ears, her hair. She barely registered it. Rising slowly, she stared across the curtain of rain at the human standing before her. Kite hadn’t moved. His eyes were locked on her—watchful, contemplative.

Use that ability. One strike is all it takes.

Pitou stretched out her arms. Something unseen pulled them upward, level with her shoulders. Her lips parted. “Terpsichora.”

A red glow burst from her body. A grotesque clown loomed behind her, threading silk strings through every joint of her limbs. She became a true puppet.

Her mind’s awareness was further stripped away, traded in for a sudden surge of raw physical power. Even her claws were now ten times sharper than before. There was no more hesitation. Pulled forward by the puppet strings, her arms lashed out, claws slicing through the rain toward the human before her.

The human didn’t resist, nor did he dodge. Why?

The question stirred something in her cortex. A few threads snapped. Her arms trembled slightly, just enough that she couldn’t clearly see where exactly her claws had landed. Claws tore through skin. Blood sprayed across her face, diluted instantly by the falling rain. She stuck out her tongue. The taste—metallic and sweet, like rust.

Blood should drive a wild beast mad, pushing it deeper into its primal, violent instincts. But for Pitou, it did the opposite. The taste snapped her awake, jolting her to clarity. Her human was bleeding. What had she just done?

Killing him, of course. You’re his executioner. Well done. Now, take his head.

As her senses returned, the scene sharpened into focus, her vision crystal-clear. She saw Kite staggering back, deep wounds carved into his chest and abdomen. Blood seeped steadily, soaking his shirt in a bloom of dark red.

She froze. The grotesque clown hovered silently overhead.

Go on. Cut off his head.

But she couldn’t move. Why? Why was Kite being like that? The question swallowed her hole, taking up every corner of her mind. In her field of vision, Kite was falling backward. She lunged forward—

End him!

—to catch his back with one arm, the other sliding under his knees. He was drenched, clothes clinging to him with a slick, cold weight. She lifted him into her arms, walked a few steps forward, and gently laid him down beneath the same willow tree.

“Why didn’t you dodge? Why didn’t you run? Why didn’t you use your Nen to defend yourself? Why did you just stand there taking my attack with your body like an idiot? I was really trying to kill you in one strike.” Maybe she’d still kill him, Pitou thought. But before that, she needed answers. She had to hear them from the human himself.

“I know,” Kite whispered. His breath was shallow. Rain streamed down his face, mixing with the blood at the corner of his mouth. “But I told you—I forfeited. I wasn’t going to fight back. In a duel to the death, admitting defeat means I accept the consequences. You have full claim over my body.”

He would rather let me kill him than lift a hand to fight back nyow. Pitou was stunned. She knew—Kite was anything but a coward. He had always faced danger head-on, yet now, strangely, he chose to surrender himself to her, showing no resistance, making it clear he was ready for whatever she decided. Had he lost his mind? Did he really want to die that badly? Or was it—

Then grant his wish. Finish him. If you can’t do it, I’ll do it for you.

The pain returned, sharp and blinding like a blade cleaving her skull. She shut her eyes, trying to steady her breath, gritting her teeth, holding on—barely keeping her thoughts from unraveling completely.

When she opened her eyes again, she found Kite looking at her with quiet pity. “Is it really that painful,” he asked softly, “to not follow their orders?”

Somehow, she wished he would speak less. The last strike from Terpsichora hadn’t been instantly fatal, but it had torn through vessels, tendons, even internal organs. It was serious—

left untreated, he’d bleed out before long. Talking would strain his muscles, hastening the bleeding, and it probably hurt, too.

So, ending him would spare him some suffering, right?

But she still had a question, one she hadn’t managed to ask before. She needed to know—

“I remembered what you said earlier… that this fight no longer mattered to you, because you couldn’t see me as your enemy. Why?” She leaned in, nearly on all fours, rain dripping from the ends of her silver hair onto his knee. Her crimson eyes fixed on his face.

The human’s eyes were half-closed. A faint smile touched his lips—wry, almost self-mocking, yet utterly sincere:

“Because I love you.”

The answer stunned her for a moment. What was that just nyow? But in the next heartbeat, something unnamed surged through her like a flood, crashing through every fragile dam inside her. Love. She remembered now. That word. A word she had read in books, many times—but always skimmed over, never grasping the weight behind it until this very moment. 

Neurons lit up in her mind like scattered stars, now drawn into constellations. Countless strands of information wove themselves into new circuits. Countless memories spilled forth. Countless confusions found their rightful places. Her head still throbbed, the voice shrieking for her to finish the task, to execute the final step. But it couldn’t sway her now. She tasted salt in the rainwater seeping past her lips and realized, startled, that tears were streaming down her face.

“Because I love you, I’m willing to let you choose my fate.”

Choose. A concept foreign to her short life. Why choose? There had only ever been one way: the right way. Yet Kite, using himself as the lever, had thrust the power of choice into her hands. Such a willful, reckless act—and yet, coming from him, it felt…wise. What a cunning human. Suddenly, Pitou understood why, despite being her captive so long, he never acted caged, why he believed she was the one who needed liberation.

His heart had always been free—and that made her… helplessly drawn to him.

Blood had stained the grass beneath him dark red. His face had grown pale from blood loss. Pitou’s hand trembled as she reached for the vial of butterfly scale dust. To her surprise, it was still intact. Time was running out. She had to make a decision.

“Take my head, or leave me here to die alone—whatever you choose, I won’t resent you. But I hope—because I love you, I truly hope—” Through her tear-blurred vision, she saw Kite’s eyes widen, staring at her, as if summoning his last shred of strength.

“—that you’ll live for yourself, Pitou. Live for yourself!”

Chapter Text

Silvery scales drifted down, landing softly on Kite’s shoulder like snow. They settled into the fresh wounds on his chest and abdomen, quickly dissolving into a wash of deep crimson. 

Pitou pressed her hand gently against the red, feeling the blood flow slow almost instantly beneath her touch. She watched as his eyes began to close, the tight furrow of his brows easing, his body relaxing, as if he were truly dying. The sudden realization sent a jolt of panic through her. She moved her bloodstained paw, hovering it over his face, and checked for breath. Still steady.

In that moment, her thoughts were simple: Wounds made by her claws must hurt terribly. At least the powder's anesthetic would keep him from feeling pain.

Death feels nothing at all. Good. Enough with this mock compassion. Now, take off his head.

It was like a thousand needles piercing straight through her skull. The pain the voice brought was bottomless, pure torment. She knew that if she simply obeyed, the agony would vanish. In a haze, her hand drifted toward the human’s throat. Her fingertips, sharp as blades, pressed into the delicate skin, creating a shallow dent. Just a bit more force, and the task would be complete…

“I hope you’ll live for yourself, Pitou!”

What nonsense was that?

It was just nonsense, just a jarring note in the symphony of obedience that defined her nature as a chimera ant. And yet, it echoed in her ears, again and again. From faint to distinct, from foreign to familiar, until she finally recognized it: It was Kite. It was the last thing he’d said before losing consciousness. And it called to her now, pulling her back, giving her the strength to awaken—

Painfully awake.

Her hand slipped from the human’s neck, brushed past his shoulder, and dropped, limp, to her side.

His words hovered like a cushion beneath her, refusing to let her fall again into the void. She knew she had to think, even if doing so meant enduring pain twice as great.

“I love you.”

She heard him say it. And in that instant, something within her knew—all the agony had been worth it. At the moment Kite said he loved her, she suddenly understood: his place in her life had already, irrevocably, changed.

What was he to her? It was a question she had never dared examine seriously.

Prey? A toy? A pet? An honored guest?

No. None of those were right.

The puzzled little cat switched angles—What was she to Kite?

He had never clearly defined their relationship, but even when she’d tried to kill him, he had still cast aside his shield and said he could no longer see her as an enemy. And then he said—

“I love you.”

That sentence rang again in her ears.

Love. Lover. Romance. Words born from the root of "love" flooded her mind, so unfamiliar, yet so weighty. She recalled the moments of intimacy she had shared with Kite, holding them up against the passages she'd once skimmed in books: Kite was her love. They were lovers.…Weren’t they? Could their bond truly run that deep?

And if it did—how could something so profound ever be severed by a mere order?

What did it mean to be lovers? Emotional and physical closeness, a shared joy in the present, the building of a future together. She pieced this together from the knowledge she had scavenged in human books. If she were to ask, Kite would likely say the same. They matched every definition she could summon, except the one about the future. So… where was their future?

Follow your King and help him conquer the world! That voice commanded.

But where is your future? she heard Kite say.

He had asked her to choose—to choose his fate. But wasn’t that, in truth, an invitation for her to choose her own?

To choose love. To choose freedom. To choose to accept her desires and listen to the voice within. To choose… to live for herself.

These realizations surged within her like floodwater, stirring both elation and disorientation. Thoughts sprouted like green shoots after rain. For the first time, life felt within reach, graspable by her own two claws. She had the right to steer it, rather than surrender it to fate or offer it to the gods.

Your life does not belong to you. It belongs to the King.

That voice arrived right on cue, its aim to grip her throat. But now, it was futile. She would simply keep walking, deeper into her own thoughts—Was that what it had been all along? Had the King stood, in her mind, as some divine figure from human religion: untouchable, unquestionable, omnipresent? This sacred mental territory had always felt off-limits.

But now she had crossed a line that had never truly existed, stepped outside the chain, and from this new vantage point, it suddenly didn’t seem like such a big deal.

The King, like her, was born of the same womb. He laughed, cried, hungered for knowledge, and cared for certain humans.

Maybe… he wasn’t perfect. Maybe he made mistakes. Maybe he, too, hurt those closest to him. Maybe he still needed time to reflect, to better understand himself and the world around him.

Maybe, he was just another sentient creature on this Earth, not a god.

This revelation was a key, unlocking Pandora’s box, and from it spilled even more questions.

If the King wasn’t divine, then where did their hierarchy even come from?

It’s in your nature. It came from the Chimera Ants’ societal structure: a system where all resources were ceded to the King, and every ant existed solely for his birth and reign. A framework forged through hundreds of millions of years of evolution, the design best suited for the species’ survival.

She knew the answer. It’s in your nature. A cold, brutal truth. Her very purpose in life was to be the King’s servant—or as Kite had put it, his slave.

But this time, she didn’t stop there. She didn’t accept the voice in her head telling her to submit to her fate. Instead, she asked herself:

Yes, perhaps that structure had formed over millions of years, but that was before Chimera Ants merged with human genes, before they gained intelligence, before they learned to think and feel. Maybe the old ways no longer applied. And even if they did, was something inherently right just because it had always been?

If the answer was no, then what gave the King the right to dictate her entire life?

Once again, she recalled Kite’s wish for her: Live for yourself. And suddenly, she understood what that truly meant.

Beyond the grand, golden path lit by the King’s brilliance, she saw another road—a narrow one, thorn-covered and broken, shrouded in fog. She could not see where it led. 

To walk that path meant betraying the purpose written into her very DNA. And such betrayal would demand a price.

But it was a path forged by her own will. It was where her heart yearned to go.

She was ready now, ready to take the first step.

But what was that first step? The cold raindrops landing on her cat ears pulled her back into the present. Kite lay slumped against the tree, his face calm, as if caught in a pleasant dream.

The effect of the scale dust was just as Pouf had said—she had trusted Pouf, and, for once, the deceitful butterfly hadn't lied. Yet at the same time, Kite’s face was steadily losing color. There wasn’t much time left. She had to act. Now.

She wanted her lover to live. That was her most desperate wish, the foundation upon which all future possibilities rested. This time, she surrendered freely and willingly to her feelings. Reason and emotion aligned, pointing in the same direction, urging her to act without hesitation, without leaving herself any room to retreat.

The cat leaned in and placed her hand over Kite’s wound. Blood still seeped through her fingers, refusing to stop. She remembered the bird-roosting evening primrose that grew everywhere in the Mitene Union—Kite had once crushed a few leaves and pressed them to her injured hand to stop the bleeding. She frantically searched through the surrounding grass, gathering two or three stems, crushing them in her palm and smearing the mixture, laced with a bit of aura, over the deep red pool on his abdomen. 

But it was quickly clear: with injuries this severe, her efforts were a mere drop in the ocean, nothing compared to Doctor Blythe. And she knew she couldn’t summon that convenient, life-saving ability. The moment she did, all her puppets would vanish, and that would surely alert the King and the other Royal Guards, putting Kite, already hanging by a thread, in even greater danger.

What now, meow…? The familiar grip of panic began crawling up her spine. She couldn’t stop herself from imagining Kite dying in front of her, a vision that left her breathless with dread. She forced herself to breathe, to think. She had to prevent the worst. Kite needed to be taken somewhere safe, somewhere he could receive proper treatment, but she couldn’t do it alone.

Just as the weight of helplessness threatened to crush her, a memory flashed through her mind—the King’s earlier deduction: that Kite might still be in contact with his allies, and one of them might possess an ability strong enough to get him out safely, just like they nearly had back in NGL.

Hours ago, that theory had been the King’s sole reason for sentencing her human to death. But now, that very same theory has become her lifeline.

There was no time to lament the irony of fate. She reached out with both hands, searching through the rain-soaked folds of Kite’s shirt, hoping desperately to find a clue. If the King’s guess was correct, there had to be some trace of communication between Kite and his companions. With an all-or-nothing determination, she kept searching, her movements focused, frantic. She had entirely forgotten the whispering voice in her mind, until it suddenly surged in volume:

You’ll regret this.

Every time that voice returned, it felt like her skull might split apart. But this time, something steadied her. Something gave her strength, and she held her breath just long enough to keep her thoughts from unraveling.

No. Something felt off. She had always assumed that voice represented her reason, that its purpose was simply to pull her back from the edge, to keep her from falling too deep into emotion. But now that she’d calmed herself enough to truly think, she realized it wasn’t that at all. Her usual inner world, when she spoke or made decisions, was multi-layered—sometimes tranquil, sometimes curious, sometimes full of yearning. But that voice…that voice always lurked like a beast ready to pounce. It was poised for attack, always taut, always on edge. When it took control, it swallowed every last emotion she had, leaving her hollow, numb with hatred and resentment. And the more her connection to herself solidified, the more she became aware of the distance between her and that voice. It didn’t belong to her. And yet, she had no idea where it came from. Just a strange familiarity clung to it, no matter what form it took.

But now wasn’t the time to trace its origin. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she kept her hands moving, trying to focus, trying to understand where the voice came from—

You have betrayed the King.

Her left palm brushed across something irregular over Kite’s chest. The cat gently slid two fingers inside the fold, and shakily pulled out a folded scrap of paper.

Part of it had been burned, and the rain had blurred the writing beyond recognition. But that was no trouble for the keen eyes of a feline Chimera Ant. The paper showed a crudely drawn crescent moon. Below it, a puddle—or perhaps a lake, though Pitou found that hard to determine, given the artist’s questionable drawing skills. The puddle was ringed by rows of generic-looking trees. Only at the eleven o’clock position did something stand out—a single, unmistakable fruit. Everything else had been burned away.

You found evidence of the human conspiring with the enemy, and instead of killing him and returning the note to the King for review, you’re going to help that filthy creature escape? Disgusting.

Pitou noticed that the fruit had been drawn with surprising care, completely different from the rest of the hastily sketched map. She held the paper at both ends and brought it close to her face. The fruit had a thick shell colored in green pen, with a few intentionally exaggerated bristles. The core had soaked through in the rain, leaving the ink smudged, but she could still make out the dark, oval shape.

The drawing was crude, but it captured all the essential features. Pitou recognized it almost immediately. The thorny fruit belonged to a new species of horse chestnut native to the region. Its ancestors might’ve drifted here on ocean currents from the shores of Yorknew, as Kite once explained to her. That fruit had calmed her, and had stayed her hand from killing him that day. It had marked the beginning of everything between them.

And now, perhaps it would also mark the end.

She finally understood what it meant to contact Kite’s allies. After keeping him imprisoned for over a month, she was about to return him to the world of humans—of her own volition.

Letting him go.

Even just a day ago, that had been the thing she wanted least in the world. But now…she could no longer have everything.

You will pay the price.

As all her emotions surged past their restraints like waves crashing over the shore, Pitou’s mind grew clearer than it had ever been. She thought: What kind of life would Kite want?

An image surfaced—the blond man striding through the wilderness, serene yet radiant with purpose. Birdsong and blossoms surrounded him, green stretching to the horizon. He turned to glance at her, his gaze somewhere between a question and an invitation.

That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? A life close to nature, free, unshackled, unfettered.

It would be easy to make that happen, easier than any of the questions that demanded she change her own fate. Then yes, she was ready to change something. Even if that change meant farewell. And so, the wish to grant him freedom rose naturally to the top of her priorities, echoing the very same wish he’d had for her. It even began to eclipse her desire to keep him by her side forever. 

She loved the version of Kite that was vibrant, alive in those moments—more than she loved this fragile, fading shadow of him.

She wanted him to keep blooming, wherever he was, whenever he woke, even if they were oceans apart.

When would he awaken? What would he do afterward? She had no way of knowing. Maybe he would come to see the time he spent imprisoned by her as nothing but a bitter stain in his past, something best left behind. He was human after all. Pitou recalled Pouf’s warning.

Everything had started because of her. And if this really was the price she had to pay—then she would pay it willingly.

Pitou recalled Kite’s earlier reminder: there had to be a water source near the willow tree.

If she followed it, maybe she could find the lake from the drawing. Before leaving the shade of the tree, she withdrew the Nen she’d been using to slow his bleeding and quickly checked his condition one last time.

His wounds were still seeping, but perhaps due to some miraculous synergy between the butterfly scales and the herbs, his blood loss had slowed far more than she had expected. Even the internal organs she’d nearly destroyed were just barely holding on. He had been on the brink of death. Now, that path had stretched longer. She estimated she had about two hours. Good. That would be enough.

You disobeyed a direct order from the King. You betrayed the King. You will pay the price.

She reached out to cradle the human’s legs, hoisting him onto her back. Kite wasn’t heavy, but he was taller than her, his head slumped against her shoulder, a few strands of drenched blond hair trailing over her chest. She stood up. Countless willow branches brushed against her cat ears. The rain had eased, but the muddy ground was still unpleasant underfoot.

Before long, she found a narrow, fast-flowing stream. Following the mist rising above it, she traced it downstream, and soon, the lake began to reveal itself through the trees.

You betrayed the King. There’s still time to make it right. Kill him.

It hurts. This time, the pain didn’t stay confined to her head. It twisted through her whole body—like her insides were being stirred with a jagged blade.

Stop now. End this. Kill him. There’s still a way back.

Her legs felt as if they were bound in chains. Each step took tremendous effort. But she could not stop. She kept the features Kite had described fixed in her mind, forcing herself forward, step by step, circling the lake in search of the trees that matched the crude drawing.

This is my final warning.

Her vision began to blur. A creeping darkness like thorned vines spread from deep within her, coiling around her lungs, her heart, her gut, leaving her dizzy and faint.

There was fear— Final warning? What comes after? How bad will it be?  

There was guilt— That voice is right. This is betrayal. This is failure. I’ve broken the King’s trust. I...

But she didn’t regret it.

That voice buzzed in her ears, recounting her sins, like thousands of maggots gnawing at her entrails. Her fangs sank into her own lip. Sweat beaded on her brow. She endured. But she did not regret anything at all. She would not turn back.

This was her choice.

Disgusting. Destroy him now.

Feline night vision was remarkably sharp. Despite all the distractions, Pitou spotted it from afar—a tree belonging to the horse chestnut family, standing alone at the edge of the lake. A few half-rotted fruits lay beneath its trunk, plainly visible. The first new species they discovered. Pitou remembered.

This tree was far too familiar to her. She had once fought Kite beneath a similar one in NGL, and later, he had picked its leaves and fruit to make specimens. He had told her it was a completely new species, not yet documented in any database, unnamed. Could she name it, then? As its discoverer? Just like Kite had wanted to name that swallow subspecies after her? Maybe she could name this one after him. Was she allowed to do that? Maybe she could…

Kill him. Destroy him. Destroy him. Destroy him. Destroy—

The pain, like vermin gnawing at her flesh, spread across her entire body. The voice kept repeating the same words, over and over again, until her vision blurred and cleared in waves, grotesque hallucinations flashing before her eyes. Her strong legs felt trapped in a bog, each step becoming nearly unbearable. She knew why: she was disobeying orders, not passively, but actively and absolutely opposing the King’s command. That human’s influence had reached its peak. It was strong enough now to push her to rebel against her nature as an ant. She was fighting a system—a system embedded into every cell of her body. It was almost an impossible feat.

She didn’t know how much more she could give, how much more she would have to sacrifice. But it felt like a bottomless abyss.

Can’t take it already? This is only the beginning.

He shall judge all. Whether it’s the spark of defiance, or the consciousness that fuels it. He shall erase it all.

She knew: if she gave up now, if she killed Kite, everything would return to normal. The pain would end. The voice would vanish. She could bring back the human’s head as a trophy, resume her duties as Royal Guard, serve her King, offer him strategies, shield him with her life, until he conquered the world. How right. How simple.

And yet, she kept walking.

Destroy him, destroy him, destroy him, destroy him, destroy—

She felt as though she’d spent an eternity fighting the endless whisper, its torment draining her strength. Kite grew heavier on her back, heavier with every step…But finally, the tree was within reach. And just then, her En detected a familiar yet troubling Nen presence approaching. It was getting closer.

Who was that? Pitou immediately crouched down and let Kite slide from her back—he landed right beside the tree that resembled a horse chestnut. Tension creeping through her limbs, the cat blinked rapidly in thought, then grabbed a fruit from the grass and hurled it toward the lake. It arced through the air and landed with a crisp plop, quickly resurfacing.

If Kite’s companion is really nearby, Pitou thought, that sound should be enough to alert them.

But then she noticed, that presence wasn’t Kite’s comrade at all. It was—Pouf? Why is he here?

Obviously to kill the human who’s bewitched you. And to kill you. The voice echoed with syrupy sweetness, seeping into her nerves with a terrifying familiarity—like a black hole from some ancient, monstrous age, sucking in her fractured skull and brain with it.

She clutched her head, reeling from the twisting pain, staggering a few paces away from Kite. Something wet and slimy squirmed inside her skull. She had the sudden urge to slam her head against a nearby tree just to shake it loose.

Don’t bother. You’ll never be rid of me.

Rustle, rustle. She thought she heard a faint sound, and when she snapped back to awareness, Kite was gone. He had vanished from the base of the tree.

Before she could even register what that meant, a wave of vertigo crashed over her. Her En warned her Pouf was drawing closer. She raised her eyes toward the edge of the forest, and was met with a grotesque hallucination: colorful, countless corpses hung neatly from the trees, flattened, dried like parchment, then painted in garish hues.

Their faces were unrecognizable. But their bulging eyes, and one broken cat ear, told her: they were all her. Pitou stepped toward one of them. The shriveled skull cracked open, and dozens of pink worms burst forth, crawling across her skin and shrieking with laughter: See? This is what you get for betraying the King.

That same voice, spewing nonsense, devoid of reason.

She couldn’t remember when she’d first noticed it. Perhaps it had started the day the King was born. Or earlier. Back then, it still carried her own voice. Later, it sometimes sounded like Pouf, sometimes like the King, shifting freely—until today, its tone had grown twisted and strained, like threads unraveling, like a devil tearing off its disguise in frustration, desperate to reveal its true form.

And somehow, its voice stirred something in her memory. She was so close to remembering…

Who was it?

She knew what it was so enraged about. Kite was gone. Her disobedience to the King's order was now an irrefutable fact, there was no more room for redemption.

She understood: a human’s life or death was trivial in itself, but her act of disobedience was unforgivable. The reaction of that voice was far too violent. Within its terrifying wrath lurked something else, something hysterical.

Fear. Pitou recognized it. What was it afraid of?

The command to kill Kite had vanished. The blade had shifted direction—and now pointed squarely at her.

More worms burst from the other desiccated corpses. Some dropped to the ground, some leapt onto her head, some burrowed into her ears. They all spoke with the same voice, repeating the same words, over and over, a relentless cacophony echoing through her mind:

Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. Destroy yourself. 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The command to self-destruct was now etched across every inch of her being—inside and out, top to bottom, from every direction. It was irresistible. Undeniable. Even an indestructible wall would be bent and twisted by now, so what chance did a mere cat have?

Her strength suddenly gave out. Pitou collapsed to her knees with a heavy thud, then lurched forward and retched violently into the bushes beside her. She didn't know how much time passed. Perhaps it wasn’t until her body screamed in warning from dehydration that she finally stopped. Dazed, she stared at her own vomit—it glistened in a vivid shade of blue, the color of her blood. Laced within the blue were streaks of nauseating pink. She thought she saw a few writhing worms, struggling, gloating, mocking her with the twisted triumph of survival:

I told you. You’ll never get rid of me. No matter how you tamper with your body, vomiting won’t help. Stop resisting. Accept your fate.

Pitou shook her head, trying to regain some semblance of clarity. The rain had stopped. Her vision finally began to focus. Staggering to her feet, she stumbled toward the lake, intent on scooping a handful of water to wash her face.

When she reached the water’s edge and looked down at her reflection, what stared back at her was not her own face, but a familiar insectoid head.

Long before you were born, back when you were still just a clump of flesh, I was already a part of your body. I’ve always been here, and I always will be.

Her birth. That word triggered something. Yes. She remembered now, the final form of that voice.

She had heard it before she was even born. It had once whispered to her, sang to her, poured into her all its dreams—dreams that had nothing to do with her.

The voice belonged to the Queen. The Chimera Ant Queen. Her creator. Her mother.

Destroy yourself.

Pitou couldn’t look away. She stared helplessly into its eyes. Those black compound eyes in the water stared back, expressionless and cold, radiating only scrutiny, as if demanding she recognize her true form. Her vision filled with those terrifying eyes. The pores between them clustered densely together, and as she peered into their depths, there was nothing, only bottomless blackness. And she felt herself falling—plunging straight into it...

The world around her shifted into an eerie shade of amber. She raised a hand—an ant’s jointed limb, and realized she was inhabiting the body of the creature behind those compound eyes, viewing the world through an insect’s gaze. She saw the Chimera Ant Queen gently stroke its slightly swollen abdomen with its forelimbs, gazing up at three enormous egg sacs hanging from the ceiling of the nest.

It rose unsteadily, shuffling closer to one of them.

Inside, a small body floated in the clear amniotic fluid, curled tightly. A pair of developing cat ears, like pointed horns, stood out distinctly.

Pitou recognized it immediately. It was her.

The Queen reached out a foreleg. Pitou thought it was going to caress the egg, but it merely poked at the membrane, testing its strength like one might inspect fruit.

Then, the Queen lowered its head, pacing slowly beneath the three eggs, whispering to its belly with tender reverence:

“Soon... very soon. You’re almost here, my child, the savior of the Chimera Ants. You will stand at the apex of all species. All living things shall bow before you. I’ve already foreseen it—you will be the strongest, the most intelligent creature in the world...”

“But that alone isn’t enough. Not yet! This world is more cruel than you can imagine, even the strongest can fall in an instant to forces unknown. You must be omniscient. You must be perfect! And I’ve prepared a flawless plan just for that.”

The Queen’s antennae twitched gently. It turned and gestured toward the three eggs meant for the Royal Guards:

“See them? They will be your most precious assets, your most loyal servants. They will protect you, nurture you, serve you—devote their lives to you. With their aid, you will grow strong. With their help, you will conquer the world. Until one day, when you no longer need them...when your strength surpasses everything, when you approach perfection…”

Pitou suddenly understood what the Queen was about to say.

“On that day, they will offer you one final service: their flesh and their blood.

And you, my child, you will consume them, as your ancestors once did—in the old ways of our kind. You will devour them, digest them. They will become your greatest nourishment. And through that, you will become perfect. You will become a god. ”

The Queen cradled its belly with loving tenderness, like a mother sending off a beloved child on their first journey.

“When I created them, I already wrote this destiny into their being. Do you hear me, my darling? This is the greatest gift I can leave you.”

Do you hear me? It was all written long ago. This is the sole purpose of your existence.

The Queen’s voice echoed in Pitou’s ears. The world spun, and the dim cave faded away. Once more, the crystal-clear lake returned before her, its surface reflecting a face devoid of expression, her own.

She felt no pain. No sorrow. She felt nothing.

All she knew with perfect clarity was this: That voice, the visions she saw, the countless strange reactions of her body, none of it had been imagined. They were not emotions she could master or suppress. They were real. It was the manifestation of the Queen’s will. A true ability, not illusion. The power of the Ants’ creator.

And this will, woven deliberately into every inch of her body, would not rest until it was fulfilled.

Not until she completed her final purpose. Not until she became nourishment for the King. Not until she was utterly consumed.

There was no grand vision, no noble ideal. She was no different from those edible humans.

Maybe she could choose to rebel. Yes, she had chosen rebellion. But she hadn’t realized who she was rebelling against. She had underestimated it. So had Kite—humans always carried their limitations, even one as learned as him. The fiercer her resistance, the fiercer the backlash. Like a human body resisting its own immune system, the end result would always be the same: annihilation. It would remain in her body forever, tormenting her, rendering her existence worse than death, until death finally came.

What could love change? Reality would not shift to fit one’s wishes.

I told you. Struggle is futile. You have no choice.

Pitou continued to stare blankly into the water. The summer night after rain should have been cool and pleasant, yet as the warm breeze brushed past her skin, she trembled as though she stood in the teeth of a bitter frost.

The lake before her exhaled cold air.

Destroy yourself.

The feline raised her paws. She noticed the circular joints between her knuckles. They looked like the carapace of an insect.

“Why are you still here? What are you doing?” The familiar voice snapped Pitou out of her trance. She blinked, frowning slightly, realizing her hands had somehow ended up pressed to her neck. Following the voice, she turned. Not far off stood Pouf, arms crossed, his face gaunt and drawn with exhaustion.

When he saw her face, his eyes widened. “You look terrible.”

“You’re not exactly thriving either,” Pitou replied, gazing at the bloodshot veins in his eyes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be serving the King? Why are you here looking for me? And, how did you even find me without using En, huh?”

Pouf looked as if he were suffocating. He drew in a deep breath. “His Majesty drove me away,” he said. “He wanted to play chess with that woman in private. Said I was getting in the way. I begged him to at least let Youpi stay nearby to watch over things just in case, but apparently he doesn’t mind Youpi standing guard outside. Me, though? Not allowed. So I wandered around, bored out of my mind… and figured I’d come find you.”

His voice was eerily calm, a stark contrast to his usual theatrics. It made Pitou feel uneasy, like some part of the butterfly’s mind had finally collapsed for good.

“Yes, I didn’t use En, ” he continued. “But you’re carrying my scales. So…”

“You planned this.”

“That wasn’t my intention. If I’d really wanted to manipulate you, I could’ve made your human—”

“I know. You didn’t lie to me. Thank you.”

“So where is that human? I mean his head. It’s nearly time to report back to the King. Even if you insisted on giving him a noble death, with your strength you should’ve finished the job long ago.” He glanced around the area briefly, then frowned. “Wait, why are you alone?”

She sighed. “He’s gone.”

“What?”

“I said… he’s gone.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” For a moment, Pouf’s face twisted from confusion into fear. “You didn’t…”

“I lost. It’s that simple.”

Destroy yourself.

“Don’t joke.”

“I lost.” Her eyes drifted past Pouf, hollow and unfocused, as if searching for something that wasn’t there.

Pouf narrowed his gaze and studied her for a long moment.

“I should kill you right here,” he said at last. “But you clearly intend to go back and face His Majesty’s judgment yourself. Fine. I won’t overstep. Wouldn’t want to be accused of insubordination.” He glared at her. “Just don’t expect me to plead for your life.”

“You’re right,” Pitou said. “Let’s go.”

That’s fine. If you didn’t have the spine to destroy yourself, then let the King do it for you.

Pitou dusted the mud from her clothes and began walking toward the Presidential Palace. Pouf followed close behind.