The first place I decided on?

The Regional Network District, the heart of the capital’s commerce.

Not because it was wide and filled with all kinds of beastmen, but because it was exactly the kind of place where coincidences happened.

Specifically...

"accidental" ones.

There would be too many people, too much movement, too many distractions. Even if someone just happened to appear out of nowhere—say, a certain someone named Gawain—it wouldn’t raise suspicion.

Not to Soren.

Hopefully.

At most, he’d probably just assume I wanted to explore.

Which, technically, wasn’t a lie. Just... not the full truth.

I pulled out my OmniSync and began typing, "Regional Network District."

I tilted the screen toward him.

He glanced at it, then at me. "...That’s the busiest district in the capital."

I blinked at him. ’Exactly.’

"Fine."

Oh. That was easier than expected.

We started walking, and I made sure to look around like everything we passed was the most fascinating thing I had ever seen in my entire life.

Which—okay, to be fair—wasn’t entirely fake.

There were shops with floating displays, vendors selling things I couldn’t even identify, and buildings that looked like they were designed by someone who refused to believe in straight lines.

Every few steps, something new caught my attention, and I leaned slightly in Soren’s arms just to get a better look.

Soren, meanwhile, kept walking like he had a destination in mind, occasionally glancing down at me as if trying to figure out whether I was genuinely amazed or just... suspiciously invested in everything.

The further we went, the more the atmosphere began to shift.

The streets grew wider.

The buildings taller.

The number of people steadily increased until it felt like the entire city had decided to gather in one place.

The air buzzed with energy—voices overlapping, footsteps echoing, merchants calling out, devices chiming.

We finally arrived at the Regional Network District.

’Wow...’

This place wasn’t just busy—it was alive in a way that felt almost overwhelming. Massive structures towered above us, their surfaces covered in glowing panels and moving displays. Walkways stretched in multiple directions, some even layered above others, with people constantly flowing through them like an endless current.

"We’re here," Soren said, casually rubbing my head like I wasn’t about to lose a very important internal battle.

I didn’t answer immediately because my eyes were fully focused on the rows of food stalls beside us.

Colorful.

Steaming.

Bubbling.

Sizzling.

And—glowing.

’Why was it glowing?

Why was anything glowing??’

Every stall looked like it had been designed specifically to destroy my self-control. Skewers shimmered like they were enchanted, pastries looked too perfect to exist, and drinks literally changed color when people shook them like they were casually holding liquid rainbows.

I leaned forward slightly in Soren’s arms, staring.

I gulped. ’Focus.’

No, wait—

’But it’s food.’

"...Food..." something whispered in my ear.

I blinked. ’...Did it just talk?’

I froze then slowly looked around, everyone else was busy.

’Okay, so I’m just hallucinating.’

I turned my head, trying to look like I wasn’t seconds away from abandoning all plans for a bite of whatever that golden, crispy, definitely-life-changing thing was.

I’m a strong independent leopard who don’t need food—

"Try me..." the food whispered seductively.

I snapped my head back. ’YES—’

NO.

I shook my head again, harder this time, like I could physically eject the temptation from my brain.

’What was I doing again?’

The plan.

Signal Agatha.

Gawain "accidentally" appears.

I act shocked.

Then...

My gaze unconsciously drifted back to the stalls.

One of them was sparkling.

...Then I introduce Gawain to Soren...

Another food that is glowing tickled my nose.

I inhaled it.

’Bad idea.’

It smelled amazing.

My soul left my body for a second.

And then... right... after that...

I blinked.

’After that...?’

...

What was after that?

Where was I?

Who was I?

What is a plan?

I stared blankly ahead as my entire strategy dissolved into nothingness, replaced entirely by the overwhelming presence of food.

I exhaled. ’I surrender.’

With zero hesitation and absolutely no dignity left to protect, I grabbed Soren’s sleeve and tugged it, pointing excitedly at the food stalls like I had just discovered the meaning of life.

’Who cares about the plan if I’m being personally attacked by appetizing, aromatic, borderline-sentient cuisine?’

"We just ate for breakfast a while ago," Soren said, sounding like a man trying to be the voice of reason. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

And yet, despite that, he still bought a skewer.

A beautiful, glorious, slightly glowing skewer.

He held it out in front of me as I excitedly leaned forward and took a bite, immediately forgetting my own name.

It was that good.

The texture? Perfect. The flavor? Illegal. The seasoning? Definitely not approved by any governing body.

I almost melted on the spot.

If I had knees, they would have given up on me.

"This..." I scrambled for my OmniSync, typing with urgency, crumbs probably still on my face. "You should try it! It’s delicious!"

He raised a brow, looking mildly amused at my very obvious life-changing experience, but he took a bite anyway. "You like this?" he asked.

I nodded immediately—no hesitation, no shame—already opening my mouth again like I had fully accepted my role in life as someone who gets fed.

He didn’t even question it.

He just fed me another bite.

As he should.

"Then should I buy a hundred of these and send them to the estate?" he asked casually, like he was suggesting we pick up an extra carton of milk and not proposing something completely unhinged.

I froze mid-chew. ’A hundred?’

"That’s definitely unnecessary!"

"But you said you like it..."

I typed again, this time with more force, each tap of the screen filled with frustration. "That doesn’t mean I’ll be eating the same food over and over!"

Liking something once does not mean committing to it for the rest of my existence.

I refuse.

I have standards.

I have variety.

I have taste.

I huffed slightly, then took another bite from the skewer he was still holding.

"Then we’ll just taste everything here until I find out what you like," he said, smiling at me like he had just come up with a brilliant, harmless idea.

I blinked. ’He’s joking, right?’

...

He was not joking.

—

Somehow that statement turned into a full-blown activity.

We went from stall to stall like food critics who had lost all sense of restraint. One skewer turned a burger, the burger turned into shawarma, and shawarma turned into something I don’t want to remember anymore.

By the time we reached the tenth stall, I had accepted my fate.

By the fifteenth, I had lost track of what I was eating.

By the twentieth—

I was a well-fed, slightly overwhelmed, extremely satisfied victim.

I looked at Soren.

He, on the other hand, was thriving. He was enjoying every second of this.

He would chuckle every time my cheeks puffed up from being overstuffed. He’d casually wipe crumbs off my face like it was part of his daily routine. At one point, he even teased me by holding the food just out of reach for a second before giving it to me.

I had never felt so disrespected in my life and yet I kept eating because it is still food.

We had just reached our twenty-first stall when someone approached him.

"Commander, we have a problem."

I turned my head, squinting slightly. ’I’ve seen this guy before...’

He had that familiar "overworked and underpaid" look. Neat uniform, stiff posture, and the kind of expression that screamed I have not slept properly in three business days.

Something in me clicked.

Spade.

He was one of the men there when Soren carried me back to his aircraft.

I stared at him a little more closely.

Yes.

Same face.

Same "please don’t make this harder than it already is" energy.

Soren didn’t even look at him.

"Can’t you see that I’m busy?" he replied, his voice instantly shifting into that cold, commanding tone, the one that made people stand straighter and rethink their life choices.

"Commander," Spade continued, looking like a man who was one inconvenience away from collapsing, "you left the Imperial Palace early even though you still had an ongoing meeting with the crown prince."

"Tell him that I’m busy," Soren said, completely unfazed.

He didn’t even spare him a glance as he picked up another piece of food, a glowing fruit this time, and held it out to me.

I stared at it before slowly opening my mouth, because priorities first, as I glanced at Spade.

He looked like he was about to actually cry, like tears were negotiating with his dignity.

’...Poor guy.’

Before I could offer him silent emotional support, Soren, clearly uninterested in the emotional suffering of his subordinate, gently turned my head back toward him, physically redirecting my attention like I was a misbehaving child.

"We have one more pressing issue," Spade said, his voice tightening like he was hanging onto the last thread of professionalism he had left. "We have news about the person you’re looking for."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Where did you find him?" Soren asked, finally looking at Spade.

Just like that, the warmth in his voice vanished, replaced by something sharper, colder. The kind of tone that made people straighten without thinking.

Spade straightened instinctively, like a soldier remembering exactly who he was speaking to. "According to Aquila, he was last seen here—roaming near the—" he stopped mid-sentence, his eyes flicking down to the leopard in Soren’s arms.

Then quickly looked away, as if afraid acknowledging her existence any longer would somehow complicate the situation further. "—just now," he finished.

Soren’s gaze sharpened instantly.

The air around him seemed to tighten, like something invisible had just snapped into place.

"Agatha," he called.

One moment, she was a few steps behind, blending seamlessly into the background.

The next, she was already standing by his side, like she had always been there.

"Take care of Blanca. Don’t let your eyes stray from her."

"Yes, Master," Agatha replied smoothly, already stepping closer.

Soren’s attention shifted downward. She was still chewing, looking utterly unbothered. Her cheeks were slightly puffed, her focus entirely on finishing the last bite of the fruit.

A small, almost imperceptible softness returned to his expression.

"I have something else to do," he told her. "So when you’re bored, you can just tell Agatha to go home. I’m afraid I won’t be enjoying the whole trip with you."

Blanca tilted her head slightly, as if processing the information between bites before nodding.

"Good girl," Soren murmured, reaching out to pat her head.

Blanca immediately swatted his hand away with her tail.

He huffed out a quiet laugh and squeezed her tail lightly, not enough to hurt but just enough to annoy.

Because apparently, that was his hobby now.

Blanca’s reaction was immediate, her tail flicked sharply, and if looks could kill, Soren would have been buried on the spot.

But before she could retaliate, he had already pulled back, the faint smile on his lips fading as he turned to Spade again.

Just like that, Commander Soren Markhelov was back.

"Call Aquila," he said, his voice dropping into something cold and precise.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"We’re going snake hunting."