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Chapter 3
Even one drop of the stuff could kill ten strong adults, so of course a lion couldn’t withstand it.
“Next time, I should try a tiger. What kind of idiot chooses a rat? A rat, for god’s sake.”
Thud. My numbed body dropped onto something cold.
Only then did the poison seem to take full effect—my entire body felt like it was burning.
‘Hot. It’s too hot.’
I wanted to scream, but even moving my mouth was impossible.
I writhed in pain, but my body began to stiffen, and my nerves were gradually going numb.
I heard the sound of a door opening.
Someone had finally come—my long-awaited chance at escape. But I couldn’t feel happy.
I could sense death approaching. It was the same feeling I’d had during that brief moment I was caught in the explosion.
I blinked once—and my vision suddenly shifted. I must have blacked out for a second.
‘No… I’m not dying! I won’t die!’
I had no idea where the strength came from, but I rolled myself under the cart.
“Why did that fall off?”
John bent down, confused.
“Huh? Wha—?”
And I ran for my life.
It was my first time running as a rat, so my limbs got tangled in a mess—but I didn’t stop.
“A rat! The rat escaped! Catch it now!”
John screamed from behind, chasing after me in a frenzy.
I moved my tiny limbs as fast as I could, eyes fixed forward, running like mad.
“Stop right there!”
Would you stop if someone yelled that?
As I kept running, he began to catch up.
No matter how hard I pushed, John’s hand was now so close it nearly grazed my tail.
I was going to get caught.
Frantically scanning my surroundings for somewhere to hide, I saw a door in the distance—slightly ajar.
‘There!’
Every instinct in my little body screamed at me.
Go that way. If you do, they won’t be able to chase you anymore.
“Wa-wait! Not that way—!”
My instincts were spot on.
As soon as John saw where I was heading, he froze in place, his face turning pale as if he’d never been chasing me so violently just a second ago.
Once inside, I immediately hid behind the door.
Hahh… hahh… okay, he’s not following anymore, right?
I gasped, my tiny shoulders heaving. After calming down a bit, John’s words came back to me:
[W-wait! Not that way—!]
What was in this room that made him turn white like that?
Only then did I take a look around.
Despite it being daytime, the room was pitch dark—not a single ray of light was allowed in. The atmosphere was strangely chilling.
My body, which had been burning hot just moments ago, felt like it had instantly cooled down.
Sensing something strange, I hesitated.
Thud.
Something fell to the floor.
‘A blanket?’
I tilted my head curiously.
“I told them not to let anyone in here.”
A low voice echoed through the room—one so chilling it made my fur stand on end.
A shiver started at my tail and raced up my spine, making every hair on my body stand up.
‘P-predator!’
A natural enemy.
A red warning siren blared in my mind.
I had to run.
I tried to force my frozen body to move—
“Squeak!”
—but my scruff was caught and I was lifted up into the air.
“Hmm?”
The predator, who had somehow crept up without me noticing, brought his face closer to inspect me.
“What the hell is this.”
Eyes glowing eerily red in the dark.
I recognized him instantly.
He was the madman villain—Wysid.
“Squeak…”
‘I’m screwed.’
At my tiny squeak, Wysid tilted his head.
“A rat that talks?”
My eyes widened.
The villain understood me!
Oh my god. He understood me!
“Squeak, squeak!”
I forgot my fear and burst into tears, overwhelmed by all the sorrow I’d bottled up until now. Villain or not, that didn’t matter.
Someone could understand me!
“Shut up.”
Wysid’s brow furrowed.
His harsh tone brought my fear rushing back, and I quickly clamped my mouth shut.
Wysid hated crying more than anything.
His father, the former Duke Hercule, had spent every day drunk, mourning Wysid’s late mother.
He would grab little Wysid—who resembled her not at all—and wail at him. Because of that memory, Wysid harbored a deep resentment toward crying.
I recalled the original story I’d reread over and over to survive. How Wysid cruelly killed anyone who cried.
I ran three simulations in my head, imagining those deaths. Only then did I finally stop crying.
Hic! Hic!
‘One problem after another!’
Now I had the hiccups.
Startled, I covered my mouth with both paws.
“Hmm.”
Wysid seemed satisfied that I’d stopped crying, and relaxed his furrowed brow.
Knock knock.
Someone urgently knocked on the door.
“Who is it.”
The brow that had just unfurrowed scrunched up again.
“Lord Wysid. It’s the lab director.”
My eyes shot open at the mention of the lab director. I was so startled that my hiccups vanished.
John must have gone to get him while I was in here.
‘I have to escape!’
Judging from Wysid’s expression, he didn’t yet know I was a test subject.
If the director came in now, I’d be taken back to the lab for sure.
I started thrashing around.
“Stay still.”
Yes, sir.
I immediately obeyed Wysid’s command.
I didn’t expect a prey like me to escape the grip of a predator anyway.
Like a worm squirming when stepped on, it was just a last-ditch protest.
Still holding me by the scruff, Wysid opened the door.
The lab director was panting, clearly having rushed over.
“What is it?”
“My apologies for disturbing your rest. One of the test subjects escaped, and…”
“This one?”
The director, bowing his head, looked up at Wysid’s words—and locked eyes with me mid-air.
“Y-yes. That’s it.”
No way… is he just going to hand me over?
“Can’t even manage your own test subjects? Just take it. It’s giving me a headache.”
No!
As the director reached for me, I clung tightly to Wysid’s hand that was holding my scruff.
“Squeak! Squeak! Squeeeak!”
‘I’ll do anything! I’ll do whatever you ask! Just please don’t hand me over!’
I was desperate. Maybe that’s why tears welled up again—I just knew Wysid would give me back.
“Squeak! Squeak?!”
‘A talking rat isn’t interesting to you? Huh?’
The lab director panicked and tugged on my tail.
Ow!
I bared my teeth and bit down on his finger. Taste the bite of these fruit-crunching fangs, you heartless monster!
“Ow! You little—!”
“Wait.”
At Wysid’s single word, the director flinched.
More precisely, he was silenced by the pheromones Wysid released.
I sighed in relief. The director was scarier than Wysid’s pheromones at this point.
But then Wysid brought his face close to my neck.
‘What the hell…!’
My heart pounded so hard it felt like my carotid artery was about to burst from my chest.
As Wysid’s pheromones thickened—he was a snake beastman, after all—my knees practically gave out.
I instinctively jerked my foot, wanting to kick his face away as he sniffed at my nape.
But I didn’t want my neck punctured, so I trembled and barely held back.
“You…”
Wysid pulled back and narrowed his eyes.
His already-slit snake pupils thinned even more.
“You’ve got my blood in you.”
Blood?
I froze—then remembered: I’d been injected with a diluted dose of Wysid’s blood.
“Right?”
Wysid turned to the lab director.
“Y-yes.”
“Which dose was it?”
“It’s going to have a seizure soon anyway. You don’t need to bother with—”
“Just answer the question.”
Wysid cut him off, unimpressed by the dodge.
“W-well…”
The director hesitated, sweat beading on his brow.
“You tell me.”
Wysid turned to me.
“Which number was it?”
I flinched—I’d been quietly observing everything, not expecting him to ask me.
“Squeak, squeak.”
‘One. The first one.’
I answered, because I wanted to live.
