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Chapter 10
That remark piqued Sioran’s interest.
“Then I guess I should eat more.”
“Squeak!”
The little mouse’s protest was ignored as Sioran opened his mouth wide to swallow it whole.
But before the mouse could even reach his mouth, a fist hit his jaw faster.
“Urgh!”
Sioran, startled by Wished’s silent appearance, clutched his half-turned jaw and managed a relaxed smile.
Wished was already holding the unconscious mouse by the tail, letting it dangle.
“I don’t remember giving you permission to be here.”
Without even glancing at the mouse, Wished tossed it toward Nana, who was fidgeting nervously. He then calmly looked down at the fallen Sioran.
Sioran ground his teeth.
That gaze, looking down from above as if mocking him—
He had hated that look from the moment they met.
Wished, despite having the lowly blood of a human mixed in, dared to look down on him, a bastard child. It was laughable.
Grinding his teeth, Sioran let out a short, dry laugh.
“Why are you being like this to family? It’s not a crime to drop by unannounced.”
“Family? Don’t make me laugh.”
Wished squinted in disgust.
Then, with a beautiful face that looked like it was drawn by an artist, he smiled.
“Come to think of it, it’s been a while.”
“W-What… since I came to the estate?”
“No.”
As Wished lightly rotated his wrist to loosen up, Sioran froze.
“Since I beat the crap out of you.”
“W-Wait!”
And just like that, he got beaten up without landing a single punch.
“Ugh…”
Eventually, Sioran had to lean against a wall mid-step.
He figured at least four of his ribs were broken from the beating. Though it would all heal on its own after a month or so of bedrest, his pride took the real hit.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Wished was still far stronger than him.
‘Just you wait.’
Sioran grinned, recalling the information he’d obtained a few days earlier.
“You’ll regret this! Hahaha! Ha—ARGH! That hurts…!”
The moment he laughed too hard, the broken ribs poked his internal organs, making him quickly shut his mouth.
Then suddenly, a delayed thought occurred to him.
‘Wait a minute…’
Why was the mouse even in the estate?
“The route is still being tracked, but we suspect one of the elders may have made contact.”
The reason Kaiman and Wished had been absent for several days was because they had found a trace of Reynold’s movements.
Normally, Kaiman would have gone alone, especially considering the aftermath of the recent fever, but since they couldn’t yet gauge Reynold’s true strength, Wished accompanied him.
‘So the Black Mamba blood didn’t go to waste.’
The duchy had sent their finest to track him down, but by the time they arrived, the entire advance party had been wiped out. Kaiman recalled the brutal scene.
They chased Reynold immediately, but he had already fled.
Still, it wasn’t a total loss. They discovered that someone among the elders was secretly aiding Reynold.
A surprising yet valuable outcome.
“We’ve submitted a request to the guild as you ordered and are handling the manhunt discreetly.”
“Mm.”
“But there’s a high chance we won’t find him.”
“Mm.”
Kaiman paused mid-report.
“Lord Wished.”
He called softly.
“Mm?”
Wished replied without taking his eyes off what he was looking at.
“…You’ve been holding still for ten minutes now.”
“Really?”
Despite Kaiman’s observation, Wished showed no intention of turning his gaze back to the documents.
“Isn’t it just hilarious?”
Wished’s gaze remained fixed on the corner of his desk.
There, the mouse called “Squeaky” was peacefully unconscious, curled up on Wished’s jacket.
Wished hadn’t put it there. The mouse, while unconscious, had likely rolled onto it for warmth.
He curled one corner of his lips into a smirk.
“It’s trembling in fear, but its eyes are still full of attitude.”
The mouse probably thought it was managing its expression well and hiding its emotions, but Wished could see right through it.
“And yet, when in danger, it calls my name.”
It doesn’t even realize I’m the greatest threat here.
Wished poked the mouse’s soft back with a fingertip.
The mouse shifted, trying to avoid his finger. When he persistently poked again, its brows twitched as if annoyed.
“Useless and dumb.”
Even as he insulted it, the smile never left Wished’s lips.
Even if it was a mocking one, Kaiman couldn’t take his eyes off it.
He had never seen Wished smile like that except when killing someone.
“What do you plan to do with it?”
“I’ll increase the time we spend together. Once it’s used to my pheromones, I’ll start feeding it my blood little by little.”
“Undiluted?”
Wished’s toxicity, even as a hybrid, far exceeded that of any other Black Mamba.
Even diluted, it was comparable to a venomous snake’s poison. Undiluted, it was pure lethal toxin.
“…And if it survives?”
“What do you think? If it survives, I’ll devour it.”
A beastman who could fully withstand Wished’s blood would become a true Black Mamba once eaten by him.
“And if it doesn’t?”
“It’ll die.”
Wished replied calmly and without hesitation.
If it survived, he would consume it. If not, it would die slowly from paralysis caused by the poison.
Wished was now gently stroking the mouse’s round head.
Well, gently for him—the pressure distorted the mouse’s sleeping face.
Yet the mouse seemed fast asleep, even snoring faintly.
“Kaiman. I know what you’re worried about.”
For the first time since entering the office, Wished looked directly at Kaiman.
“That won’t happen.”
“…”
“I’m not crazy enough to give up the chance to become a full Black Mamba, am I?”
“My apologies.”
Kaiman tightly sealed his lips.
Yes, if that’s what his master says, then so be it. Anything beyond this would be overstepping.
Kaiman, who understood how desperately his master wanted to become a perfect beastman, still couldn’t help seeking reassurance.
“Then, may I ask… what exactly do you feel toward that mouse?”
He asked honestly.
His master was always unpredictable, but at least up until now, he’d never shown this kind of behavior.
“Of course…”
Wished pressed down on the mouse’s cheek.
“It’s just a tiny amusement.”
“Amusement… sir?”
“Yeah.”
Even as he spoke, Wished murmured as though organizing his own thoughts.
“Entertainment. That’s all it is.”
“I see…”
Kaiman nodded slowly at Wished’s response.
He had hoped otherwise, but deep down, he’d expected this.
As a child, Wished had been an in-between—neither fully human nor fully beastman. No place truly welcomed him.
His childhood had been quiet. He never rebelled even when bullied by younger Black Mamba relatives or ignored by servants.
The day he changed was the second time Kaiman saw him.
Back then, Wished was very different from now. More detached. As if incapable of feeling anything at all.
At least back then, he could still get angry. But now…
“Kaiman.”
“Ah, yes, Lord Wished.”
Snapped out of his thoughts, Kaiman responded belatedly.
Wished furrowed his brow.
“Don’t you smell something?”
“From me, sir?”
Kaiman, who had a bit of a cleanliness obsession, immediately turned pale.
“No, not from you.”
Relieved, Kaiman—who showered twice daily and always wore gloves—focused his senses.
He sniffed the air a few times. Watching this, Wished muttered softly.
“…Thought so. You don’t smell it.”
Wished looked at the sleeping mouse.
How could he not smell that?
There was an incredibly sweet scent in the air—and it was coming from the mouse’s blood.
