“Shall I lower the food now?”
Summoning his courage, Seol Young-jun approached hesitantly. A typical morning at the lab began like this—by observing Cat and feeding him breakfast.
When Seo Suho gave a nod, Seol Young-jun moved toward the control booth, set a little apart from the wall. A moment later, a faint vibration stirred the ceiling inside the enclosure. S8A152 jerked his head up, eyes locked onto the seam overhead.
Soon enough, a loud drrrr, and the seam began to part. From the opening, food suspended on a rope began to descend slowly.
—…!
The beast’s eyes gleamed.
In a flash, he leapt. Just like before, the cord—already snapped countless times—was again severed by those claws, as deadly as any weapon. Before the heavy meat could hit the ground, S8A152 snatched it midair and carried it over to Seo Suho, dropping it onto the floor with a wet splat. Eyes still ravenous, he stared straight at Suho’s mouth, hungry and waiting.
“Eat.”
As always, the creature only began to eat once he had Seo Suho’s permission. What looked like raw meat at first glance was actually synthetic food made for monsters—infused with human blood. It was the best sustenance that could be provided aboard the ship to a monster that fed primarily on humans. It was also a privilege—available only to one like Cat, who required close health monitoring and maintenance.
Burying his snout into the hefty chunk of meat, Cat devoured it with gusto. Today, he looked particularly content. He seemed quite pleased with the reward for his performance at the demonstration. While observing him, Suho meticulously recorded every detail of the creature’s movements in the log.
After the meal, the beast lazily prowled around Suho, signaling it was time for their walk. Though it only involved walking back and forth along the wall’s edge, it was Cat’s favorite time of day—second only to feeding.
—Rrrrrrumble.
Mid-walk, Cat suddenly rolled onto his back with a thud, wiggling his legs and rubbing his back against the floor. It was a sign that he was in an exceptionally good mood.
“……”
Captivated by the creature’s antics, Suho stood silently. Lee Seo-rim and Seol Young-jun picked up the slack, quietly continuing the log.
Once all morning checks were complete, Suho and the team left the observation room.
After shaking off the tension and relaxing a bit, the three headed to the conference room, where they reviewed footage of S8A152 and held a debriefing session. By the time it wrapped up, it was already lunchtime.
“I think I finally get why you’re not dating anyone, Team Leader.”
Out of nowhere, Lee Seo-rim muttered the words as they ate together at the staff cafeteria.
“The way you look at S8A152… You’re secretly dating him, aren’t you?”
“Just ignore her, Team Leader. She spouts nonsense sometimes.”
Seol Young-jun commented dryly. Seo Suho simply looked at the two of them and let out a small chuckle.
“See? Even that little laugh wasn’t like earlier.”
Lee Seo-rim continued earnestly.
“You looked so affectionate… It gave me goosebumps.”
“That was probably just because he was being threatened by S8A152.”
“Young-jun, I’m not as much of a scaredy-cat as you are.”
“Don’t make me laugh. I saw you backing away earlier.”
While wiping his mouth with a tissue, Suho finally responded to the two bickering teammates.
“I’ve grown attached to Cat after all this time. I think that’s all there is to it. As long as he’s not acting up, he’s actually kind of cute.”
“C-Cute…?”
Seol Young-jun looked as if he couldn’t believe his ears. Lee Seo-rim’s jaw dropped.
“Honestly… It’s kind of awe-inspiring now.”
She set her chopsticks down with a clack, shaking her head.
“No matter how long I stay here, I don’t think I’ll ever be like you. How did you manage to tame him?”
“……Hmm.”
Monsters weren’t creatures one could grow attached to just by spending a long time with them. Suho paused, weighing what kind of answer would be appropriate.
If there was anything he’d come to realize over time, it was that he was… different. Something even his parents only ever suspected, something even he had found puzzling.
Any monster that met his gaze would, without exception, become docile toward him.
After experiencing it several times while working at the lab, he had no choice but to accept it as fact.
“This might sound absurd, but…”
The fact that he had a monster-friendly constitution was already an open secret. But there was no need to disclose the source of that affinity. In fact, it was better not to.
If people dismissed it as fantasy or made a joke out of it, that would be a blessing. But if someone proposed researching his body…
Then he could lose his right to bodily autonomy.
So the only advice he could give the teammates sitting across from him was this:
“Don’t be afraid.”
Their eyes went round.
“Don’t be afraid…”
Monsters, with their acute vision, hearing, and sense of smell, could instantly read a human’s physiological responses—heartbeat, sweat, eye movement. Detecting fear in their opponent was child’s play for them.
In the end, humans who harbored fear toward the creatures—no matter how well they pretended to stay calm—were nothing more than trembling prey in the eyes of monsters. When prey was overwhelmed by fear, crying or screaming and trying to run away, it was only natural for the monster to become excited and give chase.
“Is that even possible?”
“It’s a simple concept… but way too hard.”
The team members slumped their shoulders.
Seo Suho silently pushed the dessert plates toward the two of them.
***
While reviewing detailed documents for the next phase of the project, a knock sounded.
Lifting his head, Suho pressed his sore eyes with his fingers.
“Yes.”
The door opened with a quiet click, and his team members appeared in the gap. They had already taken off their lab coats.
“Team Leader, aren’t you heading home?”
“…Ah.”
Had it gotten that late already? He glanced down at his watch.
“I’ll finish up what I’m reading and head out. You two go ahead.”
“Alright. Great work today.”
“See you tomorrow!”
After he nodded, the two of them closed the door and disappeared. Their fading voices echoed faintly down the corridor as they chatted on their way out.
By the time Suho wrapped up the rest of his work for the day, it had already been a couple hours since the others had left. He carefully organized the documents, stretched as he got out of his chair, removed his lab coat and hung it on the rack, then prepared to head home. Just then, his watch lit up with a call—Min Yugeon.
“Hey, what’s up.”
—You off work?
From the background noise, it sounded like Min Yugeon had just left work too and was walking somewhere. That made sense… he did say he wasn’t on night duty today.
“Just about to.”
—I’m heading to the store to grab some stuff. Want anything for dinner?
No matter how busy he was, Min Yugeon never skipped his workouts or meals. Suho owed most of his current health to him. If not for Yugeon, he probably would’ve wasted away by now.
“Hmm. It’s pretty late, so…”
As he headed for the door, Suho stopped in his tracks.
The door was slightly ajar.
—What’s wrong?
Yugeon asked when Suho suddenly went quiet.
Narrowing his eyes, Suho stared at the gap. He was sure the others had closed it properly when they left…
He reached for the knob and slowly pulled it open. The door swung silently, revealing the hallway still lit up beyond. Turning his head left and right, he scanned the area—but there was no one else around.
—Seo Suho?
“Yeah.”
—Something happen?
“No.”
It left an unsettling feeling in his gut.
He told Yugeon to just get whatever and hung up. When he exited the building, he spotted two soldiers on duty huddled together, the atmosphere tense.
“What the hell were you thinking, leaving your post like that without a word?”
“I-I’m sorry! I really had to use the bathroom, and you weren’t around earlier so…”
“Oh, so now it’s my fault, is that it?”
“No, sir! That’s not what I meant!”
The flustered rookie looked so pitiful, it was almost hard to watch. As Suho walked past them from a distance, he caught sight of the younger soldier’s youthful face—filled with an expression that couldn’t quite hide his shame and frustration.
The research facility housed monsters and handled information critical to survival on the ship. Naturally, the security was airtight. It was the same for the house his family used to live in.
Even if it was only for a brief moment, stepping away from your post without notice was more than enough reason to get chewed out…
“……”
Suho remembered an incident from the past—when a passerby had wandered into the residential zone where their house was, out of simple curiosity. The soldiers guarding the entrance hadn’t stopped him, assuming he was an acquaintance of Suho’s parents. As a result, the man had made it all the way to where Ji Chanwoo was.
After sending the man away, Ji Chanwoo reprimanded the soldiers. He said that even if the visitor had been an acquaintance, they should have verified his identity through his watch. His tone hadn’t been particularly gentle, but unlike that senior soldier just now, he hadn’t shouted in a way that made everyone around frown. Ji Chanwoo always respected others regardless of rank, and his criticisms remained within the bounds of reason.
Ji Chanwoo was a good man—anyone could see that.
Unlike his parents, who were recovered from the wreckage in only a partially recognizable state, Ji Chanwoo… left behind not a single trace.
When the news broke, everyone who had known him was left utterly speechless.
