He hadn’t planned to mimic a cat this closely, but still—there was something to be said for dedication. The fishing rod his master had given him had quickly become Ries’s most cherished toy.
The only downside?
I missed it.
He hadn’t witnessed the toy’s creation process firsthand.
Just imagine—that man with those big, capable hands carefully assembling such a tiny, adorable toy? That was the kind of scene you couldn’t buy with a mountain of gold.
It was exactly why Ries had vowed not to miss the birth of the second toy, no matter what.
Anyway, that wasn’t the issue at hand.
“……!”
He stared ahead blankly. He’d clearly seen it—Ketir flinching in surprise at the soft thud of the fishing rod hitting the floor. And yet now, the man was feigning ignorance like nothing had happened.
So that’s why Sefiut called him a ‘cowardly young man.’ Ries almost agreed—until he revised the thought.
Honestly, anyone would be terrified with a ghost like that clinging to them.
In truth, Ketir had probably suffered the most throughout the whole ordeal. Justyn hadn’t even realized a ghost was present, but Ketir had stayed glued to his side.
He might’ve joined the group a little later, but by the time he arrived, he’d already been thoroughly tormented.
Finally, Ries got up and stretched with a slow, unbothered shuffle.
“Ries?”
“Myaaang. Weyng.”
He padded over to the nightstand like it was second nature, scratching at the bottom drawer. Justyn followed him with his eyes, then gave a faint smile.
“It’s been a while.”
Justyn quickly complied. The feeling of something gently draped around his neck was a comforting sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time. Ries gave his gloved hand a single lick, then trotted softly to the door—tap tap tap.
A concerned voice followed him.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“Aeong.”
“…Alright. If you get scared, just come right back. Don’t push yourself.”
Ries didn’t answer, just flicked his tail in reply. The ghost had gone back to rest for now—there wasn’t any real danger.
Though he’d told him not to overdo it, Justyn clearly looked pleased. Ghost or not, he’d probably been worried watching Ries sit in one place day after day.
Honestly, it was a shame. Ries had been enjoying the lifestyle—eating, lounging, getting brushed with care, and falling asleep.
But it seemed he’d have to start going out on walks again.
More than anything, this was a performance. A little one-cat act for his sole audience—“See? I’m not scared to go outside anymore!”
And sure enough, Ketir was staring at him in shock, eyes wide as saucers. He looked like he couldn’t believe Ries had decided to go on a walk alone—with no one tagging along.
Ries gave him a pitiful look.
Poor Ketir…
He must’ve really been through the wringer.
Not quite on the same level as Justyn, sure—but still, he was the one who always bathed Ries, and for that, Ries was truly grateful.
He decided then and there—he’d give Ketir a little hope. Soon.
***
A week passed.
During that time, Ries went out for walks every single day. Even Ketir, who had been hesitant at first, started stepping outside bit by bit.
“I’ll be heading out for the day.”
See? Today, he’d called it a day earlier than usual. It probably wasn’t a full break—he likely had work waiting at home—but still.
He hadn’t been able to give up his safe haven entirely, of course. He still dropped by Justyn’s room every evening without fail. But that alone was meaningful progress.
Good. Now Ries wouldn’t have to go out every day.
Tomorrow, I’m gonna lounge around all day.
He quietly made the plan in his head. After spending so long as a dutiful little walk-cat, he was ready to embrace his inner lazy homebody again.
The full moon’s almost here…
Judging by the pace, the day he’d promised Sefiut wasn’t far off.
He had a strong feeling things were about to get hectic—and it wasn’t just because he thought that day would mark a turning point in his feline life.
Ries tilted his head just enough to peer at Justyn. Whoosh. Black mist curled and rose above the mask.
“…….”
It was clearer now—easier to see. Not long ago, he’d had to focus so hard it made his forehead ache just to catch a glimpse.
“Ries.”
And of course, the downside to all this—every time it happened, Justyn always noticed. No way to hide it.
There was no way he wouldn’t notice a stare this intense. So Ries didn’t even bother pretending anymore.
If he’s gonna catch me staring anyway, I might as well do it openly.
Shameless? Maybe. But cats were shameless by nature. And besides, his master seemed to enjoy the attention, so everything was fine.
“If it’s the mask you want, I’ll gift you one.”
…No, that wasn’t it at all. Why did he keep misreading things like that?
Playing dumb, Ries stretched out his hind leg and began grooming it with methodical licks. His ruffled fur smoothed out neatly. He was just about to move on to the other leg when—
“Nya?”
Something dark flitted across his vision.
His eyes widened instinctively.
He turned his head sharply in the direction it had flown. Something no bigger than his paw was fluttering through the air.
A bug. No doubt about it.
He went on full alert, quickly piecing together what he saw: big, black, airborne…
Then it clicked.
That horrible, vivid memory returned—of the creature that used to cling to the wall like it owned the place, daring him to try and catch it. The second someone reached out with a tissue, it would flare its wings and charge like some miniature demon, always one step ahead…
A cockroach.
“MRRREEEEOOOOWWWW!!!”
The moment he realized it, Ries shrieked and leapt behind Justyn’s back. Ketir dropped his papers in shock, but Ries didn’t care.
There were plenty of terrifying things in the world, but if he had to pick just one? That was it.
He hadn’t always been this scared. But one day, he’d come face to face with a cockroach that flew in through an open window.
It must’ve been well-fed, because the thing was huge—fat and slow, but relentless. They fought a half-day war across the house before Ries finally won, leaving the battlefield in tatters.
And the worst part? That cockroach had attitude. It had actually spread its wings and charged at a creature ten times its size like some kind of insect berserker.
That day had become one of the worst in his life. A true trauma. Now, even the sight of something similar made his skin crawl.
Like now.
And with his body so much smaller, the thing looked twice as big.
“MYAAACK! AEOOORRRRK!!!”
He could handle most bugs. But not that one.
Clinging desperately to Justyn’s chest, Ries poured every ounce of terror into his grip. These solid, dependable muscles—his master would definitely protect him. All he had to do was bury his face and block it from sight…
“Ries? What is it?”
“……Aeng?”
Had it disappeared? That would be the worst outcome. He cautiously peeked up.
“……!”
Nope. Still there.
And it was closer now.
He couldn’t even scream this time. His whole body froze.
You don’t see that?! He looked up at Justyn in disbelief. Those red eyes blinked back at him, totally clueless.
Wait… is it not a cockroach?
A strange thought floated to the surface. If it were a regular bug, Justyn would’ve seen it by now. Something that big? There’s no way he’d miss it.
Don’t tell me… it’s a ghost cockroach?!
Nope. Nope. Not thinking about that. He shook his head violently.
What he did know for sure: neither Justyn nor Ketir could see it.
And that made it worse. Leaving it there felt unbearable. What if they opened the door, hoping it’d fly out on its own, and it didn’t? He’d be stuck in the same room as that thing, day and night.
It was too big. Too obvious. Too alive.
And with how much it looked like a real creature, it could seriously drive him insane just by existing.
I have to kill it.
Ries made up his mind. After repeating it to himself over and over—If not me, then who?—he took a deep breath and moved.
He slipped out of Justyn’s arms, fur on end, tail stiff with tension. He crept toward it in absolute silence.
Lowering his body, he held his breath. He’d strike the moment it slowed down.
He didn’t care how the humans behind him were reacting—this was war.
Then—suddenly—
“KYAOOONG!!!”
He pounced, paw lashing out like lightning.
Smack. It hit dead-on.
For a second, he braced himself, dreading that awful crunch bugs always made. But—nothing. No disgusting pop, no squish.
Relieved, he looked down.
The fat, black bug should’ve been there…
But it wasn’t.
What he’d thought was a hard, glossy shell was dissolving, fading fast.
It melted away, disintegrating into wisps of pitch-black mist—just like the ones that always clung to Justyn’s mask.
And once the mist fully vanished, what lay beneath was—
