“Why the hell is this thing here?”
Chi-yu froze the moment he stepped out of the shower, eyes widening in shock. Finding Tae-oh casually sitting on his bed was startling enough—but even stranger was the furry creature he’d just dropped off at the lab earlier, now dangling midair, bound tight in Tae-oh’s shadow.
[Skreee— Skreee—]
The furball thrashed its legs the instant it spotted Chi-yu, like a baby who had just found its mother.
Tae-oh leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed, silently watching its desperate struggle.
“Let it go. Can’t you see it’s suffering?”
Chi-yu moved closer, speaking firmly.
The moment Tae-oh released his shadows, the creature bolted into Chi-yu’s arms, pressing itself against him.
Tae-oh let out a short laugh.
“So, why is it here?”
Chi-yu looked down at the furball burrowing into his chest and asked, baffled.
“When I got out of the shower, it was clinging to the bathroom door. I called the lab, but they said it must’ve moved here on its own. For now, they told me to just leave it be and observe.”
“Really?”
Chi-yu’s face brightened. He’d felt uneasy earlier leaving it behind. It didn’t feel like a beast at all—its temperament and behavior were more like a pet. And that gaze, the way it never looked away from him, had lingered in his thoughts all day.
“But it keeps clinging to you. That’s annoying.”
Tae-oh frowned, glaring at it.
Chi-yu looked down at the little thing, panting with its tongue out as it nestled against him, all while keeping a wary eye on Tae-oh. A smile tugged at his lips.
“Should we give it a name?”
“You? You’re terrible at naming things.”
“What? You’re no better. Remember in middle school, that puppy we rescued under the Gate? You named it Cat just because I named my cat Dog.”
“Because naming a dog Cat was already ridiculous enough. I just rolled with it.”
Tae-oh snorted, raising a brow.
Chi-yu narrowed his eyes at him, then gently stroked the creature in his arms.
“Anyway, if it’s going to stay with us for now, it should have a name.”
“So, what’ll it be?”
Propping his chin on one hand, Tae-oh studied him, curious.
Chi-yu stared back for a moment, then lowered his gaze to the panting, catlike creature staring up at him. After a long pause, he tilted his head slightly and murmured:
“…Catdog?”
***
Thanks to Catdog, dinner became lively and chaotic.
Min Yu-hyun, Lee Jun-hyung, and Beom Do-il couldn’t stop fawning over it, while Yoon Do-jae, though pretending to be indifferent, kept sneaking glances.
The moment Do-jae discovered Catdog ate human food without hesitation, he began shoveling bites straight from his plate into its mouth.
His camera director caught every moment on film.
“Stop feeding it. Its stomach’s already bloated.”
Do-il tried to intervene, but the second Do-jae stopped feeding, Catdog shuffled beside his plate, panting eagerly, leaving him no choice but to continue.
Yu-hyun rested his chin on his hand, watching with fascination.
“This is really a beast?”
Jun-hyung looked just as skeptical. Its catlike appearance, its doglike affection, its ease with human food, its unguarded trust—everything about it felt more like a pet than a mutant beast.
“There should be recording from earlier. Before I stabilized it, it was massive. If it weren’t for the fur color and those black stripe-like markings, no one would believe this was the same creature.”
“This doesn’t feel like a beast—it’s more like someone grafted a beast and a cat together.”
“Yeah, I was just thinking that.”
Jun-hyung nodded in agreement with Yu-hyun, and Do-il added his own nod.
Yu-hyun glanced at him, then turned toward Tae-oh.
“You’ve confirmed it’s safe?”
Without looking up, Tae-oh replied:
“Yeah. Ninety-nine percent harmless.”
“Hoo— so it really is a beast?”
Yu-hyun’s voice brimmed with curiosity as he looked at Catdog, still happily chewing the meat Do-jae was feeding it.
“What did the lab say?”
Jun-hyung asked.
“They said they’d never seen anything like it.”
Tae-oh paused, as if recalling something, then narrowed his eyes slightly.
“What struck me was how little they reacted. It’s not in the Beast Codex, and no mutant like this has ever been recorded. That should’ve been shocking.”
“The odds they already knew about it?”
Do-jae asked. Tae-oh thought for a moment before answering flatly:
“Who knows.”
At that, Yu-hyun, Do-jae, and Jun-hyung all turned their eyes to Catdog.
The mood grew heavy—none of them fully trusted the lab.
“But really, if you were going to name it, why something so lame? Catdog?”
Do-il pursed his lips at Chi-yu, ignoring the tension.
“What’s wrong with Catdog? It suits it perfectly.”
“There are cooler names. Like Pyra, for example.”
“That’s even worse??”
“What?! Pyra’s lame? Don’t tell me you don’t know King of Beasts Pyra! You didn’t watch that cartoon as a kid?”
“I did. But Pyra’s a lion. This thing’s feline.”
“With its tongue hanging out and panting like that? Looks more like a mutt than a cat.”
“Dogs have long, pointy snouts. Look at this—short and round. Obviously cat family.”
“If we’re talking appearance, then I’ve got something too. Wings don’t exactly belong on cats.”
“That’s only because it was born a flying-type beast.”
As Chi-yu and Do-il bickered heatedly over whether Catdog was canine or feline, Do-jae kept shoveling food into its mouth.
Tae-oh leaned on one hand, watching Chi-yu argue like a kid, a faint smile on his lips. Jun-hyung gave Do-il a look as if to ask, What’s wrong with you?
Yu-hyun shook his head at Do-jae, still relentlessly feeding Catdog despite its belly bulging like a balloon.
***
“This little bastard.”
In the middle of Guiding, Tae-oh suddenly scowled and glared at Catdog.
Chi-yu blinked in confusion, startled, but Tae-oh didn’t take his eyes off it.
“What’s wrong?”
“That thing just Marked you.”
Tae-oh jerked his chin toward Catdog.
Chi-yu’s eyes went wide.
“Beasts can Mark?”
It was unmistakable. While receiving Guiding, Tae-oh had instinctively released his wave to Mark, but the residual wave on Chi-yu wasn’t his—it was the beast’s.
That a beast could Mark a human was shocking enough. But for a Mark to even work, it required teleportation. Which meant this creature could teleport.
That explained why it had managed to show up clinging to his bathroom door earlier.
Tae-oh’s stare lingered on Catdog, unease tightening in his chest.
Yes, it was cute, affectionate, harmless on the surface. But it was still a beast. And for it to wield powers unique to humans—teleportation and Marking—was disturbing.
The thought gnawed at him: this thing had to have been created.
The Bureau Chief suddenly ordering him to Zone M. Facing that rampaging beast. Chi-yu using Rampage Recovery on it, just like during the Black Gate. That very beast Marking Chi-yu during the process. And now, showing up glued to his side.
Too many coincidences to dismiss.
Tae-oh decided he’d have to investigate Catdog further. He turned back to Chi-yu.
“So how long are we just gonna sit here holding hands?”
“Contact Guiding’s way more efficient. My energy doesn’t charge otherwise.”
“Mm. Guiding’s fine. But what about kissing? When do we do that?”
Chi-yu’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the bluntness, and he quickly looked away.
“Well? When can we?”
Tae-oh tapped his thumb against Chi-yu’s hand, pressing for an answer.
“…We can’t.”
“What? Why not?”
His grip tightened.
Chi-yu dropped his gaze to their joined hands.
“Why not?”
“……”
“You don’t want to kiss me?”
“…It’s not that. I don’t hate it. But…”
“But what?”
“…I just… worry if we do it too much, we’ll get sick of it…”
Chi-yu trailed off, then quickly raised his eyes to meet Tae-oh’s, trying to patch his awkward words.
Their stares locked, heat pooling between them. Chi-yu’s gaze slid down to Tae-oh’s lips—lips he had kissed more times than he could count. They moved slightly, tempting him.
“Get sick of it?”
Tae-oh’s gaze dropped to his lips as well.
Chi-yu’s chest tightened at the intensity in his eyes. Yes, they’d already crossed the line. But after twenty years together like family, to suddenly feel this way—it was terrifying.
That gaze alone stirred the thrill of an actual kiss.
It scared him.
Scared him that their fire would blaze too brightly and burn out too fast. Scared him that once they’d done everything, boredom would follow.
That was what frightened him.
“I mean… we’ve barely even started dating, but it already feels like we’ve done everything….”
“Oh? Everything?”
“I mean… just….”
“Mm?”
“…I thought maybe we should slow down a little. Take things step by step.”
“Ahh. Slowly.”
“…Yeah.”
At that, Tae-oh began idly toying with Chi-yu’s hand. His thumb and forefinger brushed the back of it, his other fingers gently stroking his palm.
It was nothing more than fidgeting, yet it felt shamelessly intimate. Chi-yu swallowed hard again.
Held captive by Tae-oh’s grip, he tried to focus on keeping the Guiding steady, waiting for an answer. But Tae-oh said nothing—only kneaded his hand lazily.
Finally, as if savoring even that, he spoke:
“But Chi-yu.”
“…Yeah?”
“You really think I can take it slow with you right in front of me?”
Chi-yu blinked, caught off guard.
“I think I get what you’re worried about.”
Of course he did. Tae-oh always caught on too quickly. Chi-yu hadn’t exactly hidden it.
“But let me make one thing clear: I’ll never get tired of you.”
“……”
“I swear.”
“…You can’t be sure. Like with food—eat it too often and you get sick of it. Relationships could be the same. Not that I’m saying I’m delicious, but…”
“You think if I keep coming onto you every day, you’ll get sick of me?”
“…What? No, I wouldn’t….”
“See? There you go.”
“That’s just because it’s me….”
“You still don’t get me, do you, Chi-yu?”
“……”
“I’ve already given you everything—my guts, my heart, my mind, everything.”
Tae-oh’s voice softened as he squeezed Chi-yu’s hand warmly.
“I’m completely gone for you, Kang Chi-yu.”
