Cat, newly freed, lunged.
The creature it caught—B32C97—was flung across the room in an instant.
Thud! The monsters crashed to the floor in a tangled heap, rolling violently. Just a moment ago, B32C97 had been mauling its prey, only to be interrupted. It let out a bone-chilling shriek.
KIIIIAAAH!
“Hah… Haa…”
Panting hard, I pushed myself up with an elbow. My body trembled, the weight of the protective suit making each movement sluggish. Sweat-soaked hair clung to my temples.
I looked on as the two monsters clashed—though calling it a fight would’ve been generous. It was one-sided. Cat had coiled its tail around its opponent, restricting its movement, and then slashed with its claws. B32C97, severely wounded, thrashed about in frenzy. Cat pinned it down with its forelegs and then drove its snout into the struggling mass beneath. Shluk—long, dagger-sharp teeth sank deep.
B32C97 flailed as its insides were torn apart. But under Cat’s weight, it couldn’t budge an inch.
K-kee…
The frantic convulsions gradually slowed. B32C97 lay with its mouth agape, letting out dying moans.
Grrrrrk…
Soon after, Cat lifted its head. Its face was drenched in blood, though the black fur masked most of it. Still perched atop B32C97’s twitching body, it rubbed its paw across its eyes like it was washing its face. Then it turned its head. Those glinting eyes locked onto me.
It leapt lightly from the corpse and began approaching. I stood still, watching it come closer.
Its large body covered the distance in just a few strides.
“……”
Grrrn.
A damp nose nudged me. Gently, it tapped my chest with its snout before pulling back slightly to stare down at me.
I reached out a hand. It lowered its body a little.
“You did well.”
I wrapped my arms around its neck—just barely able to embrace it. It let out a slow exhale, not moving otherwise. It knew full well that even a slight shift could hurt me.
I patted Cat’s back as it let out a soft, almost pleading sound, like it wanted more praise. I fought the urge to take off my gloves and touch it properly, instead scratching its hide for a bit before turning away.
“Demonstration complete.”
My voice echoed through the speaker system outside the cage.
One by one, the spectators stood and began to applaud.
The catastrophe that once swallowed the world hadn’t come in the form of natural disasters, plagues, or wars. It was monsters—swarms of them, their origin unknown.
They appeared all over the globe without any warning. Though their forms resembled animals familiar to mankind, their unnatural size and brutality left only one fitting name: monsters.
Against these creatures—impervious to conventional weapons—humanity was nearly annihilated. In Korea’s case, the only survivors were the five thousand aboard this vessel known as the “Ship.” If there had been aerial monsters, even the Ship wouldn’t have stood a chance.
But settling into a new refuge didn’t mean humans had forgotten the land. On the Ship, efforts to reclaim the surface had never ceased.
One of those efforts was the project I was involved in:
The Military Beast Project—an initiative to tame monsters as military beasts and pit them against the ones on the ground.
Having just concluded a related demonstration, I now stood at a reception in the research center’s lobby, following a string of interviews. It was time to greet each observer properly.
“Researcher Seo Suho.”
An elderly woman with neatly combed white hair approached me, cane in hand. Several attendants followed close behind.
“Captain.”
I bowed respectfully. The Captain smiled, deep wrinkles folding across her face.
“I saw your performance today. You’ve got nerves of steel. Exceeded expectations.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“No, I should be the one thanking you.”
She looked genuinely pleased.
“A monster that protects humans… It’s practically a completed military beast already—cough, wouldn’t you say? Cough, cough! Ah, excuse me—”
She took a handkerchief from an aide with practiced ease, covering her mouth as she broke into a fit of coughing. It lasted long enough to be concerning.
I hesitated, then the man supporting her spoke.
“My mother’s been quite ill… I hope you’ll understand.”
I turned to him.
He had soft brown hair, tall stature, and a striking, radiant appearance. If he was the Captain’s son, that would make him the Vice Captain. I had seen the Captain once or twice before, but this was my first time meeting him.
I gave a small nod.
“Would you like us to prepare a quiet place for you to rest?”
“Oh, then…”
“No. That won’t be necessary.”
The Captain cut in before the Vice Captain could respond, letting out a sigh.
“I was planning to leave right after greeting you anyway. I have another appointment.”
“…I see.”
“A shame, really. I was hoping we could share a meal.”
“Just the thought is an honor.”
I replied politely to the old woman’s wistful murmur, stealing a glance at the thin fingers curled around her cane. The busiest person on the Ship—her schedule clearly took precedence over her body.
“What about dinner some other time?”
The Captain suggested it out of the blue.
“The Vice Captain as well. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the young people leading the next generation built a close relationship?”
Her affectionate tone and the way she gently gripped the Vice Captain’s arm made it clear how close the two of them were.
I searched for the right words in my head.
“I’d be glad to, but I’m not sure I should take up someone as busy as you.”
“Take up my time?”
The Vice Captain widened his eyes.
“If anything, I’d be the one stealing your precious time, Researcher.”
“Well then, since we’re already on the subject, I’ll make a reservation somewhere nice.”
At the Captain’s words, one of her aides tapped on the screen of a device and held it out, seemingly displaying her schedule.
“But… Researcher Seo Suho, you’re not married yet, are you?”
The Captain asked casually while looking over the display. I froze for a moment.
“Pardon?”
“Oh. Of course someone as upright as you must be. That was a nosy question.”
“…No, I’m unmarried.”
“Really? Not seeing anyone either?”
“No.”
For some reason, the Captain nodded with a satisfied expression.
Once the date was settled and confirmed, she folded the handkerchief and tucked it into her pocket, looking back and forth between the Vice Captain and me with visible delight.
The mood was beginning to shift toward farewells when—
“There you are, Captain.”
A familiar voice reached my ears. I turned and saw the Research Center Director, Min Sanghan, approaching with his usual warm expression.
“Director Min.”
The Captain greeted him with genuine warmth. Min Sanghan smiled brightly as he shook her hand.
“It’s been quite a while since your last visit to the lab. We’re so grateful you came.”
“Of course I had to be here. I was looking forward to this more than anyone.”
“I’m relieved to hear you’re satisfied.”
Min Sanghan beamed and patted me proudly on the shoulder.
“As you saw, Team Leader Seo deserves most of the credit. The monsters respond only to him.”
“Hoho. Someone might think Researcher Seo is your son.”
“If it came across that way, I’d be honored. I don’t know if this is the right place to say it, but… he’s as good as a son to me.”
Min Sanghan finished with a hearty laugh, eyes overflowing with affection as he looked at me.
To me, too, Min Sanghan was more than just a boss. Back when I’d lost my family and was drowning in grief, he had been there—as a longtime friend of my parents, and the adult who had arranged their funeral in their place.
“Hm…”
The Vice Captain, who had been quietly observing, suddenly let out a mild laugh and spoke.
“Still, you can’t deny blood.”
“Excuse me?”
Min Sanghan froze mid-joke. The Vice Captain tilted his head slightly.
“After all, both of Researcher Seo’s parents were very well-known.”
“Indeed. They were the first to propose the Military Beast Project. And now, Seo Suho is carrying on their legacy.”
The Captain added, her gaze turning to me with a trace of sorrow.
“They left behind a remarkable son, but we lost two extraordinary talents far too soon.”
“……”
“…Have I said too much? An old woman getting sentimental?”
“Not at all.”
There was no reason to resent the fact that someone still remembered my mother and father. Even so, despite my polite denial, the air had turned just a little more solemn. A few more words were exchanged, and, just as she had said, the Captain didn’t linger long at the lab. At her secretary’s signal, she left the lobby.
“Then I’ll see you on the day of our dinner, Researcher.”
The Vice Captain gave me a lingering look, as if reluctant to part, before following the Captain out. Left alone, Min Sanghan watched the Vice Captain’s retreating figure.
