Not today.
Thump, thump. Ries tapped Justyn with his front paw, urging him to move. He had unfinished business to take care of.
The translucent image of someone’s turned back still lingered in his mind—someone who’d coldly brushed him off like he didn’t matter.
Sefiut.
He was going to track down that ghost who had stood him up and shake him down until he got what he deserved. With a steely resolve, Ries made a solemn vow.
***
“MEOWWWWW!!”
Come out, you damn ghost!
The moment Ries stepped into the gallery, he let out a resounding wail. The sound was loud enough to make Sefiut appear, covering his ears with both hands.
—You’re so damn loud, you little brat!
“Meowrk!”
Loud? That’s the first thing you say when you see me?!
Ries narrowed his eyes, his gaze sharpening with irritation. He hadn’t come expecting an apology, but this shameless attitude? Unbelievable.
He immediately pounced on him with complaints.
If they could meet during the day, why the hell did he make him sneak around at night? Did he have any idea what kind of humiliation he went through? After all that effort, how could Sefiut just pretend not to know him?
While Ries was angrily yowling, Sefiut stayed perfectly composed, arms folded across his chest.
—Who do you think made it possible for you to learn how to transform into a human in the first place?
“…Meow?”
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Ries blinked in confusion, completely thrown off by the sudden comment.
A few seconds passed—and then it hit him. That face. That smug, self-important face.
He was trying to claim credit for it all.
Ries hesitated. Should he just play along and listen seriously, or scoff in his face and walk off?
Sefiut narrowed his eyes like he could read his thoughts.
—Oh? You don’t believe me?
“Mrrow.”
Ries went with the latter. He had nothing to say to a ghost who’d already broken his trust.
Sefiut gave a short, low grunt. Tch. Look at that face. He hadn’t realized cats could express so much irritation.
—Tch. You’ve got some attitude, huh.
With a sigh, he began pulling a half-faded legend from the depths of his memory. He wasn’t blind to his own faults, after all.
—I told you before about the gods, didn’t I?
Ries perked up his ears. His face was still sulky, but the twitch in his posture betrayed his interest.
—These days, the only god who watches over this continent is Thalassa. But long ago, that wasn’t the case. Back then, one of the most well-known deities was the Moon Goddess, Luyana.
Ries’s tail began to sway slowly. He kept up his aloof expression, but it was clear he was hooked.
—According to legend, Thalassa, Goddess of the Sea, and Luyana, Goddess of the Moon, were sisters. The bond between them was so strong that whenever the moon shone its brightest, the sea would dance in joy.
Float. Drift. Sefiut lifted himself into the air with a mock-dance. Ries’s eyes followed him like a magnet.
—Hah, you’re interested now, huh? That dance hasn’t been seen since Luyana fell into a deep sleep, but there’s still one place that holds a trace of her.
He dropped his voice like he was sharing a secret.
—The Grand Temple of Thalassa. On full moon nights, the sea in front of it glows like a bed of jewels. They say it’s because Thalassa’s blessing touches it most deeply there. If you ever get the chance, pester my descendant and go see it for yourself.
Ooh…
Ries’s eyes sparkled with wonder, completely unaware that the ghost across from him was smirking at how easily he took the bait.
—Ahem. Anyway, the point is—the moon and the sea are deeply connected. Beastfolk who carry Thalassa’s blessing strongly are often said to have a bond with Luyana as well. That’s why I picked a full moon night.
He didn’t add anything else, but Ries already knew what he was thinking. That smug grin, the dramatic shrug of his shoulders, and those annoyingly sparkly translucent eyes.
—See? Told you it was all thanks to me.
Sefiut was clearly gloating.
“Mrrrrr…”
In the end, Ries let out a grudging mewl, a half-hearted sound of acknowledgment. If what he said was true, then yeah… Ries had figured out he could transform into a human thanks to Sefiut.
But that self-satisfied look made his fur bristle.
“MRAOWWWW!!”
Then why the hell didn’t you just tell me sooner?!
The chaotic night flashed before his eyes like a reel of regret.
Sure, maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything—but at least he could’ve been mentally prepared!
—Tch, what was I supposed to do? It wasn’t a sure thing. And I didn’t exactly have time to explain either.
“……”
That’s because you were too busy tormenting some poor guy… Ries almost snapped back but bit his tongue.
With that shameless face, it was obvious Sefiut would just play dumb anyway.
Ries let out a long, dramatic sigh. Pheeeew. Sefiut clicked his tongue.
—Tch tch. What, you trying to dig your own grave with that sigh?
As if he wasn’t already losing his mind dealing with his descendant, now the ancestor had to step in and stir things up too. It was enough to make his blood boil. Still, it’s not easy to ignore the only person you can actually talk to. So Ries, reluctantly but thoroughly, poured out everything that had happened that day.
—Hmmmm. That so? Sounds like he didn’t see it, then.
That was all he got in return.
Ries didn’t know what to make of it. Should he be relieved? Or should he still be on edge? He hadn’t even made up his mind when Sefiut added,
—You probably don’t realize this, but information about beastfolk is ridiculously scarce. Even back in my time, I had to pull strings just to get my hands on a couple of ancient books. And now that they’re extinct? I’d say all the records are pretty much lost.
“…Myaak?”
—Yeah, yeah. I’m telling you—at best, they’ll think you’re some unusually clever spirit beast or something.
…Come to think of it, that actually sounded plausible.
From what he’d heard, Sefiut had once stopped a calamity during his lifetime. That kind of power came with serious credibility.
And now this ghost was saying it with such certainty that Ries’s imagination started churning with hope all over again.
—Ahem.
Unfortunately, he was so caught up in thought that he didn’t notice the ghost’s smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.
Sefiut looked down at the small head deep in thought, internally patting himself on the back for his incredible sense of generosity.
Looks like he saw it but decided to play dumb… Well, he’s my descendant, after all. I’m sure he has his reasons. Guess I’ll back him up—for the dignity of his great ancestor. Hah… truly, what a model of compassion I am.
If Ries had known what kind of nonsense was going through that ghost’s head, he would’ve flipped. But alas, he didn’t have the ability to hear ghostly inner monologues.
Sefiut sniffed once, wiped the smug look off his face, and turned his rolling eyes toward the dazed cat, ready to yank him back from his thoughts.
—Enough moping. We’ve still got a mountain of things to talk about.
There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask this little Myo.
***
—So that’s how it went…
Ries quickly snapped out of it and gave a detailed report of everything that had happened. The cursed bug, how the curse had transferred, and the way they’d managed to dispel it.
When Ries got to the part where he’d slapped Justyn’s face with his paw, Sefiut burst out laughing, rolling around midair. Still, as much as he laughed, it had been a pretty valuable incident.
—Hm. Either way, it means I was right. No doubt about it now—you’re the key to lifting that curse.
“Myaaaak…”
But that one breakthrough had been the only progress they’d made. Ries drooped his ears, anxiety creeping in again. Sefiut, however, didn’t seem worried in the slightest.
—Come on. There’s no way a curse like that would be broken so easily. It’s a deep-rooted evil that’s been passed down through blood for generations…
He trailed off and shifted topics, the mischievous sparkle in his eye gone. His expression had turned unusually serious.
—Still, it’s not like we walked away empty-handed. Now we know the curse has a kind of root. If we keep chipping away at the fragments—piece by piece—we might actually be able to break it completely.
“Waeoong.”
It made sense. Ries nodded, taking it as encouragement. In that case, there was only one thing left to do.
—For now, we wait.
Just like that day with the cursed bug, they had to wait for another fragment of the curse to show itself.
In truth, not much had changed. Ries still had to pretend to be nothing more than a regular cat around Justyn. All he could do now was wait—for as long as it took.
And yet, the weight on his chest felt a little lighter. The burden he’d been carrying silently for so long had eased, just a little.
Talking about it really helped.
