“Meowww. Myaak.”
Smart choice. He’s still your descendant, after all. You ought to at least stick around to see Justyn break the curse.
Sefiut, who normally looked like he’d just float around uselessly if dropped in water, didn’t respond right away this time. Ries decided not to wait for an answer.
Being alone is just too lonely.
Trot trot. Ries picked up the pace and padded out of the gallery.
***
Hmmm…
HMMMM…
Ries rummaged through his toy box. Ever since people started treating him like a Spirit Beast, he’d been showered with gifts. Naturally, there were plenty of plushies to choose from.
They just… weren’t exactly cool.
Figures.
He could admit it. Ries was self-aware enough to judge his own appearance.
Long, graceful fur that balanced elegance with cuteness. Big, sparkling eyes that could rival Puss in Boots. Soft, squishy paw pads that made people itch to poke them.
And if he just happened to stick his tongue out a little—pretending it was an accident—he could have anyone wrapped around his paw. Easily top-tier among Spirit Beasts.
With a face this cute, what kind of plushie would even be appropriate? His collection was full of tiny, adorable, snuggle-worthy things just begging to be chewed on.
Apologies in advance, Sefiut. You’re just going to have to live cute for a while.
That much effort should be enough. Now it was time to choose. Ries dumped all his plushies onto the floor and began deliberating seriously.
“Pfft.”
A laugh came from behind him. Ries whipped his head around to catch the culprit. Ketir was within target range, trying to stifle his laughter behind a hand.
You might as well just laugh out loud.
He knew exactly how ridiculous he must look—lined up plushies, deep in thought, serious as a judge.
But there was no point in retaliating. Justyn might not have made a sound, but Ries could see how hard he was fighting not to laugh.
Fine, go ahead and laugh…
If it made his owner happy, then whatever. Ries smothered his grumbling and focused on the task at hand.
One cat, two bunnies, a giraffe, three teddy bears. A few fruit- and veggie-shaped plushies.
Which one should he take?
He squinted, eyes drifting sideways.
Let’s be real—the best option’s already decided.
The fish plushie nestled protectively at his side. It had the prestigious honor of being Ries’s favorite plush.
Made by Justyn himself, painstakingly stitched together despite pricking his fingers. And now Ries was planning to use it as a vessel for a ghost. He felt a little bad…
But hey, wasn’t Sefiut technically a blood relative?
Passing the plush along to help break the curse seemed more than fair. And since it was made by a direct descendant, maybe it’d even make the necromancy easier.
And then there was the real kicker.
If Sefiut settled into the fish plush, Ries would have to carry it everywhere.
Now imagine—he chose a different plush instead of the one Justyn made?
He’d definitely be upset.
He wouldn’t say anything, of course. But he’d stare with those eyes that said, You don’t like it?
Ries couldn’t have that. Just the thought was unbearable. He quietly pulled the fish plush closer.
Choosing this one meant a three-for-one win? No-brainer. The only downside: no arms or legs—it was a fish, after all.
Sefiut could deal with it. Ries happily shoved that problem onto his future self.
The next day, Ries set out on a walk, fish plush clutched tight. A lingering gaze tickled the back of his head.
He glanced back—and locked eyes with Justyn. At a glance, his face looked expressionless. But Ries, who’d spent plenty of time with him, knew better.
He’s definitely pleased.
Seeing Ries carry around the plush he’d made clearly made him happy. His reaction was easy to read.
The only issue was…
Soon, that plush is going to be possessed.
Ries quietly averted his gaze. That guilty conscience he thought he’d tossed away started prickling again. Best to get out of here. He scampered off, paws moving fast.
Eventually, he reached the gallery.
As always, Sefiut was floating lazily through the air. The moment he sensed someone approach, he cracked one eye open—and spotted the fish plush dangling from Ries’s mouth.
—…You’re kidding, right?
A round, pudgy fish plush—fins boldly removed except for the tail, all in the name of peak cuteness. The moment he realized what it was, Sefiut bolted upright.
—I told you to bring something cool, and you show up with this stupid-looking fish?!
“Mwung. Aaaang!”
Wow, harsh. For your information, this was handmade by my master.
—Th-that’s…
The tirade cut off mid-sentence, his mouth snapping shut like a clam. Apparently, the old ghost had a soft spot for his bloodline.
But that was as far as it went. After a long pause, Sefiut suddenly floated back, quick and sharp. The message was crystal clear—there’s no way I’m entering that thing.
—Look, I’m an objective, fair-minded spirit, alright? I don’t let family ties cloud my judgment. Just because my descendant made it doesn’t mean I’ll go easy. Sure, it’s kinda cute, but nowhere near good enough for me!
His tone was so overly dramatic, it bordered on theatrical. Ries gave him a look of thinly veiled annoyance.
And the complaints didn’t stop there. At this rate, the ghost was seconds away from launching into “100 Reasons I Absolutely Refuse to Possess a Fish Plush.”
How do I get him in there…?
Ries wasn’t listening anymore—one ear in, the other out.
Sefiut clearly wasn’t going to enter on his own, which made things trickier. Just chucking the plush at him wouldn’t work either; he could phase through walls and objects like it was nothing.
Ries racked his brain, and then—bingo.
Didn’t I hear something once… about a ritual using a plush?
It wasn’t a game, not really—more like a creepy solo ritual. He vaguely recalled it involved stuffing a spirit into a doll using things like fingernails or strands of hair.
“….”
Ries’s eyes locked onto Sefiut’s head, hands, and feet.
Yeah, no way. He was a ghost—no physical body, no nails, no hair. And even if he had left something behind when he died, it had probably turned to dust ages ago.
Scratch that plan.
That left one last option—Ries’s final trump card.
I’ll just shove him in myself.
As a member of the Myo tribe, Ries had a unique ability—to physically interact with spirits. He could hear them, touch them. He’d already confirmed that yesterday.
So why not use that power to forcibly lodge Sefiut into a body?
There was no solid reasoning behind it—just a gut feeling. But somehow, he knew he could do it.
He crept up toward Sefiut. The ghost, still passionately monologuing, didn’t notice a thing.
Ries waited for the perfect moment, then focused all his energy into one paw—and grabbed Sefiut’s leg.
Then he clung to him like a cat grabbing hold of someone’s pants. Sefiut hadn’t reacted in time—this was his chance! Ries yanked with everything he had.
—W-WAIT! Why are you so stupidly strong?! You little—LET GO!
Under normal circumstances, there was no way a cat could overpower a full-grown man. But apparently, the rules were different when it came to ghosts. Surprisingly, Sefiut was getting dragged without much resistance.
“Myaaaark!”
I’m really sorry, Elder!
—DON’T CALL ME THAT, YOU BRAT!
But then Sefiut stiffened mid-drag, digging in with everything he had. What started as a one-sided pull turned into a full-on stalemate.
This wasn’t working. Ries shut his eyes and made the call—he’d use the real last-resort move.
Flash. His body started to glow.
—YOU LUNATIC! THAT’S A FOUL—!
Ries grew. His body doubled in size—and with it, his strength. The poor ghost, who had been barely holding his ground, got yanked right off balance.
Now!
Ries didn’t waste the opening. He shoved the fish plush forward—hard.
And just like that, Sefiut was sucked straight into the round, adorable fish.
“Hahh… hahh… ugh…”
A strange, heavy chill swept through the gallery—proof something unnatural had just happened. But Ries didn’t notice.
He was spent.
Why… why am I so wiped out?
His heart was pounding like he’d just sprinted a marathon. His breath came in sharp gasps, and his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed to the floor.
The cold wooden boards chilled his skin. He set the plush down and sat there, gulping air, trying to recover.
