Grandmother always used to tell him never to eat mushrooms he picked in the mountains. But he wasn’t sure if that was advice he should still be following in a situation like this. Grandmother and he had never been particularly fond of mushrooms to begin with, so there was no way for Haram to tell if the ones in front of him now were edible or not.
Still, they looked firm and juicy enough to moisten his throat—and maybe even fill his stomach.
“…Tsk.”
Maybe just one bite?
Da Haram tapped at one of the mushrooms with a forepaw. But in the end, he shook his head firmly and stepped back. Hunger had dulled his senses. He couldn’t risk eating an unknown mushroom and dying in an unknown place.
He backed away from the patch, only to creep forward again with a twitch of his nose. He repeated that indecisive dance around ten times.
“Chiiik…!”
Suddenly, a sharp pull yanked him backward. Haram was dragged away helplessly.
He spun around—and there it was. Another Sky Squirrel, gripping his tail. Its fur was much darker and its body nearly twice Haram’s size. It was the Sky Squirrel Beastfolk who had been watching him in the storage room.
“T-Tsk!”
Startled, Haram thrashed in place and fought back violently. With a deep sigh, the other Sky Squirrel smacked Haram hard on the head, right between his small ears.
Haram clutched his aching head, whimpering with tears in his eyes as he looked up at the Beastfolk towering over him.
The larger Sky Squirrel glanced at the mushrooms Haram had been agonizing over and muttered,
“Chiik.”
Stupid brat.
The sudden insult hit Haram like a punch to the chest. He wanted to argue back, but all he could do was open and close his mouth while holding his throbbing head.
As Haram started struggling again to free his tail, the other Beastfolk pointed a forepaw toward the thick darkness between the trees.
“Chiik.”
Go that way. If you keep going straight, you’ll find a spring. Head down past it and you’ll reach a village—but avoid the village. They’re wary of outsiders. Just stick to the main road. Eventually, you’ll come across a small fishing supply shop run by an old man. Go there and ask for help.
The longer the Sky Squirrel spoke, the more Haram’s expression shifted, finally settling into pure confusion as he stared up at him.
“Chiik.”
Stop picking up garbage like this and get to the spring already.
Just as the Beastfolk raised his paw again—clearly aiming to smack Haram’s head once more—Haram flinched and darted out of reach. Or rather, the man had let him go.
Haram stood there awkwardly, stole a glance at the man, and asked cautiously,
“…T-Tweet?”
…Why are you helping me?
Whether he believed the man’s words wasn’t the issue. The real question was why someone who’d been watching him until now was suddenly offering help.
Reading the suspicion in Haram’s eyes, the Sky Squirrel calmly replied.
“Chi, Chiik.”
What he said next hit Haram like a blow to the gut.
There was a tiny camera in the room. You probably didn’t know, but we knew all along you could escape the cage. We just let it slide. I wasn’t planning to help you, but giving you directions is the least I can do—as a fellow Sky Squirrel. There aren’t many people stationed here because we have to keep this place hidden. There’s still not a huge search party after you. That’s why now is your only chance to run.
When the man mentioned the camera in the storage room, Haram’s jaw dropped in shock. But as the man explained that he’d turned a blind eye all this time, Haram clamped his mouth shut, eyes darting about.
Should he say thank you first? Probably.
If the man had meant to capture him, he would’ve dragged him off by the tail already. It seemed he truly intended to help.
“Tsk, Tsk.”
Haram dipped his head in a polite bow toward the Sky Squirrel Beastfolk and took a good look at him for the first time. If Haram’s current size was about as big as a human fist, then this Sky Squirrel was about the size of Tae-yi’s fist.
“…Tweet?”
…Your tail?
Why didn’t he have one? No—on closer inspection, he did have one. It was just incredibly short, like it had been cut off.
Noticing Haram’s eyes on his stump of a tail, the man raised his paw and smacked Haram’s head again.
A sharp smack! rang out, and Haram whimpered, staring up at him with teary eyes.
“Chiik!”
Go—now!
The Sky Squirrel snapped at Haram to stop dawdling and run like his life depended on it. If he got caught again, there’d be no help, no second chances—not even a glance in his direction.
“T-Tweet!”
O-Okay!
Haram nodded vigorously and took off in the direction he’d been told, not even stopping to rub his aching head.
He turned back once to offer a final thank you, but the Sky Squirrel was already gone.
Haram stared at the empty space where the man had stood, then bowed deeply before sprinting toward the spring.
***
With trembling hands, Secretary Kim turned the doorknob, swallowing dryly as he stepped into the room.
“Did you find him?”
Kang Tae-jin, who had been staring out the window with his arms crossed, strode up to Kim at once. But his expression had already given away the answer.
“If you were going to let him out of your sight, you should’ve locked him in a sealed room where even a rat couldn’t escape!”
His furious roar shook the walls of the spacious room.
Secretary Kim bowed his head so deeply that sweat trickled from his clenched fists.
“We’ll need to expand the search party. I apologize.”
He could deal with shaking hands, but when even his tongue trembled, that was harder to suppress. There was no telling what a violent Alpha like Tae-jin might do. Every word he spoke had to be forced through gritted teeth.
“Expand the search party? Why not just file a missing person report while you’re at it?”
Kang Tae-jin hurled an empty wine bottle at Kim, then raked his hand through his hair in frustration.
The bottle hit Kim’s stomach before clattering loudly across the marble floor—an obnoxious noise that clashed with the quiet pre-dawn air.
If he made any rash moves in the yard while hiding Da Haram, Tae-yi might catch on. He couldn’t afford to botch this now. Not when the one thing that could sway Kang Tae-yi wasn’t his bedridden father or his massive fortune—but that palm-sized rodent.
“If you don’t find him by morning, keep an eye on whether Kang Tae-yi leaves Seoul.”
Tae-jin, having calmed a little, stared out into the darkness.
If Da Haram had contacted Tae-yi, there was no doubt he’d immediately leave Seoul. The thought made Tae-jin’s blood boil all over again.
He had been so close to wrapping Kang Tae-yi around his finger. And now this—this absolute disaster.
Run off through the ventilation shaft after ripping out the fan blades? Not with help. Not even with someone rescuing him. He escaped through that?!
Could he really have slipped out of the birdcage that easily from the start?
“Ha…”
It was laughable. He hadn’t stayed up all night just to hear something this ridiculous.
Running his hands down his face like washing up, Tae-jin slammed the table again in a fit of rage.
“I don’t care if it’s a crushed corpse—bring him back in front of me now!”
He’d treated Haram gently, thinking he’d be useful as a hostage. But the little bastard had pulled a fast one. He should’ve been tied up and locked in the basement from the start, not left in a damned birdcage.
If Haram made it to Kang Tae-yi, it would be over before negotiations or threats even began. He couldn’t let that happen.
In the blink of an eye, their positions would flip—from predator to prey. And with kidnapping on the table, Tae-yi would come at him without mercy.
Watching Kang Tae-jin claw at his scalp in paranoia, Secretary Kim wiped his sweat-drenched palms and spoke up.
“I’ll expand the search in the direction Da Haram escaped—then head down to the village.”
“Don’t make a scene. Don’t go asking people around. Find him yourself.”
“Understood.”
Secretary Kim bowed again and quickly left the room.
“Haa…”
Only after gently closing the door behind him did he feel like he could breathe.
Even if Kang Tae-jin hadn’t ordered it, he’d have wanted to crush Da Haram himself.
Tae-jin’s life wasn’t the only one on the line. From the moment they’d kidnapped Haram, his own life had been staked too. And now the bastard had escaped.
Secretary Kim had disliked him from the moment they’d met in that backwoods village. He should’ve made him sell the land back then, no matter what.
If he had, things wouldn’t have spiraled like this.
Regret flooded in too late.
He had to find Da Haram. No matter what. But that urgency was quickly overwhelmed by another emotion—pure dread.
How the hell were they supposed to catch a Sky Squirrel who’d taken flight into the forest? They didn’t even know where to begin.
If Haram got back to Kang Tae-yi…
Tae-jin might survive. But Secretary Kim was definitely a dead man.
Director Kang would never let something like this slide—not after everything.
As Kim stood frozen in the empty hallway, a sudden crash from inside Tae-jin’s room made his shoulders jolt.
He could picture him clearly—smashing every piece of furniture in sight, blinded by fury.
Was it really worth sticking by Tae-jin? That incompetent Alpha was nothing but a rotting rope now.
Maybe…
Grimacing, Secretary Kim shut his eyes tightly and headed toward the front door, his expression pitch black.
