CHAPTER 153: CHAPTER-153.

Why would the vulture tribe chase a harmless sparrow?

That was the first question. And it didn’t sit right.

Then came the second: her test. A simple one, but enough to reveal truth.

She had left the sparrow behind. In that cave. Alone.

If he’d followed her like a normal bird—loyal and attached—she might have still believed it was just a special kind of beast world creature, built differently. Stronger, maybe, more aware.

But no.

He stayed.

He waited.

Even after she was long gone.

And that... that was not bird behavior.

No wild bird—no matter how fond of its master—would choose to stay in one place waiting. Not in a place so lifeless. So still.

And that was when she knew.

This wasn’t just a clever sparrow with a sharp mind.

No, this was something else entirely.

Something wearing feathers, maybe. But definitely not a bird.

She didn’t know the full truth yet.

But Kaya...

She was sure of one thing now.

This creature was pretending.

But even then, Kaya just picked up the guns, calmly.

Without saying anything, she placed the magazines back into each gun with practiced ease, and then slid them both beneath her coat. She pulled the coat on, covering the weapons, and lay down.

And then—she slept.

Really slept.

Not the kind of half-sleep she faked to observe him. Not alert. Not tense.

Just sleep.

Because the reason she didn’t confront him earlier wasn’t because she didn’t know. It wasn’t because she felt something soft or warm for him—not even a trace of familiarity. No.

It wasn’t that.

The truth was simple.

If she had to beat an ordinary bird, that was easy—useless and light, done in seconds. But if this sparrow truly was a beastman?

Then that was a different story.

Beastmen were just... too beautiful to beat.

And honestly, just think about it—

If, in his bird form, he could talk this much, then what would happen if he took human form?

The thought alone gave her a headache.

So Kaya did what she did best—she ignored it.

Let him act. Let him pretend. She didn’t care.

But after tonight, something lingered.

What surprised her wasn’t the noise, or the broken gun, or even the duplicate.

It was what she saw.

A person who had the ability to copy something.

That was not a common skill.

And it wasn’t something she would forget—not easily.

Because if he could copy a gun...

Then what else?

Could he copy bullets?

The thought stuck with her, almost stubbornly.

If he could, then maybe—just maybe—she wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells every day, calculating her shots like precious seconds.

And for someone like Kaya, that possibility?

It meant everything.

As soon as dawn broke, Kaya stood silently in front of the pond.

Yes—a pond, calm and clear under the morning light.

Without hesitation, she crouched near the water’s edge and dipped her gun in, submerging the mouth of the barrel beneath the surface. Her hand remained steady.

Then—

Bang!

The shot rang out.

Muffled. Softer than usual. The sound curved through the morning air like a whispered crack, barely disturbing the stillness.

Kaya didn’t flinch.

She lowered her hand and stared down into the ripples. Reaching into the shallow part, she pulled the gun back up, water streaming off the barrel, and looked toward where the bullet had hit.

A rock.

She stepped forward, eyes scanning until she spotted it.

There, lodged in the stone, was the bullet—no longer sharp or whole, but split.

Shaped.

Blossomed.

It had opened into something almost delicate—like a flower petal, unfurling outward from impact.

Kaya bent down and examined it closely.

And then—

A small smile flashed across her lips.

Brief. Satisfied.

Like something had just confirmed itself in her mind.

Kaya didn’t have a silencer.

So she’d used the pond instead.

She submerged the barrel, knowing full well that water could muffle sound. Not entirely, but enough. If this bullet was truly real—a perfect copy—then upon impact with the water, and then the rock, it would behave exactly like her original ones.

And it did.

Even though the pond wasn’t a river—there was no current, no heavy pressure, nothing strong enough to shape metal—still, when she pulled the bullet out and saw it bloomed into a flower-like shape, she knew.

It hadn’t been an accident.

It was real.

Her smile wasn’t because she confirmed her gun was working. No.

She already knew that.

Her smile came from a different place—

A deeper calculation.

If that sparrow could copy something... he copied it exactly.

Down to the smallest detail. Not just the look. Not just the weight.

But the function.

And that changed everything.

Now, she just needed to test it in air. See if it fired the same outside of water. But she couldn’t—not now. Not here.

There were too many beastmen around. Too many ears. And a gunshot—especially without the water—would echo loud and clear.

Someone would come.

And Kaya had no intention of revealing her position—not now, not when she was still figuring things out. This gun... this was the only thing she had that could protect her in this strange world. She wasn’t about to risk it.

So, without another thought, she tucked the gun into her pocket.

One weapon sat snug at her waist holster.

The other—an exact copy—rested on the opposite side, loose but secure.

She didn’t need a mirror.

She could feel the weight balance across her hips.

And for the first time in days, Kaya felt just a little more in control.

When Kaya returned to the hut area, the beastmen were still in the midst of waking up. Just like always, their movements were slow and groggy—until it hit them.

One by one, their faces flushed, their expressions contorted, and they instinctively covered their noses as if assaulted by the foulest stench imaginable.

At least, that’s how it looked to Kaya.

But for the beastmen, it was the complete opposite.

Like hella opposite.