CHAPTER 164: CHAPTER-164

Quiet as a shadow, he slipped into her room. Every. Single. Night.

Kaya had left her gun by the pillow, its margin placed carefully to the side—an unspoken test. And every time he saw it, his body tensed, his feathers fluttered, and his expression—fear. Hesitation. Regret.

He never tried to take the gun.

And whenever he looked at it, he looked utterly terrified. His eyes widened, his breath catching ever so slightly as if the mere sight of it might explode in his face.

As always, he transformed into his human form—hands shaky, jaw clenched—and carefully tried to load the margin into the gun. Of course, like the fool he always turned into in that moment, he did it upside down. The click never came. Instead, a soft clunk echoed, sharp enough to make him flinch.

And maybe... in desperation to correct it, to fix his mistake before someone noticed, he did what he always did.

He made a copy.

Another gun appeared, gleaming under the low light of the room.

But that was the final one. No more followed. The magic—whatever residue he was tapping into—seemed to stop responding after that.

The margin though, the one he couldn’t insert right, still obeyed. Whenever he slammed his hand against the metal table with frustration, a soft pop echoed, and like flickering magic, another margin appeared. Clean. Ready. But cursed in his hands.

And of course, being exactly who he was, he tried to hide it.

Frantic, looking around like a thief mid-crime, he spotted the small clay pot tucked into the corner of the room. Kaya rarely touched it—or so he thought. Without hesitation, he slipped the freshly made margin inside. Then another. And another.

By now, Kaya already had four margins filled to the brim with bullets—and three guns lined up neatly in her storage. To anyone else, that was a war chest. For Kaya, it was a beginning.

It was a good sign. But she wasn’t foolish enough to think the sparrow would keep repeating his little accidents forever. No—he was already getting jumpy each time his hand sparked that flicker of light. She could see it in the way he flinched, or how his gaze darted to her when the click of metal echoed louder than intended.

Still, Kaya now had enough bullets to put down everyone in this godforsaken place if needed. That wasn’t just reassuring—it was power. And it was finally time to use it to peel away the truth.

She exhaled, stood up, brushing her hands on her rough trousers. The air was turning colder. The clouds looked like they were debating whether to snow or not. Without sparing another glance at the sparrow, Kaya walked toward him, her footsteps deliberate and even.

"Let’s go and gather some lotus roots," she said casually, voice light—almost too light.

The workers nearby froze mid-motion. Someone paused with hay still halfway to their mouth. Another blinked rapidly as if trying to understand whether they’d heard correctly.

Cutie looked up from the corner, brows furrowing. "Lotus root?" he asked, his tone caught between confusion and concern. "It’s already night..."

Kaya turned slightly to him, her smile slow and faint but warm enough to be convincing. "Oh no, I just thought... it’s such a nice weather tonight. Crisp, quiet. Soon winter will bury everything. We won’t get to enjoy nights like this anymore."

She tilted her head, eyes soft but unreadable. "So, I figured we should take this one. While it’s still ours."

Cutie looked at the crackling fire, spoon in hand, and blinked. "Um... but I’m cooking."

Kaya let out a soft laugh—light, but with mischief dancing in her voice. "Oh no, no, I’m not asking everyone to come. I was just thinking—" she paused dramatically, already reaching out, "—that I should go and check it out."

And in one swift, unapologetic movement, she grabbed the sparrow by the wings, lifted him effortlessly like a feathered sack of rice, and held him up in front of everyone like a prized chicken.

"I mean this guy here—he needs to do some work too! Look at him—don’t you all think he’s gotten a little too fat?"

Her tone was playful but teasing, a glint of challenge hidden behind her smile.

The people around the fire, initially startled, looked at one another... then at the dangling bird. Silence gave way to a few snickers. And slowly, chuckles spread like ripples in a pond.

The sparrow flapped his wings once, twice—then froze. His small black eyes widened, glistening with the disbelief of a betrayed royal.

"CHRIP?"

(FAT?)

his voice cracked inside his head.

The very air around him seemed to still as he stared at Kaya, stunned, like she’d just slapped a crown off his feathered head.

How dare she?

How could she?

He puffed up instinctively, feathers bristling in outrage.

Chirp! Chirp chirp!

("What the hell, woman?!")

Kaya’s smile widened, devilish now, like she’d just set a trap and watched it snap shut. She leaned in, nose almost touching his beak.

"Oh, am I wrong?" she said, her voice honey-smooth and infuriatingly calm. "Then why don’t you tell me—"

She raised an eyebrow, a mock-innocent tilt to her head.

"—what color are your nails right now?"

The sparrow glared at Kaya, tiny black eyes filled with fiery outrage. With all the confidence in the world, he puffed his chest, narrowed his eyes, and glanced down as if to prove a point.

But then... he froze.

His beak dipped lower and lower, trying to catch a glimpse of his feet—only to be met with the sight of his round, fluffy brown belly. That was all.

A beat of silence.

He blinked. Then sucked in his stomach with all his might, feathers twitching from the effort. But—no luck. Still just belly. No sign of those tiny claws he was so proud of.

Kaya tilted her head, arms crossed, watching him like one would watch a particularly entertaining stage play. "Wow," she murmured. "That was... impressive."

From nearby, a few beastmen failed to hold it in. They snorted, covering their mouths, shoulders shaking.

The sparrow’s feathers bristled. His face turned a deep red—not easy for a bird, but he managed. He spun toward Kaya with full dramatic flair, as if every bit of this humiliation was her doing.

"Chrrrriiiiipppp!!" he screeched indignantly, flapping his wings in a furious storm.

And then—he flew.

Well, he tried.

He lifted off the ground with sheer determination, wings flapping wildly... but rather than soaring gracefully, he wobbled mid-air like a chicken that had dreams bigger than its wings.

Seeing that her plan had worked, Kaya couldn’t help the satisfied smile curling on her lips. The sparrow was finally alone, sulking in the distance. Perfect.

She turned toward the beastmen and said casually, "I’ll go bring him back."

The group nodded in unison, some with knowing smirks, like this was just another spat between a quirky couple. Yeah, they all knew the sparrow was one of them—a beastman—but what they didn’t know was that Kaya had no clue. For them, it was a lover’s quarrel. For her... it was just a bird who needed chasing.

Except for one—Cutie.

His face had gone pale. He bit down on his lower lip, clearly torn, and then forced a smile. "Should I come with you? You know... it’s getting dark."

Kaya turned to him, her smile sweet, but her eyes had a gleam that didn’t match. "No, no. My eyes work just fine, thank you. Besides, it’s not that dark yet. Still early."

Cutie looked like he wanted to insist, but Kaya had already turned around. She took a few steps before pausing.

"Oh—and cook the food," she added over her shoulder. "I’ll be back in five minutes."

And with that, she disappeared into the darkness, her steps light but determined.

The area was mostly plain, with nothing but a quiet pond at the center. Kaya spotted the sparrow easily. He was sitting on a stone near the water, looking small and sulky. His feathers were puffed up, and he wasn’t moving much—just staring at the pond like it had personally offended him.

Kaya slowed her steps as she walked closer. The air was calm, but her presence made a soft crunch against the dry ground. The sparrow didn’t turn, but his wings gave a tiny twitch, like he knew she was there.

She stood a few feet away and crossed her arms, looking at him with an unreadable expression.

Kaya walked toward him slowly, her steps unhurried, almost casual—almost.

Then, in a voice too calm to be truly innocent, she said,

"You know... the past few nights have felt a little odd."

The sparrow stiffened—not overtly, but enough.

Kaya didn’t stop. Her eyes scanned the horizon briefly, like she was simply making conversation.

"Funny thing is," she continued, tilting her head slightly, "I’d go to bed after cleaning every corner of my room. And when I’d wake up... spotless. Still. Except—"

...

"This"