CHAPTER 192: CHAPTER-192

Then, slowly, his gaze shifted. He looked around—first at the walls, then the roof, then the side of the house. After a moment, he began walking calmly toward the boundary of the house.

His eyes scanned the area carefully, until they stopped at a small square opening near the side wall—just big enough to let air in. It was the same opening Kaya had left for ventilation. The same spot where Veer had slipped into the house before.

Cutie stared at that opening, quiet and focused. His eyes didn’t move.

Cutie then walked back to the door, where the beastmen were still knocking. Without saying a word, he gently pushed Rin to the side and stepped forward.

Then, without hesitation, he opened the door.

It was the first time Rin had ever seen that kind of cold expression on Cutie’s face—and honestly, it scared him a little.

A wave of cold air spilled out from inside the house. The place looked exactly the same as it had months ago. Everything was still in place—clean, organized. The table, the bed, even the firewood stacked neatly in the corner.

But Kaya wasn’t there.

The house was far too cold for someone to be living in it. Silent. Empty.

While the others nervously scanned the room, eyes darting to corners and shadows, Cutie wasn’t looking for Kaya. His eyes were searching for something else.

And then he saw it.

Sitting on the side table was a large, dried brown leaf—about the size of a small tray. Drawn on it, in what looked like dried blood, was a simple but strangely heartfelt sketch: a cartoonish girl, an arrow pointing to a cartoon boy, and the two of them holding hands.

That was it. No words. But the meaning was clear.

Kaya had found her mate... and she had left.

For a few long seconds, no one said anything. The air hung still, like the house itself was holding its breath.

Everyone stared at the message, surprised—and more than a little stunned.

Everyone knew how special Kaya was. Honestly, it wasn’t surprising that so many beastmen had been drawn to her—chasing after someone like her felt almost inevitable. But none of them had expected her to leave... and definitely not like this. No warning. No goodbye. Not even a hint.

She’d never once mentioned having a mate. Forget introducing him—she hadn’t even talked about someone she liked.

So, how?

Cutie stood still, staring at the dried leaf in his hand. His eyes were unreadable, his face frozen in silence. Then, slowly, his fingers curled, tightening into a fist until the brittle leaf crumbled apart, disintegrating between his palm and fingers, scattering like dust at his feet.

No one dared to speak.

Maybe it was the natural instinct of the beastmen, the way their bodies reacted to danger. Or maybe it was the sheer intensity radiating off of Cutie. But in that moment, a chill swept through the air.

And without even realizing it, everyone around him took a step back.

One.

Two.

Their spines stiff, their breath held—because something had shifted. And they all felt it.

.

.

.

On the other side of the forest, far away from the quiet storm she had unknowingly stirred, Kaya sat beside the fire, gently warming her hands. Her shoulders were relaxed, her eyes soft with calm — completely unaware of the ripple her absence had caused.

Veer, crouched nearby as he cooked the fish over the flame, gave her a sideways glance.

"You really don’t look like someone who was ever sick," he remarked, casual but curious.

Kaya didn’t look at him right away. Instead, she let out a quiet hum, then replied in her usual calm tone, "And you don’t look like a vulture."

Veer blinked, caught off guard. "A vulture?"

She nodded slowly. "They eat meat, right?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You think I only eat rotten meat?"

Kaya finally turned her head, meeting his gaze with a straight face and a slight tilt of her head. "I didn’t say rotten... but I thought vultures only eat what’s already dead."

Veer paused, his brow raising like really now? He dropped the stick he was using to turn the fish and gave her a long, exaggerated stare.

Veer glanced over at her as he casually flipped the fish over the fire with a stick, his tone light and teasing.

"Well, what can I say? When you fall in love with a chimpanzee, you have to adapt."

Kaya froze mid-stretch. Her hand shot up, and she poked his eyelid with her finger, sharp and precise.

"If you dare call me a chimpanzee one more time, I will actually kill you," she said with full seriousness in her voice—and zero threat in her eyes.

Veer blinked, unfazed. He looked at her like she’d just said the sky was green.

"Uh... what? You told me yourself you were one. So if you’re a chimpanzee, then of course I’m gonna call you a chimpanzee. It’s not like I called you a gorilla or something."

Veer glanced at her while casually twirling the fish over the fire with a stick, his voice full of mischief.

"Well, what can I do? When you fall in love with a chimpanzee, you have to adapt."

Kaya froze. Then, without saying a word, she reached out and poked his eyelid with her finger—deadly accurate.

"If you call me a chimpanzee one more time, I swear I’ll kill you."

Veer blinked, looking at her like she’d just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

"Are you serious right now? You’re the one who told me you were a chimpanzee. So if you’re a chimpanzee, of course I’m going to call you a chimpanzee. It’s not like I called you a gorilla or something."

Then, with a completely straight face, he added,

"And even if I did call you a gorilla... don’t they belong to your extended family anyway?"

Kaya let out a long groan and grabbed her head with both hands, rubbing her temples like she could massage away her regret.

She muttered under her breath, "Why... why did I ever tell him that?"

Now she wasn’t even sure if he was teasing her, mocking her, or genuinely just labeling her like some jungle species.

Either way, the damage was done—and she had no one to blame but herself.