CHAPTER 335: CHAPTER-335.

Her mind was sharp, calculating. Every strike he threw was telegraphed, every movement repeated. He was strong, agile, and deadly—but predictable. Kaya used his own momentum against him: a series of jabs to his stomach, knees to his thighs, and a brutal roundhouse kick that sent him sprawling into a tree trunk.

Branches snapped under his weight. He struggled to rise, but Kaya was already on him, fists raining down with methodical precision. Each blow drove the wind out of his lungs, each strike a lesson in controlled violence.

The mongoose’s roars echoed across the silent night, mingling with the crunch of shattered wood and the slap of flesh. But Kaya didn’t pause. She was a storm, calm yet relentless, every movement efficient, every strike purposeful.

Finally, she stepped back slightly, chest heaving, eyes cold. The mongoose was on his knees, shaking, claws trembling, breathing ragged. Blood streaked his fur and skin. He glared at her—not just with rage, but with something else... awe.

Kaya’s lips curved into a thin, deadly smile. "I hope you’ve learned something tonight," she said quietly. Then, without warning, she kicked him sideways, sending him sprawling into the shadows once more.

Twenty minutes later, Kaya sat calmly, plucking a few grapes and letting them pop in her mouth, eyes lazily fixed on the mongoose struggling in front of her.

The creature was completely immobilized. Its hands and feet were bound so tightly that not an inch of movement remained, wrapped like a mummy—except for its head. Even its mouth was gagged, a cloth stuffed firmly inside, muffling any attempt at speech. The mongoose thrashed, hissed, and tried to struggle, but Kaya didn’t flinch. She continued eating her grapes with deliberate calm, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

Then, the hotel room door swung open.

Dead Cutie, veer, and sparrows tumbled in, panting, huffing, and staring at the scene before them. Their mouths hung open. Their eyes were wide. They were beyond shocked.

Only a few hours earlier, as soon as they’d finished eating, Kaya had sent them on a bizarre errand: buy her three roasted corn. But it wasn’t just that—they weren’t to purchase them immediately. They had to count to two thousand first. Reluctantly, they had begged her, and she had grudgingly reduced it to five hundred.

So there they had been, standing outside the corn vendor, muttering numbers under their breath, counting awkwardly and miserably while the vendor looked on like they had lost their minds. After finishing five hundred counts, they finally bought the corn and trudged back—hours later, exhausted, embarrassed, and still counting the absurdity of the task.

And now, standing in Kaya’s hotel room, they were speechless. In front of them, the mongoose was bound and defeated, and Kaya... was calm. Unbothered. Unmoved.

They exchanged glances, their minds racing. Just... what the hell happened in the meantime?

Kaya’s eyes flicked toward them, a faint, knowing smile playing at her lips. "Don’t just stare," she said smoothly. "Sit. Watch. Learn."

The trio watched, frozen, as Kaya approached the bound mongoose. Their faces were masks of disbelief and pity—but even they could sense the danger simmering in her every move. Kaya stopped in front of him, her gaze cold, sharp as a blade. Then, with deliberate precision, she landed a hard, stinging slap across his cheek. His head snapped violently to the side, his teeth grinding.

"You’ve got thirty seconds," she said, voice low, lethal. "Answer every question. Who are you? Why are you here? How do you know about me? Why try to kill me? How do you know about this gun? And—who sent you?"

She yanked the cloth from his mouth. The mongoose coughed violently, gagging, his chest heaving. When he finally croaked words, they were laced with venom.

"Don’t you—bitch! How dare you touch me! Do you even know who I am?"

Kaya tilted her head, unimpressed. Another slap. His cheek burned red, pain sharp and immediate. "Twenty-five seconds left," she said softly, almost conversationally. Then, she drew her gun with a smooth, deliberate motion, leveling it at his temple.

The mongoose froze, pupils widening. The cold metal gleamed under the dim light. "You wouldn’t dare," he growled, voice trembling.

Kaya smirked, tilting the gun down toward his foot. "Want to test that theory?" The muzzle pressed against the bone, and she pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The scream that ripped from him was inhuman. Pain shot up his leg like fire, his muscles spasming violently. Yet there was no blood, no bullet. The pressure, the precision of the strike—it was enough to make him wish he had never been born.

Kaya’s eyes never left his. Calm. Deadly. Merciless. "This is enough," she said, almost quietly, savoring the tension. "I don’t need bullets. I don’t need to make a scene. But I will get the answers I want."

The mongoose trembled, helpless, gasping, his pride shredded. Kaya leaned closer, voice a razor-edge whisper. "Start talking. Now."

Every second stretched painfully. Every breath he took was measured, each one a confession waiting to happen. The room was silent, save for his ragged panting and the faint sound of her grapes popping in her mouth.

The mongoose’s eyes rolled back. He gagged on the cloth, stuttered, and spat useless threats into the air. Kaya waited, every muscle loose, a predator who enjoys the hunt more than the kill.

"Start talking," she said, voice soft as silk and twice as dangerous.

He croaked, then coughed. "I— I don’t—" His bravado fractured under the aftershocks in his leg. Sweat beaded at his temples. "I was paid. I was told—"

"Who paid you?" Kaya’s tone was patient but the words were knives.

He hiccupped a laugh that was half sob. He looked at the three watching faces—Cutie, the weasel, the sparrow—then back at Kaya. His voice came out thin, broken. "A captain... No—no, not a captain. A name. Serak. Serak sent me. He said—he said you’d be alone. He said take the shot and vanish."