[1] A Cat?

The aroma of sizzling meat and fragrant herbs filled the small café, blending with the scent of freshly baked bread and the comforting warmth of a fire.

Outside, the thick trees of the vast forest loomed, their towering presence casting long shadows over the cozy wooden establishment nestled at the heart of the wilderness.

It was a peaceful morning—at least, for Callian.

Humming softly, he flipped the thick cut of meat sizzling on the pan, letting the juices soak into the golden-brown crust. The knife beside him, absurdly sharp for kitchen use, glinted under the warm light as he absentmindedly diced a handful of fresh vegetables with the ease of a man who had once cut through far more dangerous things.

Seated by the counter, a haggard-looking man with a weathered cloak draped over his shoulders watched in stunned silence.

"You're telling me… you run a café out here?" the man finally spoke, his voice rough from exhaustion.

Callian glanced at him. "Yes."

The traveler blinked.

"…In the middle of this forest?"

"Yes."

A long pause.

"…And you've been here for six years?"

Callian flipped the meat onto a plate, garnishing it with sprigs of rosemary before pushing it toward the man. He smiled slightly. "Yes. Welcome to my café."

The traveler stared at the meal before him, mouth opening and closing. His hands trembled as he picked up the fork, his stomach twisting in hunger. But his mind was still struggling to grasp the absurdity of what he was hearing.

This wasn't just any forest.

This was the Forest of Death.

A place where even the most hardened adventurers hesitated to step foot. Where monsters of unimaginable strength roamed freely. Where death was the only certainty for those foolish enough to wander too deep.

Yet, here sat a man—calm, composed, and completely unaware—running a quaint little café as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And then there was her.

A small girl with wavy silver hair and bright violet eyes, bouncing cheerfully between tables as she carefully placed wooden cups before the other patrons.

"Here you go, mister! Drink lots, okay?" Violet beamed, her tiny hands carefully pushing a warm cup of tea toward the exhausted traveler.

The man flinched. Not because he was frightened—no, he had faced countless horrors before. He had seen men ripped apart, heard the dying screams of comrades. And yet, this—

The sheer innocence radiating from this little girl in the middle of the Forest of Death—

It was terrifying.

"Ah… thank you…" the traveler muttered weakly, taking the cup with both hands as if it were a sacred artifact.

"Violet," Callian called, his voice effortlessly smooth, carrying the weight of authority without effort. "Are you making sure our guest is comfortable?"

"Yes, Papa!"

The traveler choked. Papa?

The strongest person in this damned forest had a daughter?!

"Good girl." Callian smiled warmly, a rare expression he reserved only for his beloved daughter.

Violet giggled, pleased, and twirled slightly in place. She always loved it when her father praised her.

Callian turned back to his guest, tilting his head slightly. "You must have been lost for quite some time to have wandered this deep into the forest."

The traveler hesitated before nodding. "Y-Yeah… I got separated from my party two days ago…"

Two days alone in the Forest of Death? Most men wouldn't last two hours.

Callian, completely missing the severity of the situation, simply nodded. "Unfortunate. But you're safe now. Have a meal, regain your strength."

The traveler swallowed. Safe? Safe?!

He wanted to scream that no one was safe in this place. But then he looked at Callian—the way he moved with unshakable ease, the way his presence itself seemed to bend the air around him. He wasn't armed, yet something about him felt… impossibly dangerous.

Callian placed a fresh loaf of bread beside the man's plate. "Eat."

The traveler didn't dare refuse.

As he shakily took a bite, his mind whirled. Who the hell is this guy?

—

Callian didn't concern himself with the strange expressions his customers made. People often looked at him that way. He had long since accepted that they simply found him… intimidating.

Perhaps it was because he was a good person.

He had always thought of himself as kind and considerate. He never raised his voice unnecessarily. He never acted with arrogance. And yet, people always seemed to tread carefully around him, speaking in hushed tones and avoiding unnecessary eye contact.

Maybe it's the way I talk?

Callian had never received formal etiquette training, yet his words naturally carried the refined cadence of an aristocrat. He didn't quite understand why—perhaps it was an innate skill?

—

[Nobility Charisma]

Bestows an air of authority and elegance befitting a noble of the highest standing. Though untrained in noble decorum, the user instinctively exudes an aura of dignity, making even kings hesitate to slight them.

—

Ah.

That would explain it.

Well, it wasn't as if he minded. It made running a business easier, after all.

His gaze softened slightly as he glanced at Violet, who had now seated herself atop the counter, kicking her legs happily as she munched on a small biscuit.

Ah. His adorable daughter.

The light of his life.

The only one who mattered.

"Papa," Violet suddenly chirped, her violet eyes sparkling. "Can I get an animal?"

Callian hummed. "An animal?"

"Mm! Like a kitty!"

A thoughtful expression crossed his face. "A cat, huh…"

Violet nodded eagerly. "Uh-huh! I want a fluffy one!"

Callian considered this. He had seen some very large cats roaming around the back of the café. Some were black, others had strange markings, and some had multiple tails…

Perhaps one of those would do?

"I'll see what I can find."

Violet beamed.

The traveler, meanwhile, sat stiffly in his chair, his entire body tense.

Did this man just casually say he'd bring his daughter a beast from the Forest of Death?!

—

Later that evening, Callian stood outside the café, gazing into the forest. The moon was high, casting a cool glow over the trees.

He had just finished chopping some firewood when movement in the shadows caught his eye.

A large, sleek-furred creature emerged from the underbrush, its glowing red eyes locked onto him.

Ah. There it was.

A perfect pet for Violet.

The massive beast bared its fangs, growling lowly as it prowled closer.

Callian, ever calm, tilted his head. "Oh? You're a large one."

The demonic wolf lunged.

A few moments later, Callian returned inside, his coat slightly torn but otherwise unfazed. He dusted himself off, a pleased look on his face.

Violet, already in her nightgown, blinked up at him sleepily from her spot on the couch.

"Papa?"

Callian smiled. "I found you a cat."

Violet gasped, eyes sparkling. "Really?!"

"Mm. Very fluffy."

"Yay!"

The traveler, who had been about to retire for the night, glanced at Callian's torn sleeve and the faint smell of blood lingering in the air.

"…That wasn't a cat, was it?"

Callian looked at him blankly. "It had fur and four legs."

The traveler put his head in his hands.

Gods save them all.

*****

The so-called cat was struggling.

It had been struggling for the past several minutes.

A deep, guttural growl rumbled from its throat as it tried to escape Callian's firm grip. Its massive paws clawed at the ground, red eyes burning with fury.

Callian sighed, tilting his head as he observed the beast in his grasp.

It was a very noisy cat.

"Hmm," he mused, watching as the creature—no, the cat—continued to thrash. "You're not very well-behaved, are you?"

The demonic wolf—not a cat—snarled, its fangs bared. Its sleek black fur bristled with rage as it glared up at the man holding it effortlessly by the scruff of its neck.

The adventurer who had been staying at Callian's café pressed himself against the wall, his face deathly pale.

That wasn't just any demonic wolf.

It was a Bloodfang Alpha.

A beast feared even among top adventurers. Its fangs could tear through steel, its howl could summon an entire pack, and its bloodlust was said to drive lesser creatures mad.

And this man—this insane, oblivious man—was holding it up like some misbehaving housecat.

The creature let out another furious snarl.

Callian exhaled through his nose. "I see," he said, his voice calm. "You're the stubborn type."

Then, without hesitation, he tightened his grip and leaned in slightly, his deep voice lowering into something quiet—something almost dangerous.

"You will behave," he murmured, the warmth in his tone completely gone. "You will not scratch, you will not bite, and you will not make a fuss when my daughter hugs you."

The demonic wolf froze.

The adventurer felt the air shift.

Something heavy pressed into the space around them. It wasn't magic, it wasn't a skill—it was something far worse.

Pure, unfiltered pressure.

It wasn't the force of mana or killing intent. It was the kind of pressure that made monsters in the wild submit to a superior predator.

The kind that said, resist and you die.

A few agonizing seconds passed.

Then, to the adventurer's complete horror—

—The demonic wolf whimpered.

Its red eyes dimmed, its body going still as its ears drooped in defeat.

Callian, satisfied, gave the creature what he thought was a gentle pat on the head. In reality, it was closer to a controlled grip of dominance.

"Good kitty."

The adventurer wanted to scream.

—

Violet blinked as her father stepped inside, holding a very large and very fluffy creature in his arms.

"Papa?" she said, rubbing her sleepy eyes. "What's that?"

Callian smiled warmly. "Your new pet."

Violet gasped. "Kitty?!"

The adventurer choked.

Callian nodded. "Mm. It's a little noisy, but I had a talk with it. It understands now."

The Bloodfang Alpha, a beast capable of tearing apart seasoned warriors, let out a quiet whine but remained perfectly still.

Violet hopped down from the couch and ran over, excitement sparkling in her violet eyes.

The moment she reached out—

The demonic wolf flopped to the ground, rolling over to expose its belly in absolute surrender.

Violet squealed in delight. "Papa, it's so soft!!"

She immediately threw herself onto the massive beast, snuggling into its thick fur. The wolf, once a terrifying apex predator, lay there silently, its tail slowly wagging in submission.

Callian nodded approvingly. "See? It's a good kitty."

The adventurer opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

There were no words. No logic. No reasoning that could explain what he was seeing.

Violet giggled, hugging the massive beast. "Thank you, Papa! I love it!"

Callian felt a deep sense of pride swell in his chest.

He had done well.

He had provided for his daughter.

Yes. This was a good day.

The adventurer buried his face in his hands.

He needed a drink.