CHAPTER 50: CORE REVELATION: A TAMER'S SECRET

A few moments later, rustling leaves and crunching twigs announced the return of the fatty insect. It came crawling back through the underbrush with exaggerated effort, clearly exhausted and sporting the air of someone who had just endured a personal tragedy. It looked positively livid—its small face twisted in indignation, cheeks puffed out, and tiny eyes glaring daggers at John.

The insect stopped right in front of him, huffing dramatically. "From now on, I won't help you. Watch out!" it barked, its tiny voice filled with outrage.

John blinked and leaned down, gently scooping the insect up into his palm. He tilted his head, pretending to be thoughtful, though a mischievous glint had already entered his eye.

"Hey, fatty insect," he said, voice light but laced with a teasing tone. "Do you see that pond over there?"

The insect turned its head slightly, its eyes narrowing suspiciously.

John gestured vaguely toward the gleaming body of water nearby, its surface shimmering under the golden canopy of trees. "Go drown yourself and… I mean," he paused, smiling sheepishly, "go die there."

The words stumbled out of him, the sentence faltering halfway as if even John realized how absurd and darkly humorous it sounded.

The insect's eyes widened. It glanced at the pond, then back at John, as if genuinely offended by the suggestion. But then, with a dramatic flip of its head and a defiant gleam in its eyes, it declared, "If you come with me to drown in that pond, then I'm ready to go."

John blinked again, stunned. "Really?" he began, confused by the insect's sudden shift from indignation to absurd loyalty.

But before he could say anything further, the insect launched itself—sprang—like a rubber ball wound too tight. With pinpoint accuracy, it smacked right into his cheek.

"Ow—!" John winced, stumbling back a step.

His cheek turned bright red instantly, a stinging burn left behind by the small but mighty attacker.

"Do I look crazy to you? Drown and die in the pond? What kind of command is that?" the fatty insect shrieked, bouncing off his face with dramatic flair.

And just like that, in the next heartbeat, it vanished. A sudden burst of light flared around it—and the insect was gone, leaving behind only a faint glow and silence.

John stood frozen for a second, rubbing his cheek gently. Despite the sharp sting and the insult, he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. That insect, as annoying as it was, had a bizarre charm. Its over-the-top antics never failed to amuse him.

But someone else wasn't quite as entertained.

"That fatty insect didn't listen to you, and you're smiling?" the Velociraptor growled, its eyes narrowing in disbelief. It tilted its head slightly, staring at John with something bordering on disapproval. "Don't you have any sense? If a beast doesn't obey you, you're a disgrace to beast tamers."

John turned toward it but didn't respond. The smile remained on his face—gentle, knowing.

The Velociraptor continued glaring, its claws twitching. But then, something shifted in its gaze. The creature's eyes slowly widened, pupils dilating as realization dawned.

"Wait a minute..." it said, voice dropping into something almost reverent. "Where did that fatty insect go?"

Its sharp gaze darted around, scanning the area—but there was no sign of the insect.

"He turned into light, right?" the raptor whispered more to itself than to John. "Does that mean…" It turned back to John, eyes locked in, intensity burning through its confusion. "Do you have a neuro core?"

John nodded casually. "Yeah, I do," he said, as if stating he had a spare coin in his pocket.

The Velociraptor reeled back, stunned. "But… you're just a kid," it stammered, voice full of disbelief. "How did you generate a neuro core?"

John didn't answer immediately, his expression calm and unreadable. But before anything else could be said—before the moment could linger—the Velociraptor suddenly lurched.

Its eyes widened in alarm, and a clawed hand flew to its throat. A strange sensation overtook it—foreign and overwhelming. It tried to speak, to ask, to demand—but no words came out. Only silence.

Its body trembled.

It wasn't pain. Not quite. It wasn't fear either.

It was something else—something it couldn't describe. Something buried inside, rising fast, swallowing speech and freezing thought.

John stepped forward, alarm flickering in his eyes. "Hey—what's wrong?" he asked, voice low but steady.

But the Velociraptor couldn't answer.

Its throat convulsed as it stared at him—speechless, breath catching—its mind a storm of possibilities. That light. That connection. That core.

It changed everything.