Misunderstanding... Mico...

Zarn turned a corner and stopped short. A dead end.

He exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to curse. Behind him, the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps filled the narrow alley. A dozen figures emerged from the dim glow of flickering streetlights, their expressions smug, their postures relaxed—predators who believed they had already won.

Mico rumbled in amusement beside him, his tail flicking lazily.

"Well," Zarn muttered, rolling his shoulders. "So much for a good day."

A deep chuckle came from the group. A man stepped forward, his long, tattered coat swaying slightly. The harsh light carved shadows across his scarred face, making the jagged mark running from his brow to his jaw look even more menacing.

"Heh… what do we have here?" the scarred man drawled. "Seems we've hit the jackpot, boys."

Zarn blinked. Jackpot?

"Huh?" he blurted out, genuinely caught off guard.

"Oh? Seems the jackpot talks, boss," one of the thugs sneered, stepping up with a grin far too pleased for Zarn's liking. "Hey, brat, you understand us?"

Zarn shot him a flat look. "Why wouldn't I?"

The man opened his mouth, but the scarred leader waved him off impatiently. "Doesn't matter. What does matter is how much your folks are willing to pay."

Zarn sighed, already piecing things together. This wasn't the first time some desperate slumper had mistaken him for a runaway rich kid. He was too well-dressed, too clean, and most importantly—Mico was too damn flashy. A beast like Mico screamed high-blood heir, the kind of exotic companion only a noble or a corporate brat would own.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. For fuck's sake, not again.

"Listen," he started, raising a hand. "I think there's been a—"

"Oh, would you look at this?" the scarred man interrupted, turning to his men. "The rich spawn knows how to argue too." He let out a hearty laugh before leveling a sharp gaze at Zarn. "Boy, I don't got time for your excuses. You either come with us nice and easy, or we do this the hard way."

Zarn sighed, shaking his head. "You're not listening—"

"Go get him, boys."

A snap of the leader's fingers set everything in motion.

One of the muggers hesitated. "Boss, the beast—"

"Get the boy. My Raque will handle the oversized cat," the scarred man cut in, lifting a hand. A glowing magic circle expanded across his palm, its intricate symbols pulsing with controlled Senar.

Zarn eyed the Raque. So, he's an actual summoner.

A portal flared open, and from it leaped a massive, muscle-bound panther—a Raque. Its fur was deep brown, almost black, with eerie golden eyes that locked onto Mico. This Raque was far bigger than the one Zarn had seen in the Local Hub, its aura radiating experience and raw power. Probably a level higher.

Oversized cat? Me?

Mico froze, his irritation rising like a tidal wave. A lion—a proud predator of fire and fury—had just been reduced to an oversized cat?

The sheer audacity.

A low, dangerous growl rumbled from his throat. His ethereal blue flames flared along his small but proud mane, casting eerie shadows against the alley walls. Zarn instinctively placed a hand on his companion's back, feeling the comforting heat.

Let it go, he urged silently. We don't need to fight them. If we go with them, we can clear up this stupid misunderstanding later.

But Mico was not one to let an insult slide.

BOOM!

Mico launched forward, a streak of blue fire and fury.

The Raque barely had time to react before Mico slammed into it like a comet. The impact sent the larger beast skidding backward, its claws gouging deep furrows into the cracked pavement.

The Raque snarled and countered instantly, lunging for Mico's throat. But Mico ducked low, twisting his body with unnatural agility. His flaming claws slashed upward, carving a searing arc across the Raque's chest. Sparks and embers danced in the air as scorched fur curled from the heat.

The Raque let out a pained yowl, staggering back. Its owner narrowed his eyes.

"Steel claw," the scarred man ordered.

A sharp metallic shing rang through the alley. The Raque's claws shimmered, coated in a dense layer of hardened Senar. It lunged—

—but Mico was faster.

He sidestepped smoothly and countered with a whip of his tail, sending a pulse of concentrated blue flames into the Raque's ribs. The beast crumpled to the ground with a strangled cry, struggling to rise.

Zarn watched, arms crossed, as the muggers stood frozen in stunned silence.

"Mico," he called, his voice calm but firm.

Mico let out one final growl before stepping back, his luminous blue eyes gleaming with challenge. The Raque shuddered but did not move again.

Zarn shook his head. "We can stop here if you walk away."

The scarred man gritted his teeth, weighing his options. Logically, retreating was the right call. But logic rarely won against pride. If anything, Mico's overwhelming strength only confirmed their earlier belief—Zarn had to be valuable.

"Tch." The scarred man spat. "So your beast is strong. So what? Do you think you can take all of us on?"

Zarn exhaled through his nose. "Maybe, maybe not. But since we're already here, we can just find out."

The muggers stirred, their hesitation shifting into aggression at their boss's growing anger.

"Oh, you hear that, boys?" The scarred man sneered. "The rich spawn thinks he's better than us! Let's remind him who runs these streets."

"Yeah, boss… Seems we've gone soft." One of the thugs chuckled, drawing a machete. But more concerningly, he also pulled out a small vial filled with an eerie, glowing green liquid.

Zarn's eyes sharpened. "Senar vials."

"Hah! The rich spawn knows what they are?" the thug taunted.

"Yeah. Illegal bottles of trouble." Zarn's lips curled in disgust. "Senar vials force raw Senar into your body, temporarily boosting your abilities. It's cheap power. Unstable power. You might experience a power spike for a few minutes, but when the backlash hits—" He gestured vaguely. "Well, let's just say I wouldn't put my self in your shoes."

The scarred man grinned, popping the cork off his own vial. "That's the difference between you and us, kid." His fingers twitched, and Senar pulsed violently around him as he downed the liquid in one gulp.

Zarn gently nodded his head. "Alright. Let's see how well that plan works out for you."

He glanced at Mico by his side. Mico had his fangs bared. The blue flames of his mane flared hungrily, licking at the night air. "Go easy on them." He took a step back.

"We need the boy alive. One of you, grab him. The rest of you—let's butcher this cat." The scarred man barked his orders, drawing a short, sword-like staff from the makeshift sheath on his back. A pulse of Senar crackled around him as he brandished the weapon. With a sharp step forward, he lunged at Mico. "Come on, Zrymo! Let's take this beast down!" he commanded his Raque, the massive panther springing to action beside him.

"Come here, brat!" One of the thugs broke away, making a beeline for Zarn.

Zarn barely spared him a glance. "Mico?" he called, his tone almost lazy.

Don't worry, sickhead. Mico's voice rumbled through their link, laced with amusement. They're easy pickings.

The thug who had peeled off to seize Zarn was the first to realize his mistake. His plan had been to flank the group, isolate the boy, and grab him before the lion could react. It wasn't a bad strategy—if only Mico weren't Mico.

The blue-flamed lion blurred into motion, a streak of fire weaving through the crowd. Before the man could even process what was happening, Mico was upon him.

BAM!

His body slammed through a crumbling wall. A deep, charred claw marks across his chest, the testimony of Mico strength.

A thick silence followed.

The remaining muggers hesitated, a flicker of doubt creeping into their eyes. The Senar vials had bolstered their strength, but borrowed power could only do so much. Against Mico's raw, overwhelming force, the difference was undeniable.

"Tch! Hold your ground!" the scarred man snarled. "You, left flank! You, right! We take the beast down together!"

The group moved in unison, their enhanced speed allowing them to close in on Mico from all sides. Under the flickering streetlights, their blades gleamed as they struck.

Mico's tail lashed. A surge of blue flames erupted around him, swirling outward in a blazing inferno. The sheer heat forced some of them to falter, but two pressed on, determined to land a blow.

Idiotic humans. Mico sneered internally.