Working at the Hidden Base

The hidden base buzzed with activity in the days following the discovery of the syndicate's concealed cave. Though they'd confirmed the existence of one major operation, Commander Vessa made it clear the mission was far from over.

"One base found doesn't mean the war is won," she'd told her officers during morning briefings. "If anything, it confirms we're dealing with a larger, more organized network than we feared."

Mia had listened intently, seated off to the side with Professor Hootsworth and Nutmeg. Every mention of the rescued beasts tugged at her heart—and sparked an idea.

That afternoon, she approached Vessa directly.

"Commander," she said, walking up to her in the middle of the base's planning center. Agents were moving about, sorting through data, reviewing surveillance logs, and cross-referencing old maps. Vessa didn't look up at first, but her ears perked at Mia's voice.

"I want to help more directly," Mia continued. "I'm not a licensed officer, but I have the Evolution—" she paused, "—a natural affinity with beasts. I want to take care of the rescued ones while they're being stabilized. Help calm them, maybe even get them ready for release or rehabilitation. At least until the city competition."

Vessa leaned back in her chair, arms folded. "You want to stay here?"

Mia nodded. "I'd also like to keep up my combat training. Sparring with your officers would be good practice. I don't want to fall behind just because I'm not in the city."

"You're serious about this competition, huh?"

"It's a big deal for me. But this—" she gestured toward the medical wing visible through the glass doors, "—this matters too."

Vessa studied her for a long, unreadable moment, then sighed. "Truth is, the more skilled hands we have, the better. We only found one facility, and it's already overwhelmed our beast medics. We've got over thirty injured or malnourished creatures and only half the staff to manage them. If you're willing to get your hands dirty…"

"I'm all in."

Vessa gave a single nod. "You're authorized to assist in beast recovery and care, under supervision. And…" her eyes narrowed slightly, "if you keep up in combat training, you can join the sparring rotations with our junior agents. But don't expect anyone to go easy on you."

Mia grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"One more thing," she added, as Mia turned to leave. "That green horned snake—Serpenthorn species, rare mid-tier elemental affinity—it hasn't shown aggression toward you. If it agrees, you can contract it. Consider it repayment for your role in getting us this far."

Mia blinked, stunned. "Wait, really? You mean it?"

"Assuming it consents. We don't force contracts here. But you've earned that chance."

Mia could've floated out of the room.

The following days settled into a rhythm. In the mornings, she helped the beast care teams feed, clean, and heal the rescued animals. The calming aura of her Evolution Heart made her a favorite among the younger and more skittish beasts. Injured fox cubs curled up beside her without hesitation. A three-legged dire badger purred in her lap. Even some adult beasts, while wary, allowed her close enough for basic grooming or medicine.

She didn't advertise her ability—most assumed she just had a gift for connecting with creatures. And that was exactly how she liked it.

In the afternoons, she trained.

The open combat fields were nothing like the battlegrounds back in the city—they were practical, built for conditioning and quick response drills. Her first few matches against the officers left her winded, sore, and slightly bruised. But Nutmeg had a blast, sparring with other agile beasts and adapting to new moves with every fight. Hootsworth, ever the scholar, began compiling tactics based on the officers' formations.

By the end of the week, she'd improved in speed, endurance, and even teamwork.

"Not bad," an officer muttered after a particularly close match. "You've got instincts."

"I've got stubbornness," Mia replied with a grin, wiping sweat off her brow.

Evenings were her favorite, though.

That was when she visited her.

The green snake—whom Mia had quietly named Vireo—was recovering slowly, still wrapped in light bandages, but her vitality was returning. Her emerald scales shimmered more brightly with each passing day, and her golden eyes were as sharp as ever.

Vireo had… an attitude.

She never struck or hissed at Mia, but she always turned her head just slightly to the side, as if pretending not to see her. If Mia brought food, the snake waited until she looked away before eating. When Mia complimented her scales, Vireo flicked her tongue dismissively and slid toward the far end of her enclosure.

"She's acting tsundere," Mia whispered to Nutmeg one night. "Like, 'I don't like you or anything, baka,' but secretly she's enjoying the attention."

"I have no idea what that means," Nutmeg replied flatly. "But yeah, she's acting weird."

Professor Hootsworth chuckled from a nearby perch. "The Serpenthorn species are famously reserved. Their trust must be earned, not bought. Still, this one is showing clear behavioral patterns of interest."

"Yeah?" Mia leaned her chin on her arms, staring at Vireo. "You think she's warming up to me?"

"She slithered closer today when you brought food," Hootsworth noted. "And yesterday, she only glared for five seconds instead of ten."

"Progress."

Later that night, Mia sat outside under the stars, Nutmeg curled beside her and Hootsworth roosting nearby, scribbling notes in a floating scroll. The stars here shone brighter than they did in the city, unpolluted and unfiltered.

"This place is growing on me," Mia murmured. "It's not just the peace… it's the purpose."

"You've found something more than a competition," Hootsworth said gently. "A goal beyond victory."

She nodded. "The farm idea still won't leave my head. Even if it's years away."

"It's a worthy dream," the owl agreed.

Nutmeg rolled onto his back. "You'll make it happen. Just don't forget to win the next tournament on the way there."

Mia laughed. "Never."

As the night wind rustled through the trees, a quiet hiss came from the shadows.

Vireo slithered up behind them, her movements slow and cautious. She curled up a few feet from Mia—within the five-meter aura of the Evolution Heart—but kept her head turned away, as if pretending she just happened to be passing by.

Mia smiled and didn't move.

"Hey there, Vireo," she said softly. "Nice night, huh?"

The snake didn't respond, but her coils relaxed just a little.

Mia glanced up at the stars again.

She had a long road ahead—training, competition, maybe even battling more of the syndicate if she had to.

But she wasn't alone.

And now, it seemed, she was one step closer to finding her next partner.

Even if that partner acted like she didn't care.