Orders

The sun was slowly setting.

A light breeze ruffled Lucas Gray's blazer as he lazily strolled down the pavement, his bag slung over one shoulder, one earbud dangling uselessly from his collar.

Then—

Grrgggrhh—

His stomach gave a pathetic little growl.

Lucas blinked, then looked down at himself.

"Oh yeah…"

A disappointed sigh exited his parched lips.

"I didn't eat anything before school this morning… heh, almost forgot…"

He placed a hand gently on his stomach and gave it a small pat as he frowned dramatically.

"If only it was that easy to satisfy hunger with some lube and a few rubs…"

He sighed dreamily.

"Life would be so much simpler…"

──BUZZZZZZ!

Suddenly, his phone rang.

He picked it up, frowned at the unknown number, and slowly brought it to his ear.

The first thing he heard—

"LUCAS?!"

The loud, frantic voice made him flinch as both eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

"Mom?" he asked, confused.

From the other end came a gasp of relief.

"Oh thank God! You picked up!"

Lucas blinked.

"Uh, sure… what's with the mystery number? You get a new line or somethin'?"

"Well, uhhh…"

Penelope hesitated.

Just from her voice, it was obvious she was scratching her head in that awkward way people do when they're talking.

"I sort of left the deep fryer unattended and it might've exploded and, uh… blew up the entire kitchen. And, well, the house might've also caught on fire a little bit."

Lucas froze mid-step. "Wait—what?! Are you okay?!"

Penelope gave a light, confident chuckle.

"Of course, sweetie. You know your mom's tough as nails, right? The fire department already put it out and everything, don't worry."

Lucas just gave a slow nod like she was standing right there beside him.

"So… what hotel are you crashing at?"

Penelope sighed, this time longer and heavier.

"You'll be staying at Mr. Robinson's place tonight."

Lucas blinked. "Huh?"

"Yeah, sorry, baby. I'm, uh… kinda making a formal statement at the police station right now. Might not be back till tomorrow. I would've snuck out later tonight but, well… there's still that vam— I mean wild animal prowling around at night. I'd rather not end up its late-night snack."

Lucas tilted his head, his face all scrunched up.

"Why do you need to give a formal statement at the police station? Doesn't the fire marshal just ask the usual three NPC questions or whatever?"

Penelope let out a nervous, awkward laugh.

"Eheh… they might be suspecting me for arson. Or insurance fraud. Or both. But it's not like that! I was just in a rush trying to get food to you at school, y'know? So, I uh… didn't really wanna answer their questions at first…"

The second Lucas heard that, he lowered the phone and pressed it against his chest like a microphone—then made the sign of the cross, eyes closed and grateful.

『Thank you, merciful god…』

He didn't have to eat whatever lab accident she cooked this time.

"Lucas?" Penelope's voice cut in.

He jolted and slapped the phone back to his ear, smile tighter than a cheap plastic wrapper.

"Yeah, mom?!"

She sighed, clearly exhausted.

"I know you hate staying at Mr. Robinson's place, but can you just manage it for tonight?"

Lucas shrugged, resigned. "Aight…"

He could practically hear her smile from the other side.

Then, her voice turned low and serious.

"Lucas… one more thing."

"Hm?"

"I already dropped off your food at Mr. Robinson's. You have to eat it. Before the moon comes out."

Lucas lifted a brow. "That's… oddly specific."

"I don't wanna hear it!"

She snapped with an edge in her voice he rarely heard.

"Just… do what I say."

There was no teasing in her tone, no fluff.

Just dead-serious motherly command.

Lucas nodded slowly, "Uhm… okay, sure thing."

The line clicked off.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and looked up at the street ahead. The breeze brushed against his cheek as he kept walking, muttering to himself—

"She's always so unreasonably serious about me eating her food… acts like some underpaid nutritionist in a billion-dollar tech company…"

He gave a soft sigh, shook his head with a faint chuckle, and kept walking.

But then—he stopped.

Flashing blue and red lights up ahead.

A whole row of squad cars.

Click click click. Camera shutters.

Lucas tilted his head. "Huh?"

Curiosity tugging at him, he walked a little closer.

And sure enough, there it was. Another crime scene.

A news crew already on the ground.

A beautiful female reporter in a beige trench coat stood facing the camera, her wavy brown hair perfectly styled despite the chaos around her.

"I'm Natalie Evans and this is Metro News 5, reporting live on the recent wild beast attacks that continue to haunt Liberty City. Tonight, we regret to inform you there's been another victim—this time, a student from Excelsior Academy…"

Lucas froze. "Wait, what…?"

He walked closer, trying to peek past the tape. But before he could get too close—

A tall cop stepped in front of him, firm and unamused.

"Go. Now. No place for civilians—especially students."

Lucas opened his mouth, but the officer continued—

"… come on, go on now. You'll probably hear about it in school anyway. After all…"

The man turned, looked back at the broken, mauled body sprawled behind the flashing lights.

Bite marks. Lots of them.

Lucas clenched his jaw and just nodded, then slipped away quietly.

"Still going on, huh…"

He muttered to himself.

"These wild animal attacks… ever since they started, I've been having this weird sensation."

Cold sweat rolled down his burning forehead.

"Like there's this force that's—"

His vision flickered red and black.

He grunted, stumbling slightly.

"—making me feel… hungry…"

He paused. Then slapped a hand over his face.

"… What the fuck am I even babbling about…"

･･･

Far, far above, on a distant rooftop—two white, fluffy ears twitched.

"Hhrrggghhh!"

It was such an adorable, little grunt.

"Wan! How long are we gonna keep watchin' him?!"

A girl jumped up from her crouched position and stomped to the edge. Her long, messy white hair, like the uncombed fur of a winter wolf, swayed with each annoyed step, and her bushy tail flicked like an angry metronome.

"He's obviously the one we're lookin' for!!"

She stood there, fists planted firmly on her curvy hips as her brows furrowed like storm clouds. Her snow-white skin practically glowed under the sunset, and her bright blue eyes sparkled with righteous frustration.

That cute face. That small, curvaceous body.

This was Lena.

She spun around and marched toward the deeper shadows of the rooftop.

Her eyes were locked on the figure lurking there.

"Are you seriously just gonna sit there all day and pretend to be cool—?! Like, seriously?"

From the shadows, a tall figure emerged.

A man with a short mullet, dark skin, deep yellow eyes, and a long trench coat.

At his side hung a thin, elegant rapier.

Ragar the Howler.

"No…" Ragar said calmly. "Not yet."

He stepped into the fading sunlight.

"Liberty City isn't our territory. And the Sinclair Family's already begun moving pieces. The Queen doesn't want a war—not unless we're sure that boy is the one."

Lena's pout deepened. She dropped to the floor with a thud, crossed her arms and legs, and stuck her bottom lip out like a sulky kid being told no dessert.

"Kyun… I'm so bored…"

She whined shamelessly.

"We've been watching him for almost a week, and all he's done is sleep, eat, aggressively jerk off, go to school, come back and—jerk off again!!"

She threw her head back with a frustrated howl.

"This guy's supposed to be the vessel of ruination and unending chaos, but so far, all I see is a hormonal, immature little perv!"

Suddenly, she grabbed both her soft, sizable breasts in her relatively small hands.

—BOING!

She bounced them a little.

"I almost feel violated watching him…"

Ragar didn't respond. He stared at the horizon, where the sun hung just above the edge.

Lena continued to grumble, hands on her chest as her tail thrashed behind her.

Then—Ragar spoke. "You might have a point."

Lena perked up. "Huh?"

"He's shown no progress. It's possible… the boy's stunting the Crimson Thread's influence so that no one catches on. Maybe with something like…"

"Silvervine!!"

Lena leapt up, eyes sparkling.

"He's lacing his food with silvervine, I knew it!"

Ragar narrowed his eyes.

"But he hasn't eaten anything today…"

He stared at the setting sun.

"… Which means…"

He closed his eyes. Then opened them again.

"Lena."

"Whaaat?"

She asked, still wagging her tail like an excited puppy.

"Stall him. Keep him busy until the moon is high."

Lena blinked. "That's oddly specific—"

"Just do it…"

Ragar said, already retreating back into the shadows.

Lena wrinkled her nose like she just smelled burnt rubber.

"Tch. Bitch."

"I heard that." Ragar's voice echoed back.

Lena stiffened. Eyes wide.

Mute.