“Oi, keep yowling, go on. You’re next in line.”
The youth with hair like wildfire seized a tomcat by the scruff, his lips curling as he whistled at the dog barking furiously nearby.
The doctor, deft and unhesitating, took the cat and snipped away its pride, ensuring no more litters would spring from its loins.
Drugged into stupor, the tomcat sprawled across a white sheet, its barbed tongue limp against its chin.
Its glassy stare fixed on the void, and the glint of moisture at its eyes betrayed a silent rage at its lost potency.
Beside it, on the recovery bench, there were various of stray animals—each one robbed of purpose by Xing Chen’s merciless hand.Â
Their faces, dulled by anesthesia, wore the same hollow resignation.
The drugs still held them in their grip.
Like a factory worker on a relentless line, Xing Chen hoisted the dog—a brazen, defiant beast that had dared to challenge him—and flung it to the doctor’s table.
A piercing wail split the air.
Simon, wincing, watched as the dog’s twin orbs were excised, his own body shuddering in visceral sympathy.
“By Afiya’s grace, Xing Chen, you’re a heartless dog.”
Xing Chen’s brows, sharp as blades, arched in defiance.
“I’m a qilin, not a dog. If these beasts could keep their urges in check, would I need to geld them?”
“Ahem.”
A soft cough cut through the banter.
Against the wall of the sterile operating room, Grandma Colleen perched on a plastic chair, her lips quivering into a smile.
“My children, if they still lived, could call you both grandsons. I’ve seen it all. These creatures need fixing, plain and simple.”
Simon shivered, nodding hastily.
“Fair point, fair point.”
This unlikely trio had come together when Xing Chen sought out Simon, restless and itching for something to occupy his days in Wagner Town.
Simon, ever the mischief-maker, cared only for his own amusement and drew a blank on tasks for Xing Chen.
So, he punted the problem to Grandma Colleen.
Colleen, a century-old elf with a spark in her eye, led them on a town-wide hunt for strays.
Keep the ones that charmed you, she said; for the rest, slap up flyers and find them homes.
A tidy solution.
But it was Xing Chen who bore the brunt, saddled with a litter of mewling kittens and pups.
Simon, in a rare act of charity, gifted him a cart brimming with animal formula.
“Say, Grandma,” Simon ventured, “you sure headquarters scrapped the branch plans?”
“Aye.” Colleen’s voice was soft, resigned.
“This town’s too small, too out of the way. The old branch got torn to bits by those thieving brats. Headquarters wants me at the church now. My days are numbered, so I’ll make do.”
Simon fell silent, bowing to her wishes.
The doctor’s hands were a blur of efficiency, and soon every animal was done.
It took a herculean effort for the two men to load the sedated creatures into a rented van.
Colleen, waved off by the lads’ insistence she rest, accepted their kindness and shuffled back to the church.
Alone now, Simon gripped the wheel as they drove.
“You’ve lived eons and never learned to drive?”
Xing Chen’s nose wrinkled as he replied:
“Slipped my mind.”
“Figures. A grand empire guardian like you needs a chauffeur like me, eh?” Simon grinned, then sobered.
“Word is you’re a wanderer, always chasing the horizon. What’s got you lingering in a speck like Wagner?”
Xing Chen’s gaze drifted to the passing streets.
“Someone. Something. Worth staying for, at least for now.”
The house Xing Chen had rented for the animals sat just shy of the animal hospital.
In no time, the van—shaped oddly like a pumpkin—rumbled to a stop at his door.
After hauling the cages inside, Simon fished a bulging sack from, of all places, his trousers.
“For me?” Xing Chen’s brow was quirked.
“Dream on,” Simon snorted, swatting the air.
“It’s for Noi. Heard she collapsed from mana drain a few days back. Got her some recovery potions.”
Xing Chen, undeterred, pried open the sack and peered at a plump, squishy thing inside.
“What’s this?”
“Oi, don’t ruin the surprise!” Simon huffed.
“Tell her to crack it open if she’s in danger. That little guy can also keep her company when she’s bored. Cute as a button.”
Xing Chen nodded, a faint smile tugging his lips. “I’ve seen these. You elves love foisting them on humans. No spare for me?”
“Next time, promise.” Simon’s grin widened.
“I’m off to restock out of town. No clue when I’ll be back. Look after Noi, yeah? People have been vanishing lately. When I return, we’ll catch one of her prayers together.”
Xing Chen’s voice sharpened.
“That noble… you done chasing him?”
“Tried. No luck. Just some sketchy toff poking through his own junk, claiming he lost something. I’ll sort it out after my run.”
“Right. Safe travels.”
Xing Chen watched the van vanish into the distance, then shut the door and turned to the chorus of soft whines and mews within.
***
By Wagner’s seaside, where sea gulls swooped to pilfer fries from the square, a man cloaked in black, his face masked, munched on a greasy handful.
A flock descended, squawking for their share.
“Pesky vermin,” he muttered.
A pulse of chaotic energy rippled outward, and the sea gulls dissolved into ash.
***
“I love her, I truly do, but she spurns my kindness, calls me a wretched deviant.”
“So who is she to you, exactly?”
In the church’s confession booth, the nuns huddled behind the wooden screen, their whispers buzzing like flies.
Chenxi, patience frayed to breaking, snapped the question.
“Her? We haven’t properly met.” The man’s voice was earnest, unhinged.
“I’ll wait until she embraces my devotion before I introduce myself.”
Chenxi’s composure cracked.
What kind of lunatic was this?
Her revulsion bled into her words.
“Your confession is heard. Next, please.”
Three hours they’d sat there, enduring the weekly ritual.
Confessions were a grind, sapping the nuns’ spirits.
These parasites flocked to the church to spew their woes, cloaking their gripes in the guise of penance, all to soothe their egos under Afiya’s banner.
If the coin weren’t so good, they’d never deign to untangle such twisted minds.
Noi sat in the booth’s shadowed corner, silent.
Chenxi was running the show today, guiding the newer nuns.
Tina had lingered briefly before slipping out, claiming she needed to order food.
But Noi’s thoughts were elsewhere, snared by Lyte’s cryptic gestures from days before.
They’d only just met, yet he’d dared—dared what?
The white-haired girl couldn’t unravel it.
His words, murmured so close her earlobe burned, had sent her reeling.
She’d collapsed onto her bed and her mind was went into a blank haze.
When she’d regained consciousness, Lyte was gone.
In the days since, he’d kept a courteous distance, not so much as brushing her sleeve.
As if she were a siren luring him to ruin, and he, a hero bound by duty, shunned her.
Tina and Chenxi had banned her from praying, wary of another mana collapse.
So Noi filled her idle hours honing Michael’s strike spells and Gabriel’s wards.
The booth’s black curtain parted, admitting a nobleman, his hair a tangle, his fine clothes creased and unkempt.
“Wayward soul, what burdens do you bring to confess?” Chenxi’s voice, brightened by routine, greeted him.
“Er… no burdens, not quite.” He faltered.
“It’s… particular.”
“Speak plainly.”
“I paid the red-haired priestess at the entrance. Cleared the place of other guests. I’m here to hire you for a job.”
Confessions often came with tasks—troubles to solve for the church’s fame and a bit of profit.
This man’s urgency hinted at something pressing.
Chenxi stepped out, verified the booth was empty save for them, and conferred with Tina.
With the bishop away, Sharei, the senior priestess, held sway.
“Ghosts?” Tina scoffed.
“Sure it’s not your eyes failing you? Or maybe some beastie rang your doorbell.”
At the nobleman’s insistence, the lesser nuns and novices were dismissed, leaving only Noi, Chenxi, and Tina.
A priestess with coiled green hair lounged against the doorframe, her smile all teeth as she listened to the man’s tale.
“I’m not joking!” he protested.
“Middle of the night, I got up to… relieve myself, and heard odd noises from the study. Went in, and everything was upended. If that’s not haunting, what is?”
Tina doubled over, cackling.
“No wonder you skipped the demon hunters and came here. Guilty conscience, eh?”
Chenxi elbowed her to hush.
Sharei flicked her green locks, her tone languid.
“Ten thousand star coins says we take the job. Who’s going? Solve it, and I’ll toss in a bonus.”
The green-haired priestess who was too lazy to go out , issued her decree.
Tina and Chenxi traded a look.
Normally, they’d settle tough jobs with a game of chance.
But their eyes soon settled on another.
“Noi,” Chenxi said, “this one’s yours.”