Kang Hana, a new researcher at FPL, vigorously shook a feathered object attached to the end of a fishing line—commonly known as a cat toy.
She had no other choice.
After all, people tend to put their whole heart into tasks where results are immediately visible.
Lately, she had been drowning in an overwhelming workload, her dark circles deepening under her eyes.
Even after exhausting herself with endless tasks, all she heard were comments like, “Giselle never made these small mistakes…”—constant comparisons to a recently demoted senior.
And now, before her eyes, a creature estimated to have lived for at least 60,000 years was captivated by something as trivial as a cat toy.
It would have been a lie to say she didn’t feel at least a little triumphant about it.
Strangely enough, though, Kang Hana was reminded more of a cat than of some ancient superorganism.
“They said it appeared in cave paintings 16,000 years ago, so I was expecting some massive, house-sized dragon… But no, this tiny baby is just unfair!”
Of course, she had misunderstood things.
IF-017, dubbed the “dragon,” had always looked like this—small, pale, and almost like a delicate young girl.
The modern image of a legendary dragon was actually fabricated by the Foundation, one of FPL’s most powerful adversaries.
That was what Kang Hana had been told.
By that logic, most modern people knew even less of the truth than their ancient ancestors.
As a member of FPL, Kang Hana was part of the rare 0.01% who weren’t ignorant.
She felt a mix of pride and confusion.
After all, she had only brought the cat toy on a whim, half as a joke, thinking, “Wouldn’t this wake it up?”
It didn’t work quite as expected, but oddly enough, it was surprisingly effective.
“Gyaaak.”
“…Hmm. What does ‘gyaaak’ mean?”
It almost sounded like the creature was annoyed…
But Kang Hana dismissed the thought.
There was no way a being could look that cute while supposedly feeling irritated.
“IF-017 has coexisted with humans throughout history.”
A creature that had been around since the dawn of civilization, yet had no records of harming humans.
If it were truly the type to take offense over something as trivial as a cat toy, her senior—who had even dared to poke its cheeks—wouldn’t be alive today.
Even so, Kang Hana let out a quiet chuckle.
No matter how she thought about it, she just couldn’t imagine IF-017 brutally tearing someone apart.
She shook the cat toy again.
As IF-017 drowsily flailed its arms in a dreamlike trance, she couldn’t help but giggle.
“Ah, so cute.”
As she basked in this healing moment, a sudden thought struck her.
Hadn’t she been warned before?
If an anomaly seems harmless, that’s when it’s the most dangerous?
She recalled her training before being assigned as a researcher.
“What was it again? If an anomaly inexplicably feels harmless and you start wanting to become ‘one’ with it—escape immediately!”
It was undeniably cute, but she didn’t exactly feel like merging into one being with it.
So, it was probably fine.
Not that it helped much.
Before entering the containment room, she had been given all sorts of precautions—mental contamination barriers, interview protocols—but none of it mattered.
Kang Hana simply laughed carefreely and continued shaking the cat toy.
Each time her eyes met IF-017’s gaze as it followed the toy, the corners of her lips curled higher and higher.
“Uhuhuhuhuh…”
Job satisfaction: maximum!
But she couldn’t just keep playing forever.
Her mission wasn’t to have fun with IF-017.
In truth, this was no different from slacking off.
Reluctantly, she pouted and tucked the cat toy away.
“…”
“Purrrr~”
It wasn’t her imagination—IF-017’s expression visibly relaxed after seeing the toy put away.
Of course, Kang Hana had no idea.
She recalled her orders from higher-ups.
“According to historical records, IF-017 has consistently been depicted as an intelligent being.
But we need to verify which parts of the records are real and which are distortions.
More importantly, we need to determine its exact level of intelligence.”
The higher-ups seemed to believe most of the records were exaggerated.
The ancient documents weren’t entirely reliable, and with IF-017’s current metabolic state, there was no way it could have been as active as the records described.
But Kang Hana thought differently.
Even though IF-017 was just lying there, blankly staring at the ceiling…
Even though its eyes looked completely vacant…
She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was actually paying attention.
“…Or maybe not?”
Oh well, whatever.
After staring at IF-017 for a moment, Kang Hana snapped out of it when she saw it nodding off again.
She hurriedly rummaged through her box.
She had countless experiments to conduct and reports to file.
She hadn’t brought all this equipment for nothing.
First, she pulled out a mirror.
Unless IF-017 had some sort of visual anomaly, there were typically two standard reactions to a mirror test—either it would fail to recognize its reflection and react aggressively, or it would recognize itself.
IF-017 simply glanced at the mirror once before turning its head… and staring straight at Kang Hana instead.
“…Is there something on my face?”
Baffled, she ended up checking her own reflection in the mirror she had brought for the experiment.
Kang Hana didn’t let it get to her.
“Of course, expecting a reaction right away was too much to ask.”
She had already realized during the hostility test with Senior Giselle that IF-017 was no ordinary opponent.
But for this experiment, she had thoroughly prepared by consulting higher-ups, gathering various methods that had successfully elicited reactions from other difficult anomalies.
“There’s no way it can just ignore everything.”
And so, she continued the experiment.
The results were shocking.
Despite her confidence, IF-017 remained completely unresponsive from start to finish—just like the mirror test.
It wasn’t just ignoring non-anomalous methods; even the techniques that leveraged anomalies had no effect.
“I even used IF-190-1 as my trump card!”
To Kang Hana, who had trusted the higher-ups’ words without question, this was a devastating revelation.
“Now what? What else can I even do…?”
For a researcher who had been in the job for less than six months, IF-017 was an exceptionally challenging anomaly—it was simply too undefined.
Even the head of the research facility had given up on studying it.
Normally, more experienced researchers should have been handling this case instead of her.
But IF-017’s main body was so notoriously inactive—aside from its impressive ability to sleep—that most senior researchers had left the facility to focus entirely on studying IF-017-1.
And now, before her eyes, IF-017 was laying its head back down, its eyes slowly closing again.
“Ah—ahhh!! No, don’t fall asleep yet…!!”
Desperation kicked in.
There was only one last resort.
The only thing that had ever elicited even the slightest reaction from IF-017—
The cat toy.
“Come on, be good… Can’t you just cooperate a little? Hm?”
Kang Hana shook the toy with all the desperation of someone begging the gods for a miracle.
She wasn’t even religious, but at that moment, she prayed to every deity she could think of.
“Please, please, please…! Just don’t fall asleep again…! God, Buddha, Allah—whoever’s listening, please…!”
And miraculously, her prayers were answered.
IF-017, who had been idly watching her, suddenly rolled onto its side and propped itself up.
“Gyaooo…”
Its voice started strong but quickly lost energy, trailing off weakly.
The way it stared at her—like an exhausted parent humoring a child who wouldn’t stop demanding attention—rendered Kang Hana speechless.
“No, no way. I must be imagining things. There’s no way I just thought that about something so small…”
And then—
Pop.
Tiny horns. Small wings. A chubby little tail.
All suddenly sprouted from IF-017’s body.
“Huh.”
Was this some kind of reward for her persistence?
If so, it was far beyond anything she could have expected.
Her jaw dropped.
“Gyao.”
Despite its body remaining completely still, the newly grown tail swayed gently.
“Uh, oh. Ohhh….”
And then, to her utter disbelief, IF-017 smiled at her.
A devastatingly cute, unbearably mischievous smile.
It was—without a doubt—seduction.
Kang Hana stood no chance.
“Hehehe… Come here, you…!”