Author: Momo Chan

“Hey, ghost crew, what is up? It’s your girl, Linda, coming at you live.” “Tonight, we’re exploring the infamous haunted house from the ‘Body in the Wall’ murder case that shocked the nation three years ago.” In the dead of night, Linda aimed her camera at the dilapidated old house. Under the pale, anemic moonlight, the yard was a sea of dead leaves, rustling and whispering with every breath of wind, lending the crumbling brick structure an air of profound menace. Instantly, the live chat lit up with two names, spammed over and over again: “Selene” and “The Sinner.” The comments section became a torrent of outrage. “No fucking way. Is this about that psycho, Selene?” “Ugh, if I’d known, I would’ve burned some sage to cleanse this bad juju.” “For real.” “Everyone in Riverbend City knows Selene was the daughter of the richest man in town. Why would she ever live in a shithole like this? Who are you trying to fool?” “Linda, don’t be like those other clout-chasers, blinded by the views.” “Listen to us, sweetie. Let’s not do this.” “The last thing we need is for your stream to make that bitch famous again. She’d probably love that.” Watching the scroll of angry text, Linda felt a flicker of doubt. Had her source been wrong? But then she saw the viewer count tick past one hundred thousand and climbing. Taking a deep breath, she addressed her audience with renewed professionalism. “Don’t worry, everyone. As a paranormal investigator, my job is to be objective. I don’t take sides.” “And I would never, ever let a monster who would frame her own sister just for a taste of fame get a second chance in the spotlight.” She held up a small, intricate sword woven from antique coins, a faint smile on her face. “And if her spirit is truly here,” she said, her voice dropping, “I will be the one to pass judgment. I’ll send that evil soul straight to hell myself.” Her declaration flipped the mood of the chat instantly. Cheers and praise flooded the screen. With that, she stepped onto the carpet of dried petals and pushed open the groaning, time-worn wooden door. The next second, her eyes went wide. She froze on the threshold. “What the—!” In a brightly lit villa miles away, Adrian Thorne leaned over a balcony railing, his face a mask of irritation as he chain-smoked. “Selene,” he muttered. “It’s always Selene.” “She’s been dead for three years, how is she still causing so much trouble?!” He ground out the cigarette with his heel and spoke coldly into his phone. “Celeste cannot find out about this. Do you understand? I don’t want the name ‘Selene’ to even touch Celeste’s ears.” But it was too late. Behind him, Celeste, who had been walking toward him, stopped dead. A sad, wan smile touched her pale lips. “It’s okay, Adrian. I heard.” “I’m sure… I’m sure my sister didn’t mean to do all those things back then.” Her voice was a fragile whisper. “Besides… I forgave her a long time ago.” At that moment, my father, watching from the living room, slammed his glass down. The sound of his knuckles cracking echoed in the tense silence. “Restless even in death.” He ordered a servant to cast the livestream onto the massive television screen. His eyes, bloodshot with rage, bored into the image. “Let’s see what kind of trouble a dead bitch can stir up after three years!” Just as he spoke, Linda’s shocked voice filled the room. “What… what is this…?” The camera panned across a wall crawling with green moss. Hidden within the grime were countless dark, reddish-brown stains—streaks of old blood. The entire live chat, which had been a waterfall of text, fell silent. Then, as Linda moved closer, it exploded. “HOLY SHIT…” “That’s fucking disgusting.” “I always heard Celeste was ruthless in her climb to fame, but I never imagined she had zero bottom line.” “Is that all pig’s blood?” “Didn’t she lie about having depression back in the day?” “Probably planned this whole stunt to make a comeback. Too bad she died before she could pull it off.” “LOL, I wonder which unsung hero took out the trash for us.” “Serves her right! Good riddance!” The irony was laughable. Hiding behind these vicious words was a mob of strangers who had never met me. They waved their banners of justice while pelting my memory with the most toxic filth imaginable, feasting on my demise like vultures. The sight made even Linda frown. Deciding to ignore the chat, she pulled a spirit compass from her bag and began her investigation. But in the next instant, a sudden gust of wind burst through a broken window, making the tattered curtains dance violently. It whipped the stained sheet off the bed, a final, mournful cry from the depths of the macabre carnival. And there, lying exposed, was a yellowed diary. The wind flipped its pages, revealing lines of elegant, handwritten script. It caught Linda’s eye. “June 23, 2018. Today, I saw him again. The boy who occupied my entire youth. Adrian Thorne…” He was just as I remembered, so beautiful that even the moonlight seemed to favor him, pouring over his shoulders like a silver halo. One look, and my world stopped. My eyes were glued to him. But this time, something was different. This time, he looked back at me. It was the graduation gala. My roommate, Jessica, had gotten food poisoning the night before. As her best friend, I had to take her place on stage, next to him. When the stage lights flared to life, my nerves were a wreck. My hands trembled uncontrollably. But then Adrian’s hand gently covered mine, stilling the tremor. He smiled and whispered, “Don’t be afraid.” “As long as I’m here, you won’t mess this up.” As his clear, strong voice filled the auditorium, my own breathing evened out, and I sang my part, my voice weaving a melody around his. That night, bathed in his glow, even I became a star on that stage. And he… he finally noticed me.” Listening to Linda read my words aloud, Adrian’s expression flickered. It was a look of nostalgia, mingled with a deep, unspoken regret. He was right. Back then, I hadn’t done those terrible things. I hadn’t been branded a sinner. And it was the first time that he, the popular musician, had felt his heart stir for me, the quiet girl he barely knew. In my eyes, filled with such pure, unadulterated passion, he had seen a reflection of himself—someone who loved the stage with their entire soul. In that moment, a complex, unspoken emotion had bloomed in his heart. Watching him, Celeste’s face changed. She lowered her head, a bitter twist to her pale lips. Her voice was a carefully controlled murmur of pain and forbearance. “Adrian… I’m so sorry…” “If it wasn’t for me… you and my sister would have never…” “It’s all my fault.” “I’m the one who killed her.” The glint of tears in Celeste’s eyes pulled Adrian back from his reverie. The word “sister” was a splash of cold water. His face hardened, but his voice was gentle as he comforted her. “Celeste, don’t think like that.” “If it weren’t for Selene, would you have lost your dream? She brought this on herself.” As he spoke, the anger in his eyes became almost impossible to hide. He turned away from Celeste quickly. “She doesn’t deserve your tears. And she doesn’t deserve to be called your sister.” My parents chose this moment to speak, their voices dripping with sympathy for Celeste. “Celeste, darling, we know that monster’s death was a huge blow to you. But you have to move on.” “It’s time you and Adrian started a family.” Then, their eyes fixed on the live stream, their jaws clenched. “As for that ungrateful viper we raised,” my father seethed, “restless even in death.” “Good,” my mother added. “I hear this streamer has some real power. If she can make Selene’s soul shatter into a million pieces, it’ll be our family’s public service.” As the three of them sat together, a perfect picture of a loving family, Linda turned the diary to the second page. But in the corner of the dilapidated room, a blood-red figure flickered into view in the reflection of a cracked, dirty mirror. From a mouth that had no tongue, a muffled, desperate whimper escaped: “Help… me.”

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Four years ago, my mother and father went to the Atacama Desert. My mother, Helen, returned from the expedition not long after, but my father, David, refused to give up. He vanished into the desert, and for four years, we heard nothing. Then, just last week, the official word came from the authorities. My father, missing for four years, was confirmed dead. All that was left of him was a tattered backpack and a diary. The canvas of the pack was stained with blood and matted with hair. A DNA test confirmed our worst fears. It was his. My mother and I held a funeral with an empty casket, burying only the backpack and the diary in a memorial grave in our backyard. But on the third night after the funeral… my dead father came home. He stood there smiling a chilling smile, caked in dirt and dust, without a trace of human warmth, as if he’d just clawed his way out of the earth. “Lily,” he said, his voice a dry rasp. “Did you miss your daddy?” … A shiver traced its way down my spine. I squeezed a single word from my throat. “Yes…” His smile widened. He reached out with a rough, calloused hand and pinched my cheek. The coldness of his touch was alarming, sinking deep into my bones. It wasn’t the temperature of a living person. I was terrified. My father was dead. His last known possessions were buried in the empty grave behind the house. So who—or what—was this thing standing in front of me? In a panic, I called for my mother. She was showering upstairs and yelled down, asking what was wrong. I hesitated, then told her everything in a rush. “Mom, Dad’s home!” “What?!” A minute later, she ran down the stairs, still damp, her robe hastily tied. She looked ready to scold me for talking nonsense, but then she saw him. Standing in our living room. My father smiled his weary, weathered smile and pulled a few rocks from his pocket. “Helen, I’m back. I know it’s been hard on you, running the house and taking care of Lily all these years.” “I brought you these stones from the Atacama. A souvenir.” He tried to press the stones into my mother’s hand, but she flinched away. They fell to the floor with a heavy, dull thud. Mom stared at the rocks on the floor, her expression a mask of horror. Her lips pressed into a thin, white line. I couldn’t tell if she was more afraid of my father, or of the stones themselves. But Dad just kept smiling. It seemed to be the only expression he had left. His idea of romance—bringing home rocks from his adventures—was just as tone-deaf as ever. Nothing had changed. My father was an adventurer at heart. Before they were married, both he and Mom were part of an amateur exploration club. After they married, Dad quit the official club but was still constantly away, forming small expedition teams with other enthusiasts. When I was born, he stayed home a little more, but you couldn’t chain down his free spirit. He went on his trips all the same. In my memory, the only one who was ever trapped was my mother. When I was little and I cried, she would cry with me. I remember her cycles of breakdown and recovery, a long, slow grind until I was old enough for her to go back to her job as a nurse. My father never understood her sacrifices. He just complained that she had become boring. Every place he conquered, he brought back a rock for her. Her vanity wasn’t filled with jewelry or makeup, but with a collection of stones from all over the country. And now, there was one more. Forget my mother; even I thought it was cruel. I wanted to throw it as far as I could. But Dad just smiled that chilling smile and asked, “What’s wrong, Helen? Don’t you like it?” “I love it,” Mom replied, her voice cold as ice. She told him to go upstairs, take a shower, and get some sleep. He agreed without argument, still smiling as he went upstairs. The moment we heard the shower start, Mom grabbed my arm and dragged me into a corner, her grip like a vice! “Lily! Listen to me very carefully! Remember every word!” her voice was a panicked whisper. “That man is not your father! Your father is dead in the Atacama!” “No matter what he says, no matter what he does, do not believe him! He is not your father!” A father returned from the dead should have been a miracle. For us, it was a curse. I was used to it being just Mom and me. Having this… father… in the house made my skin crawl. The next morning, Mom left early. She sent me a text saying she had to take care of something important and might be gone for a few days. She transferred a sum of money into my account and told me to take care of myself. Her last message was a stark reminder. “Don’t trust him, Lily. He is NOT your father!” My heart leaped into my throat. I had barely finished reading the text when I sensed a shadow behind me. I spun around to see my father’s face, his lips stretched into that unnatural smile. “Good morning, Lily. Texting your mom? Where is she? I didn’t see her this morning.” “She went to work,” I said quickly. “She has a business trip. She’ll be back in a few days.” Dad’s smile didn’t falter. He pushed his glasses up his nose, his eyes glinting as he easily dismantled my lie. “Your mother is just a nurse. She has business trips?” “Of course,” I improvised, my mind racing. “She’s up for the Head Nurse position. There’s a provincial competition. She’s been working so hard these past four years, Dad. Juggling her job and taking care of me.” I turned the question back on him. “What about you, Dad? Where have you been for four years? Why didn’t you call, not even once?” He paused. For a second, the look behind his glasses turned sharp and cold. But the smile remained plastered on his face. He began to tell me about his time in the desert, the dangers he faced, the vast, empty beauty he witnessed. He spoke in great detail, as if he really had been there for four years, and he had all of Dad’s memories of Mom and me. As he spoke, my eyes kept darting to the empty grave in the yard. I thought of the diary. It had to contain the real story of what happened to him in the Atacama. Mom had forbidden me from reading it when the police returned it, saying it would be too traumatic, that I’d never recover from the loss. She buried it to protect me. But what if I dug it up now? Could it give me a clue? If I compared its contents to what this man was telling me, maybe the truth would come out. I tucked the idea away and continued to make noncommittal conversation with him. At noon, he offered to cook lunch. The day wasn’t particularly warm, but he cranked the air conditioning, setting it to a very low temperature, letting the cold air blast directly onto him. Amidst the recycled air, I caught a faint, strange, foul odor. But I didn’t dare say anything. I just pretended not to notice and ate the meal he prepared. It tasted just as bad as I remembered his cooking. Nothing unusual there. After lunch, he said he was tired and went to his room to rest. He took another shower first, then went into his room and turned on the air conditioning, again setting it very low. As I walked past his door, a chilly draft seeped out from under it. The room inside was pitch black; he had drawn all the curtains. He had developed a sudden love for the dark. I noted all of this but kept silent, retreating to my own room. Once I was sure he was asleep, I grabbed a shovel and crept out to the backyard. I started digging. The memorial grave wasn’t deep. It only took me about fifteen minutes. I pulled out the backpack, retrieved the diary, and stuffed it inside my shirt. I quickly filled the hole back in and ran back to my room before he could wake up. I locked my door and windows, my heart pounding with anticipation as I opened the diary. It was definitely my father’s handwriting. The first twenty or so entries chronicled his journey into the Atacama. He wrote that he had entered the desert without issue and had met another expedition team, joining them on their journey. They decided to change their route to visit the ruins of Humberstone, a 19th-century ghost town in an undeveloped sector of the desert. Then, for a long time, the diary was blank. Pages and pages of empty paper. When the writing resumed, it was a single, terrifying sentence, written in what looked like blood. “Lily! If you’re reading this, run! Your mother is not your mother anymore…” “Run, do you understand?!” The chilling, blood-red words burned themselves into my mind. I gasped, and the diary fell from my trembling hands. As it hit the floor, a photograph slipped out. The photo was taken against a backdrop of a dusty, twilight-orange desert landscape. In the distance were the crumbling ruins of the Humberstone ghost town. And half-buried in the sand was the body of a woman. Her face had been gnawed away by scavengers, making her unrecognizable, but I knew the clothes she was wearing. And the bracelet on her wrist… I recognized it instantly. It was a bracelet I had made for my mother four years ago on a trip with my friends, with a small, laser-engraved message of love hidden on the clasp. But how did that bracelet end up in the Atacama? And who was this dead woman? My mind was a tangled mess of questions, my nerves stretched to their absolute limit. A knock on my door jolted me back to reality. “Lily? Are you sleeping? Why is the door locked?” It was my father. He jiggled the handle, his tone urgent, a stark contrast to his earlier gentleness. “Lily, open the door!” “Lily, what are you doing in there? Why are you locking the door in your own home? Hiding from your own father?” His voice grew more agitated, more accusatory. “What are you really doing? Do you have a boy in there? Is that it? You think you can sneak him in while I’m asleep? You have no respect for me at all!” He was shouting now, twisting the handle frantically, kicking at the door. I was frozen with fear. I tried calling my mother, but her phone went straight to a “not reachable” message. The next second, the door burst open, splintering from the frame! I had managed to hide the diary just in time. I watched, terrified, as my father stormed in, his face a mask of rage. He scanned my room, his eyes wild. “Where is he? Where is he!” “Lily, where did you hide that little bastard?!” I couldn’t even breathe. I could only cry silently. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dad. There’s no one here. I was just taking a nap.” “You need to lock the door for a nap?” he sneered. His eyes were cold as stone. “Don’t you ever lock this door again. Do you hear me?!” I curled into a ball on my bed and nodded. Instantly, his expression changed. He smiled and reached out to pat my head. “Good girl. That’s my good Lily.” As he touched my head, I smelled it again. That foul, rotting odor. My father was not my father. And whether my mother was still my mother… I no longer knew. Everything had become a terrifying mystery.

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A thousand years ago, A thousand years ago, the Kirin—scaled guardians with antlers that channeled celestial magic—sacrificed countless of their most powerful mages to help the Archon imprison the Demon Lord in the Dark Abyss. A thousand years later, the Demon Princess idly remarked, “I hear the brain of a Kirin can cure my migraines.” And in a single night, my people were slaughtered to the last. I stared at the ruins of my home for a long time. “Mother,” I whispered to the ashes, “you always told me the world was at peace, that the Archon was benevolent. You said my own heaven-defying power was a curse upon this realm and you suppressed it for my own good. Well, what about now? Do you still believe that?” 1 The day before my clan was butchered, my little brother, still too young to take his human form, chirped and chattered, begging me to go to the mortal plane and buy him a candy apple. He was getting on my nerves. I was about to kick him away when my mother stopped me with a gentle smile. “Hera,” she said, “that’s your brother.” “He is the one person in all the realms who is closest to you. You can’t treat him like some wild beast.” Closest to me? Born with dulled senses, I didn’t understand the meaning of her words. But I always listened to my mother. I lowered my clawed paw and promised to bring him his candy apple the next day. He was so happy he rolled around on the ground in a fit of glee. I watched him with disgust, muttering, “So noisy.” But the next morning, as soon as the sun rose, I rode the clouds down the mountain to buy his treat. 2 And now, here I stood at the gates of my home, candy apple in hand, completely lost. The ground was littered with the corpses of my kin. My brother, who had looked up at me with a smiling face just that morning, now lay in pieces on the ground, his head separated from his body. His skull was cracked open, his brain spilled across the dirt. With trembling paws, I pried open his tightly clenched fist. Inside was the pearl of night I had casually tossed to him on his hundredth birthday. I stared at the pearl for a long time before speaking. “You silly thing. You’re dead. Why were you still holding this?” “But… the pearl is warped. It must have hurt a lot, didn’t it?” I sat there, from sunrise until the dead of night. 3 When Lord Caelus, the Celestial of Mercy, arrived, he was shocked to see me. Then he shook his head. “Thank the heavens, a survivor. The Kirin are not truly extinct.” I looked at him blankly. “What now?” It took him a moment to understand my question. He sighed. “Rest assured, I will protect you. This time, Lord Azureus went too far. To slaughter your entire race for a whim of the Demon Princess… it was reckless.” “I have already reprimanded him,” he continued. “He won’t trouble you again.” I couldn’t quite follow. “But… Mother told me that murder is a debt paid with life,” I said, my voice flat. “Why did you only reprimand him?” Lord Caelus’s compassionate expression cracked. A flicker of anger crossed his face. “Insolence! Do you have any idea who you speak of?” “He is the Sovereign of this world! The one who defeated the demons, pacified the monsters, and brought a thousand years of peace to all the realms! How dare you entertain the thought of deicide?” A crushing pressure descended upon me, squeezing the air from my lungs. I opened my mouth to speak, but only a mouthful of blood came out. I gritted my teeth and forced the words out. “You’re wrong.” “My mother told me. This peace was never his achievement alone. Nine-tenths of the Kirin’s greatest mages fell in that war. The Dragon Lords have but a few scions left. That is the price that was paid for this ‘glorious peace.’ It was not his alone.” With every word I spoke, the pressure intensified. Just as I felt my bones turning to dust, my spirit about to be extinguished from the world, the very heavens began to tremble. I felt them—countless of my kind, from every corner of the world, their spirits rushing to my side. “Lord Caelus, show mercy!” “Lord Caelus, show mercy!” “Lord Caelus, show mercy!” The chorus grew louder and louder. I could hear the roar of dragons, the cry of phoenixes, the howl of tigers… A symphony of spectral beasts forming a shield around me. And then, I fell into darkness. 4 When I woke, I was in the Celestial Palace. Lord Azureus, the Archon, looked down at me as if I were an ant. “Luria’s headaches are much improved,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “Your race has proven its use. Your existence was not entirely in vain.” “I will issue a decree. You will be named a Saintess. Do not cause any more trouble.” Ignoring the dull, grinding pain deep in my bones, I stared back at him defiantly. “My mother told me that murder is a debt paid with life. That is the great law of the mortal world.” “I don’t want to be a Saintess. I only ask that the Archon respects the great law.” Azureus narrowed his eyes, studying me for a long moment before he laughed. “Do you know who Luria is?” “If we are to respect the great law, then healing Luria should be the single most important matter in this world. Luria was an ancient goddess. A thousand years ago, she willingly sacrificed herself to the heavens, her own flesh and blood mending this broken realm. If we speak of debts, every living creature in this world owes her.” When he spoke of Luria, his eyes shone with a brilliant light. Just like Father’s did when he spoke of Mother. I lowered my head, fell silent, and tried to understand. Was he right? I was never very smart. I thought about it for a long time, but I couldn’t figure it out. If only Mother were here. She would know if he was right. Azureus seemed to have lost interest in talking to me. He waved a hand, dismissing me. But I didn’t move. I stubbornly believed that the deaths of my parents, my brother, my aunts and uncles… it couldn’t just be forgotten. Azureus grew annoyed. “What more do you want?” I thought for a moment, then held to my conviction. “A life for a life.” The words had barely left my lips when a bolt of raw magic slammed into me, throwing me to the ground. I coughed up another pool of blood. Azureus’s voice dripped with scorn. “Ant. Only the strong have the right to speak their desires. Only the strong hold the power of life and death. The truth… has always been a tool for the powerful.” I clutched my chest and staggered to my feet, nodding blankly. So, I have to be stronger than him to kill him. As long as I am stronger, I can kill him. He should have just said so from the start. It would have saved me so much time. A pity Mother never taught me that might makes right. She only ever spoke of reason and compassion. 5 As I stumbled out of the grand hall, I bumped into a woman in a green dress, her face beaming with joy. When she saw me, her eyes lit up. She threw herself at Azureus. “Azureus! There’s another Kirin!” “Quick, cut out her brain for me!” she chirped. “It has to be fresh! The last one, the little one with the fire-cloud mark on its head, I ate it while it was still alive. The effect was marvelous!” Hearing this, I couldn’t stop myself. I turned and stared at her. Among all the Kirin, only my brother had a fire-cloud mark on his head. Azureus stroked her hair dotingly. “This is the last Kirin in the world. We can’t kill her. Otherwise, we’ll have nothing left to keep the other beasts in line.” Luria pouted. “It’s just one animal. What does it matter?” I didn’t listen to any more. I limped out of the Celestial Realm. Mother, you used to tell me the Archon loved all his creations. But why… why does it feel so different from what you said? 6 When I returned to the mortal plane, Lord Dragon and Lady Phoenix were waiting for me at my ruined home. Seeing me covered in wounds, they trembled with rage. But their anger quickly gave way to a weary sigh. Lady Phoenix stroked my head. “Hera, don’t provoke them anymore. Just live. Please.” I looked at her, confused. “Why? Shouldn’t a murderer pay with their life?” “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Living is what’s most important. Hera, you are the last of the Kirin bloodline. Nothing is more important than your survival. Your mother… she probably wouldn’t want you to seek revenge. She would only want you to live.” I didn’t speak again. I found a shovel and started digging a hole by the gate. My parents and my silly little brother… they deserved a proper burial. I held my brother’s head in my paws. I suddenly remembered Luria saying she had eaten his brain while he was still alive. It must have hurt. A lot. No wonder the pearl was warped. Just that morning, he had been so full of life. Now, he was as cold as ice. No one would ever chirp “sister” at me again. It was so quiet. Yes, it was quiet, but… it was too quiet. A gust of wind blew, stinging my eyes. They felt dry. Why were they watering? Mother said my senses were dull. It must be the wind. It must be… 7 After burying my family, I leaned against the gravestone. I started talking, my words a rambling whisper. “Mother, you once told me the world was at peace, that the Archon was benevolent.” “What about now? Do you still think so?” “Mother, I still believe that a murderer should pay with their life.” “Mother, I want to go to the Great Eastern Wilds. I want to take back the other half of my power.” “Mother, I don’t want to listen to you anymore.” “Mother, you can’t blame me for this…” “Mother… I just miss you a little. And I miss my brother.” “Mother…”

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1 For five years, my husband, the billionaire Joshua Archer, treated me like a goddess. He’d kneel to paint my toenails, wept as he offered me his own kidney after a car crash—he cherished me, his queen. But as his mistress, a woman I didn’t recognize, had me bound like an animal and kicked me across the manicured lawn of a country club, he didn’t see me. Instead, he stood beside her, clapping his hands in delight. “Go on, darling, give it a good swing! Using a pregnant woman as a golf ball… imagine the follow-through on that! It must be exhilarating!” I screamed, a raw, ragged sound of agony, crying out for my husband, for my mother. But my mother, who was also there, simply wrinkled her nose in disgust and shoved a silk handkerchief from her purse into my mouth, silencing me. And my husband? He snatched the golf club from the other woman’s hands and swung it, hard, into my swollen belly. As I lay dying on the grass, the mistress ripped off her mask. “Sister,” she purred, “how do you like your birthday gift?” Cold sweat mingled with bright red blood, dripping onto the pristine green. I forced my eyes open, staring, just staring, at the man before me. An hour ago, he had washed the scent of another woman from his skin and knelt by our bed, whispering, “Thank you for your love, my queen,” his eyes glazed with sated desire. Now, he watched with cold amusement as his mistress tortured me. The nylon ropes had already chafed my wrists and ankles raw. The slender metal of the golf club struck my body again and again, each blow leaving a bloody welt, until I felt like my bones were being pulled from their sockets. Every cell in my body screamed in pain. “That poor woman must’ve crossed the wrong people,” a voice murmured from the clubhouse patio. “Mrs. Archer seems to be in a foul mood today. Looks like it’ll be two for the price of one…” “Anyone who gets into this club is someone important. Who’s the man who brought her here?” The whispers of the onlookers were laced with a cold detachment, a desire not to get involved. But none of them knew. The man who had just swung at me with the most vicious force, the man who was treating my body like a game… He was my husband. Today was my birthday. Joshua had cleared his entire schedule to be with me. Then a call came through—a major client had arrived, and he had to go. He’d spent half an hour kissing me, apologizing, and whispering sweet promises before he left. When I found his phone on the nightstand, I didn’t bother calling his assistant. I just grabbed it and drove to the club myself. The moment I stepped inside, a woman in a mask, her face vaguely familiar, intercepted me. Before I could process what was happening, her men seized me. I fought back, screaming that I was Mrs. Archer, Joshua Archer’s wife. Her eyes glinted with a cruel light as she ordered her men to bind me into a ball and roll me onto the putting green. Her voice was a low, mocking laugh. “What a coincidence. I’m Mrs. Archer, too. And since I’m standing right here, what does that make you? A liar?” The women behind her sneered. “Everyone knows Joshua Archer worships his wife. I swear, every woman in this city wants to be the next Mrs. Archer. This one clearly doesn’t have what it takes, but she’s certainly got the delusion down.” The masked woman used the toe of her designer shoe to stop my spinning body. Her smile was pure venom. “Let’s make a little wager. If Joshua recognizes you, I’ll let you go. If he doesn’t… you’re all mine.” I was certain. The moment he saw me, he would know. But that certainty evaporated into thin air when I saw him walk onto the green and press a tender kiss to her forehead. “Darling,” she said, her voice cloying sweet, “this woman’s belly is so big and round. It’s the perfect golf ball. Let me practice my swing.” “Of course, my love. Whatever Mrs. Archer wants, Mrs. Archer gets.” He tweaked her nose with a fondness I knew so well. It felt like a nightmare. He hadn’t recognized me. He hadn’t even truly looked at me. His world was completely filled by her. If she was Mrs. Archer, then what was I? What were our years of whispered secrets and shared dreams? What was the child growing inside me? My chest felt like it would explode. An icy dread, sharp as needles, crept up from the soles of my feet. I swallowed the blood pooling in my throat and, clinging to one last, desperate shred of hope, I forced out a single word. “Jo…shua!” He glanced over. For a heart-stopping second, I thought he saw me. But then he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “Is this woman insane? Calling any man she sees ‘honey’? The desperation is pathetic.” He gestured to the woman beside him. “See this? The only woman in the world who gets to call me her husband is her. What the hell are you? You’re not worthy.” A vicious kick followed his words, landing squarely on my stomach. The world exploded in a starburst of white-hot pain, and a wave of cold sweat drenched my body. 2 I gasped for air, staring at him in utter disbelief. Just last night, he had rested his head on my pregnant belly, his laughter warm against my skin. “My love,” he’d whispered, “whether it’s a boy or a girl, you and our child are the center of my universe…” Just this morning, he’d kissed me until I was breathless, making me say his name a hundred times before he’d let me out of bed. But now, holding another woman’s hand, he was sneering that I wasn’t worthy. Of course. The treasure, the goddess, the center of his universe—it was all fake. The only things that were real were the lies. And the affair. The golf club in his hand came down on me again and again. My stomach slammed against the hard ground, and a gush of amniotic fluid and blood soaked the grass beneath me. I was no longer a person; I was just a human ball, rolling back and forth until I was completely covered in my own blood. Through a hazy, red-tinged fog, I saw my mother approaching, holding a coat, speaking softly to the other woman. A desperate need for rescue drowned out all reason. I choked out a cry. “Mom… help me! Mom!” The masked woman didn’t stop me. A strange, knowing smile played on her lips. My mother glanced at me, clutching her nose as if offended by the smell. “My eldest daughter, Seraphina, is resting comfortably at home,” she said, her voice cold. “And my youngest is right here beside me. You are neither. Stop your disgusting squawking, you filthy sow… it’s utterly deafening.” A bolt of lightning shot through my head, feeling as if my brain had just imploded. The next second, a scented handkerchief was brutally shoved into my mouth, choking off my cries, leaving me to make only muffled, guttural sounds. My heart seized. An immense, crushing wave of grief and pain threatened to shatter me completely. Just a few days ago, when I’d had a scare with some abdominal pain, she had sat by my bedside for twenty-four hours straight, sleepless. She’d been frantic, babbling incoherently as she prayed to every saint in the book, bargaining with God for my health and the baby’s. She’d even gone to a shrine and knelt until her forehead was bruised, all for us. The scab on her forehead hadn’t even fully healed. How could she… how could she not recognize me? I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t. Tears streamed down my face. I choked back a sob, my throat raw, and screamed against the gag, a silent, desperate plea. Mom! Look at me! Please, just look closer! It’s me, Elara! Your daughter, the one you raised for over twenty years! But she didn’t give me a second glance. She was the one who had silenced my pleas for help. And now she was standing there, laughing and talking intimately with my executioner. The air was thick with the jeering laughter of the onlookers. A tearing, violent pain ripped through my lower abdomen, a heavy, pulling agony. My mind went blank, and through the haze, I thought I could hear the sound of a baby’s heart-wrenching cries from within me. My baby. I have to save my baby. With the last of my strength, I fixed my cloudy eyes on the man standing nearby. I forced his name through my bruised lips. “Jo… sh… ua!” He paused, turning to look at me. His voice was as soft as a lover’s whisper, but the words were the cruelest I had ever heard. “Get rid of this sow. The way she looks at me… it’s disgusting. She’s actually trying to seduce me.” Just before he left the house, he’d whispered in my ear, “My love, do you know why I love you so much? I can’t stand a single second without you. I miss you already.” He didn’t miss me. He wanted me dead. The last flicker of hope inside me trembled and died. Just as my world dissolved into gray ash, the woman leaned in close and ripped off her mask. “Sister,” she whispered, “how do you like your birthday gift?” I was dragged away like a sack of garbage and dumped outside the club gates. A kind passerby saw my state—a pregnant woman, beaten and bloody—and rushed me to the hospital. He pulled the handkerchief from my mouth. “Miss! Who did this to you? Where’s your family? Your husband?” My lips trembled. My mouth was filled with blood. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t tell him. The man who beat me was the husband who swore he loved me more than life itself. The people who orchestrated my demise were the family I had lived with for over twenty years. The emergency room doctors saw my near-dead state and rushed me straight into surgery, shouting, “Pregnant woman, massive hemorrhage, needs type B-negative blood, now!” “We’re out of B-negative in the blood bank!” a young nurse called back, her face pale. The door swung open. A familiar figure stepped inside. “I’ll give her blood,” he said. “I’m B-negative.” I trembled, forcing my eyes open. It was my father, in his white doctor’s coat. My heart hammered against my ribs, and my eyes burned with unshed tears. 3 My father had to recognize me! He was giving me his blood! Just last night, he had driven through a thunderstorm to bring me my birthday present. He’d told me he’d gone to a remote monastery, a place of pilgrimage, and had a silver locket blessed by a reclusive monk, a charm to keep me and the baby safe. His face had been slick with rain, his brow etched with exhaustion, but his eyes, full of love, had been brighter than I’d ever seen them. My lips quivered as I managed a single, broken word. “Dad…” His gaze, sharp and cold behind his glasses, met mine. “Who are you calling Dad? I have two daughters. My eldest is at home celebrating her birthday, and my youngest is at the golf club. Don’t just call any man you see ‘Dad.’ It’s pathetic.” My mouth hung open. I was a clown in a tragedy of my own making. His words were a lightning strike that vaporized my entire world, turning my flesh and blood to ash. He… he didn’t recognize me either? Was it all a lie? All the years of affection, the whispered endearments of “my sweet girl,” “my darling Elara”… was all of it fake? My heart twisted in agony. I wanted to scream. Dad, save me. Save my baby. It’s your grandchild. But his next sentence plunged me straight into the ninth circle of hell. “My son-in-law just called. Seraphina’s old heart palpitations are acting up again…” He looked down at me, his face a clinical mask.

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1 The year I turned thirty, I did something stupid. I hid Wade Thorne’s little canary, his mistress, in a desperate attempt to win back his heart. When he found out, he didn’t hesitate. In a matter of days, my family’s company was bankrupt. My father, his life’s work destroyed, saw his hair turn white overnight. My mother nearly cried herself blind. And now, Wade was threatening to make my father kneel and beg for forgiveness, all to force me to reveal where his little bird was hidden. “Annabelle, I spoiled you too much,” he snarled, his voice a low growl. “It’s made you forget your place.” “Since you’re the one who made the mistake, I’ll be the one to teach you a lesson.” As the words left his mouth, his bodyguards seized my father, forcing his head down and slamming it against the cold, hard floor. In that moment, my heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles. … “Wade, that’s my father! He’s your elder! You can’t do this!” I screamed, a pain that gnawed at my soul tearing through me. My voice was hoarse, laced with a despair so deep it felt like the end of the world. We had dated for four years and been married for eight. Twelve years of our lives were tangled together. I never imagined it would end like this, with our hearts grown so distant, our bond irrevocably severed. Wade seized my chin, forcing my head up to meet his gaze. His face was a thunderous mask of fury. “Where did you hide Leah?” I wanted to fight back, but his men were everywhere. I choked back a sob and squeezed my eyes shut. My foolish pride had already cost my parents their life’s work; I couldn’t let them lose their dignity, too. I bit my lip until I tasted blood and met his cold stare. “Let my parents go. Promise me you’ll never bother them again, and I’ll tell you.” Wade waved a dismissive hand, and the bodyguards released my father. Just as a wave of relief washed over me, his hand shot out and clamped around my throat, slowly lifting me until my feet dangled in the air. The air vanished from my lungs. I clawed at his hand instinctively, but his voice was a blade of ice in my ear. “Annabelle, have I given you too much face?” “Did you really think I was that easy to negotiate with?” “Finding Leah is a matter of minutes for me. What gives someone like you the right to bargain?” “Crushing you,” he whispered, “would be as easy as stepping on an ant. Do you understand?” A suffocating blanket of terror and hopelessness enveloped me. I stared at him, tears streaming silently from the corners of my eyes. But even through the fear, I forced the words out. “Even so… you can’t hurt my parents! They’re my family!” At that, something in him snapped. His face darkened, and his grip tightened, as if he meant to end my life right then and there. Just as my vision began to blacken, he released me. I collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, my body shaking violently with a fear that was bone-deep. In that single, terrifying moment, our entire past flashed before my eyes. All the tender moments, the stolen kisses, the whispered promises—they all twisted together into a single, sharp dagger that plunged straight into my heart. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I broke down, sobbing. For the sudden, violent death of our love. For the hopeless abyss our marriage had become. And for the pathetic, desperate woman I had become, sacrificing my own dignity to try and save it all. Wade just stood there, watching me with cold, detached eyes, an aura of brutal power radiating from him. He strode forward and roughly tilted my chin up, forcing me to look at him. “Tell me. Where did you hide Leah?” His tone was so vicious, I knew that if I didn’t answer, something far worse was waiting for me. “The countryside,” I choked out. “She’s in the countryside.” In an instant, his fury melted into triumph. He turned on his heel and left, his men following in his wake. I knew. From that moment on, he was no longer my husband. And no matter how much I still loved him, I had to rip him out of my heart. Even if it tore out half my soul, I would do it without hesitation. 2 “Anna, honey, are you okay?” My mother pulled me into a tight embrace, her voice thick with tears. I shook my head, my own sobs choking me as I apologized over and over. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mom, Dad. If it weren’t for me, this never would have happened, you wouldn’t have to…” My father wrapped his arms around both of us, his voice aged and trembling. “It’s not your fault. Our Anna has suffered, too.” I wiped my tears away, my voice filled with a newfound resolve. “Mom, Dad… I’m divorcing Wade.” “Good,” my father said, his voice firm. “Nothing is more important than your happiness.” … I fell for Wade in college. It was love at first sight, for me at least. I chased him relentlessly, and after a long time, he finally gave in. We got married the day after graduation. It was only after we’d impulsively signed the papers that I learned who he really was. The heir to the Thorne fortune. He had never mentioned it. I’d always thought he was just a handsome, ordinary guy. After all, what kind of billionaire’s son wears faded jeans and threadbare t-shirts? He explained it to me later. “I was afraid people were after my money, not me.” I was so naive, I actually felt lucky that I’d fallen for his looks, not his wallet. I never thought to ask him what he saw in me. I also never imagined that the day I discovered his affair, he would point a finger at me and say: “Annabelle, why are you making such a scene?” “What does a thirty-year-old woman like you have that a girl in her early twenties doesn’t?” “You’re not as young as them, not as pretty, and your body isn’t as good.” “If I’m not going to play with them, am I supposed to play with you?” His words plunged me into an icy abyss. He seemed to have forgotten. He was the one who had begged me, with red-rimmed eyes, to love him just a little bit more. He was the one who had said: “Annabelle, my parents never taught me how to love someone.” “I don’t know how. Please, teach me.” “I want to love you right.” And he had also said: “Annabelle, my parents destroyed my perception of the world.” “You’re the only one who’s ever shown me what real love is.” Because of his parents, Wade was deeply insecure. So I whispered “I love you” in his ear, over and over, a constant reassurance. But he still needed to test my love, again and again. I was patient, I was tolerant. I would hold him in my arms, my heart aching for him, until he finally fell into a peaceful sleep. I thought we would grow old together like that, inseparable. Then he got his little canary, and it caught me completely off guard. Leah was twenty, a junior in college. I first saw her about six months ago. Wade had gotten into a brawl and was being held at the local police precinct. I went to bail him out. He was radiating a dark, violent energy, but the moment he saw me, it all dissipated. He followed me meekly as I took care of everything. Just as we were leaving, a young woman in a cocktail waitress uniform rushed up to him. “Sir, thank you so much,” she gushed. “If it weren’t for you tonight, I don’t know what would have happened. Thank you. If there’s ever a chance, I’ll do anything to repay you.” I froze, looking at Wade with confusion in my eyes. He waved her off with an impatient scowl. “Just find a different job.” The girl looked troubled. “I… I can’t. This one pays too well…” Wade looked her up and down, a predatory smile playing on his lips. “Is that so?” That girl was Leah. At the time, I couldn’t understand why Wade would suddenly help a stranger. He explained, “Seeing her… she reminded me of you when you were twenty. So I helped.” I didn’t think much of it. Not until he started bringing her to galas and charity events, brazenly holding her, kissing her in public for everyone to see. That’s when I finally understood the meaning of that predatory smile. He had wanted her from the very beginning. I cried. I screamed. I threw things. All I got in return was his cold reply: “Annabelle, what’s the big deal? When you were twenty, didn’t I love you just the same?” In that moment, I understood Wade’s love. He only loved women in their twenties. And I was no longer in that phase of my life. I wanted to file for divorce immediately. But life has a cruel sense of irony. After years of trying to get pregnant with no success, I found out I was pregnant right after I discovered his affair. For the sake of the baby, for the sake of our twelve years together, I decided to give him one last chance. If he would just come back to me, I would forgive him. So, I hired a few people to take Leah to a remote house in the countryside and keep her there. The result was crystal clear. For her, Wade destroyed my father’s life’s work. For her, he humiliated my parents. He showed no mercy, no consideration for our twelve years of history. I had lost. Utterly and completely.

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As the holidays approached, a group of “wildlife enthusiasts” sued me. They claimed that keeping animals in captivity was a form of abuse and, in the middle of the night, they “liberated” every animal in my zoo. A scream tore from my throat. That pack of morons will die out there! Later, a video popped up on my feed: a full-grown snow leopard, wailing miserably at a little calf. “Do you know where Mama Keeper is?” The calf trembled, backing away, which only made the snow leopard cry harder. “Mama Keeper, where are you? I’m starving to death.” 1 After graduation, I took over a small zoo. I’d just finished shooting a few promotional videos, hoping to drum up some business for the holiday season, when a court summons arrived. A group of self-proclaimed wildlife enthusiasts was taking me to court, arguing that by keeping wild animals in enclosures, I was suppressing their natural instincts. I was baffled. I run a zoo. If I’m not keeping animals, am I supposed to start keeping people? Thankfully, the judge was a reasonable person. My zoo’s paperwork was all in order, and the plaintiffs quickly lost their case. When I got back, I threw a small celebration. Leo, my snow leopard, circled my legs excitedly. “Mama, Mama, you’re the best! You didn’t let them take me away!” I buried my face in his thick fur. “Don’t you worry, I’ll always protect you. But seriously, I’m not your mom. I’m a single human woman. I couldn’t possibly give birth to a snow leopard your size.” “I don’t care. You were the first person I saw when I opened my eyes. You have to be my mom.” It was impossible to reason with a leopard cub who’d never known his own mother. And since I’ve been able to understand animals since I was a child, Leo was thoroughly convinced. Fine. He was a pathetic, fluffy orphan, so I let it slide. That night, after my rounds—tucking in the black bear who hated the cold, cuddling the clingy snow leopard, and consoling a Pallas’s cat nursing a broken heart—I finally collapsed into my own cozy bed. I woke up to armageddon. Where was my giant black bear? Gone! Kevin, who was supposed to be on night watch, was crying so hard his nose was running. “Some monsters… I only dozed off for a minute… They climbed the wall and opened all the cages!” The zoo was now a chaotic free-for-all, with animals wandering everywhere. The moment I stepped outside my door, Grandpa Sheldon, the seventy-year-old, six-hundred-pound Aldabra tortoise, lumbered past with a red panda clinging to his shell. “Little Keeper, this one’s a real handful. My ears are ringing.” I quickly scooped the red panda off his back and handed him to a keeper. “I’m so sorry, Grandpa Sheldon. I’ll get you right back to your enclosure.” The tortoise took a slow, deliberate step. “No need. It’s been ages since I had a good stroll. I think I’ll go see if that alligator who bit me is dead yet.” My eye twitched. “That was almost twenty years ago. You’re still holding a grudge?” I stepped aside just in time to lunge, grabbing a pelican that was trying to swallow a capybara whole. “How many times have I told you? You can’t eat your coworkers!” He refused to let go. “You only live once. A little taste of a coworker can’t hurt.” After rescuing the placid capybara, two white-faced sakis swung past overhead. “Good morning, Keeper! Another day, another joy!” Two freshly-made turds dropped from above, landing squarely on the head of a charging lion. “Catch us if you can, silly kitty!” The enraged lion roared, charging blindly. “You stinking monkeys! I’m going to eat you!” Grandpa Sheldon couldn’t dodge in time and was knocked onto his back, his legs flailing. He let out a weary sigh. “Oh, my old back. These young’uns have no respect these days.” It took the entire day to wrangle the frolicking animals back into their homes. Just as we thought it was over, Kevin screamed again. “The black bear, the snow leopard, and the Pallas’s cat are gone!” We pulled up last night’s security footage and saw her: Diane, the lead “wildlife enthusiast” from the lawsuit. She and a few others were sneaking up to Leo’s enclosure. Leo’s eyes shot open. He covered his head with his paws in terror. “Someone’s here to eat the leopard! Mama, help me!” 2 Diane cooed softly, “Don’t be afraid. Soon, you’ll be free.” A tranquilizer dart hissed through the air, embedding itself in Leo’s fluffy backside. They loaded him onto a waiting truck. Leo let out a pained cry. “Mama, tonight, I sail on my final voyage.” A mournful wail escaped my lips. “Leo! My sweet baby Leo, whom I raised from a bottle!” Kevin sent me the other videos. The black bear was sleeping so soundly that the tranquilizer dart didn’t even wake her. She just rolled over and kept snoring. The group had also tried to nab a giant panda, but our pandas have a habit of digging their own sleeping burrows, so the thieves came up empty-handed. The Pallas’s cat, Pip, had boarded the truck willingly. He’d been suffering from insomnia ever since his latest breakup and probably tagged along out of concern for his friends. I called the police immediately. The security cameras had caught the license plate. The police found Diane quickly. She showed no remorse. “It’s a bear’s nature to hunt. By caging them, you’re suppressing their instincts. And officer, look at what she feeds that snow leopard every day. There’s no nutritional balance. If that’s not abuse, what is?” She held up a video of a keeper feeding Leo, her voice ringing with conviction. I glanced at the video, confused. It was all fresh, high-quality meat. What was the problem? Diane’s voice rose with indignation. “You feed yourself fruits and vegetables, so why don’t you give any to the snow leopard? It’s obvious you’re just fattening him up to make a profit!” If Leo had heard that, he would have clawed her face off. He was a carnivore. “Besides,” she added smugly, “releasing animals is a good deed. I’m helping you atone for your sins.” I resisted the urge to slap her and turned to the reporters who had arrived. “The animals she stole have all been evaluated for release in the past,” I explained. “We only kept them in the zoo after determining they couldn’t survive in the wild.” Diane sneered. “They’re predators. Of course they can survive. They need to be free. Keeping them in a zoo will give them depression.” I shoved my phone in her face, playing the video that was now trending number one. In it, a grown snow leopard was wailing miserably at a little calf. He tried to pounce, but the calf kicked him twice, sending him tumbling. “Do you know where my Mama is? I’m so hungry. I miss my Mama.” Hearing his voice, tears of heartache streamed down my face. My poor Leo had never suffered a day in his life. He was so spoiled, his keepers had to cut his meat into tiny, bite-sized pieces. Chloe, a young reporter, handed me a tissue. “Don’t worry, Zoo Director. We just got a tip. The video was shot on nearby Mount Sterling.” I dried my tears, notified the Animal Protection Bureau, and rushed to the mountain. Following a tip from a local herdsman, we spent three grueling hours climbing to a midway point on the slope. Chloe had started a live stream of the rescue operation. Thanks to the viral video, her stream was flooded with viewers. 【That snow leopard really isn’t cut out for the wild. It’s being bullied by a calf!】 【What on earth does the keeper feed it? It’s so chubby.】 【So cute! Where is this zoo? I want to visit.】 An idea sparked. I jumped into the frame. “Our Crestview Zoo has been open for over forty years! We have all sorts of predators and cute critters you can see up close. And if you follow my account, tickets are only $9.99!” 【Is the director running a charity?】 【That’s so cheap! I have to go!】 In an instant, we sold over two thousand advance tickets. Chloe gave an awkward laugh and whispered, “Director, we haven’t even run our own ads yet.” I flushed, rubbing my nose. “Sorry, you go ahead.” Ever since I’d taken over the zoo, it had been a money pit. This was my first real chance to turn things around, and I got a little carried up. We soon reached the location from the video. The grass was trampled, covered in the hoofprints of cattle and the paw prints of a snow leopard. I raised a megaphone. “Leo! Leo, where are you? Mama’s here!” I shouted until my voice was hoarse, but there was no response. Then, one of the officers from the bureau called out. They had found snow leopard fur near a steep, rocky cliff. Their initial assessment was that he had fallen. 3 My heart plummeted into an abyss. I collapsed at the edge of the cliff, sobbing. “My poor Leo! An orphan since birth, never even had a girlfriend! Please come back! Mama won’t stop you from visiting Penelope next door anymore! You can have all the ice cream you want!” As I was crying my eyes out, a small calf peeked out from behind a tree. “Are you really Leo’s mom? Can you give me the secret password?” Without thinking, I replied, “Open Sesame.” The next moment, an agile snow leopard leaped out and pounced on me. “Mama, Mama, Mama! I knew it was you! I knew you’d come save me!” He tried to shove his entire head into my arms, his big, rough tongue licking away my tears. “Mama, Mama, Mama! Can I really go play with Penelope? And I want ten ice creams!” I grabbed his tongue. “Why didn’t you answer when I called?” Leo puffed out his chest proudly. “You always taught me, Mama. Never answer when a stranger calls your name, and never go with a stranger. You have to get the password right.” I was so exasperated I could have throttled him. I pounded on his back a few times. The little calf trotted over and kicked Leo with its hoof. “You said your mom was super tall and strong, and could take out my mom with one punch.” I silently handed the calf two beef jerky sticks and shooed it down the mountain to find its mother. The calf’s eyes lit up. “What is this? It’s delicious!” Leo started meowing with envy. “Mama, I want some too! A big piece!” The live stream chat was going wild. 【What an adorable snow leopard! He’s so cuddly.】 【Feeding beef jerky to a calf? The director is one of a kind.】 【Finally found one! That was tough. Now just the black bear left, that’s the dangerous one.】 Chloe stared at Leo’s sleek, glossy coat, her eyes full of envy. With my permission, she started petting him with both hands. Leo looked utterly resigned. “Mama, can I suddenly turn and scare her?” Just then, a breathless officer from the Animal Protection Bureau ran up, asking about the size of the missing black bear. When he learned that the bear, Honey, was seven feet tall, weighed eight hundred pounds, and was currently in heat, his face grew grave. “We found scraps of clothing and bear tracks nearby.” “We suspect,” he said grimly, “that this bear has killed someone.” I quickly waved my hands. Honey had been raised by a young female keeper since she was a cub. She was so gentle, you could hit her three times and she wouldn’t even make a peep. Even in heat, she wouldn’t attack a person without provocation. The officer held up a plaster cast of a paw print. “Are you sure the bear from your zoo weighs eight hundred pounds?” “Of course,” I said. “Honey just had a check-up a few days ago.” “Well,” he said, “the tracks we’re measuring suggest a bear weighing at least twelve hundred pounds.” 4 Leo’s fur instantly stood on end. He pressed himself against my leg, trembling. “Mama, I told you Honey would eat people! It has to be her! She’s always so mean! She’s not going to eat me, is she? Mama, save me!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I gave Leo a firm slap on the snout. “She was ‘mean’ to you because you were constipated and your poop smelled so bad you nearly made her pass out. And for your information, Honey couldn’t eat four hundred pounds of anything in one sitting.” But Leo’s simple brain wasn’t processing. He tugged at my clothes, wailing. “Honey must have eaten several people! It’s over! We’re all going to die today! And I haven’t even had a date with Penelope!” I clamped my hand over his mouth and looked at the officer. “We can’t be sure if there are any casualties yet,” the officer said. “We haven’t received any reports of missing people from the nearby villages. But one thing is certain: Honey isn’t the only black bear on this mountain.” Facing one zoo-raised black bear was one thing. Adding a much larger wild one to the mix escalated the danger exponentially. Especially since Honey had grown up in captivity, the bureau’s team had only brought tranquilizer guns. The atmosphere grew tense. The number of viewers on the live stream skyrocketed. 【Black bears really eat people!】 【I’m an expert: if you see a black bear, don’t run. Lie on the ground and play dead. That way you can die with some dignity.】 【This is no time for jokes. I saw a post saying two kids from the village went missing. I think they came up this mountain.】 My heart sank when I saw that comment. An adult would know to stay away from a bear, but a child? A curious kid might not recognize the danger. Seeing a gentle bear like Honey, they might even try to play with her. And out of instinct, Honey might attack to defend herself. Just then, an officer’s phone rang. It was confirmed: two children had wandered into the mountains. On the other end of the line, their parents were crying hysterically. The bureau team, which had been hesitating, made a decision. They were going up. “We’ve requested firearms from headquarters, but lives are at stake. Two children on this mountain is too dangerous. We’re continuing the search.” He then turned to me. “Director, for safety, we’ll need you to come with us.” I nodded. At the very least, I could try to control Honey if we found her. With a plan in place, our group assembled and followed the bear tracks deeper into the mountain.

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After scoring what I thought was an easy job at a zoo, I was in for a rude awakening. Turns out, the entire park was home to just me and two scruffy, bald-headed monkeys. And apparently, they could talk. Or at least, the app on my phone let me hear their thoughts. Bella, the female, was already sizing me up: [Is this human the new keeper? Ugh, another female. You are NOT allowed to like her, Beau!] Beau, the male, shot back: [Give me a break. I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t harass me.] My jaw hit the floor. These two weren’t just narcissists—they had their own relationship drama? And just then, my phone buzzed with a notification from the app: [A large shipment of animals in need of rescue is en route to the zoo. Please prepare for their arrival!] 1. After shotgunning my resume to over a thousand companies, I landed a job at a zoo. The reason? I’d listed “animal lover” under my hobbies. And just like that, I was in. I stared at the offer in my inbox, counting the zeros in the salary again. Ten thousand a month. A single, triumphant tear rolled down my cheek. The director, who I only ever communicated with online, told me to report directly to the zoo and download a special app beforehand. “The gate will scan your face for entry. Just clock in and out,” he’d texted. “Food and housing are covered. Your salary will be deposited on time every month, with performance bonuses.” “Your duties will be posted on the app. Keep an eye on it.” “Good luck.” I stood before the desolate-looking zoo, a flicker of doubt in my mind, and opened the app. My first task popped up: [Clean up the monkey enclosure.] With a sigh that could wither flowers, I went to find the monkey area. It was easy enough to find, given the park’s sparse population. As I got closer, I saw the app’s chat interface light up with their thoughts again. I typed back: [You know I can hear you, right?] In an instant, both their faces flushed bright red. They scrambled further into their rusty cage, only their wide, round eyes visible as they watched me. The app pinged again. A large convoy of animals was on its way. My next task: clean up the rest of the rundown zoo. 2. I had just finished scrubbing down the last of the enclosures when the monkeys, still huddled together, finally broke their silence. I pulled out my phone to see what they were thinking. Bella: [I’m not falling for it. Humans always want to meddle in our lives. They’ll probably make our kids do tricks for pocket change. Why would she be any different?] I raised an eyebrow. What had these two been through? Before I could ask, a truck horn blared from the main gate. I hurried over to open it. The driver, a burly man with a weathered face, hopped out and slapped the side of his truck. “Hey, miss. This package is a big one. You sure you can handle it?” “So, it’s a…” “An African lion,” he finished, a grim look on his face. He and his partner helped me move the crate to the lion enclosure before beating a hasty retreat. The moment they were gone, a new chat bubble popped up in the app. The lion, Leo: [Heh. Stupid human.] [Your time’s up, chump.] A shiver ran down my spine. This lion had a New Yorker’s attitude. He was glaring at me with bloodshot eyes. Though he was painfully thin, his fur matted and filthy, the raw power in his gaze was unmistakable. I was frozen to the spot, too terrified to move. Suddenly, Leo lunged, his sharp claws scraping against the bars of the cage as he let out a deafening roar. [Scared ya, didn’t I? Ha!] [Look at you, all soft and pink. Bet you taste better than the last keeper!] Did I read that right? The last keeper… tasted good? I whipped out my phone and frantically typed a resignation letter to the director. A second later, it was rejected. The director: [Stick it out for three more days. I’ll give you a thirty-thousand-dollar bonus.] Gritting my teeth, I turned and marched toward the small staff kitchen. 3. The moment I stepped out holding a meat cleaver, Leo’s roars shook the very ground. His front paws slammed against the bars, his eyes a furious, bloody red. He thought I was going to hurt him. My hands trembled, but I took a deep breath, pulled two large chunks of meat from a bucket, and began hacking them into smaller pieces right in front of him. Then, I placed them in his food bowl. Leo fell silent, stunned. [Stupid human. Trying to trick me with the same old slop?] I typed quickly: [Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.] I had a feeling this lion had spent some time down south, too. Next, I added a nutrient supplement to his water trough. Leo was skeletal, his skin showing through his sparse fur, crisscrossed with dozens of scars. One of his hind legs was broken, forcing him into a limp, but he still carried himself with the fearsome grace of a predator. I didn’t know how he’d gotten hurt, and I was too afraid to ask. Leo exploded again. [You’re putting stimulants in my food! You think that’ll make me jump through your stupid fire hoops for an extra hour? You little weasel, don’t even think about it!] His roar was so loud my eardrums throbbed. He even knew insults from back east. I held up my hands in a calming gesture, then drank a few drops of the nutrient liquid myself to prove it was safe. I’d checked the ingredients; it was harmless. A couple of drops wouldn’t hurt me. Leo froze. He gripped the bars of his cage, staring at me with a bewildered expression. [Hey, pipsqueak. You’re not… you’re not trying to make me perform?] I typed: [I just want to make sure you’re getting enough to eat. (And please don’t eat me.)] He eyed the food suspiciously, nudging it with his paw and sniffing it a few times. Finally, he took a hesitant bite. His eyes widened slightly. He then devoured the rest of the meat in a ravenous frenzy. After drinking his water, he looked up at me. The fury in his eyes had softened into confusion. [You actually fed me. A full meal. What’s the catch?] [You waiting for me to be full so you can beat me up? You snake!] I was at a loss with this multilingual, trash-talking lion. Words were useless. I had to show him I meant no harm. So, I brought out a portable speaker, set it to a low volume, and played some soft music—a soundscape of the savanna. The gentle thrum of a deer herd’s hooves, the quiet rustle of a meerkat nibbling on roots, the low gurgle of a giraffe drinking from a waterhole, the distant call of birds flying against a setting sun… Leo seemed to drift away, lost in memories of his home. He lay down, his body relaxing, listening intently as the tension slowly drained from him. Bella, the monkey, chimed in: [Okay, maybe this human isn’t so bad.] Beau was skeptical: [She’s only being nice because Leo could rip her to shreds. What about us? She plays music for the lion, but not for us. Classic favoritism!] Bella: [You’re right! But I don’t want music. I want to watch Crown of Thorns*.]* I got the hint. I found an old tablet in the storage room. Miraculously, it still had a streaming subscription. The moment the familiar, dramatic opening music began, Bella and Beau leaped from their cage and sat transfixed, their eyes glued to the screen for that famous, tense paternity test scene. I shot a quick message to the director: [Thank God you’re a VIP subscriber.] He didn’t reply, but a moment later, thirty thousand dollars appeared in my bank account. Just then, the app buzzed with a new logistics update: [A large animal is scheduled for delivery…] I grabbed my small shovel, cleaning supplies, and disinfectant, and got to work preparing another enclosure. An hour later, a peacock, as white and pristine as fresh snow, was delivered to the aviary. I had never seen such a magnificent creature. Compared to the scruffy monkeys and the scarred, skeletal lion, I couldn’t imagine what kind of help this elegant, noble bird could possibly need. A new user, Blanche the Peacock, appeared in the chat. [Hmph! And just who do we have here? A wicked, short-lived human, I see.] [From the looks of you, you’re no genius. Figures they’d send me the keeper nobody else wanted.] Was I really getting roasted by a peacock on my first week? I almost had to laugh. This bird was the definition of pride. I tapped open her profile on the app. [Blanche: suffers from deep-seated insecurity and paranoia. Prone to testing her keepers to see if they truly care for her.] [Her previous keeper subjected her to long-term emotional neglect, leading to severe depression. Blanche has attempted to starve herself to death twice. After her failed attempts, her keeper abandoned her…] Suddenly, I understood. It seemed my job wasn’t just about physical care. I was going to need a crash course in animal psychology. As I rubbed my temples, another arrival was announced. This time, it was a small cat, one that had clearly been through hell. 4. She was an American Shorthair, her body ravaged by ringworm and crawling with parasites. The sight of her made me gasp. The app had no information on her because she wasn’t an official rescue; a neighbor had brought her. “I saw you had staff here now, so I wanted to ask,” the kind-faced woman said, clutching a small carrier. “Do you… do you take in strays?” I hesitated, wondering if I needed the director’s approval. Seeing my hesitation, the woman quickly added, “I know I should take her to a vet, but it’s so expensive, and I just don’t have the money right now.” I looked down at the pathetic little cat. Her breathing was shallow, and she couldn’t even cry out in pain because her jaw had been shattered. My heart clenched. Suddenly, the app vibrated with a flurry of messages. Bella: [Keeper, what are you waiting for?!] Beau: [She won’t take the cat. It’s obviously sick and contagious. A selfish, hypocritical human would never take on that kind of responsibility.] Leo: [You take her in, and I’ll consider not eating you. I might even call you ‘sweetheart’ once in a while.~] Blanche: [And what if she does? She’ll just ignore it, let it suffer in silence. Humans are masters of the cold shoulder.] I sighed, put my phone away, and pulled on a pair of gloves. I felt the eyes of every animal in the zoo fixed on me as I gently lifted the cat from her carrier. “Ma’am,” I said to the woman, “I’ll take her. I’ll make sure she gets the care she needs.” The woman’s face broke into a relieved smile. “Oh, thank you! That’s wonderful! The poor thing has been through so much. She used to be in another zoo, but it went bankrupt, and she escaped.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “They just threw her in the monkey cage, and those awful monkeys… they… well, I can’t even say it. No food, no water, and they would… oh, it’s just too horrible to talk about!” Leo shot a hard glance at Bella and Beau. Blanche gave them a cold, sideways glare. Bella and Beau frantically shook their heads. [It wasn’t us!] After the neighbor left, I held the little cat close, speaking to her softly. “Don’t be scared. I’m just going to check your injuries.” “You’re with me now. I’ve got your back. Forget your old owners, your old keepers. It’s time for a fresh start.” “I don’t care what you were called before. From now on… your name is Charm. May all your bad luck vanish and only good things come your way.” The app vibrated. A new user had joined the chat. Charm the Cat: [Hello, everyone. My name is Charm. I’m a year and a half old…] Leo: [OMG, a cutie pie! I’m smitten… So sweet!~] Blanche: [Welcome to the family, little one.] Bella: [I may be a monkey, but I’m a girl monkey. Don’t you be scared of me, sweetie!] Beau: [And I may be a boy monkey, but I’d never hurt you. I swear on my monkey head!] I checked the app’s logistics schedule. The next shipment of animals wasn’t due for a few days. That gave me the perfect window to get Charm to a vet. Grabbing my scooter keys, I waved to my new menagerie. “I’m taking Charm to the doctor! You all be good. I’ll make you meat patties when I get back!” A cacophony of animal calls followed me—the chattering of monkeys, the roar of a lion, and the silent, magnificent unfurling of a peacock’s tail. 5. The vet’s report was a litany of horrors. Charm had been systematically tortured. Her claws had been pulled out with pliers. The pads of her paws were deliberately burned and left to fester. Her lower body showed signs of tearing, and her tail had been broken, allowed to heal, and then broken a second time. I listened to the diagnosis with my fists clenched, my stomach churning. “She’ll need to stay here for at least a week,” the vet said with a heavy sigh. I nodded. “I’ll cover the costs.” Charm was placed in a warm, clean incubator to await treatment. I pressed my hand against the clear pane, saying goodbye. Her breathing was faint, but she managed to lift a bandaged paw and press it against the glass, a single tear rolling from her eye. Charm the Cat: [Mommy, don’t forget to come back for me…] My heart ached with a fierce, protective love. [I will always come back for you,] I messaged back. [We’ll all be waiting for you to come home, healthy and strong.] Leo: [Don’t you worry, little one. Big bro will be waiting for ya! I’ll save all the best treats for you!] Bella: [You can do it, sweetie!] Beau: [Be brave, little girl!] Blanche: [Rest and heal.] After leaving the clinic, I messaged the director, updating him on Charm’s situation. He seemed pleased, telling me he knew he’d hired the right person—a keeper with a real heart. I replied: [Sir, I’m no expert in animal care, I only know the basics. I’d like to request funding for professional training.] He agreed without a moment’s hesitation. [I’ll cover the tuition. I’ll also transfer you the money for Charm’s vet bills.] A second later, fifty thousand dollars landed in my account. The deposit filled me with a surge of confidence and security. I clutched my phone, my mind racing with plans for a better, safer future for all the animals. But then, the director’s tone shifted back to business. [But this is a zoo, after all. We need to be profitable. I need you to put together a presentation detailing your business plan.] The request hit me like a ton of bricks. I stood frozen on the sidewalk, my brain smoking. 6. That evening, after feeding all the animals, I sat staring at my laptop. On the screen, a single line of black text mocked me: [Zoo Business Plan…] I wracked my brain, scouring the internet for information, compiling data on successful zoo models, and eventually creating a detailed presentation. I saved the draft and went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. My mind was flooded with images of animal abuse I’d stumbled upon during my research. The sheer volume of human cruelty I’d absorbed left me feeling physically ill. Unable to rest, I opened the app and began reading through my animals’ profiles again. Bella and Beau had been trained by a “monkey master” for street performances. The sight of a gong, a rope, or a whip still sent them into a panic. They had performed for their owner for three years. During that time, the owner’s wife had subjected Beau to horrifying abuse, right in front of Bella. The trauma left Bella with severe psychological scars, and Beau had suffered a complete mental breakdown. Their owner, indifferent to their suffering, only saw their performance slipping. He beat them more viciously, even forcing their own baby to perform. Eventually, someone reported him. When street performances were banned, he simply abandoned Bella and Beau. Their baby, tragically, was beaten to death by the man in a fit of rage. In the dark, a sliver of moonlight cut through my window. I saw my own shadow on the wall, trembling. I was sobbing. I opened Leo’s file. He had been taken from his parents as a cub and brought to a zoo for training. He was a brave lion, and his keeper had high hopes for him, creating a fire-jumping act. Like all animals, Leo was terrified of fire. But if he refused to jump, he was starved. If he persisted, he was beaten. Once, they broke his ribs. Eventually, he learned to jump. His first major performance was on a sixty-foot-high platform. The ring of fire below looked like the gaping maw of hell, ready to swallow him whole. Behind him, his keeper stood with a whip, his face a cold mask. “You’ve done this a hundred times. You can do it again. Don’t disappoint me, Leo. You know what happens when you disappoint me.” With a defiant roar, Leo leaped. He was still reeling from the terror when the roar of the crowd hit him. He panicked, lost his footing, and plunged sixty feet into the orca tank below. He was critically injured and nearly died. He survived, but he could never perform again. As he lay on a cold, sterile table, his keeper looked down at him with the same chilling indifference. “So, you can’t perform anymore, huh? Useless piece of trash.” In that moment, Leo didn’t feel pain. He felt relief. He had lied about eating his keeper. He just wanted to seem fierce, to build a wall around himself so no one could hurt him again. Because when he was just a cub, torn from his mother and placed in that man’s arms, he had been trusting and obedient. He’d looked up at him with hope. [Master, we’re going to be best friends forever, right? I trust you!] That Leo had been soft, hopeful, and so very foolish. Tears streamed down my face, a flood I couldn’t stop. My heart felt like a hollow, aching cavern. I didn’t sleep a wink. Just as my scheduled email was about to be sent to the director, I recalled the presentation I had made. As the morning sun streamed into my room, I sat down, my eyes shadowed with exhaustion, and wrote a new email. [I’m sorry, Director. My business plan is this: the animals will never perform again.] After hitting send, a profound sense of relief washed over me. I stretched, a genuine smile spreading across my face as I welcomed the sunlight. And then I fell asleep. And missed morning feeding time. And then I slept through lunch. It wasn’t until three in the afternoon that I groggily opened my phone to 99+ unread messages, all from the animals, all “friendly” reminders that I existed. 7. When the animals learned the director wanted the zoo to turn a profit, their fur stood on end. When they learned my plan was to do it without making them perform, it all smoothed back down. Bella: [I have never hated anything more than performing! Thank you for protecting us!] Beau: [I don’t know if the director will go for it, but just knowing you’re on our side… my heart is grateful!] Leo: [You idiot. You’re going to get yourself fired for defying the boss. But… since you’re a cute idiot, I guess I could stomach jumping through a hoop or two. For you.] I typed back immediately: [No. You will never have to jump through a hoop of fire again, Leo.] Leo let out a haughty little snort, fluffed his magnificent mane, and strutted away. [Don’t sweat it, babe. Your boy’s a legend. Skrrt.~] Blanche was busy digging a small hole with her claws, silent. I asked her, [Blanche, what are your thoughts on all this?] [None.] […Then what are you doing?] She lifted her head, her gaze imperious. [Isn’t it obvious? I’m holding a funeral for the fallen petals.] She then proceeded to nudge a fallen hibiscus blossom into the hole. I… had no response to that. Just then, the director’s reply came through. His email read: [Very well. If you don’t want them to perform, then find another way to bring in revenue. If the zoo fails, the only ones who will suffer are the animals.] The only ones who will suffer? What about me, unemployed and broke? I was sitting on the ground, lost in a cloud of gloom, when I saw a little girl and her mother hesitating by the gate. “Come on, honey,” the mother said gently. “It looks like they’re not open yet. We can wait until—” “We’re open!” I shot up like a spring. “Please, come in! Kids under ten and seniors over sixty are free! And we’re having a special promotion today—just $9.99 a ticket!” My grin must have been so desperately eager that the woman felt too awkward to refuse. “Well,” she said, shuffling inside, “I guess we can take a look, since we’re already here.” 8. I ran over to Blanche’s enclosure. [Blanche, my beautiful Blanche, I need your help.] She didn’t even look at me. [And why should I help you? I have no interest in your schemes.] I pleaded with her. [Please, Blanche, I’m begging you! You’re so gorgeous. If you just greet the guests with me, they’ll absolutely adore you!] She shot me a disdainful look. [Hmph. So much for ‘no performing.’ Now you want me to be a show pony for your customers. Your conscience must be a barren wasteland.] [Not a show pony, a hostess!] She turned her back on me. I have one great virtue: I am completely shameless. I laid it on thick. [Blanche, my darling, it would be a crime to hide such beauty from the world! You’re so elegant, so graceful! You’re the Audrey Hepburn of the animal kingdom!] She turned back, her voice softer. [My last owner didn’t think I was beautiful.] Before I could reply, the little girl from the gate walked over, her mouth agape. “Mommy,” she breathed, “she’s so pretty!” Blanche turned her full attention to the little girl, who was looking at her with wide, sincere eyes. “Mommy, I’ve never seen such a beautiful peacock! Is she a peacock fairy?” the girl whispered. “I want to touch her, but she’s so perfect, I’m afraid I might break her.” I crouched down. “That’s right, sweetie. We don’t touch the animals in the zoo, because—” Blanche shot me a look that could curdle milk. Then, with light, deliberate steps, she walked gracefully toward the little girl. With a dignity that was both regal and generous, she slowly fanned her magnificent tail. “WHOA!!!” the little girl gasped, completely mesmerized. “Mommy, she’s so beautiful! I’m going to write about her in my school paper!” Having made her point, Blanche folded her tail, hopped onto a low-hanging branch, and let her stunning feathers drape down, a vision of pure elegance. The little girl’s mother was recording a video on her phone. “Excuse me,” she asked, “is it okay if I post this online?” “Of course!” I beamed. 9. Blanche might have claimed she wouldn’t help me, but her body told a different story. The little girl’s compliments had her puffing out her chest with pride. After I showered her with a few more rainbow-colored praises, she was practically putty in my hands. She emerged from her enclosure and walked beside me, accompanying our guests on their tour of the zoo. Of course, with so few animals, the tour was short. But I knew that seeing Blanche’s display and having her walk with them was more than worth the price of admission. Before they left, the mother asked casually, “So, do the animals do any shows?” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, ma’am. The animals at our zoo don’t perform.” “They’re free to just be themselves.” I braced myself for a look of disdain, but to my surprise, the little girl looked up and said, “That’s good.” “The nature shows on TV never make the animals do tricks.” “If humans had to perform for animals, we wouldn’t like it either, right, Mommy?” Her mother smiled, stroking her hair. “You’re absolutely right, sweetie. We come to the zoo to see animals in their natural state, to learn about how they live. That’s what’s important.” The little girl cupped her face in her hands, looking completely content. “This is great. I’m definitely going to get a good grade on my paper!” After they left, Blanche quietly returned to her aviary. From that day on, she seemed less prone to her dramatic melancholy and became more active in the group chat. I had asked her to help me greet visitors hoping she would rediscover her own value, to help her forget the painful memories of neglect that had eroded her self-worth. Maybe everyone, human or animal, just needs to feel seen. Two days later, the director suddenly transferred fifty thousand dollars to my account as a bonus.

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I am an ape, just another resident of the zoo. Then one day, a girl told me I used to be human. In front of the gorilla enclosure, a tour guide waved a small red flag. “Welcome, everyone, to the Zenith Zoo’s gorilla habitat.” “If you fail the mission, the consequences will be more than you can bear.” Their mission, it seemed, had something to do with me. 01 The iron bars of the enclosure gleamed under the sickly white moonlight. Three days ago, a group of twenty people had stepped into this place. Now, including the girl clutching her arm before me, her face a mask of pale agony, only five remained. She knelt on the sand not far from me, pain twisting her beautiful features into a grimace. The moonlight starkly illuminated the gash on her right arm, so deep I could see the bone. The edges of the raw, torn flesh were already taking on an ominous, grayish hue. Biting her lip so hard it could have drawn blood, she fumbled in the pocket of her filthy jacket and pulled out a small, plastic-wrapped pastry. With a rough tear, she ripped open the packaging. Then, she did something that sent a primal chill down my spine. She didn’t eat it. Instead, she took the soft, flimsy pastry and ground it into the bloody mess of her arm, smearing it with the thick, dark-red fluid until it was soaked through. Plop. The pastry, now stained beyond recognition, landed at my feet. A few of my fellow apes, drawn by the scent of blood, let out restless growls, their eyes glowing red as they closed in. The girl’s gaze was fixed on me, cold and piercing, filled with a profound disgust and a scrutinizing intensity. A familiar, nauseating temptation washed over my mind. As if moved by some unseen hand, I extended a coarse finger, dabbed the sticky liquid on the pastry, and licked it. Then I snatched the blood-soaked bread and shoved it into my mouth. The coppery tang of blood mingled with the cloying sweetness of cheap flour, an assault on my senses. The moment she saw me swallow, the last flicker of hope in the girl’s eyes died, leaving only a dead, hollow emptiness. A mocking smirk twisted her lips, and she spat on the ground with utter contempt. “Tch.” “A beast is a beast.” “I’d rather die for good than become… that.” Her voice was a hoarse, curse-laden whisper. Ding! A sharp, monotonous bell suddenly shattered the night. Feeding time. The girl’s body jolted, every expression on her face freezing into one of pure, bone-deep terror. She scrambled to her feet, half-crawling, half-stumbling, and threw herself toward the locked gate of the enclosure, dragging her ruined arm with her last ounce of strength. Outside the gate, several figures in bulky, hermetically sealed green hazmat suits appeared, right on schedule. Masks, gloves, goggles—they were covered from head to toe. One of the keepers mechanically set down a bucket of vegetables and unidentified meat scraps while another blasted the ground with a high-pressure hose. Their movements were precise, efficient, and lifeless, like pre-programmed routines, executed without a second’s delay. After they left, a brief, dead silence fell over the enclosure. I leaned against a dead log, chewing on the lingering taste of blood in my mouth. This zoo had pathetically few visitors, just the occasional group of intruders. They never seemed to be here for the animals. But I was just an ape. These were not things I was supposed to think about. As midnight descended, casting a frost-like glow over the sleeping apes, I silently opened my eyes. After confirming that no one was watching, I slipped into the shadows of the rockery, into a cave hidden deep within. 02 In the darkest corner of the cave, I used my fingernails to dig through the soft earth, unearthing a small, rectangular metal box. The moment my fingers touched it, the box lit up with a soft chime. Several messages glowed on the screen: “Blade, what’s the status?” “You taken care of the alpha ape?” “Blade? You there?” “Answer me, man!” The sender’s icon was a snarling wolf, the name listed as “Mo.” I had swiped this box from the pocket of the man they called “Blade” the night he’d snuck in. The screen’s faint light illuminated my own short, coarse-haired fingers. Without hesitation, I moved my thumb, clumsy yet precise, and tapped the cool glass. “Hit a snag.” “Lay low for now. Text me.” Yes, I knew this thing was called a “phone.” And I knew how to use it. After replying, I reburied the phone deep in the earth and crept back to my spot, curling up as if I’d never left. A moment later, moonlight seeped through the crack of the heavy iron gate, along with the furtive faces of the five survivors. They were back. They moved like startled birds, their eyes scanning every dark corner, clearly terrified of the keepers who had just left. “Hmph. Another one bites the dust,” a man in a sharp suit said, his arms crossed. His hair was slicked back, and the glint off his gold-rimmed glasses was as cold as his voice. He was the only one in the group who still looked remotely put-together. A scrawny, rat-faced man standing next to him gave a weak laugh. “Stark, Blade’s still kicking. Just had some urgent business to take care of.” A young woman with a ponytail, looking like a college student, broke the tense silence. “If we want to live, we have to solve the riddle.” A little further away, an old man in a tattered security guard uniform nodded vigorously, like a pecking chicken. “Faye’s right!” The girl who had just fled, her arm still bleeding, hung her head, pressing her wound. She gave a barely perceptible nod in agreement. Stark pushed his glasses up his nose and spoke first. “The sage dreams he’s a butterfly, the butterfly dreams it’s a sage.” “It has to mean something, but we still haven’t cracked it.” “Let’s keep looking.” 03 Shortly after they left, I slowly turned my stiff neck. Their words clung to my mind like a cold spiderweb. The Butterfly Dream? Suddenly, a sharp image stabbed through my thoughts. The gorilla enclosure! The only one! Here! My head snapped around, my gaze locking onto a cluster of hydrangeas at the foot of the rockery. They were artificially planted, but blooming with an unnatural, vibrant intensity. Resting on a large, purple-blue flowerhead was a huge, iridescent swallowtail butterfly, utterly out of place. Its wings shimmered with a demonic, phosphorescent light in the moonlight. Its presence was both impossible and critical. Was this why they kept coming back, why they saw this enclosure as some kind of focal point? I climbed to the highest branch and lay on my back, staring up at the thick, churning clouds that pressed down on the zoo like a physical weight. I don’t know how much time passed before the wind began to howl. The clouds, like a rotting curtain, slowly tore apart. It was a full moon tonight. The enclosure was instantly bathed in a light so bright it was like daytime. Suddenly, without warning, an excruciating pain ripped through my entire body. “Ugh—AAAAAH!” It felt like a million red-hot needles erupting from the marrow of my bones. Every inch of my skin, every muscle, convulsed and tore apart. My soul felt like it had been thrown into a blazing furnace. An agonized scream tore itself from my throat. In my distorted vision, my long, gray-black fur began to curl and peel away, like paper licked by an invisible flame. It fell off in dry flakes, revealing smooth, human skin underneath. My bones cracked and popped, a sound like a string of firecrackers, as an unseen force brutally straightened my crouched limbs. The powerful, hunched form of the ape vanished. In its place was the naked, lean, and powerful body of a young man. As I stared in horror at my own unfamiliar human hands and feet, my mind a complete blank, a keeper in a full white hazmat suit walked up to me. He stood there, perfectly still, betraying no emotion. The eyes behind his goggles were cold, inorganic, devoid of any sign of life. The keeper tossed a neatly folded green hazmat suit at my feet. His voice, filtered through the mask, was the grating sound of rusty gears—flat, monotonous, and utterly without inflection. “No. 2517, you’re on duty tonight.” Without another word, like a robot whose program was complete, he turned and melted back into the thick darkness. Me? 2517? On duty? The aftershocks of the pain still gnawed at my nerves, and the cognitive dissonance of my sudden transformation nearly tore me apart. But the coldness in his eyes and the unquestionable authority in his voice instilled a fear in me that crushed any thought of defiance. 04 After I put on the suit, I tried to ask, “Who are you? How did I become human?” The keeper didn’t respond, as if he hadn’t heard me. He simply walked away, disappearing from the enclosure. The only answer was the wind whistling through the park and a low, distant, unidentifiable gnawing sound. As if pulled by invisible strings, I began to walk on these strange, heavy legs, starting my patrol. The zoo was caught in a kind of silent, deathly carnival. The herbivore enclosures I passed were terrifyingly quiet, their gentle inhabitants nowhere to be seen. I rounded a few more empty pens and finally arrived at the iron gate of the staff dormitory. The sound was coming from here. A thick, almost solid stench of blood, mixed with the metallic reek of torn flesh, hit my mask like a physical blow. Even through the filter, the nauseating smell seeped into my nostrils, triggering my gag reflex. My stomach churned. I pushed open the half-closed iron gate. The hellscape that greeted me seized my heart and made it stop. Viscous, dark-red blood carpeted every inch of the floor and walls, like a cheap, tacky rug. A massive Siberian tiger, its amber eyes reflecting a crimson glow, was tearing at a twitching mass on the floor that was barely recognizable as human tissue. On the fire escape door nearby, long, dark-red streaks of blood mixed with bits of internal organs were smeared across the metal. A few thick, scaly, grayish-brown tails protruded from behind the door. Komodo dragons. They were working in concert, using their powerful claws and serrated teeth to rip apart a corpse. Beyond them, a giant golden eagle perched on a light fixture, its sharp beak pecking at an eyeball hanging from the lampshade. A muscular kangaroo was frantically stomping on a body lying face-up on the ground. A brown bear was wedged in the doorway of a small break room, trying to pull half a human torso through the frame. A pack of gray wolves fought over a severed arm by the conference room door. A tall elk stood silently in a corner, a length of intestine dangling from its massive antlers. Even a colorful macaw was perched on a severed head, its thick beak digging into an eye socket. The air was a horrific symphony of guttural growls, the tearing of muscle and sinew, and the crunching of bone. My legs went weak, and I could barely stand on the slick, bloody floor. A chilling cold shot up my spine and froze my entire body. My mind went blank, filled only with a primal scream for survival. The moment I pushed the door open, the moment the smell hit the air, every single act of tearing and chewing stopped. Every pair of cold, emotionless animal eyes locked onto me. In that suffocating silence, I felt something tug at the cuff of my hazmat suit. Terror turned my muscles to rusty iron. I lowered my head, slowly, stiffly. Less than two feet away, a man—or what was left of him—was lying in a pool of still-congealing blood. His entire lower body was gone. From the torn wound at his waist, the white nubs of his spinal column and purplish-red coils of his intestines soaked in the gore. His remaining upper body twitched. A mangled hand reached up, clutching my pant leg. His face, gray from blood loss, turned an infinitesimal degree toward me. His shattered lips moved, and a gurgling, bubbling sound, like a dying man’s last breath, escaped his throat. His last shred of consciousness focused through his dying pupils, staring at my goggles. “Run…” He choked on the word and went still. Run? My brain issued the command, but my legs were filled with cement. Run where? Behind me was the unknown darkness of the park; before me was a hall of carnivorous beasts. They had stopped feeding, but their pure, primal, investigative stare was more terrifying than a direct attack. Just then, a leopard that had been lying in a pool of blood stirred. It seemed to have lost interest in the frozen tableau. It rose gracefully, stepping over the chunks of gore, and padded down the hall to a row of employee lockers. It pressed its wet nose against the cold metal seam of one. The next second, its eyes flashed with predatory light. A massive paw slammed against the locker door. BOOM! The thin metal door, along with its wooden frame, twisted and exploded like paper. Shards of metal and wood shot out like shrapnel. Behind the shattered door, a figure was curled into a ball.

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I’m a travel vlogger. On that sweltering All Souls’ Eve, the zoo’s “Hungry Ghost Gate” (a rusted Victorian arch) creaked open by itself. The fortune-teller—a defrocked Jesuit who studied Taoism—warned me: “That macaque’s yang lifespan is draining. It is kowtowing to you to borrow your life.” So I knelt like a confessing sinner and headbutted the ground until the cobblestones wept blood. Forty-seven strikes. A Catholic-Asian exorcism. 1 I’m a travel vlogger. On a sweltering All Souls’ Eve, while the rest of the city was shuttered in, I was still live-streaming from the Blackwood Zoo, grinding to leave my competition in the dust. The sun bled across the horizon, painting the empty pathways in shades of orange and blood. I was in the primate house, pointing my front-facing camera at a lone macaque, when I connected with the biggest paranormal streamer on the web. He went by “Master Shanyuan,” a name he’d adopted after his time studying Taoism. Rumor had it he was a defrocked Jesuit, which only added to his mystique. On screen, he was the spitting image of an ancient sage—a young man with long, dark hair tied back in a scholar’s knot, clad in flowing silken robes. He looked the part, and then some. “Master Shanyuan, hey! It’s Chloe,” I said, forcing a cheerful grin. “Tonight, we’re checking out the monkeys.” I panned the camera back to the macaque. Shanyuan’s serene expression tightened. His brow furrowed, his face turning grim. “That’s one of the Old Ones,” he said, his voice a low hum. “A relic from a forgotten time. Long ago, the Monkey King himself stormed the underworld and struck its name from the Ledger of Souls. It lives, but its yang lifespan has run dry.” My chat lit up. 【what is this, a halloween special??】 I glanced back at the monkey. Its fur was sleek, but its back was hunched, its movements ancient and weary. Its eyes, cold and dark, were locked onto me. And then it began to bow. Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound echoed unnervingly in the silent enclosure. It was prostrating itself, its forehead hitting the concrete floor with a sickening rhythm. “It’s kowtowing to you,” Shanyuan said, his voice flat, like a newscaster reporting a tragedy. “Begging to borrow your life.” “One year. Two years.” I spun around, dropped to my knees, and started kowtowing right back at it. “GIVE ME MY YEARS BACK, YOU FURRY LITTLE DEMON! GIVE THEM BACK!” I slammed my forehead into the ground—fast, hard, precise. The ghostly monkey froze mid-kowtow, its jaw slack with astonishment. Shanyuan deadpanned, “I… don’t think that’s how this is supposed to work.” He continued his emotionless countdown. “Negative one year. Negative two years.” The monkey snapped out of its stupor. We stared each other down, a bizarre duel of frantic prostration. But it was old, its movements stiff. It couldn’t keep up with the raw, desperate energy of a vlogger fighting for her life. Smoke seemed to curl from its wrinkled brow as it struggled to match my pace. 【lmao a vlogger and a monkey in a kowtow battle, is this real life??】 【i’m not even paying for this content, i feel like i’m stealing】 “If you haven’t followed yet, now’s the time, people!” I yelled between headbutts, my voice strained. “Hit that button and power up your girl!” I was young, I was fit, and I was terrified. I out-bowed that monkey by a full forty-seven strikes. With one final, wheezing gasp, it collapsed, its borrowed time exhausted. I had reverse-uno’d death itself. Shanyuan’s gaze drifted to the dying sun behind me. “The park is closing. You need to leave before the last light fades.” “The parrots here… only one of them tells the truth.” “And whatever you do,” he added, his voice dropping an octave, “do not make eye contact with the pythons.” He paused, cleared his throat, and his entire demeanor shifted into a slick, commercial drone. “And hey, if you run into any… ‘technical difficulties,’ head on over to the Azure Sky Priory’s online shop. We’ve got talismans, wards, the whole shebang. Group discounts as low as $9.99 a pop, folks.” 2 I scrambled to my feet and started back the way I came. The first enclosure on my route was the Reptile House. A colossal python, thick as a tree trunk, was coiled behind a wall of reinforced glass. I fumbled in my bag, pulled out a pair of oversized sunglasses, and slapped them on. Then I strode past with all the fake bravado I could muster. 【wait, that actually works? XD】 【CHLOE, BEHIND YOU!!】 【OMG OMG OMG WHAT IS THAT THING】 I whipped my head around. There, clinging to the branches of a gnarled oak tree, was the monkey. The one I’d just kowtowed into oblivion. It was back. It scrabbled on all fours, a dark, twitching horror, its body moving in a way that defied nature. A guttural screech tore from its throat. Did it just buy a respawn? Seriously? This thing was more persistent than a pop-up ad. “It just took a quick trip to the Underworld’s antechamber,” Shanyuan explained calmly from my phone. “But its name isn’t in the Ledger of Souls, so they kicked it right back out.” I didn’t need to be told twice. I broke into a dead sprint. “So what’s the play here?!” I gasped, my lungs burning. “My professional advice,” he said, “would be to run faster than it does.” “Are you kidding me?!” The monkey gave chase while I ran for my life, vaulting over benches and dodging possessed popcorn stands. Finally, I leaned against a wall, wheezing. This couldn’t go on. I quickly edited my stream description: 【Travel Vlogger Takes On The Underworld. Zero Experience.】 It was immediately flagged and removed for violating community guidelines. “Son of a…” My fingers flew across the screen, pulling up the Azure Sky Priory’s online shop. The talismans were all sold out. My chat was a flood of comments. 【Ooh, a talisman? Dibs.】 【Home alone and officially creeped out. Adding to cart.】 You guys couldn’t have left one for me?! Shanyuan spoke up. “If you’d like to see this item restocked, smash that ‘like’ button, friends. If we get enough interest, I’ll have my apprentice whip up another batch.” DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I’M DEALING WITH RIGHT NOW?! His apprentice’s head popped into the frame. “For our more… impatient patrons, a generous donation will get you a custom-drawn sigil, live and on the spot.” I didn’t hesitate. I tipped five hundred dollars. Shanyuan lifted his brush, dipped it in what looked like crimson ink, and began to paint. The lines were fluid, ancient. When he was done, he held the finished sigil up to the camera. It seemed to pulse with a faint light. “Show this to the monkey,” he said, a note of pride in his voice. “Ah, a truly perfect specimen.” I cranked my phone’s brightness to max and shoved it in the monkey’s face. It froze, its shrieking dying in its throat. A thin wisp of smoke began to curl from its fur. That was my cue. I ran. 3 The next area was the aviary. A row of parrots perched on a branch, their heads cocked. As I passed, they started talking. “Your favorite ship is queerbait.” “The day before my wedding, I found out my fiancé was sleeping with my maid of honor.” “I am the last heir of the Romanov dynasty. Venmo me $500 for a train ticket to my hidden vault, and I will make you a Duke when I reclaim my throne.” “The McDonald’s ice cream machine is broken. Again.” I ignored them all. Finally, one parrot, its feathers matted with something dark and wet, preened itself and spoke in a chillingly clear voice. “There’s no signal in this park. And the man you’re talking to? He’s not alive.” I wanted to reach out and clamp its beak shut. Way to be a buzzkill, you feathered menace. Shanyuan was my only lifeline in this godforsaken place. I stopped in my tracks and spun to face the bird, my voice ringing with indignation. “You take that back! Don’t you dare try to drive a wedge between us! Everyone in my chat, all my viewers… they’re my family! They’re the only reason I’m still going!” The parrot just stared at me. “…” Then it spat. “Ptooey. Simp.” 【LMAOOOO a parrot trying to stir up drama】 【omg that trust… i’m crying chloe we love you】 【I’ve been a sub for three years, I knew I picked the right streamer!】 【Fake fan alert, she’s only been streaming for two years.】 The warmth in the chat settled my frayed nerves. I turned my back on the squawking parrot and pushed onward. 4 The last vestiges of sunset vanished. The sky was now a deep, starless black. Ghostly lamps flickered to life along the path, their light as pale and weak as foxfire. “The park is officially closed,” Shanyuan announced. “The paths will grow longer from here on out.” His apprentice popped back on screen. “Care for a reading? A little divination to see what the road ahead holds?” I stared at the yawning, black entrance to the Tiger Territory. My heart hammered against my ribs. Gritting my teeth, I sent another five-hundred-dollar tip. Shanyuan produced a turtle shell and a handful of old coins. He shook them, the rattle echoing from my phone’s speaker, and cast them onto a silk cloth. He studied the pattern. “Do not buy anything from the groundskeeper. Your currencies are not compatible.” I switched on my phone’s flashlight, cutting a weak beam into the oppressive darkness. A figure stood silhouetted at the entrance to the tiger enclosure. 【That must be the groundskeeper he mentioned.】 【NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE. TURN BACK!】 My legs refused to move. “Demons and ghouls, get thee hence! By bell, book, and candle, I command thee!” I mumbled a panicked, half-remembered exorcism and took two shaky steps forward. The shadow glided toward me. A terrifying, mutual advance. My knees were knocking together so hard I was surprised I was still standing. The figure stopped right in front of me. “Just gonna, uh, pixelate this for you guys at home,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Don’t want to give anyone nightmares.” 【I’m crying, she’s still thinking of us.】 【What a sweetheart.】 I censored the feed and looked up. The groundskeeper’s face was bloodless, a stiff, waxen mask. He offered a smile so wide it looked like it had cracked the corners of his mouth. In one hand, he held a dripping, freshly killed chicken. “Buy a chicken for the tigers? Only twenty bucks,” he rasped. Shanyuan said not to buy anything. But he didn’t say anything about getting it for free. Time to swallow my pride. “I’m a student,” I said, my voice cracking convincingly. “Can you spot me?” The groundskeeper blinked. “?” I leaned into it. “My family’s dirt poor. I’ve got my eighty-year-old grandma and my three-year-old brother to support. Please, sir, just give it to me.” His words came out in a halting, confused stutter. “How… how big is the age gap between your mother and your brother?” Tears started welling in my eyes. “It’s a long story. My mom’s not my real mom, and my brother’s not my real brother…” The floodgates opened. I wept with the force of a Greek tragedy. “Okay, okay! Just take it!” the groundskeeper groaned, shoving the chicken into my hands. He turned and shuffled away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. 【Our girl has at least a decade of scamming experience.】 【LMAO who scams a GHOST?】 【Poor groundskeeper never stood a chance.】 I let out a shaky breath and walked on, clutching my ill-gotten chicken. 5 Three tigers paced in the enclosure, so starved they were little more than striped skeletons. But I only had one chicken. I stood at the entrance, stumped. “Okay, chat,” I said into my phone. “Three tigers, one chicken. Give me your best high-EQ solutions.” The chat exploded with suggestions. 【Whisper in their ear: ‘I’m a high-EQ individual, let me have this one.’】 【Tell them they have spinach in their teeth.】 【Just hang yourself at the gate to assert dominance.】 【Kneel and beg the tigers not to embarrass you.】 After a minute of scrolling, I decided to go with the kindergarten teacher approach. I held the chicken aloft. “Alright, let’s see which of my little tiger-wiger cubs is the goodest boy today!” All three skeletal tigers padded over, their eyes gleaming with a predatory light. “Okay, sit! Stand! Now, shake paws with the tiger next to you. Very good! You were the best listener, so you get the chicken!” I tossed the chicken over the fence. As I dusted off my hands, ready to make a clean getaway, a ferocious roar ripped through the air. 【SHIT, RUN! The other two are coming for you!】 【GO, CHLOE, GO!】 I glanced over my shoulder. The two starving tigers had burst out of the enclosure. They had torn the damn gate off its hinges and were carrying it on their backs, a clanging, terrifying battering ram chasing me down the path. This generation of tigers had zero chill. Absolutely no respect for the rules. Thankfully, they were weak from hunger and couldn’t run very fast. “Hey! You! The one with the chicken!” I yelled back at the enclosure. “A little help here!” The well-fed tiger trotted out and padded up beside me. “Down, boy,” I commanded. It obeyed. I swung myself onto its back. “Alright, buddy. Let’s lose these guys.” 【NO WAY, did that just happen?!】 【She’s a natural-born tiger whisperer.】 【Kindergarten Teacher strat for the win!】 6 I escaped the Tiger Territory, my heart still pounding. The next stop was the Peacock Garden. Shanyuan’s apprentice reappeared. “Another reading, vlogger? Second one’s half price.” “If I only get one, I save two-hundred-and-fifty bucks,” I shot back. “Sorry, no can do,” he said smugly. “This area has two rules.” My chat could see the despair on my face. 【Looks like she has no choice but to pay up.】 I was going to cry. This was the first time I’d ever paid a streamer during a collab. With a heavy heart, I sent another seven hundred and fifty. Shanyuan began the reading. “First rule: do not look at a peacock when its tail is fanned.” “What happens if I do?” I asked, dreading the answer. “…You become part of the display.” He cleared his throat. “Second rule: do not accept a peacock’s mating proposal.” “Huh?” Who in their right mind would do that? 【LMAO do not accept a peacock’s mating proposal】 【Is that a thing? Do people do that?】 I put my sunglasses back on and tried to stroll casually past the enclosure. A man stepped out, blocking my path. He was… stunning. Unnaturally so. Pale, luminous skin, piercing emerald eyes, a face that belonged on a magazine cover. 【Okay who is THIS? Say yes. Just say yes.】 【I take it back. I would accept.】 He flashed a smarmy, practiced smile. “The more I look at you, the more I hate you… for being so damn enchanting.” 【Ew. So greasy.】 【Never mind, the ones who wanted to say yes have gone quiet.】 I stared at him blankly. “…” Oh. So this was the peacock. He leaned a hand against a wall, striking a pose. “The pickup lines might be stolen, but my love for you is real.” I wished I had a bottle of dish soap to degrease him. Instead, I rummaged in my bag, found a packet of oil-blotting sheets, and tossed them at his face. He let out a high-pitched shriek and exploded into a flurry of feathers, transforming back into a giant peacock. “I don’t believe it! No one can resist my charms!” he squawked, and then fanned his tail. It wasn’t just feathers. The intricate patterns were eyes. Not patterns that looked like eyes. Actual, literal eyes. Hundreds of them, each one winking, throwing me a flirtatious, sickening glance. My stomach churned. I whipped out my phone and blasted him with the flashlight. “Hey! Have you no decency?!” he screeched, scrambling away. “You can’t just shine a bright light in a celebrity’s eyes!” 7 I made it out of the Peacock Garden, feeling thoroughly violated. The next area was the Elephant Enclosure. I was exhausted. This was not fun anymore. The apprentice’s voice piped up, sounding bored. “I’m tired of the script. Let’s cut to the chase. Buy two prophecies, get one free.” A pit formed in my stomach. Why were the rules multiplying? 【LMAO the look on her face is priceless】 【Tipping one dollar to help our girl get through this.】 【I’ll match that and raise you another dollar.】 So tired. When I get out of here, I’m becoming a paranormal streamer. The money’s insane. I sent another thousand dollars into the digital ether. Shanyuan began. “One: There is only one zookeeper. Two: Of the two paths out, take the one heading south. Three: I have miscalculated one of my prophecies.” “Excuse me?” My brain felt like it was short-circuiting. 【my head hurts, am i growing a brain?】 【crowdfunding brain cells, i don’t get the rules either.】 “Can I get a refund on the miscalculated prophecy?” I asked. The apprentice sniffed. “All sales are final, ma’am.” “Then I’ll call my credit card company and issue a chargeback.” “These are virtual goods, dear,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “Once rendered, they are non-refundable.” I played my last card. “My little brother used my phone. He’s a minor.” 【IS THAT HOW YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO USE THE MINOR REFUND EXCUSE LMAO】 【Fighting fire with fire, I respect it.】 Shanyuan was silent. The apprentice, through gritted teeth, said, “Fine. Refund issued.” A notification popped up on my screen. 【Refund Successful. Product: “I have miscalculated one of my prophecies.”】 Sneaky. So very sneaky. That was the wrong prophecy. The lie was the prophecy itself. I immediately sent the money back. 【I’m returning the freebie instead.】 【Class act. A truly honest streamer.】 With my path clear, I headed south. Halfway there, the zookeeper appeared. A ring of keys hung from his belt, and he carried a bunch of bananas. His skin had a sickly green-blue tint. “This path is under maintenance,” he droned, his voice hollow. “Please head east.” I ignored him and kept walking. Blood began to seep from the corners of his mouth. A low gurgle started in his throat. “WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME?! WHY!” I stopped, spun on my heel, and walked back, offering a polite bow. “You’re so right, my apologies. I’ll listen to you. Whatever you say.” He looked pleased. Humming a tuneless melody, he continued his patrol, swinging his keys. 【Team Coward gets a major win!】 【That’s not cowardice, that’s high EQ.】 The blood-leaking thing was way too terrifying. I wasn’t about to get murdered on the spot. In the Elephant Enclosure, I saw another zookeeper. This one was feeding an elephant, happily singing. “Oh, Mr. Elephant, Mr. Elephant, why is your trunk so very long?” The tune was oddly familiar. As I passed, he looked up at me, his eyes surprisingly clear. “Hey, miss,” he said. “Do you like green peppers?” I shook my head. “Hate ’em.” His face lit up. “Me too!” 【he looks so familiar… lmao】 【i know exactly who you’re thinking of】 8 We chatted for a while, completely ignoring the giant elephant beside us. “Well, I should get going,” I finally said. He dusted himself off. “I’ll see you out.” “I wanted to take the south path.” He looked troubled. “The south path is a no-go. There’s a guy watching it.” “Tell him to stop watching it.” “He’s really scary,” he mumbled. “I don’t dare.” We stood there in awkward silence. I pulled out my phone again. “Master Shanyuan, any ideas?” The apprentice rolled his eyes. “You got a refund. You’re on our block list.” Shanyuan sighed. “Check my shopping cart link.” I scrolled through the online store for what felt like an eternity before grimly selecting the cheapest Immobilization Talisman. I marched back toward the south path. The blood-leaking zookeeper snarled. “You dare return?” I held up my phone, the glowing talisman displayed on screen. “Red light, green light, one, two, three!” He froze solid. But the second I lowered my phone, his face contorted in rage and he lunged. I had no choice. I held the phone high above my head, screen facing him, and began walking backward, one painstaking step at a time, out of the enclosure. Once I was through the gate, I dropped my arm. He charged. CLANG! I slammed the gate shut. His momentum carried him forward, and he ended up comically embedded in the chain-link fence, struggling like a fish in a net. “Maybe you’ll think twice before scaring people,” I muttered, turning away.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393161”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My world dissolved into a game. A nightmare called the Terror Zoo. A voice, cold and metallic, crackled to life through unseen speakers, laying down the rules of this twisted park. 【Welcome to Harmony Zoo!】 【Defy a Keeper, and you die.】 【Die in the game, you die for real.】 The broadcast cut out, and in the sudden silence, they appeared. Monstrosities—humanoid in shape, but with the heads of beasts. They towered over us, seven feet tall, all crammed into the blue uniforms of park staff. They herded us, sorted us into four groups, a grim cataloging of our past sins against the animal kingdom. Then the torment began. They caged us. They made us fight each other. They put us on display for a new breed of visitor: mutated animals who stared at us with cold, intelligent eyes. Our only choice was to beat the game. To escape. 1. One moment, I was at my kitchen table, toast in hand. The next, darkness swallowed my world. When my eyes fluttered open, a synthetic voice echoed in my mind: 【Welcome to the Terror Zoo scenario. Players, please familiarize yourselves with your surroundings.】 I was standing in a sprawling, bewildered crowd, shuffling toward the entrance of a zoo. A ticket was clutched in my hand. “How did I get here? I should be in class!” “What’s a ‘game scenario’? I’ve never heard of anything like this! I want to go home!” The queue was a mix of faces—students, office workers, even elderly people who looked utterly lost, their confusion a mirror of my own. This place was alien, yet I recognized so many people from my city. It seemed we had all been pulled from the same pool. But something was off. The tickets. Everyone’s was a different color. Jessica, the pet influencer from my apartment building, held a green ticket. Old Man Abernathy, who bragged about poisoning the stray cats in the neighborhood, clutched a red one. Mine was yellow. I even saw a few people with blue. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. It felt like we were being graded, sorted like livestock for some unseen purpose. The line moved with unnerving speed. Soon, we were all inside the park grounds. There were thousands of us, but the zoo was vast, and the space swallowed our numbers easily. Just as people began to drift off, that metallic voice returned, booming from the park’s speakers. 【Welcome to Harmony Zoo! Please remember the following rules.】 【Abuse an animal, and you die.】 【Defy a Keeper, and you die.】 【Do not raise your voice, or you die.】 【Die in the game, and you die for real.】 【If a cobra speaks to you, ignore it. The consequences are your own.】 【The countdown begins in one minute. When it ends, the rules will be in full effect.】 【Initial Player Count: 1,309. Current Players: 1,309.】 The voice ceased. The crowd erupted. “What kind of messed-up game is this? All these rules!” “This is just a game! How can it be linked to real life? That’s insane!” “Don’t do this, don’t do that? Who the hell do they think they are? I’m outta here!” “It’s gotta be a bluff, right? Just to scare us. Like I’m really gonna get in trouble for talking loud!” I said nothing. I was afraid to die, and in a place like this, it was better to be a coward than a corpse. While others shouted, my eyes found the massive digital screen looming over the main plaza. A countdown was already running. 60, 59, 58… The seconds bled away. As the timer hit zero, a chilling silence fell over the plaza. I followed the terrified gazes of the crowd and my blood ran cold. Eight colossal figures were stalking toward us, walking on two legs. Their expressions were pure predator, their bodies like something from a mad scientist’s lab. Their legs were thicker than my waist; a single stomp could crush me into paste. And impossibly, they were all wearing the blue uniforms of the park staff, complete with employee ID badges. They were the Keepers. Mutated animals as zookeepers, managing human guests? The thought was pure insanity. 2. “Is that… silicone? Some kind of hyper-realistic mascot costume?” someone near me whispered in awe. “But how are they so tall? Are they on stilts?” “Look, the crocodile one is drooling! That’s a neat trick.” Amid the murmurs, the Crocodile Keeper’s head snapped toward the crowd. Its cavernous maw, lined with daggers of teeth, opened wide. It lunged, its jaws snapping shut around a man who had been shouting just moments before. A wet, crunching sound followed, sickeningly loud in the quiet plaza. Blood, shockingly red, trickled from between its teeth and spattered onto the pristine pavement. The movement was fluid, primal, utterly devoid of humanity. These weren’t costumes. The teeth, the blood, the raw bestial power—it was all real. For some reason, in this game, they had evolved. They walked like us, wore clothes like us, and it was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen. “Aaaah!” A woman screamed. In the next second, a massive serpent’s tail whipped out, coiling around her and hoisting her high into the air. Then, with brutal force, it slammed her into the concrete, shattering the ground on impact. The Black Snake Keeper hissed, its voice a dry rasp. “Such noisy little things. Did you not understand the rule about silence?” It was only then that the rule registered in our panic-addled minds. They were serious. The rules were real. The plaza became a tomb. You could have heard a pin drop. But it was too late. One by one, the Keepers descended upon those who had been yelling, devouring them, tearing them apart with a casual brutality that turned my stomach. We were trapped. We were terrified. Just then, the metallic voice returned. 【Player Alert: A significant number of animals have been infected with a mutational virus, granting them human-level intelligence and immense size. Harmony Zoo has specially appointed a selection of these animals as our new Keepers.】 【All players are advised to proceed with caution. Do not break the rules.】 【All players, present your tickets. You will now be divided into groups based on your ticket color for a tour of the zoo’s special exhibits.】 【Those holding red tickets will follow the Lion and the Tiger. You are Group A.】 【Those holding blue tickets will follow the Crocodile and the Snake. You are Group B.】 【Those holding yellow tickets will follow the Elephant and the Giraffe. You are Group C.】 【Those holding green tickets will follow the Dog and the Cat. You are Group D.】 【Exchanging tickets is forbidden. The penalty is immediate death.】 【You have five minutes to form your lines. Refusal to queue will be considered forfeiture. Forfeited players may be consumed at the Keepers’ discretion.】 【Initial Player Count: 1,309. Current Players: 1,300.】 The broadcast ended. A wave of silent, frantic motion swept the crowd. The game had just begun, and nine people were already dead. There were no laws here. Only rules. The boisterous attitudes had vanished, replaced by the meek obedience of lambs to the slaughter. Everyone pulled out their tickets and scurried to their designated Keepers, forming neat, silent lines. But there was always an exception. A blond teenager, maybe seventeen or eighteen, nervously approached the Crocodile Keeper. “Excuse me,” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. “I… I think I lost my ticket. What do I do?” The Crocodile Keeper’s demeanor was surprisingly professional. It pulled out a smartphone with its massive, clumsy-looking claws. “Your name, please? I can look up your ticket status for you.” The kid, Kyle, quickly gave his name. The Keeper’s claws tapped away on the screen with unnerving dexterity. After a moment, it looked up, its reptilian eyes glinting. “According to the system, you did not ‘lose’ your ticket. You threw it in a trash can upon entering the park, accompanied by the phrase, ‘What a garbage zoo.’” “That’s not important! The timer is almost up, just tell me what to do!” Kyle was frantic now. He had tossed the ticket, thinking it was useless once he was inside. A fatal mistake. Suddenly, the dreaded voice of the broadcast cut in again. 【EMERGENCY BROADCAST. TWO NEW RULES ARE NOW IN EFFECT.】 【Insulting the zoo or its Keepers is forbidden. The penalty is immediate death.】 【Intentionally discarding your ticket is forbidden. The penalty is immediate death.】 The Crocodile Keeper said nothing more. It simply opened its mouth and lunged. A moment later, all that was left of Kyle was a few tufts of blond hair, a dark, spreading stain on the concrete, and a pair of cheap flip-flops. A wave of panic rippled through the lines as a few others who had also carelessly tossed their tickets turned pale, some collapsing in terror. Their fate was the same as Kyle’s. When the electronic voice returned, the lines were perfectly formed. 【Initial Player Count: 1,309. Current Players: 1,273.】 3. My luck held, for now. I was in Group C, led by the Elephant and Giraffe Keepers, who seemed marginally less homicidal than the others. I had no idea where the other groups were being taken, but our procession of a few hundred people was marched toward a large, sterile building: The Specimen Exhibition Hall. Unlike any zoo I’d ever seen, these weren’t animal specimens. They were human. The Elephant Keeper gestured with its trunk toward a wall lined with preserved human bodies, its voice thick with pride. “These are our trophies from the last month of hunting.” It all clicked into place. The string of missing persons cases that had rocked the city. The police thought it was a trafficking ring. The truth was so much worse. A few people in our group broke down, sobbing as they recognized a loved one mounted on the wall like a prize buck. “Don’t waste your tears,” the Keeper rumbled. “They were not innocents. They belonged to the worst of you—the Double-A tier.” “Fortunately for you, we have already… processed… all of the Double-A humans before your arrival.” “That one,” it gestured, “the one with only the head remaining. He was the owner of a famous local cosmetics company. He tested his products on lab rats. Before they died from the experiments, he’d sell their bodies to underground slaughterhouses that supplied restaurants. Thousands of rats died by his hand every year.” A woman near me gagged. “Oh god… I ate at that barbecue place last week. I thought my rabbit skewers tasted like… foundation. I thought I was going crazy.” “My spicy rabbit heads tasted like lipstick!” another man whispered in horror. “The owner swore I was imagining it!” So it wasn’t rabbit at all. It was poisoned lab rats. Several people doubled over, vomiting onto the polished floor. “And that one,” the Elephant continued, pointing to a desiccated figure hanging from the ceiling, “he was a poacher. Used poison darts to kill over a hundred dogs. Not for food, not for money. Just to satisfy some sick, twisted part of himself.” The tour continued, a macabre gallery of human monsters. Each specimen had one thing in common: they had inflicted immense, cruel, and senseless suffering upon animals. By the time we were finally allowed to leave the exhibition hall, most of us looked like shell-shocked survivors. The very thought of eating meat was enough to make my stomach churn. As we stumbled out into the blinding sun, a notification sound chimed. 【Initial Player Count: 1,309. Current Players: 1,024.】 What? We looked at each other in confusion. Then, the giant screen on the exterior of the hall flickered to life, showing live feeds of the other groups.

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