Gulping audibly, Nainai trembled as she slowly placed her other small hand atop the black cat’s head with tender care.

The cat showed no resistance, obediently flattening its ears along the direction of her palm.

Its eyes even drifted shut, heavy with trust.

Its muscles melted like liquid, its flank pressing gently against Nainai’s calf—a surrender in every line of its body.

Nainai, blissfully ruffling the soft fur on its back, felt pure happiness.

Since the cat was this trusting… she wouldn’t hold back.

Careful to avoid any hidden wounds on its head, her fingers explored its supple body:

along its spine, under its forelegs; across its belly, down its tail; behind its ears, beneath its jaw…

Even the sensitive paw pads—usually fiercely guarded by cats—yielded to her touch.

Miraculously, this stray carried no foul odor. Only a faint herbal freshness clung to its warm, living scent.

If not for parasites and bacteria… Nainai would’ve buried her face in its belly for a deep, happy inhale.

*Is this really free?* she wondered, giddy. *Am I in a cat café?*

“Mew… mew…”

The surrounding cats watched their “king” melt under a stranger’s touch. Their stunned, almost disillusioned stares spoke volumes.

But this cat ruled through strength, dignity, and wisdom. Their loyalty was absolute—this peaceful sanctuary existed only because of it. Obedience was etched into their souls.

Nainai’s curiosity drifted to the third eye between the cat’s brows—a wound might linger there.

*A three-eyed, two-tailed black cat?*

Like humans twisted by Corruption Essence into Subhumans, animals too could mutate. The Federation had no official term for them. Netizens called them “Rare Beasts”—precious, vanishingly scarce.

Her finger traced the cat’s damp black nose, inching toward its closed third eye.

“Grrr—mew!”

A low growl cut her off. The cat jerked its head away, baring teeth in warning.

“Ah! You don’t like that spot?” Nainai flinched back under its eerily human gaze.

*It’s protecting me,* the cat thought. Its damaged Crimson Sacred Eye could lash out uncontrollably. It couldn’t risk harming this girl—so like its lost owner.

*Drip… drip…*

Outside, the summer rain softened to a drizzle. Time to leave.

The cat had taken comfort from her, but this scrapyard was its kingdom—a hidden haven in the concrete jungle. It was no pet. It was wild.

“Mee-oww…”

It slipped from Nainai’s arms, vanishing into the waiting circle of cats. Its molten amber eyes fixed on Nainai and Fusiming, clear and cold:

*—Leave.*

Nainai froze, heart sinking. *Did I anger it by touching its eye?*

Her drooping eyes shimmered with disappointment. *Such a rare, almost human-like cat… I don’t want it to hate me!*

“Cat! I’m sorry!” she whispered urgently.

On all fours, she crawled forward, wiggling her hips in a desperate, humble shuffle toward the feline sovereign.

Fusiming, binding his cheek wound with torn shirt strips, glanced up—

—and froze.

Nainai’s soaked white dress had split open at the back. The safety pins securing it were long gone. The heavy, juice-soaked fabric parted like theater curtains, revealing everything beneath.

Cloud-soft curves swelled beneath translucent, lemon-stained fabric. Every contour was traced in intimate detail. And those curves swayed hypnotically before his eyes…

Fusiming said nothing. His face was half-hidden by bandages and bangs. But his hunched shoulders betrayed the struggle.

*This is… hard to ignore.*

Nainai, oblivious, still focused on the cat.

*This isn’t right,* Fusiming thought. *I’m no creep.*

Silently, he shrugged off his sleeveless black shirt and draped it over her bare back. On her petite frame, it hung like a short dress—more than enough coverage.

“Huh?” Nainai twisted, confused by the sudden weight.

Fusiming’s bare torso was a masterpiece of lean muscle—sculpted but not bulky, radiating coiled power.

“…Showing off?” Nainai glared at his abs, jealousy flaring as she recalled her own former “beer belly.”

His bare chest *was* undeniably hot—even gay men would swoon. But after twenty years as a man, she wasn’t some blushing maiden.

“I wasn’t—” Fusiming started.

“You were flashing,” he finished flatly.

“…”

Nainai followed his gaze downward. Her hand flew to her backside—

—and met only slick, bare skin. Her threadbare, translucent panties had been fully exposed.

*He saw everything.*

Her cheeks flushed from pale dumpling to ripe peach. Even as a guy, seeing another man’s junk was embarrassing! Now, as Nainai the Succubus, her privacy mattered. She fed on desire—but she wasn’t some public toy. A glimpse of panties was her limit.

“…You saw?” she hissed through clenched teeth, face burning.

Fusiming stayed silent. But under her tear-filled, furious glare, he gave the tiniest nod.

“Then…”

Unexpectedly, Nainai didn’t recoil. She tilted her head, a sly smile curling her lips. Her blush deepened as she purred, voice dripping with honeyed mischief:

“Did you like what you saw? ❤”

The question—so boldly intimate, so shamelessly sweet—dragged the image back into Fusiming’s mind. With his sharp eyes and vivid imagination, he could already feel the breathtaking softness beneath that thin, soaked fabric.

If you were to ask whether it was beautiful...

There was no sight more breathtaking in the world than that.

As if in a trance, Fusiming unconsciously nodded slightly.

But he snapped awake instantly, realizing he’d just entertained indecent, disrespectful thoughts.

Yet it was already too late.

Ambiguity hardened into coldness; shyness twisted into disgust.

The expression on Little Succubus’s face—once as radiant and rosy as spring blossoms—froze instantly into wintry indifference, sharp as ice.

“Pervert.”

The two words spilled from a young voice laced with a trace of childish sweetness, yet dripping with icy contempt.

Little Succubus’s unfamiliar disgust, and her dull, contempt-filled eyes gazing at him like trash, struck Fusiming like a physical blow.

“......”

The awkward young man felt a deep ache.

He had seen it, true... but it wasn’t his fault.

He’d only glimpsed it by accident, passively... nothing more...

He’d even made amends, covering Nainai’s exposed modesty with his own hands.

Yet he was branded with the word “pervert.”

Was he supposed to pretend he’d seen nothing?

Pressing his thin lips tight, Fusiming pondered in confusion.

Having never interacted with girls before, he simply couldn’t grasp such things.

This was the limitation of a hopelessly straight man.