Listening to Freya’s description, Karl silently resolved: absolutely no magical beast matching her criteria would he buy.

What the hell?! Strong enough to fight, rideable, *and* radiating imperial majesty? That’s basically handing her a rebellion blueprint!!

He could already picture Freya imagining herself astride the beast, sword raised, commanding legions like a sovereign.

Hmph. Unless I drop dead today—don’t even dream it.

By the time Karl finished this thought, the trio reached the first magical pet stall.

“Honored guests! Looking for a magical pet? Sky-flyers, land-runners, water-swimmers—I’ve got it all!” chirped the short shopkeeper.

Before Karl could speak, Freya stepped forward. “Got anything strong, rideable, and… especially imposing?”

Smart girl—she’d skipped “imperial aura” aloud. Saying that outright? Straight-up treason.

The shopkeeper beamed. “Yes! Yes!! Right this way, miss!” He dashed behind the stall, unlocked a cage, and led out a lion over two meters long.

“Check this out—Thunder Lion. Grade C magical beast. Fights, rides, *and* commands presence.”

Freya’s crimson eyes instantly lit up.

Strong! Rideable! Majestic!

*This* was her dream companion!

Just imagine Karl atop it, crown gleaming, sword raised, rallying heroes—pure fantasy perfection!!!

She was already nodding to buy it.

“Nah, too fierce,” Karl cut in smoothly. “Grade C? If it snaps, we two couldn’t control it.”

Mia nodded beside him. “Yeah… keeping something this wild at home scares me. And sister—I heard magical pets need raising from infancy to bond properly.”

Disappointment flickered across Freya’s face. “You’re right… without early bonding, it’ll never truly trust us.”

The shopkeeper rubbed his neck. “Sorry, no cubs here. Try deeper in the market. But heads-up—picking a cub’s tricky. Wrong choice? No amount of training fixes it.”

Karl offered a faint smile. “Thanks for the warning.”

They moved on. Karl spotted plenty—flying, running, swimming beasts of every kind. Yet none fit.

Why?

Too huge when grown. Too battle-hungry. Too regal—practically whispering *“Mount me and declare war!”* to Freya.

Karl shuddered. *Genuinely* terrified.

Decision made: gentle. Cute. Tiny. Combat power? Irrelevant.

After another fruitless loop, a clear, melodic cry caught his ear—crisp, soulful, utterly enchanting.

He followed the sound. Inside a square iron cage sat a small brown creature.

Karl leaned closer, intrigued.

Brown fur like a deer… head vaguely goat-like with tiny horns… tail oddly fish-shaped.

“What *is* this?”

The shopkeeper grinned. “Call it ‘Four-Unlikes’.”

Karl blinked. “Four-Unlikes?? Milu???”

*This world has Milu?!*

The shopkeeper faltered. “Milu…? Well, ‘Four-Unlikes’ was just my made-up name. No clue what it is. Call it Milu if you like—it *does* look deer-ish.”

Karl had only read about Milu in textbooks. This little one differed slightly… *An otherworld variant?*

Freya joined him. “Heard its cry earlier. So lovely.”

Mia cooed, “So adorable~~~”

As they chatted, the creature *slightly* bent its front knees—and bowed.

“Did… did it just *bow*???”

“So polite!!”

“Shopkeeper, you trained it?!” Mia rapid-fired.

He shook his head. “N-no! Found her in a forest cave yesterday. Haven’t even ID’d her species.”

Mia squinted. “But she looks *so* like you… like you raised her forever.”

The shopkeeper stiffened. “O-of course she resembles me! I’m her—” He snapped his mouth shut. “—her savior! Naturally she mirrors me!”

“??????”

*What logic is that?!*

Karl ignored the oddity, heart already won. Harmless. Melodic cry. A creature echoing his homeland. *Perfect.*

*(Panda would’ve been legendary…)*

“How much for the little Milu?”

“Fifty thousand gold.”

“………..” Karl turned to leave.

“Wait! Thirty thousand!”

“……..”

“Five thousand!!!”

“Four! Three! Five hundred!!!”

“Deal!!”

At “five hundred,” Karl whipped out his coin purse—then paused, glancing at Freya. “Darling… this little Milu okay with you?”

Freya smiled softly. “You love it. How could I say no?”

“But… do *you* like it?”

She considered. “Can’t fight. No grand presence. But cute. Sweet voice. I accept it… mostly because *you* do.”

Karl’s eyes crinkled. “You’re the best.”

Mia watched them, lips pursed sky-high.

*Ugh… When will Brother-in-law notice me?*

She was practically swimming in jealousy.

They signed the contract, bought mountains of pet supplies, and rode home gleefully. En route, Karl named her: **Mimi**—a playful nod to “Mi” in *Milu*, though it sounded cat-like.

Mia cuddled Mimi the whole way, kissing and hugging without hesitation. Strangely, not *a trace* of musk—only a faint, clean fragrance.

Home. Mia proudly presented Mimi to her parents-in-law. Her mother-in-law gently reached out. Mia urged Mimi to bow… but the little one stayed stubbornly still.

“Weird… She bowed to *us* earlier…” Mia murmured, puzzled.

No one noticed the father-in-law’s face—pale, trembling, utterly stunned.

*What… the hell… did you bring home?!*

**Qilin?!**