†Chapter 5: A Peculiar Housemate†

 

 

 

†Chapter 5: A Peculiar Housemate†

 

“THIS is your room. Use it however you want,” Zelaide said in a gruff voice, placing the hard-shell suitcase Euphemia brought with her in the middle of the room. That was the first thing he’d said in the past few hours. Hearing his voice alone was enough to make her happy, and she twirled around to take in the room in its entirety.

“This is the same room I used when you saved my life, right? It’s nice. Thanks!”

This marked the second time she came to his house today.

Euphemia had never fathomed the possibility of this happening when she visited his house earlier in the day. Just when she’d thought she could spend time with him after waiting six days since their initial meeting, her time was cut short by an urgent call from her sister. But the most shocking revelation of the day had been her unexpected second reunion with him at city hall.

Once matters were settled at city hall, Euphemia had immediately left for her apartment, where she hastily shoved the items she needed most into a suitcase. Then she vacated the apartment room she had called home to begin her new life. Erica would take care of contacting her housekeeper Mrs. Mayo and putting things in order for her move.

Zelaide watched her the entire time.

Naturally, he hadn’t helped her pack, choosing to instead lean against the wall with his arms folded, his head turned away. Yet, once she finished stuffing what she needed into her suitcase, he picked it up without her asking him. During the drive back to his place, he stayed quieter than a mouse, his expression flat, careful to never make eye contact with her. She tried multiple times to start up a conversation, but it felt like she was talking to a stone wall. Eventually, she accepted that it was futile and fell silent.

Now that he had finally said something to her, she felt a little relieved. He may have come to despise her, but at least he hadn’t decided to never speak to her again.

“Just leave a note detailing whatever you don’t have enough of.”

“I can’t bring it up with you directly?” Euphemia asked the man’s capacious back, as he tried to retreat from the room. She wasn’t going to let an opportunity to talk escape her so easily.

“I don’t know anything ‘bout female products. If you leave a note out, I can pass it on to Pal. And let me remind you of our agreement: you will obey my instructions while you’re under my protection. Especially while you live in this house,” he stressed.

Euphemia’s heart lurched when Palmina’s name came up. The way he spoke of her didn’t make it sound like they were anything more than Contractor and agent, but he at least trusted the woman to some extent.

“When can I meet Miss Pal?”

Zelaide unexpectedly stopped on his way out the door and looked back at her. She’d hit on a topic he was willing to talk about.

“Can’t say for sure. She usually comes and goes while I’m out.”

Does he accept and reject jobs over his IHT then? I doubt Zelaide would trust someone he’s never met in person before, so he must meet up with her when necessary. Maybe they only talk about work when they meet…no, probably not. Euphemia let her imagination run wild and became depressed by where it went.

She couldn’t pester him with questions yet; the number of times they had met and talked could be counted on one hand. She wanted to know as much about him as possible, without frustrating him.

I want to get to know Zelaide better! she earnestly thought.

“I see… Then what else should I be careful of while I’m here?” Euphemia asked to drag out the conversation.

“First, don’t interact with me more than absolutely necessary. We will eat and sleep separately.”

“Can’t we at least have breakfast together? I’m not a good cook, but I can make a mean toast. I can fry up some decent eggs too.”

“Don’t need it. If you want to cook, cook for yourself and eat when you feel like it. I’ll have various ingredients stocked up for you.”

He’s going to rely on Pal for that too? I wonder what she’s like.

“Second, always bring me with you when you leave the house. Even if just for a few minutes.”

“But earlier you told me to refrain from ever going out.”

“To the best of your ability.”

“I assume I can’t even meet up with my friends?”

He just looked at me with a face that said, “Is this girl stupid or what?”

“…You can.”

“Pardon?”

“You can meet your friends if ya want. I’m no expert, but don’t young ladies like you need entertainment to survive?”

“Are you sure it’s okay? I don’t think I’ll go out too much anyway. I don’t have many friends.”

“If you say so.”

“I’ll listen to anything you tell me to make your job easier, so please let me go shopping once in a while.”

“You can go. I’ve done bodyguard work for celebrities before. I wouldn’t be any better than a third-rate Contractor if I can’t keep you safe outside of the house.”

“Neat! You’ve worked for celebrities! Did you ever work for someone I might know?” Euphemia brimmed with curiosity.

“Couldn’t say.” He shot down the topic.

One of the celebrities who’d hired him was actually a very famous actress at her wits’ end over a male fan-turned-stalker.

Nothing happened for a whole month, until the desperate man snuck into a movie press conference, seeped his clothes in oil, lit himself on fire, and charged toward the actress. Zelaide had gotten in his way and beat him up before he could do any damage. Fortunately, the actress was unharmed and the man’s burns hadn’t been serious because he’d used too little oil. The job had been no big deal to Zelaide, but similar incidents kept happening, and the actress eventually fell for his looks and work ethic. In the end, she became a stalker herself, putting Zelaide in a frustratingly sticky situation.

Even Zelaide couldn’t put up with her overzealous, passionate appeals for his affections; he contacted Palmina and disappeared for a few weeks, like he did after meeting Euphemia. He saw no reason to bring these series of events to Euphemia’s attention, so he said nothing.

“Hm…that makes sense. I should’ve guessed as much.” Euphemia nodded with a serious expression, respectfully writing off his silence as having to do with a confidentiality clause between Contractor and client.

“Don’t get involved with me outside of—”

“But,” Euphemia cheerfully spoke over him, “I think it’s best for us to get along rather than not, since we’ll be housemates for a while! I won’t push a topic if it’s uncomfortable for you, so start up the occasional conversation with me when you feel like it.”

“I have nothing to…”

…talk to you about. The last words fell short because his eyes met hers. Annoying.

“I’ll be waiting… Okay?” she insisted, blinking those big emerald eyes up at him.

“…What a pain…” Zelaide muttered as if all the life had been sucked out of him. He left the room with his black coat fluttering behind him, signaling the conversation was over.

Left behind, Euphemia had little to do other than unpack her clothes and accessories from her suitcase and straighten up the room she would call home for a while. The room was the same as the last time she had visited—it looked brand new, like it’d just been built yesterday, and otherwise unlived-in. Euphemia felt a tad relieved to see it hadn’t been used since the last time she was there. Judging from their conversation just now, despite Zelaide’s attractive looks, he wasn’t the type to bring a pretty woman home with him.

But he’s going to be with me the entire time for three whole weeks, right? So…what’s he going to do about women during that time? I’m not really sure how it works for him.

Oblivious as she may be, even Euphemia understood Zelaide had reluctantly accepted living together with her.

Was it possible for an adult man with such a wild air to him to survive three whole months without enjoying a woman’s company? Was it even healthy to? She found that hard to believe, even with her meager knowledge on the topic. Their contract left him relatively free to do what he wanted while she was at work, making it possible for him to drop by his girlfriend’s house when he felt like it…

I don’t want that!

Euphemia chucked her empty suitcase deep into the back of the closet with enough force to put a professional basketball player to shame. A loud ker-thwack echoed through the empty room.

I absolutely don’t want him to do that!

But Zelaide had a right to his privacy. He had the authority to restrict her actions, but she couldn’t meddle in his business. Probably.

Euphemia knew it—she was starting to fall for him.

Men had confessed their feelings to her many times. She tried dating some of them out of curiosity, but the majority were only attracted to her looks and immediately sought physical intimacy the second she showed any special regard for them. The one time she tried a physical relationship with the most decent seeming guy, she completely lost interest.

Ever since, she quickly shot down any member of the opposite sex and took care to distance herself from all who felt untrustworthy. In return, men viewed her as a stuck-up prude, while women wrote her off as an insufferable slut who burned through men like tissue, resulting in malicious bullying from both sides.

Thus, Euphemia’s experience in the love department wasn’t as rich as her appearance led people to believe. Her experience with relationships was so lacking it was safe to say she had barely any friends her age, much less a boyfriend.

Her friend, the police officer Wei who’d provided her with information a week ago, was the sole exception to the rule. She couldn’t see him as a potential love interest and had graciously turned him down when he confessed to her, but the lighthearted and honest Wei had insisted that he didn’t mind staying just friends. That made him one of Euphemia’s few, cherished good friends, who had stuck around. It was just like her not to realize the heartbreaking position that put Wei in whenever they were together.

In that sense, while Euphemia’s dating experience wasn’t much to write home about, her experience wasn’t so lacking that she couldn’t figure out her own feelings. She wanted to know about Zelaide, to a fault, and found it unbearable not to see him when she wanted to—the signs of a budding love.

But while a person was free to fall in love with anyone, a relationship took two. So from here it was a battle of charm, effort, and willpower.

Euphemia heard something bump against the window while she plotted how to win him over. She lifted her head and saw the bird-shaped Muta from earlier perched on the window frame. Tipsilox were a nocturnal species, but it appeared this one became active around sunset.

“You’re…Tipsy, right? Are you heading out for a meal?” she asked the Muta.

She couldn’t imagine Zelaide buying pet food and feeding the carnivore out of a bowl, so she assumed it hunted for its own meals. Small as it was, a Muta was still a Muta. It probably preyed upon the rats and bats creeping about in the dark beneath the city’s deceptively clean surface.

When Euphemia took a step closer, Tipsy thrust its beak towards her and growled in warning. Yet, for all that posturing, he didn’t fly away but remained close to observe her. He was curious about her yet cautious. Bars were secured to the windows, but it was still possible to open the glass. She could crack the window and throw a cookie out for him. But Euphemia was smarter than that. She knew never to rush with a living creature one had no experience or familiarity with. Tipsy had simply come to check out the new addition to his territory. He’d eventually come to be friendlier with her once he realized she wasn’t a threat to him.

She was just getting her feet under her, but she was a biologist nevertheless. Proud animals needed more time to grow used to someone. But once they accepted a person, their trust wasn’t easily broken.

“I bet you’re just like your master,” Euphemia said quietly through the glass. Tipsy spread its thin wings and soared into the darkening sky in a matter of seconds.

Indeed, Zelaide, like Tipsy, wasn’t the type to appreciate being kept or fettered. He and Euphemia were still little more than strangers. He was welcome to be cautious and intimidating around her—she would win him over in due time.

He can meet his lover if he has one (though I hate the idea of it), Euphemia seriously thought to herself. But I wish he would pay me a little attention too—er, I mean, I’ll work hard for him to take an interest in me too! I have three whole months to make it happen!

From what she had seen, Zelaide didn’t think too fondly of her. Or perhaps, more than it being a problem with her, he just didn’t like humans. But he was the type to see a job through. She already knew he wasn’t a bad guy. He possessed his own form of kindness.

With that said, there isn’t much hope for these feelings. Still, if the chance isn’t zero, then I’ll regret it less if I take action rather than let the opportunity slip by. And the time is now. This is a time when you just have to go for it. Like how the same tedious experiment that appears impossible at first can produce results after running it a hundred times. All right, with that decided, I’ll study since I have no other obligations at the moment.

Euphemia picked up an academic book and began reviewing past data on the cross-fertilization of Night Blooms to make up for the unexpected time she had taken off work.

Research into the endemic Night Bloom species didn’t date back far. The endemic plant species had transformed from beautiful flowers into a dangerous temptation around the time the processes of colonization and exploration had evolved into developing a new culture and civilization, unique from the other colonies. Current research stated the discovery and spread of Night Blooms as a powerful narcotic had only happened over the last few decades. The use of it as a narcotic had spread fast and wide, becoming deeply entrenched on this planet and beyond. People only began to recognize the dangers once the slow yet ever-growing dark shadow it cast on the forward progress of the pioneering colony was conspicuous.

The Night Bloom flower was breathtaking on the one night it bloomed a year, but the narcotic extracted from its pulverized seeds, Nightz, undeniably played a role in bringing great misery to the people on this planet. Minimizing the damage Nightz caused was only one of the many jobs undertaken by researchers like Euphemia.

Euphemia didn’t voice it often, but she deeply respected her older sister Erica and loved her more than anyone else. She believed reducing the harm of Nightz was the one thing she could do for her sister’s noble cause, considering she couldn’t bring much to the table otherwise. While research into Night Blooms was proceeding slowly, they were making progress nonetheless. Researchers had succeeded in developing a drug to counteract strong dependence the narcotic induced, initiating comprehensive selective breeding to reduce the toxicity and number of seeds, and discovering a natural enemy to the flower in a certain species of mold. Incidentally, Euphemia’s laboratory specialized in research of the latter.

“How many times have I reread this same paper…?”

The crowning achievement of the last few years was the success in breeding a Night Bloom strain nearly incapable of producing seeds. Euphemia was reading the thesis Maurice DeLay had published on the topic last year.

Under normal circumstances, tiny seeds formed inside the fruit the plant produced following the shedding of its flower petals. Distributing a strain of Night Blooms with fewer seeds would have major effects on the narcotic industry, which manufactured Nightz by pulverizing the seeds and refining the subsequent milky liquid into a highly addictive narcotic.

However, the new strain with limited seeds was still in its infant stages. Eradicating the indigenous strain of Night Bloom growing throughout the Wilds was thus impossible, with the finite numbers of the new strain. The science still had long ways to go, but Dr. DeLay’s research from Romanesque City was the most advanced and up to date.

Naturally, the eradication and suppression of Nightz required the work of not only scholars, but the police force and military as well.

At present, cases of authorities burning down hidden cultivation fields, cracking down on the circulation of seeds and Nightz, and arresting growers and dealers came to public attention at least once every month. As a matter of fact, these methods were expedient, practical, and easier for the public to comprehend. But merely combating criminals and the immediate danger wouldn’t rid the world of the deep-rooted Nightz and the destruction it wrought.

Their straightforward, steady approach to research is smart. I wouldn’t have thought to plant the seeds in an ice nursery for an experiment. Euphemia enthusiastically dissected the thesis paper.

The fruits of effort lay not only in the results, but also the process itself. Which meant the saying, “There’s no such thing as wasted effort,” was true. Euphemia loved thinking that way.

On the other hand, she had no idea what her experiment in love would entail.

†††

“‘I’LL be waiting for you… Okay?’ she says?! Dammit!” Zelaide exclaimed from the other room. He threw his brawny body onto his gigantic bed. He was angry to the point of feeling sick.

What’s goin’ through that fancy girl’s head when she says stuff like that?! She’s an idiot. I knew it before, but she’s dangerously stupid for somebody so smart. Why would she say that when she knows I’m a Beast Blood? …But even if she’s dumb in common sense, she’s still a biologist. Maybe she’s just curious ‘bout Beast Bloods as a species? That’s just as bad…

Zelaide groaned. Just her presence made his body temperature skyrocket and his breathing grow shallow. In other words, his reactions were—

Just irrational male impulses!

With his hatred of women, Zelaide strove to avoid touching the opposite sex as much as possible. He lived free of lust’s trap outside of taking care of his physiological needs.

So why the hell am I havin’ this freakin’ issue now?

She must never notice. Zelaide clenched his fists. This sheltered young lady was under a fanciful misunderstanding after he’d rescued her from the arms of danger. The event had fed into the fantasies harbored by women of her age and stature; she viewed him as one of those invincible heroes from the old world movies. There was no other believable reason for a pretty woman to want to become friends with a Beast Blood.

But what ‘bout in reality?

Zelaide laughed mockingly at himself. Beneath his sour expression, he’d desperately struggled to endure his desire to pull her slim waist up against him. A desire he now needed to suppress for three full months. He had to protect her from his filthy, wild male impulses.

It’s hopeless. I’d better get in touch with Manuela while the girl’s at work.

Manuela worked as a Beast Blood prostitute and she was the only woman Zelaide had sexual relations with. He figured she’d dispel his temporary delusions without having to think about it.

I accepted the job. I have to protect her through to the end. From her enemies…and myself.

Zelaide gritted his teeth as he stared at the sterile ceiling.

†††

THE following day, Euphemia commuted to the laboratory on the city outskirts in Zelaide’s car. His car was granted permission through the research institute’s first gate located directly off the freeway ramp, letting him drop Euphemia off on the premises in front of the second gate erected outside of each individual laboratory sector.

Only a few select people were permitted through the second gate, so this method was less conspicuous. She could enter the building without drawing much attention if he dropped her off in a less used area and she chose her walkway correctly.

Unfortunately for Euphemia, luck wasn’t on her side today.

Sonia Marcell, Euphemia’s coworker from the same lab, spotted Euphemia getting out of the car upon exiting their building after working the nightshift. Sonia’s curiosity exploded over the handsome man she briefly spotted in the driver’s seat in the few seconds it took Euphemia to shut her door.

Sonia pulled Euphemia aside and unleashed a waterfall of questions. “Hey, Mia! Who in the world is that hunk? Your boyfriend? Why did you come together? Did you spend the night with him?”

“Good morning, Sonia. No good morning for me before the inquisition? Weren’t you on your way home? And what are you doing coming out the back door, when you left from the front entrance every other day?”

“What door I leave from is up to my discretion. I just felt like going out the back,” Sonia sassed, skillfully evading Euphemia’s reverse prying. “What’s the big deal? How about we get a coffee right now? I’ll treat you! So spill!”

Sonia was a different kind of blonde bombshell from Euphemia with her model-worthy height and ample curves. She joined the same lab two years before Euphemia, granting her the senior position.

Blegh. Euphemia swallowed her agitated sigh.

Sonia was normally the uncommitted type who went right home after getting off nightshift. For all her skill as a researcher, she was equally arrogant and confident. Euphemia had always found herself thoroughly despised by women like Sonia.

Reluctant to make an enemy of Sonia by dismissing her offer, Euphemia decided to join her for a cup of coffee at the automatic café that was open all day, every day. She chose an ice coffee perfect for quickly finishing off.

“So, who’s the hottie?” Sonia cut right to the chase, leaning expectantly close.

“Someone whose care I’ve been put under due to family circumstances.”

I’m not lying, Euphemia thought as she came up with evasive answers.

“Interesting. What’s your relationship? Oh yeah, you took yesterday off work. Is he the reason why?”

“He’s why, but…our relationship is more of the employer and employee type…I guess?” Euphemia went with an honest answer. “We’re living together to make things more convenient for us both. You have your answer. Don’t ask any more.”

The unyielding statement seemed to annoy Sonia. Euphemia didn’t let it bother her as she downed her ice coffee in one go. Sensing Euphemia was about to leave, Sonia moved in for the kill.

“To be clear, he’s not your boyfriend or boytoy, right?”

“He is not. But don’t even try. He hates that kind of thing!” Euphemia emphasized, her tone overly defiant and defensive. Times like this really made her hate how rash she could be; it was practically guaranteed Sonia would harass her now.

Thinking she had to get out of there soon, Euphemia said, “Thanks for the coffee,” and left her seat, but Sonia chased her down the long hallway.

“Hmph. I don’t get what you mean, so not my problem. If he’s not yours, mind introducing me to him? He wouldn’t mind me hitting on him if you set us up, right?”

“I will not. Or more like, I can’t. I don’t want to meddle in his life like that, and I promised I wouldn’t. Zel and I decided on that together.”

“His name is Zel? Weird name.”

“Seems like it’s a nickname,” Euphemia admitted, feeling like she had a slight advantage over Sonia. Seconds after saying it, however, she immediately started hating herself for it. She wasn’t forbidden from bringing him up, and she’d only mentioned his nickname, but she still felt horrible for exposing Zelaide’s name right off the bat.

“Cool. What’s his real name?”

“Don’t know,” Euphemia said, careful not to let the lie show on her face—she was a bad liar.

“Someone’s on the defensive. Are you that worried I’ll steal him from under your nose?” Sonia taunted.

“I honestly don’t know.”

All I know about him is his name and species, Euphemia lamented internally.

“I’m free to strike up a conversation with him on my own time even if you won’t introduce him to me, yeah?”

“…What?” What was she getting at?

Someone patted Euphemia on the shoulder while she was trying to come up with a way to fend off the all-too-aggressive Sonia.

“Good morning, you two.”

It was their coworker from the same year as Sonia, Ronaldo Garcia. Already dressed in casual attire, he seemed to have just come off his shift too.

“Oh, it’s you, Ron. Good morning,” Sonia greeted him with a wave of the hand.

“Sonia, you’re one scary woman with how eager you are to wage war in the morning. Why don’t you save the battle for another day and hurry home? Don’t you usually race home without looking back?”

“Are you picking a fight with me, Ron? I just decided to go home after taking a nap today.”

“Your boyfriend isn’t picking you up today? Weren’t you always excited for him to pick you up? Oh, wait, that stopped recently, didn’t it?” Ron said, casually getting in a jab.

“I was not. Leave me alone!”

“Sorry if I poked a sore spot. So, back to what you were talking about—is it true? I’d be in a real bind if a cutie like Mia got herself a boyfriend.”

“Good for you then. She says he’s not her boyfriend.”

“Mia, is that true?” Ron looked over his shoulder to ask Euphemia, but she was long gone. “Oops, she’s gone. Wow, she left so fast you can see skid marks on the floor. Sucks for you, Sonia.”

“Shut up, would you?!” Sonia watched Euphemia zoom down the hallway feeling vexed she had lost her chance.

†††

VARIOUS research facilities and testing sites were scattered throughout the sector secured by the massive first gate. Second gates surrounded other large zones of varying sizes, located vast distances from each other for security purposes. Euphemia and those from her laboratory worked within the Applied Plant and Animal Research Laboratory behind one such second gate.

The interior of the structure was divided by specialty field, with long corridors connecting each section. One side of these corridors was equipped with a moving walkway, but Euphemia rarely used them. She watched two of her coworkers step on one and quickly pass her by as she hurried down the side of the corridor reserved for walking.

Sonia is crazy. She always gets like this when she spots a good-looking man. She makes me sick.

Although they were researchers by trade, few people dedicated their lives to their research like the professional researchers of millennia past, who had made colonization possible. The younger generations were comparatively uninhibited, with many performing perfunctory motions during work, just to rush home the moment their hours were over. Quite a few of the young male researchers invited Euphemia to dinner through superficial attraction, and almost as many female colleagues loathed her for it. Both the men and women at work were extremely annoying; all she wanted to do was keep a fine line between her work life and private life.

Her brain finally swapped modes once she changed into her research top and bottom and pulled her cap on. Obviously, her specs were on too. She briefly thought about how she wished Zelaide could see her dressed like the scientist she was.

I might not look dumb dressed like this. I wonder where he’s headed right now. Nothing would come of mulling over it, so Euphemia headed for her lab. Her coworkers were already busily going about their work.

“Good morning,” Kreutz Burhardt, the laboratory director, immediately greeted when she came into view. He earned a name in the lab for his keen sense that allowed him to correctly guess a person’s identity even when they walked up behind him.

“Good morning, Director Burhardt. I’m sorry for suddenly taking the day off yesterday.”

“Don’t be. It’s all good. I was informed in advance. I haven’t heard the details, but it sounded like you were in quite the predicament.”

“Yes, you could say that…” Euphemia wasn’t sure how to answer him. She was horrible at deceiving people. Concern filled Burhardt’s light-brown eyes. He seemed truly worried for her.

“A beautiful young lady such as yourself needs to be especially careful.”

“I don’t have to be as careful as my sister, at least. I’m normal compared to her.”

The only people who knew she was the mayor’s younger sister were the president of the entire Municipal Biotechnology Research Institute, President Murakami, and her direct supervisor, Director Burhardt. Murakami had been entrusted with Euphemia by Erica and assigned her to her desired department.

Overseeing the laboratory she worked for was the talented and competent Burhardt, the man rumored to be the next institute president. Burhardt specialized in fungi as a researcher, but he currently managed the Applied Plant and Animal Research Laboratory as laboratory director. Euphemia strongly requested this department because it researched both animals and plants. She believed she was steadily proving herself, though she’d indeed received some special treatment in the beginning.

“Hahaha! I can’t say you’re wrong. But be careful. Bad guys are everywhere these days. They’ll target you, and not just because of your sister,” Burhardt lowered his voice to a whisper. “I heard you were attacked by some thugs. Is that true?”

Euphemia was considerably shocked he knew that much. Did Erica tell him?

“Did you hear about it from my sister?” she asked.

“Indirectly and briefly. But you know, I was shocked when I realized you had suddenly disappeared that night and later learned from someone else that you’d already gone home. Didn’t you put in the request to use the on-site lodging? I was relieved to hear you were safe, but you worried me sick.”

After observing Night Blooms flower that night, Euphemia’s excitement and awe had made her too restless to sit still, so she pretended to return to the lodgings and instead took off in her car for home. She hadn’t thought anyone would pay any attention to her.

She didn’t know Burhardt realized she left. The fact she’d been attacked was supposed to be a classified secret off the record.

“I’m sorry… Are you also aware someone will be dropping me off and picking me up from work from now on?”

“Yes. You’re talking about your bodyguard, correct? Someone trustworthy, I hope?”

“Yes, very much so.”

“I see… But be very careful.”

“I will. Thank you. I have been reflecting on how careless I was. But I have him protecting me now, so I should be fine,” Euphemia told him, her voice firm. Burhardt’s grim expression didn’t lighten.

“You trust people too easy.” He shook his head and placed his hand on her shoulder. His hand was very warm, and Euphemia felt that it conveyed how greatly he cared for her and their workplace. “But he must be an incredibly reliable person for that sister of yours to accept him… How long will he be with you for?”

“Three months, for now. Apparently he’s a very famous and capable bodyguard. He will come to take me home, too.”

“Three months, eh? You should be safe then. Introduce me to him sometime.”

“You’re the second person to ask me that today,” Euphemia said with a shrug.

†††

EVERY morning thereafter, the silver car escorting Euphemia to and from work was found on the roads inside the institute premises. Watching Euphemia casually wave her hand at the driver’s seat before walking into her building was gradually becoming Zelaide’s daily routine. She gracefully walked away with her shoulders back and her head held high each time, leaving Zelaide to wonder what magic trick she used to keep her long hair wrapped in a tight bun at the back of her head.

“Hmph. You like to act like a full-fledged career woman, don’t you, princess?” Zelaide snorted on the other side of his black-tinted windows.

I don’t think there’s much goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours though.

Zelaide didn’t have any other requirements to fulfill once Euphemia went to work. His activities and any other jobs he took to earn some extra cash were up to him. Though his first priority was always to drive away before the foot traffic increased. A young researcher had given him a funny look not too long ago. Zelaide started his car and passed through the first gate back onto the freeway.

His contract with Erica stipulated he guaranteed Euphemia’s safety outside of her work hours, but he was otherwise unfettered while she worked. The contract included several minor clauses, but that was the primary condition. She normally worked during the day, which reduced the potential danger, even for working at a facility on the city outskirts beyond the wall. In addition, the security of the Municipal Biotechnology Research Institute, one of the most important scientific facilities on the planet, fell under Gothic City’s responsibility. Military facilities and bases were built nearby to double down on the security.

So Zelaide drove back to Gothic City. He used voice commands to control the IHT installed in his dashboard while he steered the car.

“It’s me, Manuela,” Zelaide spoke into the microphone installed in his steering wheel without glancing at the picture of the person who popped up on the screen.

“Hi, dollface!” a husky voice with a honeyed lilt answered him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard from you, Zel. You’ve left me without your pleasure for far too long. What have you been up to lately?”

“Can you come to the usual spot right now?” Zelaide cut straight to the point without humoring the small talk.

“At this hour of the morning? Are you on the way back from a bloody job? …All right, I don’t mind. I have an opening.” The professional woman that she was, Manuela didn’t pry or balk at his demands.

“I’ll be there in ten,” Zelaide answered, his voice clinical as he stepped on the gas.

†††

THREE days had passed since Euphemia started living with Zelaide.

“Thank goodness, the workday is done and over!” Euphemia praised herself for another job well done.

Euphemia’s specific laboratory was conducting research into preventing the spread of Night Blooms, the deadly source of the narcotic Nightz. Destroying the harmful plant’s natural habitat, such as by sabotaging the soil and sunlight, was most effective in hindering growth, but applying the method on a wide-scale was easier said than done.

Researchers had theorized that destroying their ecological niche artificially with fungi or drugs would have a considerable effect, but heedlessly spreading drugs or micro-organic pathogens in the wild ran serious risks of affecting other plants, animals, farms, and subsequently humans. Hence, it was imperative for researchers to proceed with caution when introducing anything new to the open environment. Furthermore, no one really knew for sure how the Wilds might mutate something.

Several laboratories within the Municipal Biotechnology Research Institute worked with Night Blooms, but Euphemia’s laboratory researched organisms practical for developing widespread countermeasures against Night Blooms, ranging from fungi to insects and animals. Put simply, they focused on the discovery and rearing of plants and animals that could eat Night Blooms as their primary source of food.

Euphemia was primarily responsible for rodent research.

Her major in university had been practical botany, but she loved animals just as much. That made this laboratory a perfect fit for her, because it allowed her to research both Night Blooms and animals that would be beneficial for Night Bloom extermination. Euphemia had already experimented with several rat and squirrel species, but she’d yet to discover a rodent that would happily choose to eat the Night Bloom seeds with their low nutritional values. It’d be one thing if there was no other food available in the wild, but it was hard to develop a natural predator to Night Blooms when plenty of other, more nutritious food sources were available.

Euphemia did have one hope—a species of Mongolian gerbil extinct in the wild but bred inside laboratories. She handled the adults. They were so fragile and tiny that five of them fit on her palm, but their teeth were sharp and they greedily devoured seeds. Euphemia’s research goal was to breed the Mongolian gerbils, which weren’t an indigenous species to this planet, and raise them with Night Bloom seeds as their staple diet. Doing so, she believed, could shine the first real light on the dark calamity brought about by Nightz.

The real impediment to her research was the low reproduction rate of Mongolian gerbils compared to other rodents. Furthermore, since they were a valuable species barred from being taken outside the laboratory, Euphemia was forced to constantly obtain permission and repeat contained experiments, all without successfully proving her theory. Regardless, she worked on her personal research alongside her other lab work.

Every morning, Euphemia began her day by peering into the cage containing the ten Mongolian gerbils she was given permission to work with.

“Good, you’re eating. Is it tasty?”

The gerbils consumed Night Bloom seeds with a vigorous appetite. Skillfully snapping open the shell, they pulled out the inner meat and munched through it with blinding speed. Would these adorable gerbils also ignore the innutritious Night Bloom seeds if more delicious nuts were available to them? The theory couldn’t be proved one way or another without releasing them into the wild for observation. In any case, rodents were creatures that couldn’t live without having something to munch on.

I’ll try asking Director Burhardt for permission to conduct an experiment in an outdoor farm again. I think they present a much lower risk than Nightz, provided they don’t cause a massive disturbance to the local ecosystem.

Euphemia held on to hope even as her shoulders sagged with the miserable thought of the mountain of data and experimental evidence she needed to justify a permit for conducting experiments outdoors.

†††

“WHAT’S with the parade?” Zelaide growled, annoyed to see three young women lined up beside Euphemia.

They all stared with rapt attention at the man who looked like he had walked right off the pages of a wild photoshoot for a women’s magazine. His gravelly voice sent shivers down their spines. Heading up the group was Sonia. Lately she had given up her habit of going straight home to stalk Euphemia when she was about to leave. Euphemia usually shook off her pursuit, but had been firmly ensnared today because Sonia had gained the support of their other coworkers.

“I’m so sorry. I told them not to, but they followed me anyway.”

The second gate, which usually had very few people accessing it, now bustled with single women. Zel seemed unfazed standing before them.

“I see… Let’s go,” he said.

“Hey, didn’t you say you’d introduce us?” Sonia piped up, her voice effervescent.

“I said nothing of the sort!” Euphemia objected.

“Oh, really now? Forget it, I can introduce myself. Hey there, Zel. I’m Sonia,” she purred, drawing out the sound of the name she’d shrewdly remembered from Euphemia’s slip-up.

Sonia had changed from her casual work attire into a sexy outfit. She must’ve had her locker stocked with clothes for different occasions. Although she wore a coat over the little black dress that didn’t reach her knees and had a low neckline, she boldly pushed it aside the moment she caught Zelaide glancing her way to show off the curves she took pride in.

Zelaide’s attitude didn’t change. He tipped his head to her once and swiftly turned his back on her.

“I see. Bye,” he said dismissively.

Sonia wasn’t going to give up that easily. Undaunted, she walked right beside Zelaide as he urged Euphemia to the car, sidling up to his opposite shoulder.

“Wait. Your relationship with Mia is just business, right? How about dinner with me after you drop Mia off?”

“I want to join you too,” another female coworker joined in.

“How about we all go together then? Isn’t it tough for you to handle three women at once?” said Ronaldo Garcia, stepping out of the shadows. Ronaldo had a talent for appearing out of thin air. He slipped shamelessly in between the group women.

Euphemia was at her wits’ end.

“What? You guys didn’t run this by me first! You’re really putting me on the spot,” she protested.

“You can go if you want to. I hate eating out,” Zelaide shot them down. “Hurry up.”

“Um, okay…” Euphemia mumbled before a tiny cry escaped her lips.

Ronaldo had put his hand on Euphemia’s shoulder, pulling her towards him as she was hurrying away to keep up with Zelaide’s large strides. Zelaide spun right around at the sound of Euphemia’s small cry. The type to easily get carried away, Ronaldo wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“…You…” Zelaide growled.

“Now, now, boyfriend. Don’t glare at me like I’m on your hit list…. Oh, and my name is Ronaldo. I’m Mia’s coworker—the one she calls Ron. Should I just call you Zel? Zelly? Can you clear something up for me? You aren’t dating Mia, right?”

Euphemia panicked when Zelaide shot her a dirty look. “No! Don’t get the wrong idea! I haven’t said anything! They all got curious about you when they saw your car!”

“And that’s why we’re inviting you out for a drink, to satiate our curiosity.”

Zelaide glowered unhappily at the man pressing up close to Euphemia from behind. Ronaldo was tall and young, though he looked small next to Zelaide. Their physiques were completely different; Ronaldo had a researcher’s body, while Zelaide possessed the well-defined muscles associated with his job. But the sociable Ronaldo didn’t seem the least bit put off by the fact Zelaide could break him in half.

“I won’t go. Don’t use me to fill in your free time. We’re—I mean, I’m a busy person. Ok, we’re goin’ home for real now. Don’t try to stop us again. If you want to grab a drink, come up with the time and place in advance and I might consider going. Bye,” Zelaide said sharply over his shoulder, grabbing Euphemia’s wrist and pulling her away from Ronaldo’s grasp.

“Whoa!” she exclaimed.

“See you next time, Zel! You must join us next time!” Sonia called after him.

“Mia! I’ll send you a D-com later!” Ronaldo shouted.

They called out to the two departing backs as a last resort, their desire to get involved incorrigible.

†††

“IS this research facility always like that?” Zelaide asked Euphemia.

“Like what?”

“Treating people like rare animals.”

“No, umm…” Euphemia fumbled with her words. In one sense, he wasn’t too different from a rare animal, but she refrained from saying as much. He drove the car comfortably down the empty freeway. The dusk sky spreading behind Gothic City was breathtaking.

“Everyone came to check you out because you’re stunning, Zel. Most of the people working there are what you can call research maniacs or geeks, and the majority don’t have any normal friends outside their coworkers. Like me. Sonia might be a different story though.”

“Definitely seemed like a gathering of oddballs to me. Especially that man. He looks like the player type, throwin’ himself all over you like that. Guys like him spill secrets like a leaky faucet. Be careful not to let him in on anything.”

“Will do. For the record, I hate Ron. He’s not a bad worker, but he always follows me around and he’s super clingy. He’ll hit on anyone as long as they’re female. He’s a pig.” Euphemia pursed her lips to check her indignation.

Zelaide felt like Euphemia, who shouldn’t have known anything about the acts he committed earlier, had seen right through to his shameful side. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable. He restlessly twitched in the driver’s seat, adjusting himself into a different sitting position.

After dropping Euphemia off in the morning, he’d gone straight to the high-class Beast Blood prostitute Manuela, quickly satiated his lust, and immediately left.

He only committed the act necessary to vent his sexual desires, without the sweet-smelling oils and the alcohols meant to awaken his carnal urges. Even without the extras, touching a woman’s soft, warm skin for the first time in a long time and ejaculating the heaviness building up inside had helped to lighten the weight on him.

Manuela had skillfully guided him to climax in a way only a professional could. She hadn’t asked any questions or said anything unnecessary; she knew he only used her as a way to vent his pent-up sexual cravings. Zel was grateful for that, and once he’d paid her, he washed his body clean—he hated having another’s smell on him.

But as he walked through the district with chic rentals, he realized that while the pent-up frustration inside him dissipated, the weight on his heart and mind had grown ten times heavier. And he had rushed to town after coming to the conclusion that he’d feel better after satiating his sexual desires, too.

Damn it! I’m such a filthy sleazebag!

Wanting to at least get some work done after his rendezvous, Zelaide had headed for the Uptown district where Vermi, members of Vermis, gathered to drink and party in the middle of the day. All throughout the afternoon, he went around gathering information on the man who died and criminals dealing in dangerous Muta.

He shouldn’t feel guilty for doing what was practical physically. He didn’t need to worry about the young woman he was protecting catching on, and even if she did, there was nothing for him to be ashamed of. Or so he kept telling himself, but it did no good to erase the disgust roiling through him.

Wait, why do I even care what she thinks?! I haven’t done anythin’ wrong. Right?

“What’s wrong?” Euphemia asked as they pulled into the driveway. She was curious as to why Zelaide fell silent.

The gates detected the signal emitted from his car and opened without a sound. The IHT screen within the dashboard flicked on with the security system’s camera feeds from inside and outside the house.

“Your security system amazes me every time…” Euphemia marveled.

“It’s a good one. I never used it until now, since it wasn’t necessary for just me.” Zelaide watched the moving footage on the screen flickering with small lights, confirming no one had invaded the house or dropped something suspicious off while they were out. “…Everything looks clear.”

It was quite the spectacle to watch the high-tech car drive through the heavy, outdated doors that opened soundlessly. The sun was still high in the sky. Zelaide quickly disappeared somewhere after parking his car, so Euphemia headed to the kitchen for a cup of tea, when she came across two large boxes left on the floor.

“…This isn’t something suspicious?” she asked, surprised to find boxes inside for the first time since living there. Someone had come inside while they were away.

“Yeah. That’s food,” Zelaide answered, appearing behind Euphemia without her noticing.

Euphemia had polished off all the food he had lying around the house and the food they’d gone out to buy together.

“It’d be a pain to buy food every day, so I arranged it with Pal to have food brought here for you. There’s probably food you can eat as-is and food you’ll have to prepare to eat. Use what you want and throw away what you don’t.”

“Nice.” Euphemia hummed.

By prepare, he meant food she needed to cook. Driven by her curiosity, Euphemia opened the refrigerated boxes and found pre-prepared food and lots of ingredients inside. Seasonings, spices, and condiments were included as well. A variety of cookware, such as pots and pans, filled a different box. Euphemia didn’t cook much, but she felt like her dignity as a woman was on the line if she didn’t make something after having everything perfectly prepared for her. She knew it was old-fashioned thinking, but it didn’t stop her from feeling that way all the same.

I can’t screw it up too bad if I make a stew…I hope.

Anyone should be capable of chopping up meat and vegetables and boiling it in a broth, and Euphemia had experience making the tomato flavored stew Mrs. Mayo had walked her through before. Hoping Zelaide might eat with her, she turned around with a smile on her face, but he was gone already. He had left as suddenly as he came; he only appeared to inform her about the food.

Grr! I won’t lose! I’ll get right to work after I take a bath. I might be able to lure him out if the food smells amazing. Euphemia suddenly found herself wondering about his eating habits. But what does he normally do for food? He maintains an incredible physique, so he has to be eating something, but I’ve never seen him eat.

†††

“…I have to be careful.” Zelaide was lying back on his bed, the only piece of furniture in his massive bedroom. The heavy boots he had stripped off his feet lay on their sides on the floor.

He hadn’t furnished his room with anything other than the bed. He had no need for a dresser because he either tossed his dirty clothes or left them on the floor for Palmina to send out for cleaning. He showered in the morning and evening to remove the beastly scent, but he’d never filled the bathtub before.

Is Tipsy still asleep? It’s almost evening.

The tiny pterosaur hadn’t stopped by to see Zelaide yet. The spacious second-story was silent—except for one place.

Good hearing could sometimes pose a problem too. Zelaide could clearly hear Euphemia taking a bath in the bathroom down the hall. She seemed to have a habit of taking long baths, because he heard the bathtub filling with water and the sound of her washing her body and hair before submerging in it. Even heard her humming to herself. He seriously wanted to leave the house, but while his security system was flawless, he couldn’t leave her home alone when night was coming.

Zel wanted to hold his pillow over his face when he thought of the three months ahead of him. He was starting to think smoldering his lust with Manuela in the morning didn’t do him much good. Normally, he could keep his desires in check for a month at least after having sex once. Zelaide was so indifferent to having sex with women that Vulcan, his fellow Hunter and Beast Blood, worriedly asked if there was something wrong with him upon learning how long Zelaide could go without.

Damn it all! Don’t come out.

He shouldn’t close his eyes. His senses would only become sharper. Zelaide glared at the cornice molding on the cold ceiling, but it did nothing to stop his past from permeating his thoughts.

They were memories of a past from so long ago he barely remembered it.

His mother had been raped by human men in the middle of the street, then killed. It’d been the work of the secret society Infernum. Zelaide had watched the whole thing, from beginning to end, from his hiding spot behind the dumpsters. His mother had secured his escape by acting as bait. Her eyes met his the moment they killed her. It happened so long ago he couldn’t even remember what her face looked like, but the look in her eyes had burned into his mind and never left him.

Ever since that day, having sex with a woman out of lust and hatred became the biggest taboo within him. That’s why he kept physical interaction with women to the bare minimum. Zelaide wasn’t even capable of being kind or making them happy like Vulcan. He felt filthy for harboring any sexual desires toward a woman.

Since Beast Bloods lived longer than humans, they grew out of their innate aggression and destructive desires, a nature that made them even more alien to the colonists, and instead stabilized their mentality by paying prostitutes to pacify their bestial needs. But Zelaide had yet to come to terms with his sexual needs. Moreover, Euphemia appeared to him like a high-class lady with an immaculate soul. How dare he look at her with dirty thoughts?

She’s the kinda person who’d never get involved with a man like me under normal circumstances. And yet, look at the situation we find ourselves in. I don’t know how things will play out from here, but I know I’m a threat to her. That said, if I resign from this job, she’ll be preyed upon by even more savage, merciless men. And she’ll be easy prey at that. If our encounters are anythin’ to go by, I highly doubt she has the ability to protect herself. I’ve no choice but to continue being her guard.

This is humiliating.

Zelaide heard light footsteps when he rolled over in bed.

It sounded like Euphemia had gotten out of the bathtub and was skipping down the stairs. As he thought, she was humming away. She was ecstatic when she saw the boxes Palmina left for her, so she was probably going to cook something. The thought reminded Zelaide of his hunger and that he hadn’t had anything to eat since morning. Not just this morning either—he hadn’t eaten much the past few days.

Food’ll have to wait until after she falls asleep.

Zelaide was used to enduring his hunger; waiting wasn’t much of an issue for him. He’d be happy not to eat for another two to three days if it meant she wouldn’t have to see him lusting insatiably for her like a piece of meat.

It varied greatly depending on each individual, but meat made up a Beast Blood’s staple diet. They were also capable of eating intricately cooked meals, and those with a smaller percentage of Beast Blood in their genetics could even subsist on normal food. But Zelaide’s parents were both strong Beast Bloods, though he didn’t remember his father. In other words, he was a purebred Beast Blood. His instincts made him crave raw meat dripping with blood once every few days.

Palmina arranged for a fresh pack of meat to be sent by a vendor once every two days. He needed the meat sent to him fresh because it would lose all meaning to his instincts if it were refrigerated. Of course, now that he was living with Euphemia after accepting the mayor’s job request, he’d instructed Palmina to separate his food from hers and leave his box in the garage.

But this is odd, Zelaide thought. I’ve been unreasonably hungry ever since I got involved with that girl. I can’t stop wanting to sink my teeth into a hunk of meat.

He didn’t know if it was tied to his recent surge of sexual desire, but Zelaide was definitely starving for something.

That woman’s going to be the end of me. Dammit. Zelaide gave up and closed his eyes.

Just then, his senses were pierced by the sound of a tiny scream and the smell of blood.