* * *

“…Is this how I’m supposed to satisfy my hunger?”

Saewoo appeared in Jibeom’s dream.

He wore an irresistibly mischievous expression, planting a kiss on Jibeom’s lips and then pretending nothing had happened.

Surprised, yet amused, Jibeom wrapped his arms around Saewoo’s small frame, drawing him in for a deeper kiss.

Was that how birds were meant to be? So warm, so soft…

The little bird’s heartbeat was pounding fiercely, echoing loudly in Jibeom’s arms.

“Hm, hmm… hick…”

The scene shifted suddenly.

Now, a tiny bird—Saewoo—was before him, sobbing.

Someone had left him soaked, covered in traces of who-knew-whose saliva.

His small cries, once shrill, had grown hoarse, his weary whimpers trailing off weakly.

“Who did this? Who the hell did this to him?!”

Watching him in that state infuriated Jibeom.

He kicked the blanket lying beside him, taking out his anger on the soft, duck-feather comforter that Saewoo once adored.

Unable to contain himself, Jibeom dashed toward Saewoo, transforming into his black panther form and embracing the little bird, soaking wet and shivering.

Saewoo, who’d been weeping alone, gradually calmed down in Jibeom’s warmth.

“Hmph, see? A panther’s far better than some duck.”

Feeling a surge of satisfaction, Jibeom leaned in and gently licked Saewoo.

His soft, fluffy feathers brushed against Jibeom’s tongue, oddly sweet, though he couldn’t understand why.

It didn’t taste like candy, but he didn’t feel like stopping.

How long had he been licking him?

Snap!

Before he realized it, he’d put Saewoo in his mouth.

“Cheep…!”

Crunch.

“Gasp…!”

With a start, Jibeom awoke, drenched in a cold sweat.

Lying in bed, wide-eyed, he breathed heavily for a few moments.

“…Haah.”

Once he’d calmed down, Jibeom understood that he’d made a grave mistake in his dream.

“Damn… why was that dream so unsettling?”

He ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it into a mess.

The sensation of biting down on the tiny bird still lingered, occupying his thoughts.

With a thud, Jibeom got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom.

He brushed his teeth vigorously, even gargling afterward.

The uneasy sensation faded, though not entirely.

Returning to the bedroom, Jibeom opened the balcony door.

The faint glow of dusk settled between the densely packed buildings outside.

Though he’d only just woken up, the sun was already setting.

Jibeom had stayed up for the past two nights, finally catching some sleep this morning.

There had been far more tasks to handle than he’d anticipated—all connected to Saewoo, the little bird who’d appeared in his dream.

He wondered how Saewoo would react if he found out about everything.

That thought intrigued him deeply.

“…I miss him.”

Watching the fading red hues of the sunset, Jibeom murmured to himself.

The fiery crimson light reminded him of Saewoo’s crown, of his vibrant plumage.

It amused him to think that, if Saewoo’s beautiful colors ever disappeared, he’d probably be just as bothered as he was back when Saewoo’s feathers had patches missing.

Ding-dong.

At that moment, the doorbell rang.

Jibeom checked the time on the wall clock and opened the door.

“Ah! J-Jibeom, were you sleeping?”

“Yeah, I got some rest.”

Standing at the entrance was Sooha, wearing glasses, the same man from the last family meeting.

Nervous at Jibeom’s casual response, he stepped inside, holding out a tablet bag.

“Do you have the preparations ready?”

“Yes! Yes, I do! Here they are!”

Sooha pulled out a thick file of documents from his bag and handed it to Jibeom.

Frowning, Jibeom quickly flipped through each page.

“This is everyone on the list?”

“Yes? Yes, sir… that’s everyone living in that district.”

“It’s fewer than I expected.”

Jibeom’s gaze sharpened, clearly dissatisfied.

Sweating profusely, Sooha assured him it was everything.

“This is really all?”

“Y-Yes…?”

“As far as I know, at least 1,670 people live in that area. Of course, if you count those who’ve died or the vacant homes under someone’s name, the number would be smaller. But the documents you gave me only have 1,200 names. And there’s no record of any minors, right?”

“H-huh…!”

Sooha’s eyes widened in shock.

Jibeom knew exactly how many people should be listed, despite there being no numbering system on the documents.

Under time pressure, Sooha had omitted some families, listing only the heads of households, and Jibeom had caught on immediately.

‘Is he… a genius?’

If Jibeom hadn’t already known this information, he’d figured it out in mere moments.

Sooha, who’d worked with many sharp minds, had never encountered someone like this before.

Only now did he understand why even the chairman showed deference to Jibeom.

Thud!

“Redo it. Properly.”

“Yes, sir… I’m sorry, sir.”

Still, Jibeom didn’t blame Sooha openly.

He might’ve guessed the reason but knew it was pointless to argue.

Jibeom strode back to the bedroom, picked up his phone from the nightstand, and gazed at the now purplish evening sky before dialing a number.

“What’s taking so long to answer?”

It was Saewoo’s number.

Ever since he’d seen that crimson sunset, he’d wanted to hear Saewoo’s voice—or even go to him right away.

If Saewoo didn’t answer after three more rings, he would do just that.

Click.

The call connected, and Jibeom’s lips curled into a smile.

“Hey, why’d you take so long to—”

-Is this Jinho?

“What…?”

The voice wasn’t Saewoo’s.

Confused, Jibeom checked the number again—it was definitely Saewoo’s.

The voice on the other end continued talking.

-…Dear, that rascal Saewoo left in a hurry, said he was busy.

The voice was familiar, with a thick accent, like the old lady who ran the food stall they frequented.

-And he left his phone here. Good timing, though… Jinho, you—

“What? Saewoo’s missing?!”

At first, he assumed Saewoo had just forgotten his phone.

But the word “missing” made Jibeom’s eyes flash with intensity.

-H-Huh? Who is this?! You’re not Jinho, are you?

“When and where did he disappear?!”

Ignoring her confusion, Jibeom barked the question, demanding details on where and when Saewoo had vanished.

Flustered and stammering, the old woman ended up hanging up in a panic.

“What?! Hey!”

“Sir?!”

Jibeom shouted in frustration at his phone, which had suddenly disconnected without warning, then stormed off, grabbing his jacket.

“Damn it… Who the hell dares…!”

It seemed his restless dreams hadn’t been a mere coincidence.

---

“So… because of a genetic condition… all your teeth…?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Saewoo headed to a nearby café with a tiger-like shifter who had no teeth.

Before Saewoo could even ask, the tiger shifter began explaining his situation: due to a hereditary disease, he’d lost his teeth one by one from a young age, and by twenty-three, they were all gone.

No wonder his speech sounded so lisped.

“But my pronunciation’s not bad, right? I mean, except for ‘ng’ sounds, I can manage fine. My dad had me practice a ton before I lost them all. Oh, and I’ll be getting new dentures this week. Hehe.”

“….”

Saewoo looked sympathetically at the tiger shifter’s innocent smile.

Although he hadn’t been in this body long, Saewoo had also gone through illness, so he understood the toll.

He felt a pang of heaviness thinking about the pain this young man must have endured.

The tiger shifter slid a flyer across the table to Saewoo.

“This is…?”

Saewoo’s eyes widened as he looked at the brightly colored flyer.

It was a gaudy, poorly-made rental advertisement featuring a picture of the building Saewoo had recently purchased.

The flyer’s centerpiece was a set of outrageous rental conditions, written in glaring red text.

[Tenant Conditions: Must have a certificate of vegetarianism, low reproductive capacity, and… no teeth.]

“What the—! Who in their right mind would make such ridiculous conditions?!”

Saewoo shot up from his seat, his face turning red with outrage.

* * *