As I nervously waited for Yo-hwa’s answer, an unexpected wave of melancholy crept over me.

Here I was, enjoying a hobby far beyond anything I ever experienced in my past life—no, in a completely different dimension altogether—and yet, I found myself tiptoeing around someone’s feelings. It felt a little... pathetic.

But let’s be honest. A life where I didn’t have to walk on eggshells—would I really choose that over one spent with our cute little companions like Cho, Hyang, and Bini?

Yeah, probably not.

What a cursed taste I have.

Why did I have to be reborn as Spicy Fabre?

Why couldn’t I have had a normal taste, like people who love fluffy animals?

Why did I end up falling for smooth, scaleless creatures?

Come to think of it... haven’t I had this exact thought before?

Just as I began to realize how often I circled back to the same reflection, I felt a tingling sensation on the top of my head.

Someone was watching me.

Lifting my head from its brooding slump, I found my gaze locking with Yo-hwa’s.

Of course—she had finished thinking, and was now staring right at me.

Was that... her answer?

Was it good?

Did she agree?

My thoughts scrambled in sequence—but the moment I saw the expression on her face, cold sweat began trickling down my back.

Yo-hwa was looking at me with a gaze as dry and emotionless as a lifeless object—expressionless, colorless, scentless. Just blank.

That lifeless stare chilled me to my core.

I couldn’t believe she was looking at me like that—like some inanimate thing.

When Yo-hwa had first transformed into Hwa-eun’s humanoid form, her pedipalps wore that exact same blank face.

But after spending so much time together, even if she didn’t show emotion with others, her expressions became far more vivid when she spoke with me.

Even her eyes conveyed feeling now.

But this... this was just like when we’d first met. A mannequin’s face. No soul behind it.

If Hwa-eun wore that look, I’d think it was some kind of reward—but Yo-hwa? No.

This was Yo-hwa’s face, right after I explained my idea.

A red warning light blinked in my brain. Everything else disappeared, and one single thought remained.

I’m screwed.

Totally, completely screwed.

There’s no way Yo-hwa, smart as she is, wouldn’t see through such a clumsy lie.

In fact, come to think of it, Yo-hwa might even be smarter than most humans.

Actually, she was smarter.

She could spin webs and move along them, calculating angles, distances, and weight distribution with precision. That implied a brain capable of complex spatial reasoning.

And here I was, trying to fool her with an excuse a grade-schooler wouldn’t buy, just because I was impatient to register Hwanji and Hwana.

You idiot.

I was sure my real intentions had been exposed.

Then, Yo-hwa let out a small sound.

Ki-sit?

It sounded like a question.

As if to say, "Is that really it?" or "Do you have anything else you’d like to say?"

The cold sweat on my back had now soaked through my shirt.

Wh-what do I do?

I wanted to scream at myself, but there was no escape. I'd seen this moment in anime in my previous life a hundred times.

This was the heroine’s final test—the moment where she offers you one last chance to come clean.

And while Yo-hwa wasn’t technically the “heroine,” she was definitely giving me that final chance.

If I stuck to the lie now, I couldn’t even imagine what would happen next.

So, in a panic, I threw my arms around her humanoid waist—the form modeled after Hwa-eun—and cried out:

“I-I’m sorry, Yo-hwa! I messed up! I saw Hwanji and Hwana, and I just couldn’t wait—I wanted to register them so bad! Sob!”

In the past, hugs and a quick apology usually smoothed things over. I could only pray she wouldn’t blow up at me.

Then... I felt it.

A soft pat on my head.

It wasn’t warm, but it was soft—Yo-hwa’s hand.

Ki-si-si.

Flinching like a puppy bracing for a scolding, I looked up to find her gently patting my head, wearing an expression that said, "Good job, dummy."

D-did I survive?

It felt like forgiveness.

And as I breathed a sigh of relief, another thought struck me:

Who’s training who, exactly?

Because at this point, it really felt like the roles of master and pet had been completely reversed.

This is my life, huh...

***

“I-I’m sorry, Yo-hwa! I messed up! I saw Hwanji and Hwana, and I just couldn’t wait—I wanted to register them so bad! Sob!”

Ki-si-si.

Seeing him apologize so earnestly, Yo-hwa reached out and patted So-ryong’s head.

Because... he was just so cute like this.

She’d been excited earlier when he’d secretly approached her and suggested they sneak off somewhere together.

But when they finally got here, he’d told her he was going to register someone else before her. Honestly? She was disappointed.

She didn’t fully understand what “registering” meant, but she had been promised that she would be next. And from what Cho, Hyang, and Bini had said, registering allowed them to talk with So-ryong through thoughts.

The three of them had mentioned that they now communicated with him directly through the mental link.

Sometimes, Yo-hwa found it frustrating not being able to speak properly. She wanted that too.

But her disappointment didn’t last long.

She realized that So-ryong had brought her here specifically to explain, so as not to hurt her feelings.

He could’ve just done it in secret—but he didn’t. He brought her here and took the time to talk to her properly.

That alone made her happy.

She already knew all his excuses were lies.

Wasn’t he always like this whenever he saw a new spirit beast?

She already knew how much he wanted to register other companions, and honestly... it was kind of adorable.

So Yo-hwa decided she would let him register the others first.

He was just trying his best, after all.

But still... she had been a little hurt.

Which was probably why she forgot to animate her humanoid expression.

Shifting part of her body into human form was easy, but adding expressions? That required concentration—and she'd momentarily forgotten.

And then, So-ryong broke down and cried, clearly overwhelmed with guilt.

Having spent enough time around humans, Yo-hwa now understood what that kind of crying meant.

It meant he truly felt bad.

That he regretted lying.

“I’ll never lie to you again, Yo-hwa. I swear.”

Ki-sit.

As his apology continued, Yo-hwa found herself smiling without realizing it. She quickly replaced it with a “good job” expression.

That seemed like the right move for now.

***

After I promised never to lie again and returned to the abandoned temple, I spotted Lady Seol beneath a massive vine, wiping down the children.

I’d cleaned them up just yesterday, but apparently they’d gotten filthy again—so Lady Seol had taken it upon herself.

“Alright, Cho’s done. Bini, want me to clean you next?”

Tssrrt.

This area around the temple was all forest, but the soil was... peculiar.

It was a layer of red, fine dust—beautiful but loose—which kicked up easily with every step.

Apparently, much of northeastern India was like this. Even the slightest movement coated you in dust, so the kids needed to be washed frequently.

The lizard-type ones—Seol, Bing, Dong—were more or less immune to dirt. Same went for the snakes, like Lady Cheong-yu, Yeondu, and Orange.

After all, both reptiles and snakes have hydrophobic skin, thanks to tiny grooves and microstructures on the surface.

But the dust here was fine enough to cling even to their specially adapted bodies.

As I approached, Lady Seol glanced up from washing the children and asked:

“Where’d you go, So-ryong?”

“Oh, uh... just into the forest for a bit. Thought I’d try to catch something.”

“With Yo-hwa?”

“Yeah, well, I’m not much of a hunter, but Yo-hwa’s a different story.”

“Is that so? But I guess you didn’t catch anything? You didn’t go far, huh? Gungbong said there weren’t many beasts near here.”

“Ah... I see.”

I brushed it off as just a short hunt with Yo-hwa. While I was trying to figure out where to bury my awkward feelings...

Ki-sit.

Yo-hwa let out a sound behind me, and I flinched involuntarily.

“Hmm?”

“What’s wrong, So-ryong?”

Tssrrrk. 『Dad, you okay?』

Kkuu. 『Father, is something the matter?』

Lady Seol and the children tilted their heads, staring at me with curiosity.

Is this what they mean by a guilty conscience? Or maybe like jumping at shadows? Or—no, not even that...

“I-it’s nothing.”

I waved both hands quickly, pretending nothing was wrong.

That’s when I noticed two pairs of wide, curious eyes among the children.

Shaaa. 『Us?』

Skah. 『You mean us?』

Yeondu and Orange—now gleaming clean, thanks to Lady Seol—were looking past me, straight at Yo-hwa.

Clearly, she’d said something to them.

“What? What is it? What did Yo-hwa say?”

Nervously, I asked, fearing the worst. Maybe she was warning them not to get too close to me or something? Threatening them for getting too cozy?

But then, from the tree above Lady Seol and the kids, Hyang poked her head out.

Tssrrrk. 『Yo-hwa said to follow her, the two of them.』

Gulp. Wait, what? Is she going to scold them? Give them a warning about me? No way...

Knowing Yo-hwa, her asking them to follow her could mean... anything. And probably not anything good. Cold sweat began to drip down my back again.

At this rate, I was going to end up dehydrated by nightfall.

Then came her voice again:

Ki-sit. Ki-si-si.

Shaaaa. 『Ohh, really? I see.』

Ska-ska. 『Then I can’t miss this! I’ve always wanted to try!』

Judging by their cheerful reactions, whatever Yo-hwa said wasn’t anything bad—at least, not that they could tell. Feeling somewhat relieved, I asked again:

“What did she say?”

Ska! 『Oh! She said you were going to register us into the mental link, Hyung-nim!』

“Wait, what?”

I looked stunned, and Yeondu tilted her head innocently.

Ska? 『Why are you surprised? Didn’t you say that earlier?』

“Oh? Uh, y-yeah. I... did.”

Turning slowly, I looked over at Yo-hwa.

She was smiling at me sweetly.

In that expression, I saw the same kind of warm patience I often saw in Hwa-eun—understanding, forgiving.

Wait. What? Why are you smiling like that...?

***

I was caught off guard by Yo-hwa’s sudden permission, but another thought quickly followed.

Well... isn’t this good news?

Sure, it came with a few bumps and stumbles, but she was giving the green light to go ahead with the mental link.

And once Yeondu and Orange were in, I could proceed with Hwanji and Hwana.

So I focused on that and hurried over to Lady Seol.

“Lady Seol, before we head to Podarlap Palace...”

“Hmm? Before we go?”

“Well, it’s going to be dangerous, right?”

“They don’t threaten our Beast Palace, but I heard they don’t like martial artists from the Central Plains much.”

“Right. So I was thinking—it might be good to register a few snake-type spirit beasts into the mental link before we go. You know, the ones that don’t use venom slots. Just for safety. I swear, nothing else. Just safety.”

She looked up at me with a smirk.

“I was wondering when you’d finally say that. If you want to do it, just say so. No need for the ‘for safety’ excuse.”

Why is it that my excuses no longer work—neither on spirit beasts nor on humans?

With a heavy sigh of resignation, I asked again:

“S-so... can I?”

Lady Seol thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Until now, the mental links haven’t been too taxing on you. It should be fine.”

Shortly after, at her request, Cho /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ brought Hwa-eun over, and I got her permission too.

And so, beneath the tree, the dual registration ritual began for Yeondu and Orange.

“Alright, here we go.”

Shiaa. 『Understood, So-ryong.』

Ska. 『Ready, Hyung-nim.』

Since they were a couple, I did their link simultaneously.

I dabbed their saliva and placed it in my mouth, closed my eyes, and began channeling my energy using the inner beast incantation of Beast Heart Art. I started to feel myself slipping into the mental plane.

That’s when a voice chimed in near my ear—Tenzin’s.

“What is the Heavenly Master doing?”

“Oh, just... registering these two into my mental link?”

He hadn’t been there a moment ago—must’ve returned from hunting.

Lady Seol must’ve explained what was going on, because his gasp of horror followed right after.

“Accepting nagas beneath the Bodhi tree!? Just like the old tales!”

Wait—this tree was a Bodhi tree!? Of all things!?

As the misunderstanding spiraled out of control, my consciousness faded into the spiritual realm.