Not yet accustomed to his altered physique, Milo dashed clumsily through the foliage, only to promptly trip over his newly sprouted tail and tumble headfirst into a dense cluster of shrubbery.
'Damn, what kind of animal trips on their tail—I hope nobody saw that.'
He huffed indignantly, his pride more bruised than his body, as he quickly shuffled into a crouch and concealed himself within the leafy thicket.
Through the tangled undergrowth, Milo peered cautiously at the emerging threat. The approaching creature was monstrous—a beast cloaked in obsidian-black fur, intricately laced with pulsing rune-like engravings that shimmered faintly in the dappled ligh,t. Its countenance was eerily tiger-like, though its molten gold eyes burned with a predatory intelligence. Its body dwarfed any large feline Milo had ever seen, easily exceeding the size of a small car.
'Look at the size of that furball, the ugly thing's hungry no doubt.'
The formidable feline prowled forward, nostrils flaring as it sniffed the humid air, its gaze sweeping the terrain with unsettling precision. Then, abruptly, its head snapped in his direction.
It had caught his scent.
'Shit.'
Milo's thoughts scrambled as the beast began padding stealthily toward his hiding spot.
In his panic, Milo instinctively stepped back—his foot snapping a dry branch beneath him with a piercing crack. The tiger's ears perked instantly. Without hesitation, it lunged forward with astonishing speed.
Milo bolted out of the bushes, adrenaline surging, legs pumping furiously beneath him.
The tiger, unwilling to relinquish its prey, gave chase with thunderous bounds.
Milo sprinted through the underbrush, heart hammering in his chest, but once again fell victim to his unwieldy tail. He stumbled, tripped, and went hurtling forward—his body tumbling like a ragdoll until he crashed against the trunk of a gnarled tree.
"Ow..."
He groaned, disoriented, as he clutched his pounding head. Before he could regain his footing, a deafening snarl erupted, and the beast was upon him.
It pounced.
Milo instinctively twisted onto his back, barely dodging its full weight. But it was too late to avoid the slash. Agonizing pain tore through his shoulder as its talons raked deep into his flesh.
"Agh, you furry asshole."
He cried out, the sound rising in a shrill, primal pitch that didn't even sound like his own voice.
The Black Feline bore down, a single massive paw pinning him to the earth with bone-crushing force. Its rancid breath bathed his face, thick with the stench of rot and decay.
He writhed, struggled—weak, undersized, helpless. His limbs flailed uselessly against the creature's bulk. The tiger pressed harder, eyes gleaming with twisted amusement, as though it were savoring the moment before the kill.
It was playing with him.
'Perfect. Reborn as a monkey only to be eaten immediately—I truly must be blessed.'
The beast's jaws slowly parted, revealing dagger-like fangs, saliva dripping between them.
"Damn, I guess this is it."
Milo clenched his eyes shut.
Silence.
Stillness.
And then—nothing.
The crushing weight did not fall. Seconds passed. Cautiously, Milo cracked one eye open.
The beast had gone unnaturally still. Its golden eyes narrowed—not at him, but toward something just beyond the trees. A deep growl rumbled in its throat.
'Huh? What's wrong bastard, cat got your tongue?'
Of course, Milo hadn't dared say it out loud. His pulse raced in his ears as he turned his head, peering through the thick jungle.
A blur—crimson and fast as lightning—rushed toward them. To Milo, it was as if a streak of living fire sliced through the shadows.
The shadow tiger roared in alarm, the jungle erupting with noise as the fiery blur crashed into the beast with titanic force. The impact sent the tiger staggering sideways, clawing furrows into the earth to stabilize itself.
Milo caught the flash of steel—a blade plunged deep into the creature's side. Then, with a sudden whoosh, flames erupted along the beast's fur, igniting a searing blaze that sent smoke curling into the canopy above.
The beast shrieked in fury, twisting violently, its claws swiping at the air. Its attacker somersaulted backward with balletic agility and landed light as a feather—revealed to be a lithe, red-furred figure wielding a curved cutlass.
Before Milo could comprehend what he was witnessing, a sinewy hand gripped his wrist and hauled him upright.
"Move," snapped a voice—sharp and commanding, yet strangely melodic.
The stranger shoved him to the side. Now with some distance from the fray, Milo finally beheld his rescuer.
It was another monkey—but unlike any he had seen. Her build was elegant and wiry, her fur a deep crimson that shimmered with flecks of gold. Her eyes were piercing, brilliant gold, with a flickering intensity that belied their beauty. A tail tipped with flickering flame lashed behind her, leaving embers in its wake.
Uncannily her face bore an eerie humanoid elegance.Still simian but sculpted in a way that was oldly familiar
A cloth was wrapped around her chest, and she wore a short, ragged pixie cut skirt stiched of natural fibers,minimal,practical—and perfectly suited for battle
'Oh it's a girl'
Milo cradling his shoulder let out a groan.Blood matted his fur and pain pulsed with every movement. He looked back toward the red furred warrior
'If I were a monkey that would be a sight for the eyes...oh wait.'
His breath caught as she moved. Every motion was honed and efficient.
As though hearing his thoughts, the two creatures re-engaged. The tiger lunged forward, slashing viciously with claws that could rend stone. But the red-furred warrior was faster—she flipped backward mid-air, the blade glinting as she somersaulted overhead.
With one graceful arc, she swept her cutlass down, parrying a strike, and then slashed at the beast's flank. Blood sprayed. The tiger roared, enraged, spinning to counter.
The earth trembled beneath its charge.
She sidestepped its next lunge with supernatural agility, vaulting off a nearby tree trunk, and landed behind the beast. Her tail swirled behind her like a blazing comet.
With a final, flawless motion, she drew her sword in a reverse grip, dashing forward. In one clean, devastating slash, she cleaved through the creature's neck—severing it entirely.
The tiger's body staggered forward. For a moment, it seemed unaware of its death.
Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, it collapsed into the dirt—lifeless.
'Whoa.'
Milo's eyes widened in astonishment. Who could have expected such a dramatic reversal?
"Thank y—"
Before he could finish his sentence, the female monkey seized him by the wrist and ran.
"Why are we—"
"Shut up if you don't want to die."
'Damn, no need to be rude.'
Milo obeyed, legs moving on instinct as they vanished deeper into the wilderness.
Branches whipped at his fur, the ground beneath him uneven and treacherous. His lungs burned, his vision swam. They didn't stop until the chaos of the jungle faded behind them.
Milo collapsed against the gnarled trunk of a massive tree, gasping, his body trembling with exhaustion. The red-furred monkey stood nearby, barely winded.
Milo forced his breathing to steady.
"Who are you? What was that... and why was it chasing me?"
The effort of speaking nearly drained him. Sweat trickled down his brow.
The female monkey cast him a sideways glance—one filled with silent judgment, like a teacher observing a particularly disappointing student.
'This glare... why is it so familiar?'
Then it hit him like a freight train.
It was the same cold, emotionless stare his brother had given him—right before ending his life without hesitation.
Milo's expression darkened as memories surged. Sorrow. Betrayal. Rage.
'This bitch.'
Milo opened his mouth, ready to hurl venomous snark.
But she cut him off.
"My name is Liora, and that beast is called a shadow tiger... it's kinda strange that you don't know it."
Liora knelt, her gaze curious now, head tilted.
"Well I don't."
Milo frowned, his tone defensive.
"Hm. That's strange." She rose, folding her arms.
"As I told you, that was a shadow tiger. And as for why we ran—that was a juvenile. Juveniles usually work in groups."
"What!?"
Milo shivered at the thought. That monstrous beast was only a juvenile? Not yet matured? And there could be more?
'I feel sorry for the creatures that have to survive those beasts.'
"And that's even stranger..."
Liora scrutinized him, narrowing her golden eyes.
"What is it—is the sight too much to bear for your perfect eyes?"
She ignored his sarcasm and leaned in, touching his cheek gently, tilting his head to study his eyes.
"That's even stranger."
'What is?'
"Golden Langurs don't have red eyes."
She whispered, more to herself than to him. A furrow creased her brow, genuine confusion flashing across her face.
"What's that?"
She didn't answer. Just mumbled something under her breath—something about "amnesia."
She turned and gestured toward a towering tree with a wooden platform nestled in its branches.
"Climb."
Her tone was emotionless, mechanical.
"Um... I don't know how to—and even if I could, my damn arm is injured."
This gave her pause. Her confusion deepened.
Moments later, Milo found himself unceremoniously dropped onto the wooden platform.
"Ow—couldn't you just place me down?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she walked into a small treehouse, its rough door creaking on ancient hinges.
Milo groaned and sat up, surveying the space. Herbs hung from the ceiling in chaotic bundles. The air was thick with earthy scents, resin, and smoke.
'She's worse than me.'
Though that couldn't be farther from the truth—Milo was as messy as a sewer rat.
One corner overflowed with trinkets: a cracked compass, a rusted harmonica, and even a chipped kitchen knife.
Milo squinted at them in disdain.
"You collect garbage?"
Ignored again. He scowled, silently cursing her.
Liora sliced a peculiar fruit—blue and swirled like a stormcloud. It resembled an oversized pear.
She tossed him half.
"Eat it."
"No I wo—"
The moment the sweet, exotic scent wafted into his nostrils, his stomach growled audibly. Within seconds, he was devouring it.
'Why is she doing this?'