"Rise and shine, my woolen princess! Or do I need to kiss you to wake you up?"

Instead of a kiss, however, San felt a rather substantial kick to the bed. Waking up, he wasn't entirely sure where he was, but he recognized the voice.

"What the… Melon… what time is it?"

"Six o'clock," came the overly cheerful tone from the side. San turned his head and found a hybrid there — holding an umbrella and inexplicably wearing a nightcap. Silly, striped, with a pompom, he looked like he'd been plucked from movies of the last century. The umbrella, however, was strict and black.

"How did you get here?" San asked.

"Today, I'm your personal morning fairy, sweetheart! Granting any wish!"

"Oh yeah? Well then go and blow yourself…" San grumbled and turned onto his side. The response came promptly:

"Tried that, need a bit more cat in my genes! So, get up!" Another kick to the bed followed.

"You're disgusting…"

"Yeah, unlike the sleepy animal who's wiping boogers on his fist in front of me," Melon venomously replied. He seemed to be in a good mood… a psychotic good mood, if that explained anything.

San yawned, assuming a sitting position. "Why do we have to go anywhere this early?"

"The less chance the boss gets wasted, the better. Hikoro was already a bit loose before, but now that he's holding court, he's even more likely to overdo it. Complete nonsense from what used to be a somewhat amusing creature."

"What about you?" San asked, getting up and scratching his side. "Five more minutes and we'll go."

"Don't drag it out too long."

"Screw you, Melon."

"How many wishes, I don't know how this morning fairy will handle them all!" Melon retorted with sarcasm.

The sunrise was already quite early, but today the sky was again covered with a light gray veil, making the animals involuntarily glance upwards in anticipation of rain. These two paid no attention to the sky — they were navigating through the streets, avoiding the gradually awakening street vagrants, on their way to their designated hybrid target.

"Is Gouhin sleeping?" Melon asked quietly. San answered in surprise, "Yes, he is. Why?"

"Just wondering. Wanted to ask him something when we get back."

"He didn't come back until late last night. Planning something again."

"And you, as his close aide, don't know what exactly?"

"No."

"Interesting. It's either you're lying to me or the old man is doin' something really nasty and never ever would inform you."

Alpaca chuckled, not willing to rise to the bait, and suggested, "Tell me something about this Hikoro Reiu."

"What? A joke?" Melon replied sarcastically, turning the corner and accidentally kicking a crumpled plastic bottle, seemingly torn and clawed. At the bottom lay remnants of murky liquid — either alcohol or vomit. Most likely both. "Reiu is a repulsive type. He's like 'Eclipse' itself, injecting themselves with life-saving shots in the toilet and getting high on 'pearl', an orgy on the couch in the corner, a drunken brawl at the bar where someone's already had their hand bitten off… that's what he's like, a bit rotten. And yet stingy and tight-fisted, like the government."

"Eclipse" is gone, isn't it? And this doesn't seem like the club some used to talk about," San said doubtfully. Melon grinned.

"You left too early, it seems. When it came to dropping the masks, it was a riot. By the way, the masks."

"What about them?"

"Nothing, promised that dumb wolf I'd look for them."

"Masks? From the club?" Alpaca was surprised. "What does he need them for?"

"No idea. Everyone's got their own fetishes."

"I don't."

"Well, you're a virgin, where would you get one?"

"We're not in school, idiot. I'm not sixteen, and I'm not falling for that," San retorted.

"Anything changed? Not to mention that you hardly ever went to school," the hybrid sarcastically remarked. His companion chose to remain silent.

Finally, the tangled streets and paths, where any hint of old asphalt disappeared completely, led them to a secluded house — a private one, once with a decently fortified fence and likely with security, but now showing all signs of neglect. Melon rang the doorbell, but the worn-out plastic button popped out under his touch and rolled into a ditch somewhere.

"Damn it. Help me up," Melon said.

"Isn't there… security inside?" San asked.

"Knowing Hikoro, it's probably crowded in there, but the number of guards is anywhere from one to zero. If his messed-up little brother hasn't overdosed yet, then one," Melon explained. With San's help, he climbed onto the fence and reached out his hand, pulling himself up.

"Not entirely hopeless. Look, a pool of crap."

Alpaca chuckled. There used to be a pool in the yard, but it seemed it hadn't been cleaned in years, if not centuries. The green, overgrown pond, in which various trash floated uncontrollably, didn't exactly evoke a desire to swim.

"An aquatic animal?"

"Nah, more like to show off… in the past," Melon replied.

Melon jumped off the fence and walked across what looked more like a wasteland towards the door. He knocked. Knocked louder. Glancing back at San, he hesitated for a moment and then pushed the handle down. The door swung open.

"Man, this stinks…" San gagged, covering his nose with his hand. Melon grimaced, catching the sour and sharp scents — alcohol, sweetish and herbal aroma of drugs, unwashed bodies, dirt. Yes, Hikoro liked parties, although turning the house into a drug den wasn't necessary. He didn't deal drugs in the broad sense of the word — didn't cross paths with major syndicates, kept a low profile, but he did have certain supplies.

And, if one searched well enough, the bastard might even have a bomb. Just in case.

Blocking their path was a motionless vixen lying there, with patches of fur missing. She was barely breathing, dressed only in a tank top, with no other clothes. Her eyes rolled back, and weak spasms indicated an unpleasant diagnosis — a drug-induced stupor. Something heavy, judging by the line of needle marks on her veins. Clearly visible through the fur.

"She's out. If you wanna puke, you can stay outside," Melon said coldly, stepping over the body. San swallowed and suppressed the nausea. He said, "We came together — we leave together."

Mountains of various junk, scattered haphazardly along the way, led the hybrid to think that Hikoro was losing his mind. His love for shiny trinkets, statuettes, and various luxury items, fueled by drugs, alcohol, and anything he could get his hands on, turned into a desire to hoard everything inside. From that pile of kitchen utensils and clothes, a hand-operated chainsaw with bits of fur on the wire was visible. Was he shaving someone with it?

Another female, a young lizard, staggered, clutching onto the door frame. She raised her cloudy eyes to the guests, attempted to say something, took a sharp breath, and collapsed backward, leaving scratches on the white paint.

Pushing her aside with his foot, Melon peered into the adjacent room — which, judging by its size, was a hall. He chuckled in awe:

"What a mess you've made here, Hikoro."

From that same cluttered room, a plush, colorful carpet stained with alcohol and other substances, sprawled the naked body of an almost seven feet tall komodo dragon. With its dark, dull scales, it still bore traces of once well-developed muscles, although it appeared groggy. With one hand, he pulled towards himself a barely breathing female doberman, whose glazed eyes indicated her consciousness was also muddled and not in good shape. The fate of the second woman of the same species, but older, writhing in agony on the other side, was evident. Foam formed on her lips, and the stiffening left no doubt.

She was dead.

"Damn bastard," San narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists. Melon shook his head:

"Don't even think about it. This isn't the first or the last time. They come here for a dose of drugs and get a couple of doses of the owner's sperm as a bonus. And those who are unlucky also get a dose of poison. And… in a fight with him, I wouldn't even now bet on you. He's extremely good at pain ignorance. Although I'm supposed to support you… as your morning fairy."

"Shut up… why the hell is this thing still alive?" San snapped.

"That 'thing' fits perfectly into the picture of the world after the great revolution on the black market. Believe me, he used to look much more respectable. Hikoro!"

"M-m-mhr-r-r…" the carcass groaned, lazily flicking its tail. Finally, the lizard pried open its yellow eyes and turned its head, staring at the guests. He said:

"Me-e-e-lon! What brings you to my, heh-heh, humble abode?"

Hikoro clearly hadn't fully recovered from what he had been indulging in the previous night. Looking at the frozen and cracked wall clock, he scratched his head with long claws:

"What time is it?"

"The time for 'we came for opioids'," Melon replied. Snapping his fingers in front of the varan's nose, he continued:

"Are you capable of doing business, Reiu?"

"N-no…"

His fingers reached for a toppled square bottle. Hikoro tilted it into his mouth and took several gulps. He exhaled:

"Now I am."

He got up, searching for his pants. The hybrid asked indifferently:

"What were you high on yesterday? You have a corpse next to you."

"Ah, that… what's her name," the varan chuckled, looking at the motionless female. "You know how it is — take a little too much, and it seems like you can do anything. The remnants of former luxury… they say 'dust' is no longer available on the streets. Wanna nail a whore?"

"A girl with heroin addiction? No, thanks."

"Somewhere around here were also the males."

"Those who can barely drag their feet?" the hybrid snorted, gesturing towards the chaos unfolding around them. "Not my thing. Where's the other Hikoro?"

"Takeshi? Rex knows him, maybe he went out for meat again."

San listened to the conversation between the two monsters without interest, but deep down, he really wished he had a gun with him. Or to find a couple of tons of explosives and blow this place off the face of the earth. It… shouldn't exist.

"So what do you need?"

"Morphine. In pills or ampoules, preferably the latter. I'll need a hundred."

"Money or barter?"

"Money," the hybrid slapped his stomach. Hikoro looked at him grimly.

"The prices have gone up."

The hybrid narrowed his eyes.

"I don't give a fuck about your problems. What about a discount for old acquaintances?"

"Not in your case, especially if you brought some unknown meat with you."

"I'm San."

"I don't care even if you're Nissan. You weren't asked, lunch, so just stand there and shut up," the reptile snapped its jaws. Melon sighed.

"You were stingy, you'll die stingy. There's twenty thousand more than you used to take, but I'll need something else."

"All ears," the lizard began briskly dragging the corpse outside, showing with its whole demeanor that words about attention were nothing but sarcasm.

The hybrid, unfazed, followed him and continued talking:

"Do you remember the masks from 'Eclipse'? A friend of mine is looking for such trinkets. Those twenty thousand are yours if you find the masks."

"How do you know… Ugh, get away, you creature!" Kicking the motionless fox on the ribs, Hikoro didn't wait for a response and dragged her aside himself before dealing with the undoubtedly spent female. "How do you know they're here?"

"Because you bring home anything that's lying around."

"That's true. Although, no," the dark-scaled homeowner chuckled, "I toss out things that are lying around. Come in, look for yourselves. If you find them, they're yours. Check out the girls too, maybe one catches your eye."

"And you sell them too?"

"Well, you can take the dead ones for free, hehehe. There's not much you can get from carnivores, except their bodies — at least, after they've given up all their money."

"Abomination," San spat. The monitor lizard gave him a glance and smirked:

"You're not too squeaky clean for our slums, are you? Melon, your buddy isn't a cop, is he?"

"If he were a cop, he wouldn't be walking alone in the black market. And he wouldn't be walking at all," the hybrid smirked. "Alright, we're going to dig through your garbage. You get the main merchandise ready."

"It's been ready for a while. So I'll bury the whore and be back… damn it, where's the shovel?"

"It was sticking out of the garage wall."

"Right. Why the hell did I put it there…"

The hybrid, turning his back and heading back to the house, muttered under his breath:

"Because there's probably a grave of the previous whore under the garage."

San caught up with him and, walking shoulder to shoulder, whispered:

"Can we… somehow help them?"

"Help who? They're here of their own free will, sweetheart. First, they bring Hikoro all their belongings… judging by the house, there's a lot of that… and then they start paying with whatever's left. And all for a dose."

The alpaca cursed, his eyes stubbornly narrowed and fixed on one spot in front of him. Jabbing him in the side with his fist, the hybrid warned:

"Keep in mind, if you pull any tricks, our trade will suffer. And the morphine for the good doctor, accordingly. It's better to help. I think the box with the masks is somewhere in the basement, but… they could be anywhere."

"What are these masks anyway?"

"Various animals, with eye sockets adorned with colored glass beads under precious stones. They look expensive, to be honest…" the hybrid gestured around the space, where an atmosphere of decay prevailed, "as you can see. They could be in any condition."

Finding the entrance to the basement under the stairs, they descended. San tried to turn on the lights - surprisingly, the electricity was still working. Otherwise, they would have had to rummage around with a flashlight. However, if the house was just cluttered, then under the house there were literally piles of various goods, not always valuable and not always even identifiable at first sight. And by the wall, on a heap of dirty pillows with a tourniquet on his arm, lay a stiffened corpse. A young male, a cheetah or a slender leopard, his face not visible, and the fur - in terrible condition, in just jeans. Grinning crookedly, Melon glanced around him just in case. The smells didn't bother him too much, because the vomiting reflex was greatly dulled due to hybrid physiology. However, it stank terribly here. If they find the masks, they'll need to treat them with a neutralizer before using them.

Not his concern, anyways.

San couldn't stand it and pulled his hoodie up to cover his face. Noticing this, Melon commented:

"And I told you - wait outside."

"…with a poisonous predatory bastard, burying a dead prostitute. No. I feel safer with you."

"With your fairy."

"Go to hell."

"Come on, say it," Melon grinned, poking him with his finger. "'I only live thanks to my fairy godmother.'"

"Melon, leave it, please. We're here on business. Specifically, I'm here at the old man's request, otherwise I wouldn't have lifted a finger. Let's find your masks and get out of here," the alpaca almost pleaded.

Satisfied with his tone, the beast quieted down and continued searching. Suddenly, one of the piles of trash moved. Initially, recoiling reflexively, the hybrid then approached with curiosity. He poked the pile with his finger, and it moved again. Silence. No groans, no sounds at all. Melon rummaged through papers and bottles, reluctantly pushed aside a stinky heap of clothes, and found someone's shoulder underneath. Once white, undoubtedly. And a long ear. Dark.

He stretched out in surprise:

"No way…"

"What?" San, turning his head towards him, became alert. "Found it already? So quickly?"

"One mask, and even that - metaphorically speaking…"

Grabbing the skin on the back, Melon effortlessly pulled out a nearly lifeless body. Twenty five pounds, no more, lifeless drooping ears, extreme exhaustion, very weak signs of life, traces of drug withdrawal, rotting ulcers on the legs, peeking through short fur. Instead of clothes, there was some dirty rag around the waist. But this face with a black "mask"… something familiar. Something from the recent past.

"It seems like this is yours," he said to the petrified San and threw the rabbit across the room. San had to step aside to catch the body, but once he saw who Melon had extracted, he almost instantly broke down. Tears sprang from the alpaca's eyes, then he spoke through clenched teeth:

"I'll kill him…"

"She's still alive. Though there's hardly any hope she'll recover," Melon shrugged.

"Why… why is she here?! What happened? Kyuu! Kyuu!"

He shook the limp body in the air as if she could provide any answers to his half-mad questions, a former companion in the trading cage. Melon sighed, as if he hadn't just been tossing rabbits a second ago:

"Idiot. Leave her, shaking her might damage some internal organ irreparably. And that's it. Finish line. Do you understand?"

"Melon! Why is she here?!" San exclaimed with tears in his eyes.

The hybrid glanced at him, then at the rabbit. He smirked with bitter irony:

"This is what big money does to animals, San. We're all with the scum, you know. And I paid her a really large sum for information on Legoshi."

"But how…"

"She was lurking around, you useless piece of shit. And then, with her last bit of strength, she crawled into the basement to avoid being devoured by a hospitable drug dealer. Or not being fucked first and then devoured. Get yourself together and look for the box."

"I'm going to the clinic!"

"So useless… as you wish."

The alpaca rushed upstairs, holding the motionless body of his former partner and friend in his arms. Maybe even a girlfriend… once upon a time. Livestocks did not use such words. He hated her, cursed her — Kyuu ran away, leaving no word, no message… but now, seeing her like this, the herbivore couldn't handle it.

Muttering "idiot" under his breath, the hybrid went to explain to the owner. He probably wouldn't have noticed her absence, as he was busy digging, but leaving the question unanswered wasn't an option.

The masks were found after an hour of searching, on the second floor. Downing a farewell gulp of premium whiskey from a crappy bottle, the hybrid smashed it against the wall and handed over the envelope with the money, then received a square box tightly wrapped with sticky tape. He cut it open with the tip of his knife and examined one of the vials carelessly inserted into the cardboard form. He warned the owner:

"Hikoro, if this is fake, I know where you live."

"Many people do," the monitor lizard said through gritted teeth. "That's why I never cheat anyone."

Perhaps that was the only positive trait in the disgusting merchant - he preferred to conduct his business honestly.

"And if it's not business-related… will you drop by sometime?" Reiu asked. The hybrid chuckled:

"Only if you find a dump truck and clear all this vomit out of the house. You have plenty of money, hire some help or make these crippled ones clean up…"

"I prefer it this way," the lizard grinned. "Too bad, very unfortunate. Well then, until we meet again, you bastard."

"Yeah."

Melon turned around and walked away, holding the cardboard box under his arm and the bundle in his pocket. No, perhaps there was one more trait in the greedy and vile reptile that had attracted him a few years ago. Briefly. Literally for a couple of episodes in bed. However, now, seeing all this, Melon realized with disappointment that Hikoro had sunk lower than the limit acceptable even for him.

"Boss, where's he headed?"

"Rex knows… " Makoto gave a disdainful look to the condor with the odd nickname "Voices." He didn't like the bird, but, he had to admit, it had earned its place in the gang. Even if it was completely insane.

"I thought Voices was the big boss's bodyguard," said the young lion with dark fur, sitting across from them.

"Shut up, Comedian. If you still know when it's better to speak and when to keep quiet - better leave on your own," the older lion cut him off.

Agata shrugged, looking into the eyes of the senior lion. He snapped:

"We don't discuss Voices. Is that clear?"

"Yes, boss."

"He sometimes wanders off alone," the jackal on the opposite side of the table conspiratorially added, gnawing on a small bone with traces of meat. "And comes back covered in blood."

"Just hope he doesn't touch anyone really important… like the cooks, for example," Grimaced Gizran, Makoto's closest and somewhat more brainy henchman. Although he lacked in combat prowess, the hefty hog usually wielded steel knuckles.

The lion in the gray suit abruptly cut them off:

"Enough chatter."

"Sorry, Makoto-san."

"I don't understand why you guys like these local dives so much? Sure, there's meat, but it's prepared disgustingly," the lieutenant mused aloud. For his underlings, the question of food wasn't as pressing, a huge roasted piece of herbivore meat was godlike food to them… however, Makoto himself preferred sophistication in his dishes. And although Nvira's base could spice up meat with rosemary or pepper with lemon, there was no real culinary skill in her kitchen.

"Only you have such refined taste, boss," the sycophantic jackal clarified. "We're just simple guys."

"Stop… hinagaving."

"Chiuri is hinagifted with a brown nose from the very birth." The brigade chuckled on the young lion's words. The african wild dog's fawning behavior towards Nobu had long since become a byword.

"Bite me, Comic, you're still coming with us on this…"

"Creditor duty?" Agata smirked.

"Yeah, that's the one."

They referred to the traditional collection of money from shopkeepers dealing in meat, illegal pleasures, and contraband goods. Well, not all of them, some couldn't seem to remember the word itself. Makoto sighed almost imperceptibly. By designating his squad as a separate brigade, Nobu seemed to have deliberately brought together the least intelligent animals. Only Gizran stood out in intelligence, as well as excessive cruelty, and this new guy, Comedian, although occasionally cheeky, generally behaved decently. He also proved himself well in a fight, and on the black market, he moved like he was born there. Nurturing a natural suspicion towards the newcomer, the white lion quickly realized that he couldn't serve in the police… they don't let you break the law so openly and freely.

After a small lunch right at the Slaughterhouse base, they headed straight to the market, where they systematically collected payment for the past week. When the butcher stuttered about not having the money, Makoto silently struck him so hard that the coyote's neck almost cracked under the force of the blow. Agata had noticed before that the lion didn't like using his claws, but he had no idea why.

Their small group - the boss of the "elite" Makoto, Agata, the talkative jackal Makniri, and the crow Sato - moved slowly along the trading streets. The jackal proudly carried a small backpack on his shoulder, into which they folded thin stacks of money. The population of the slums, for the most part, lived beyond poverty, but theft, many illegal supplies to the "civilized" part of the city, and tasks from local gangs always kept the poor afloat. Those who didn't engage in this or tried to run an honest business had it much worse. Some herbivores even tried to sell parts of themselves as food.

And such deals also found buyers.

"Sato, Mak - pay a visit to Sutsugo in the alley, there's always a line of idiots with coins at his machines," Makoto smirked.

"Right away, boss," nodded the jackal and abruptly turned into an inconspicuous passage leading to a basement staircase.

Agata looked questioningly at his fellow, but he didn't pay attention to him. He took out cigarettes, silently, without looking, offered them to his subordinate, but he shook his head:

"Thank you, Makoto-san. I'm watching my health."

"Comedian…"

"And trying not to be gloomy, yes."

Makoto glanced at him:

"Why are you here, Agata?"

"What do you mean?"

"You came out of prison… could have started a new life. Moved to another city. Why come back here?"

Agata shrugged:

"I'm doing what I do best, boss. You understand that a prison sentence hasn't corrected anyone yet, but my brothers from the old gang still have a long time to go. It just so happened that I'm younger and haven't really messed up in the eyes of the law yet."

Looking sharply, Makoto asked, lighting a cigarette:

"Did you kill?"

The young lion nodded:

"Yes. There was a shootout with Okamigumi, I ended one or two wolves."

"And with your own hands?"

"Tearing someone's throat with my claws? Haven't had the chance yet. Although a couple of times in prison, I was very close to it."

Remembering Free's usual behavior, he smirked and added:

"Otherwise, the world would have been deprived of the pleasure of seeing such a delightful me for a couple more years. And why did you join the gang, Makoto-san?"

"Money."

"I mean… if you wanted money and didn't care about the methods… why not become one of the Shishigumi a couple of years ago? Maybe even the elite," Agata cautiously asked. "We were strong."

Makoto twitched his left lip, as if about to growl. Quickly pulling himself together, he looked at the ground and said:

"The circumstances… were different."

"Got it. I'll shut up."

"It's not about you. Sometimes something that happens in life can change your whole outlook on it. And that's something you can remember. It'll come in handy."

"Did something… happen to you?"

"Now would you please shut up, Comedian."

"Yes, boss," Agata said regretfully. It was still too early to buddy up to Makoto. And… frankly, he wasn't up to dismantling the gang from the inside. Even the combined brains of the Shishigumi wouldn't be enough. Louis…

Louis could.

The current life of the young lion was built precisely on trust in the deer. Makoto extinguished his cigarette on the wall, it was unclear how he could catch the scent of the streets and his own subordinates in the smoke, but the boss's gaze turned to the entrance to the basement. There, Sato's head appeared, who first turned his beak from side to side and only then darted across the street with the jackal. He was unlikely to be looking out for cars - the slums rarely left wheels unattended, so there was no transport here. But Sato was very meticulous and a little foolish, so he tried to appear wise with excessive and unnecessary caution.

"Got it?" Makoto asked them, the crow nodded silently. "Excellent."

"Boss, Sutsugo sent a gift to the main boss… straight to the trash or should we try to give it away?"

"Try. And then pick it up from the dumpster when Nobu-san throws it away. What's in there? A knife?"

"Don't know. Some kind of stick."

"A stick? A rod?"

"Here, see for yourself…"

Makoto silently took the package from the jackal's hands, fortunately not sealed, and carefully folded back the edge. He raised an eyebrow, unfolded it, and pulled out a small elongated cylinder carved from bone. He showed it to Agata and the others:

"Do you know what this is?"

"I didn't study well in school, boss," Agata smirked. Macniri echoed him:

"I didn't study at all. Grew up in the slums, will rot in the slums. What is it, boss?"

"A command staff… from the Great War. Possibly a forgery, but such ones were used by the generals of the carnivores and served as conduits for their will."

"What do you mean?"

"With these staffs," Makoto explained, twirling the white object between his fingers, "they gave orders and signed papers. Look, there's a seal on the back. Of course, it was smudged with herbivore blood."

"Well, of course," snickered Sato. Makniri asked in surprise:

"So, will Nobu-san accept this?"

"Knowing his nature? I think so," Makoto said grimly, carefully wrapping the staff in a simple, though adorned with incomprehensible symbols, paper. Then, as if remembering something, he added: "I won't be here tomorrow. Survive on your own, don't mess with Voices and Soldier."

The bandits exchanged glances. Their elder was not easy, oh, not easy at all. They were mostly afraid of Nobu, but each of them respected Makoto - he could be rough and cruel, but at the same time, the lion didn't exceed some invisible line and showed hints of fairness towards them. But if someone got in trouble - it was their own fault, gather your teeth off the floor later.

They would also respect Agata - the Comedian - if anyone had seen a fight between two lions on the street. However, the young lion behaved quite respectfully, didn't mention the initiation ritual, and didn't claim power. At least not yet.

Continuing to gradually gather information about the gang, Agata couldn't figure out what to write in the next letter to Louis. Outline the territory? Controlled points? But why would their real boss need it? After long deliberation in his room, allocated to him in one of the wooden barracks inside the old factory, the lion came to the conclusion that it would be best to make a plan of the factory itself. And of that base that the Slaughterhouse took from the Marauders. These two buildings usually housed the main forces of the criminals. However, in his research, he encountered many obstacles - starting with the fact that Agata couldn't easily rise to the administrative level, which the elite had taken for themselves, and ending with the fact that there was simply no one to ask.

Taking photos was not possible. He couldn't draw, and little would be clear from his scribbles. However, in the end, Agata was unexpectedly lucky - wandering around the factory, in a room that, judging by the rusty lockers, was once a dressing room for workers, he found a detailed plan of the workshops and the administrative floor. Carefully folding the "map", the lion hid it in his pocket, and a little later - cut the mattress from below with his claw and carefully slid the paper near the seam. He was good at hiding things.

He would probably have something to show Louis, but it would require a personal meeting.

Since early morning, the overcast sky and the wind, which was particularly keenly felt on the elevated ground where the solid territory of Cherryton Academy was located, troubled the short-haired animals. The end of spring was not as warm and joyful as expected. But even those whose fur or wool was naturally insulated began to shiver by midday while being outside.

Leaving Sisu under Juno's care, Pina changed into an inconspicuous - for him - raspberry windbreaker and left the school, heading to the metro. He had been in a gloomy mood since the morning, but now he was completely silent, answering his club comrades' questions monosyllabically, only smiling when addressed directly by the dragoness. But an attentive observer could notice that the smile lacked a hint of sincerity.

Pina himself couldn't explain why the drastic change in his mood suddenly became an aura, like a bubble, obscuring visibility both outwardly and inwardly. Perhaps it was the weather… but now he looked upon the bad weather with much greater favor. Or maybe the place he was heading to was to blame.

Plugging his narrow ears with headphones, the ram gazed with blue eyes at the passing tunnel lights and thought about what had happened over the past three months, how the appearance of one animal had become a strange push into a bottomless pit, yet he flew, enjoying it sincerely, and didn't want to return. Not being one to delve into himself, Pina embraced this science with a strange sense of painful pleasure. And perhaps today's visit was one of the fruits of such contemplation.

Arriving at the necessary station, he looked around and hesitated. Should he buy glasses to disguise himself - just in case? Then he snorted and walked past the raccoon merchant who had spread his wares right on the floor. Or maybe an umbrella?

Pina looked to the stairs and silently murmured with his lips:

"I'm not afraid of rain anymore. Or water."

Although even to himself, the ram still felt a little twisted inside. He still feared swimming.

Stepping outside, the ram realized that the wind had significantly intensified during the journey. Grimacing, he wrapped himself tighter in the thin, theoretically windproof jacket - in reality, it leaked from all the cracks, and the wool didn't help much - and walked on. The houses were changing. They became smaller, real estate agencies and insurance companies flashed more often. This block ended symbolically - with a funeral agency. Further, across two lanes, stretched the cemetery.

No, fortunately, Pina could boast of a strong family without accidents. Even his grandparents on both sides of the sheep family were still alive, which the herbivore didn't particularly rejoice in his youth. He came here, obeying a completely different impulse, sudden and uncharacteristic for the old Pina, which even surprised him momentarily, but the decision had already been made.

Entering through the gates, reminiscent of school gates, the ram walked along the long rows of almost identical gravestones. Everywhere there were inscriptions in different fonts, in some places - symbols of various beliefs of small size, cast in metal, but overall… it looked like an army of stone soldiers, standing motionless in formation. A parade of the dead. Smiling sadly at his own inappropriate thoughts, Pina put his hands in his pockets and walked along, searching for the twenty-seventh row. Somewhere there, on the edge, they buried the dust of Director Gon.

Finally, the right stone was found, and the ram hesitated. He didn't even know what he wanted to say, what kind of epitaph suddenly drove him to pay tribute to the departed animal's memory. However, Pina knew the reason very well.

Thanks to Louis, Pina knew everything that had been happening around the director lately.

Not an accident.

Murdered.

His wife and daughter disappeared, most likely, also murdered.

And here, in the very heart of the school, the dreadful verdict for herbivores matured, a verdict that Gon had been reluctant to carry out until the very end. No, the director was not a hero… although, undoubtedly, he was one to them at the same time. But heroes usually win.

"And you couldn't," Pina said colorlessly to Gon's grave. "Yet… thank you, perhaps. All we did was complain to each other about your irritability, Gon-san."

A sacrilegious thought, but it felt good here. Peaceful. Even the wind seemed to have calmed down a bit, although the uneven gray clouds still moved across the sky at their former speed. Rest.

And the deceased laid out in neat rows.

Sitting down on the grass, he crossed his slender legs.

I wonder, has anyone ever apologized to you? Not personally, but for all the injustice that befell you?

No, the director wasn't a perfect animal. However, in front of the students, he appeared as a strict, almost all-powerful mentor and administrator, while at home he could well have been a loving father and husband. And his family too…

Pina felt tears welling up in his eyes. He blinked, not understanding why. Why was he suddenly feeling genuine sorrow over a carnivorous animal that wasn't particularly close to him? Perhaps it sought an outlet, stemming from other internal rivers?

Suddenly biting his lip, he pondered. Legoshi and Louis must have planned something. Rather, they couldn't NOT have planned something, the wolf literally got himself entangled in every dangerous situation in his life and always thirsted for justice, while the deer, arrogant, clever, seeking strength, couldn't perceive it as something… inconsequential. Not challenging him personally.

Justice and retribution. What a worthy pair. And… they couldn't remain indifferent to Gon's death. Now that Pina had gotten to know Louis better and had come to understand Legoshi even more, he clearly saw - it couldn't have been them who remain ignorant.

But what could be done without a clear trail? Even with Legoshi's case, he had dealt with it for a very long time, and here, outside the school, the wolf was probably powerless.

Pina lowered his fingers to the cool stone, not quite realizing how he would bring to life what he wanted to say. But still, he uttered:

"I'll help them."

"Them?"

Pina shrieked with a thin voice and jerked to the side, falling and painfully hitting himself on the neighboring tombstone. His solemn promise, gathered concentration, were shattered by the primitive feeling of fear, although the voice didn't sound threatening. Rather, it sounded curious.

The towering muscular tiger in dark jersey involuntarily lifted the corner of his lips. He said:

"Calm down. It's me."

"Bill?! The fuck… my heart almost jumped out of my chest," Pina exhaled with round eyes still filled with panic, one hand clutching his side, and the other - his chest. "You can't scare people like that!"

"Calm down, don't shout. And… I'm sorry, alright?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard about all this… and came to bid farewell to Gon. He's still my kin, another tiger deserves kind words. Even though I transferred from Cherryton. But I was very surprised to see you here."

"I myself don't know what I'm doing here," Pina turned his head away. Bill tilted his head sideways:

"And who were you planning to help?"

"It doesn't matter."

"And anyway, you - and help?"

"As you can see, animals change," Pina muttered, brushing aside the hand offered for help. He got up, dusting himself off. "Well, except for some. You have to be such an idiot to sneak up like that…"

"I wasn't sneaking up," the tiger said gruffly. "At least not on purpose. And I apologized."

"Yeah, yeah. Doesn't matter, forget it. How's Els?"

Bill gritted his teeth and forced out, "Badly."

"Can we find out what happened to her?"

"Everything's bad."

"I could…" Pina began with a questioning tone, but the unexpected visitor interrupted him.

"No."

A pause ensued, which the ram managed to examine from all sides and concluded it only made things worse. Especially here. However… perhaps Sisu had managed to teach him something during their time together.

Taking a few steps forward, Pina hugged Bill. He didn't smell very good, as if he had been traveling here for days without a break for a bath, but Pina silently squeezed him with all the strength he could muster.

"Hey, what are you…" the carnivore exclaimed, slightly raising his hands. The second animal didn't reply, continuing to hug him silently. Bill cautiously lowered his hands to the ram's back and patted him with his large, strong palm.

"Are you okay? And where's that acerbic, sarcastic guy I knew in school?"

"Come on," blue eyes stared at him, in a sharp movement of his head Pina almost butted the tiger in the lowered jaw, "say you don't need this. The world has gone mad. Starting with this," his finger pointed down, towards the gravestone.

Bill silently followed the hand, and the returned embrace was slightly tighter than what was permissible for a ram. Then unexpectedly he released Pina and even tried to pull away. He said:

"Leave it. I'm worse than Riz. We'd better talk less, honestly."

"Sorry, what?"

"I'm worse than Riz," Bill repeated. His interlocutor chuckled grimly

"And who have you eaten?"

"Pina, I haven't eaten anyone… but I've done something no less terrible."

"I hope it's not related to Gon?"

"No," the tiger shook his head. "Not him."

"With Els?"

"Yes, but… not in the way you think."

The Dall's ram lowered his head. He said into the ground, without lifting his gaze:

"I never thought you could harm her in any way. Rather… you were avenging her. Something happened to her. Something that usually happens to us, herbivores, who live briefly and foolishly."

The carnivore's voice barely audible replied:

"Yes."

"And that's why you think you're worse than Riz?"

"Yes," the voice became slightly firmer.

"Bill-kun."

"Yes?"

"I talked to Riz. I mean, after they put our bear in prison. More than once. And since you haven't eaten anyone, you're obviously not worse."

"Stupid logic."

"In this twisted and insane world, logic doesn't always work correctly. Or, rather, it nervously hides under the bench and trembles with fear."

"Well said," Bill chuckled dryly, flicking his tail. "Well said indeed."

He walked forward and stopped in front of the grave, small and neat, a white stone held a modest tiny metal plate with the name on it. Looking at the memorial plaque, he said, "You were a worthy animal, Gon-san. And you didn't deserve this…"

"Not in the slightest," Pina interjected.

"Maybe if I hadn't left school, none of this would have happened?…"

"And how would you have stopped it?"

"I don't know."

"The Cherryton Academy is much stranger now than you think. But…" Pina paused, addressing the silent owner of the piece of land in front of them, "the school is alive, Gon-san. That's probably something you'd like to know."

"Do you think he can hear?"

"I know that if I had left life under the circumstances he did, I would have reincarnated as a vengeful ghost and flown around the county cursing everyone. A great way for revenge, especially considering the place where Gon died."

The tiger's ears twitched. "The place? What do you know about the black market?"

"Certainly less than Legoshi and Louis. And apparently less than you…"

"Louis," Bill repeated and then widened his eyes in surprise. "Deer Louis? Where did he… wait, I don't understand anything."

"I may have said more than you needed to hear," Pina sighed.

"Hold on… but Legoshi recently… ok, I got that. You guys have some secrets that no one trusts a dumb tiger with. But… whatever happens, count me in, guys. If something unexpected happens. A'ight?"

"Alright, I suppose. If I figure out when the moment of that 'unexpected something' comes. You've become strange."

"We're all changing, not just you," Bill smirked. Then suddenly he suggested, "Maybe we should have lunch together? I haven't eaten since yesterday."

"Let's," the ram shrugged. Honestly, he just wanted to leave this peaceful, yet now oppressive place. As if the shadows of the deceased suddenly reached out to them from all sides. And in a burst of generosity, he said, "Maybe we'll stop by the manga shop on Hirohito later? I've been chasing the latest episode of 'Iluvatar' for two months, but it's always sold out as soon as it hits the shelves."

"Darn, 'Iluvatar'… I don't read that kind of stuff," the tiger shook his head, gradually heading towards the exit. "But if I did, I'd definitely share it. I always get the freshest releases in the mail! But I'll gladly go to the manga shop, there's nothing better than digging through lesser-known series."

"I remember hearing in passing how you… sometimes discuss manga," Pina said, deliberately omitting its name, "but somehow I avoided it, I suppose."

"Let's be honest, you're an arrogant jerk," came a voice from up front.

"I HUGGED you, you pathetic mangy cat, and this is what I get in return?"

"Alright, I was kidding. Though I'm still not sure," Bill looked back over his shoulder and winked at him. The ram dramatically sighed, "Straightforward, naive, and charming as always. But I won't say no to lunch, especially if it's on you."

"Each pays for themselves. Otherwise, you might think it's a date."

"Oh, you wound my heart, cruel tiger."

"You have a heart?!"