CHAPTER 37: CHAPTER 37- RAT DUMMY

The room had fallen into a tense quiet, broken only by the muted hum of the overhead lights and the faint ticking of the old wall clock behind Logan’s desk.

Then — knock, knock, knock.

Three deliberate raps came from the double doors, each one measured and firm, followed by a deep, steady voice.

"I’ve arrived for the branch manager’s request."

Logan’s eyes flickered toward the door, his sharp focus shifting instantly. Without a word, he slid his phone back into the desk drawer with an unhurried motion, the metallic click of the drawer locking into place sounding louder than it should in the stillness.

Across the table, Kaidren’s attention sharpened. The voice and timing told him what he needed to know — the test subject had arrived.

He considered his next step, his mind already drifting toward the jars of potion on the table.

Should he pour the green weakness potion directly on the subject, letting the vapor saturate it? Or would it require ingestion to fully take effect? If it needed to be inside the body... that would complicate things.

Logan’s calm, commanding voice cut through his thoughts.

"Let him in."

The words carried a casual authority.

From outside, the latch clicked softly, and the heavy double doors opened — not abruptly, but with a slow, deliberate movement that matched the knock.

A man stepped inside.

He was dressed in the familiar black tuxedo of the Guardian division, complete with the discreet earpiece coiled against his right ear. His hair was buzz-cut short, black as jet, the cut so sharp it almost reflected the overhead light. A polished silver badge gleamed on his chest — Tier 3 rank. His face was expressionless, professional, the kind of demeanor honed from years of discipline.

But what drew Kaidren’s eyes wasn’t the man. It was what he carried.

A large, reinforced glass box. Inside, movement.

Kaidren’s enhanced vision cut through the glass reflection. The thing inside was a rat — but only in the loosest sense of the word. It was no ordinary rodent. Its fur shimmered faintly in deep, bruised shades of purple, the coarse strands shifting with every twitch of its tense muscles. Its eyes were a pure, unsettling white — no pupils, no color. Long, knife-like ears curved backward, and its tail, dark purple and rope-thick, moved in subtle, restless sways.

And it was big.

By Kaidren’s estimation, it stood at least twenty-five centimeters tall at the shoulder — larger than any Earth rat by a wide margin.

The Guardian approached, careful and deliberate in his steps, the reinforced box balanced with both hands. He stopped before Logan’s desk and dipped his head slightly in a modest bow.

"Branch Manager," he said in a formal tone, "this was the best specimen we could secure on short notice."

He lowered the box onto the table with meticulous care, the glass making a faint, heavy thud against the polished surface. His eyes briefly flicked to the two jars nearby — one green, one yellow — but if he was curious, he didn’t voice it. This was not his place to ask.

Logan’s gaze shifted toward Kaidren, the unspoken question clear in his eyes.

"Will this do?"

Kaidren didn’t answer immediately. His eyes stayed on the creature, studying it, weighing the potential variables. Then, his voice came, low and calm, with no wasted words.

"This will do."

Logan gave a small nod of acknowledgment, then made a subtle gesture toward the Guardian.

"You may leave."

The Guardian bowed slightly again.

"I hope you both have a productive day."

He turned with the same calculated precision he had entered with, moving to the double doors. The hinges gave a soft groan as the doors swung closed behind him, the latch clicking once again into place.

The moment the sound faded, Logan turned back to Kaidren, his voice regaining that faint, testing edge.

"Then... let’s continue. Prove to me this potion is truly worth the claim you’ve given it."

His sharp gaze locked on Kaidren, as though searching for any sign of hesitation.

"Fifteen million," he added with deliberate weight. "That’s not a sum I throw around lightly."

Most would have felt the pressure behind that voice — the subtle but unmistakable reminder that they were standing on the edge of either a deal or a dismissal. But Kaidren remained as he was: still, plain-faced, unaffected.

Without a word, he reached for the green jar. The liquid inside shimmered under the light, a viscous swirl of murky emerald, faint tendrils of vapor curling against the glass like something alive.

Kaidren rose from his seat with slow precision, the jar steady in his grip. The glass box’s lid had a small, square opening at one corner — likely for ventilation. He positioned himself over it.

Logan watched, silent now, his elbows resting lightly on the desk.

Kaidren’s hand moved with deliberate control, tilting the jar just enough for the liquid to begin pouring. A thin stream of green flowed through the air, landing inside the box with a muted splash against the reinforced flooring. The rat’s tail lashed once in irritation, its white eyes tracking the strange intrusion. The potion fall in slow drops, coating the rat’s fur until the sheen of violet was marred by slick streaks of deep green. Each drop landed with a soft, wet patter that seemed unnaturally loud in the silence of the room.

The smell — sharp, chemical, with an undertone of something almost metallic — began to seep faintly from the box.

Kaidren did not flinch. He poured with the exact measure he had calculated in his mind, letting the liquid spread in a shallow pool across the base.

Inside the glass box a sharp, high-pitched squeak broke from the rat’s throat, the sound carrying a tremor of fear. It tried to back away, claws scrabbling against the glass floor, but there was nowhere to go.

Only when Kaidren judged there was enough did he stop. His hand drew back, and he reached for the lid resting at the far corner of the wooden table. He screwed it back onto the jar with the same unhurried rhythm, the faint grind of glass threads meeting echoing softly.

The rat shivered violently, making sharp, jerking motions with its head as if to shake off the heavy, pungent coating. Kaidren watched in silence, his gaze unwavering. Now... we wait.

Across from him, Logan’s attention flicked between the rodent and Kaidren. The branch manager’s crimson eyes narrowed slightly, their sharp glint contrasting against the faint orange glow cast by the table lamp. His elbows rested lightly on the armrests of his chair, fingers steepled for a moment before drumming against the polished wood.

Kaidren set the jar down on the table, the glass giving a muted thud against the wood. He leaned back slightly in his seat, his face unreadable, though his mind moved with quiet calculation. The truth was, pouring the potion directly had been... questionable. It wasn’t the most efficient method—he knew the theory favored ingestion for a faster and more complete effect. Still, there was a chance contact alone might suffice. Maybe.

The rat squirmed and twisted, its tail thrashing against the box’s glass wall. The sound—muted thuds and faint scratches—filled the still air.

A minute passed. Then another.

Logan’s brows drew together, his expression hardening. The silence between them stretched, growing taut. Finally, in his deep, gravelly voice, he asked,

"So... you’ve been lying to me this whole time?"

The words cut through the air like a heavy blade.

Kaidren’s gaze shifted from the rat to Logan, meeting those burning red eyes without a flicker of hesitation. There was something almost comical about the older man’s face right now—the deep-set lines around his mouth, the multiple creases in his furrowed brows, the short red beard bristling like stiff wire. With the buzz-cut hair and that scowl, he looked less like an intimidating authority figure and more like a perpetually grumpy grandfather. The thought almost tugged a smirk from Kaidren’s lips.

If he keeps glaring like that, his face might just stick that way.

Logan’s voice cut in again, sharper this time.

"Kaidren. Are you listening to me?"

Blinking once, Kaidren pulled himself from the idle thought.

"Yes. We should—"

"We should what?" Logan leaned forward, his tone laced with impatience. "You’re stalling. This whole act, this jar, this... potion—are you just here to waste my time?"

The irritation in his voice was real, a weight pressing in with every word. Kaidren could feel it, but it didn’t touch him. His reply was calm, almost flat.

"We should wait a little longer."

Logan’s eyes narrowed further. "Or maybe you’re just bullshitting me from the start."

Before Kaidren could answer, movement drew both their attention back to the glass box.

The violet rat’s frantic writhing slowed. Its body swayed unsteadily, and then it slumped forward. The front half of its body drooped until its head pressed against the glass floor, its limbs slack. Its eyes rolled upward, pupils vanishing under the pale sheen, and a thin line of drool slid from the corner of its mouth.

It stayed that way—completely still.

No twitch of whiskers. No rise and fall of its chest.

The only movement was the slow slide of one forepaw until it rested limp against the glass.

Kaidren’s gaze sharpened. There it is.

In his mind, the conclusion was simple: the potion had taken effect. The signs matched—muscular collapse, loss of coordination, and a near-immediate shutdown of voluntary movement.

Leaning forward slightly, he noticed a faint green residue around the rat’s mouth. That explained it—some of the potion had slipped past its lips, likely mistaken for food or water. That had accelerated the effect.

He was still piecing together the exact sequence of what happened when Logan moved.

The branch manager’s hand—large, weathered, and steady—reached for the glass box. His fingers curled under the edges, lifting it smoothly from the table with surprising ease. The faint scrape of glass against wood filled the brief silence.

Logan brought the box closer to him, holding it at an angle so he could peer inside. The lamplight caught on the rat’s damp fur, highlighting every glistening strand of violet matted by the thick green sheen.

His expression shifted—not the hard suspicion from moments ago, but something quieter. The furrow in his brow eased, replaced by a look that hovered between confusion and curiosity. His eyes scanned the unmoving creature, lingering on the odd slackness of its limbs, the drooping ears, the unblinking eyes.

In the back of his mind, the question formed, unspoken but clear: Is this... really the work of that potion?

Kaidren remained silent, watching him with the same composure he’d held since the beginning.

The faint scent of the potion still hung between them, herbal and acrid, mingling with the polished wood’s scent and the faint coolness of the air. The lamp hummed faintly, its warm light casting the scene in muted gold.

Neither man spoke for a long moment—one weighing what he’d just seen, the other knowing there was no need to explain.