CHAPTER 372: CHAPTER -372

Yes, today had stripped her pride. Yes, she’d seen exactly how weak she was compared to this world.

But weakness wasn’t a full stop—it was just a point on the road.

From now on, she decided, she wouldn’t just "survive" under someone else’s wing.

Before she ever walked away from Cutie and Veer, before she left them for whatever came next, she would make sure the scales were balanced.

They had fed her. She would feed them back.

They had sheltered her. She would give them something that lasted even if she wasn’t beside them anymore.

They had spent their stones on her—white, purple, red—so she would make enough to throw those numbers back in their faces one day.

Not out of guilt.

Out of choice.

Her lips curled into a small, humorless smile.

"Fine," she thought. "You two want to invest in me? Then I’ll make sure the return hurts your eyes."

She looked down at her hands again, flexing her fingers slowly.

These hands had killed before; they’d dragged her through hell once already.

Here, they would learn again—from scratch if they had to.

Learn every beast trait she could.

Learn how every type moved, attacked, bled.

Turn this world’s rules into her own weapon instead of a noose.

One thing was clear now: she owed Veer and Cutie.

But she would ’not’ leave this world as someone they had to constantly save.

Before she walked away from them—if that day ever came—she would make sure they had enough money, enough safety, and enough backup plans that they could laugh about "that crazy human woman" over drinks without a single worry.

And if anyone dared to touch them because of her?

Well.

Kaya’s eyes hardened.

She might feel like nothing right now.

But nothing could still learn how to bite.

.

.

.

Kaya had never thought her words would come true this fast.

Bang.

The gunshot cracked through the room like lightning, making her ears ring and her chest jolt. The sharp smell of smoke and burnt metal rushed up her nose as she stumbled back, shoulder slamming into the wall. Warmth slid down from her forehead, a thin line of blood tickling its way past her eyebrow toward her cheek.

Cutie was on the floor, sitting hard on his ass, his hands spread behind him, eyes blown wide. The whole room seemed to buzz, the sound fading in and out like she was underwater.

In front of him lay a huge bear beastman, sprawled on the wooden floor. A dark, wet pool crept out from under his head, thick and shiny, the metallic smell of blood mixing with the gunpowder in the air. Right in the middle of his skull was a neat, black bullet hole.

And the echo of the shot was still hanging there, heavy and unreal, as everything else went quiet.

Huff huff hufff

The only sound that could be heard is kaya breathing, and cutie, slightly trembling, breathe, while the Sparrow was slightly far away on the ground. There is no scene of Veer, like he was not here. On yhe ground were even more beastmen body about six of them but others were just hyneas and jackass and monguels the sparrow was also badly injured just a few minutes ago they were all siting calmly but now this room had turned into bloody scene

The only sound left in the room was breathing.

Kaya’s was rough and uneven, dragging in and out of her chest, while Cutie’s came in small, trembling pulls, like he was forcing each one past his teeth.

Further away, Sparrow lay half‑curled on the ground, one wing twisted at a bad angle, feathers matted with blood. He let out a weak, broken hiss every few seconds, then went quiet again. There was no sign of Veer at all—as if he had never been in the building.

The room stank now. The sharp, bitter smell of gunpowder still hung in the air, mixing with the heavy, metallic stink of fresh blood. The wooden floor, which a few minutes ago had been clean and calm under their feet, was now smeared dark—sticky patches where boots had slid, splashes on the lower parts of the walls, dots of red on the broken door.

Six more beastmen bodies lay scattered across the room—hyena, jackal, mongoose types, their twisted limbs and open eyes staring at nothing. Some had bite marks, some had clean holes through their skulls or chests, some were half‑shifted, claws still out like they’d died mid‑attack. A chair lay on its side. One table leg was cracked. A glass had shattered near the wall, its shards glittering faintly in the dim light, wet with red.

Just a few minutes ago, they had all been sitting here, talking, .

Now the room looked like a slaughterhouse.

.

.

.

An hour ago.

The light outside was in that strange in‑between state—no longer day, not fully night.

Through the window, the sky looked washed in deep blue and purple, and the first streetlights along the road had just flicked on, their pale glow breaking into soft circles on the ground.

Inside, the room felt quieter than before.

The sun was gone, so the sharp brightness had faded, leaving long shadows stretching from the table legs and chairs, reaching toward the walls like dark fingers.

From outside came the low murmur of evening—stall owners closing up, a cart rolling past, someone laughing somewhere down the street—but all of it sounded distant, like it belonged to another world.

Kaya stepped out of the side room and paused for a moment, letting her eyes adjust.

The lamplight inside hadn’t been turned up yet, so the room was lit by a weak mix of dim lamp and streetlight spilling in through the window, leaving some parts clear and some swallowed in shadow.

Cutie was at the table, his face half in light, half in shadow.

His fingers rested around an empty cup, and when he heard her footsteps, he lifted his head, the light from outside catching the edge of his eyes.