"Are you gonna hit me?" Malcolm asked.

He was as stubborn as a mule.

What exactly had his previous owner done to him? He'd been treated that badly and still refused to back down. Instead, he snapped at everyone he saw.

I ignored his little games and tossed him an ointment. "Apply this three times a day. Do it yourself."

He stared at the white cream for a long moment, as if he'd never seen anything like it.

Probably in his mind, everyone was a liar, and my gesture was likely some kind of manipulation. He likely thought that someday, I'd snap and lash out like his previous buyers.

But he guessed wrong.

I was poor and stingy. This deal was definitely a loss that made my chest ache, but I couldn't just stand by and watch him suffer.

At worst, I could send him to a factory to work once he was better and make a little money back. Then I'd get a reliable beast partner and move on.

When he still didn't move, I turned to leave. "I'm going to work."

-

The sky-high restaurant sat on the 54th floor, where the city lights stretched out like a glittering ocean below.

Working here paid well, and tips were generous. However, I was just a food runner.

The manager, Simon Carter, once said, "You're not pretty enough. Here, dining is about the view. We can't have something that looks like a cheap fake sitting in a luxury showroom, right?"

All the servers here had to be tall, fit, and good-looking. That was the only way to justify the kind of money the guests spent. Every single one of them was almost unfairly attractive.

There were beautiful humans, and even fox shifters, a race famous for their looks.

The kitchen had fewer rules since you didn't have to face customers.

I always kept to myself. That changed last month when I overheard a coworker talking about getting matched with a werewolf partner.

"By the time it cleared all the approvals, it was over 50 grand. That's almost my whole year's salary. But at least when I go home now, I'm not alone. Just thinking about someone waiting for me makes work feel worth it."

I didn't have that kind of money, but I wanted someone waiting at home too.

So I started browsing the secondhand trading platforms.

I counted my savings.

I had worked through college, but tuition had been covered by my parents. So for two years after graduation, I had been paying off my tuition.

After my parents divorced, I felt like a ball being kicked back and forth between them.

They didn't even want me to go to college. In the end, it was our elders who stepped in, forcing them to split the cost evenly.

At the time, they agreed to pay for school. However, there was a condition.

"You can study, but once you graduate, you have to pay us back."

I was in a rush to pay off my debt, so I took the first high-paying logistics job I could find after graduation.

I managed to make about three thousand dollars that first month, there was barely anything left to pay them back.

And that job really botched my career launch, making it way harder to find a better one later.

By the time I went to submit resumes again, I realized I was far behind my classmates.

Also, HR wasn't impressed with my first job.

"I find Ms. Jones lacks business skills and experience. She's not suitable for our position."

Kids from ordinary families sometimes had a narrow view. One wrong step early on could make everything afterward feel off.

I was so focused on paying off my debt that I forgot to seize opportunities in the moment.

Debt alone didn't crush you. It was seizing the right opportunities that mattered most.

In my twenties, I didn't understand that. I just wanted to clear my debts and even the score.

My mom had said, "I can only support you until you're eighteen."

Later, I searched everywhere for work, only to be belittled again.

"If I had known you'd end up doing this kind of job, I wouldn't have wasted money sending you to college!"

Back then, I cried almost every day.

In my empty, dark rental apartment, the only sound was my own breathing.

Thankfully, I finally had some savings after years of hard work.

And that was how I managed to buy Malcolm with his terrible temper.

Being a food runner was simple. I moved constantly between the kitchen and the dining area.

I was so busy that I hardly had time to think about Malcolm.

But sometimes, I couldn't help worrying about his tattered tail and the shoulder blades sticking out of his thin back.

Malcolm should eat more nutritious food.

Getting leftover food from the kitchen wasn't difficult. Besides, most of the dishes were barely touched.

Take that Crimson lobster, for example. The guests only nibbled the broccoli garnish and a bit of the meat. It barely looked any different.

My coworker grinned, holding a takeout box.

"Grace, if you don't want it, I'm taking it home!"

I hurriedly grabbed a plastic bag. "Share half with me!"

By the time I finished work, it was exactly 11:30 p.m.

The neon lights still flashed outside, but down in the sewers, rats poked their heads out.

People like me always lived in corners the light didn't reach, like the rats in the gutter.

Now I had Malcolm with me.

We would probably be relying on each other for a long time.

I packed the food and brought it home. When I saw Malcolm, I noted that most of his injuries had already healed.

Mermen healed fast. If someone didn't deliberately keep reopening wounds, the scars wouldn't be this bad. I didn't know what his previous owner had done to him to cause such deep damage to his tail.

I opened the takeout box, and the aroma filled the room.

Malcolm only glanced at it, showing little interest.

He kept flipping through the same magazine, even though I'm sure he'd gone through it nearly a hundred times.

I tried to coax him gently. "Dinner's ready."

He turned his head and scanned me from head to toe. There was a hint of curiosity in his deep blue eyes.

"Do I need to do anything?"

I was confused. "Like what?"

Malcolm pushed himself up slightly, his tail dragging across the floor.

The scales that had healed over the past two days shimmered with an almost dazzling, otherworldly color.

"Only good kids get to eat, but I'm not a good kid."

Malcolm's voice was low. "I bite, I hurt myself, and I just don't obey."

No wonder his previous owner had transferred him to me.

He let out a soft, dark laugh. "What about you? Don't you want me to obey?"

He leaned in, his tongue brushing lightly against my neck. Even his tone carried a strange, almost wicked edge.

"What about you, Master? Don't you want me to please you?"

He emphasized the word Master, and it sounded almost seductive.

But I suspected that back when he had said this to someone else, it had only been a prelude to trying to bite through their veins.

I pushed him back and shoved a piece of lobster into his mouth.

"Buying damaged goods like you is my bad luck, but I have no intention of forcing you," I said.

Beastmen came in two kinds.

Some could live independently, as humans do. Others were companion-type, entirely reliant on human care while offering emotional support in return.

You could apply through an agency, get approved, pay a hefty fee, and be matched with a suitable companion.

Because the cost was so high, private transactions were common. However, the quality of beastmen varied widely.

Malcolm was a perfect example. He was sharp-tongued, foul-tempered, and impossible to handle.

He had clearly been starving. His eyes went a little blank as he tasted the food.

I fed him slowly until he finished everything cleanly.

A drop of creamy mushroom soup slid down Malcolm's lips, looking almost tempting. He flicked out his deep red tongue and licked it clean.

Then, he went back to flipping through the old magazine.

I crouched by the storage box and rummaged around, somehow pulling out an ancient, clunky phone. It was heavy as a brick and took forever to boot up, but it could still connect to the internet. At most, he could listen to music or read e-books to pass the time.

I tossed the relic to Malcolm. He stared at it for a long while, speechless.

Finally, he managed to say, "Aren't you afraid I'll run away? For the past seven months, I was locked in a basement. I had nothing but a little water to keep from dying. Nothing else. There were bare walls on all sides, and every day felt empty. The only thing I could do was stare off into space."

Malcolm pressed his lips together, his voice hoarse. "Why are you being so good to me?"

"I have no memories, I have a terrible temper, and my previous owner said I'm the laziest merman in the world. She tried raising me for almost a year and couldn't tame me, so she passed me off to you. Shouldn't you continue tormenting me? Why are you being kind instead?"

I smirked.

"I'll be far worse than she ever was. Once you heal and your tail splits into legs, I'll send you to the factory to work. All your wages go to me. You'll do all the housework, and you'll still have to go shopping and try on clothes with me."

Malcolm blinked. "Isn't that... what a husband is supposed to do?"

I pretended not to hear him.

After a month of caring for Malcolm, things started to feel off.

His injuries had long healed. His tail fin was slowly disappearing, and the shape of his legs was becoming clear.

But the rest of him was restless.

His skin had a strange pink flush, and his breathing was heavy, like he had just run a marathon. He even dragged out my old, worn T-shirts and bedsheets, piled them together, and curled up inside like a nest. Then he just stared at me with wet, intense eyes.

I asked in the merman owners' group chat.

ColdBriefs: [My fish is acting up.]

NoCilantro: [What kind of symptoms?]

ColdBriefs: [Turning pink... and nesting.]

YellowFaceGirl: [Ah, he's in rut. First time?]

I glared at the twisting bundle on the bed.

"Have you ever felt like this before?"

Malcolm let out a soft, quiet hum. It was only a sound, but it lingered in the air for a long time.

"Doesn't... seem so."

ColdBriefs: [First time.]

YellowFaceGirl: [That's going to be tricky. The first time is especially intense.]

NoCilantro: [Those of us who understand, understand. Make sure you have protection ready. Mermen in the beastman world are... well, famous for it.]

My hands froze over the keyboard.

ColdBriefs: [There's really no other way?]

YellowFaceGirl: [There is. The pharmacy has suppressant injections, but I wouldn't recommend it. The first time is extremely important for both sides.]

NoCilantro: [Even if you suppress it now, the next one will be worse. And if a merman dislikes you, he won't even enter this state.]

So that meant... Malcolm liked me?

His tail fin began to dissolve little by little, the shape of his legs slowly taking form. Before long, a pair of long, straight legs had fully emerged.

Malcolm felt like a completely different person.

The look in his eyes was like a predator zeroing in on its only prey, filled with an undeniable possessiveness.

I felt totally vulnerable, like I was about to be devoured. I grabbed my coat and bolted for the door, locking him in the bedroom on the way out.

-

The suppressant injection cost five hundred dollars, and my account was so empty I couldn't even afford instant noodles.

I had no choice but to shamelessly borrow money from a coworker. When I mentioned the reason for it, she sounded surprised.

"Grace, didn't you get a merman so you'd have a companion? He's right there. Why are you running?"

Even though she said that, she transferred the money over.

"You've been alone too long, and you've forgotten how to be close to someone. The injection would hurt him. He'd feel rejected."

On the way back, I kept thinking about whether I should give him that shot.

I'd spent too many lonely days on my own, and deep down, I wanted someone to share meals with, someone to lie down beside at night. I wanted someone I could lean on to talk about what was on my mind, or just let myself cry in their arms without holding back.

Malcolm had shown me all his secrets, and I had been hiding mine.

All he knew was that I was a broke, working-class woman.

-

When I pushed open the door, the lights were off.

He had wrapped himself in the blanket, leaving only the top of his head poking out.

He called out softly, his voice hoarse. "Grace... It's so hot..."

His body was scalding hot.

I had just sat down at the edge of the bed when he wrapped his arms around me from behind.