*Click*

  The empty revolver went click as I held the cold steel. The hammer went off without a hitch. There was no cartridge, this was routine.

  My fingers tipped over the cylinder, a rough transition. I then pushed the ejector pod. The extractor had some push. I got sloppy, my teeth bit down on how recklessly I treated the gun.

  The only memory I had left of them.

  That line of questioning wasn't going to end well.

  My hands disassembled the parts. I grabbed the foul smelling solvent and brushed down the barrel with a copper rod. The metal chilled to the touch

  I went through the procedure of scrubbing down the parts in order. My ears listened in as a toothbrush scrubbed every little part.

  The cleaning supplies fell onto the table. I took one good look at the gun, at most angles, from side to side. The polished metal shined from the window in which light reflected and warmed the room.

  The revolver pointed at the wall. My fingers squeezed at the trigger.

  *Click*

  The gun shook, and the hammer trembled. The cylinder rotated. The tips of my hands felt the smooth contours of the gun, a good amount of tork that was in the parts. Steel that looked as new as I found it.

  All was good, all was fine. I stowed away the revolver with a delicate grip and shoved the cleaning supplies away.

  -o-0-o-

  There was much about this world that I accepted without a doubt.

  I knew that everybody, including the operatives didn't like me, they didn't even tolerate me. They saw me as nothing but a mad dog. I accepted that fact.

  The red collar on my neck was a mark of shame, and yet I came to truth with what I was, a tool to be used, and discarded.

  That wasn't my official title. On the outside, I was an Imperial operative, but the same old house, a new coat of paint. There was a certain mundanity to the facts, a toil in everyday life, and yet I had to keep moving forward.

  I thought about the catboy all over again. My skin recalled the time I grabbed onto his hands. Every ounce of fibre that ran down my hand, and sent shivers up my spine. The sensation was more than the physical sense.

  Every time I thought about him had the same sensation, but he was a reminder what I could've done without the 1st class’ intervention, a bit of tension lashed into my head, my stomach reeled from the memory. I still felt his hair when I held onto his ears.

  Bullying the weak was a weakness in itself. My fragile pride got me to where I am now, not the catboy.

  Which was to say that I can deny it no longer. The catboy got stronger. He even outperformed me in some areas.

  However, I was also remiss to allow that fact to remain for long.

  The catboy was nothing more than a spoiled prince for a tribe. He acted pathetic, and what did he get? The love and admiration from all, especially from that 1st class pampered his every need.

  If I trained hard enough, really tried, I could overtake him.

  The sun hung out. The ball of fire illuminated the training courtyard, so bright that the sun could bleach eyes.

  All the other operatives went through their training. I listened to all the wear and tear of the equipment, catboy included.

  My feet hung on a pair of wooden posts. A body bag swung in my direction. I hopped out of the way. The chains rattled at the ends of my ear. My legs wobbled with each step. My footwork wasn't nearly as good compared to the catboy’s, however, I made progress.

  I have to work at precision for the next few months, but that was doable. Catching up to the catboy was all that mattered.

  I hit another bag. The impact from my short sword launched the bag into the air. Its chains rattled as I dodged another dummy coming after me.

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  My boots clattered onto the wood. The poles creaked from the force. A rough landing, too sloppy. At this rate, I wasn't catching up to the catboy. My sword drove into the soft-leather body bag. All my energy, all my focus was on one point.

  Going beyond my limit.

  I went there before, like the anima break. I did! I had the capabilities. All I had to do was—

  “Nya!~” a meow pierced my ears.

  Is that the catboy? I stopped what I was doing.

  The cayboy pounced on a red dot. I gawked as the 1st class moved the laser emitter. Everyone else honed their skills. I went above and beyond, and all that he did was play with a toy.

  The pathetic on display that—

  My ears tore their attention away from the rattling chains. The training dummy is behind me, isn't it?

  “Gawk!” I cried out. My body felt the leather dummy bump me from behind.

  I landed on the pavement, face flat. My eyes darted around the room. Nobody bothered to help me, we were tougher than that. Although I wasn't hurt in the physical sense, something died deep down.

  I picked myself up and sat near a bench. Not like I needed anyone’s help, I was perfectly fine on my own.

  “Nya!~” The catboy shouted. Like an enthusiastic kitten, he chased after the red dot. The light on the floor disappeared from the beastkin, and he looked around with his slit eyes. He hunched over. Donovan patted the catboy on the back. That 1st class spouted words that I couldn’t hear from the distance.

  Typical beastkin behavoir. There were little trusting them when their needs go to their tribe instead of the people; nyancans, and lycans alike.

  Especially the kitsune in Mamba Market.

  My hands twisted at the metal container I held. It blistered the skin. I felt the heat pressed down on my flesh. The container dented slightly under my pressure. I let go from the bottle, and took a sip.

  I unlocked a painful memory, nothing more.

  There was only one good beastkin that I could trace on my finger as trustworthy, but he was the exception; that catboy.

  I caught myself caressing the wooden bench. Sweat glistened off my forehead and ran down my body. That catboy and the 1st class conversed — They were coming to where I trained before getting knocked off.

  Donovan handed the catboy a blindfold. Curiosity struck me at a time’s notice. I couldn’t help but to wonder. I had to compare what he was doing. We were so far away, yet so close. The training equipment and the catboy were faintly audible. His ears swirled around as they picked up my presence. He knew that I was there.

  The beastkin jumped up. He landed onto the post. The catboy was light as a feather, and yet he put weight on his movements. Each step was a symphony of movements, controlled to the nearest muscle, like a morrinette on a string.

  The chains passed the nyancan. He stepped out of the way, not dodge, he walked so naturally that his movements seemed so effortless.

  There was no doubt in my mind. He improved far beyond my predictions.

  But… but how? I worked far harder than what he had. All that the catboy ever did was nothing compared to the other operatives. He frolicked with the laser pointer, while I put my blood and sweat into improvement.

  My eyes stayed still. They sent their signal that they were moving, I followed along; towards the catboy. What I witnessed made little sense.

  Did he have talent? Was he better than me? He went far beyond what I was capable of. The gap between us seemed so wide.

  “Lyle,” Donovan's voice made me look away from the catboy. “You look distracted,” the 1st class told me in a neutral voice. “What are you thinking about?”

  A shiver coerced through my spine. “Nothing of importance,” I replied.

  “Lyle, you're not exactly telling the truth. How about you come here, so that we can have a talk,” his smile told little.

  My legs pulsed as I straightened my body. Yes, I held myself down from making any moves, from the impulses, and the shivers.

  In the span of one conversation, Donovan brought up the catboy, the way that I stared at him during the time; and the different fashion of collars I could wear. The conversation reached an ad nauseam of topics that we already discussed before. I was tired of the drag, the fact that I had to listen to the 1st class prattle, and yet I couldn’t say a word that mattered.

  “...And how about you, Lyle? Where has the time gone? Since you seem so sure of yourself, how about you join us during our training; me and Mekiko,” his grin widened. What he said sounded more like a demand behind those multiple questions.

  So, what are we going to do? The catboy and I could take turns playing with the laser? I inwardly scoffed.

  “I decided that we are going to take it easy for today,” it was as if Donovan read my mind. “Mekiko, take off your blindfold.”

  The catboy obliges, “we took it easy yesterday, and the day before that. I have the littlest bit tiny suspicion that we are taking it easy tomorrow as well,” the nyancan sighed.

  “Mekiko, you need to work on the fundamentals if you wish to improve. Intense work isn't practiced training. I saw how your footwork is less than satisfactory. You need to first take the steps of the fundamentals if you have to soar.”

  The catboy lowered his head, “I… I understand Donovan.”

  He petted the beastkin’s head, “You don’t need to fold your ears, Mekiko. I only told you what you needed to know.”

  The catboy hid behind his 1st class yet again. Why was he so intent on showing his weakness?

  “How about we first start off with the light exercise? Mekiko, you can show him how fast you can run. Lyle, you can follow his lead.”

  The way the demon spoke sounded like I was going out for a walk around the block, however, I knew better.

  Nothing was ever easy as initially seemed.