A Zoologist’s Guide to Surviving Magical Creatures

"I'm sorry, Eva. I thought… well, you know…" I trailed off, rubbing the back of my neck. "In my world, when someone says a loved one has gone to heaven, it usually means they've… well…"

Eva waved a hand dismissively, a small, knowing smile on her lips. "It's fine. I'm not upset. You're not from this realm, so I understand there might be cultural differences."

More than cultural differences. I thought grimly.

Mythica played by an entirely different rulebook—one I was still fumbling to understand. But I kept that to myself.

Shoving my embarrassment aside, I turned my attention back to Agnos and Jiuge. The fragment of Space-Time still rested in my palm, pulsing faintly with a strange energy.

"What should I do with this?" I asked, holding it out toward them.

Their reaction was instant—and alarming. Both of them took an abrupt step back, as if I had just thrust a ticking time bomb in their faces.

"Whoa—please don't shove that thing near us!" Agnos' voice was sharper than usual, his usually impassive expression betraying a rare flicker of unease. "The results would be catastrophic. Unknown Gods cannot touch each other's fragments."

I blinked. "Huh? Why not?"

That made no sense. The fragments all came from Kaleon's essence, right? Wouldn't they naturally be connected?

"There's a trigger—a failsafe magic in place," Agnos explained, his gaze fixed warily on the fragment. "Just like how no one can touch Kaleon's core fragments unless they're a Creator, the same principle applies to us."

I frowned. That didn't quite add up.

Enlil and Lady Ilona had touched my token before, and nothing had happened to them. Was there a different rule at play? Maybe one that only applied to those in Mythica?

Curious, I asked, "Okay, but what actually happens if you guys touch it?"

Jiuge's expression darkened. "We'll explode. Literally."

I stiffened. "…Oh."

Right. Definitely not handing this thing over to them.

I liked my special guardians in one piece, not scattered across Mythica in a divine explosion. They were the ones keeping me alive. If they went kaboom, I'd probably be next.

No thanks.

This fragment was way too dangerous. I

needed to keep it secure—tucked away in my backpack.

…Which was still in the buggy.

"Fine, you're right," I said, tightening my grip on the fragment. "Let's get to the buggy. Our task here is done anyway."

But before we could move, Eva stepped forward, blocking our path. "Wait. You can't just leave!"

We exchanged puzzled looks.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Your job isn't finished! You haven't solved the case of the missing people or the creatures going berserk!" she reminded me, frustration clear in her tone.

Oh. Crap.

I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly remembering why we were here in the first place.

My gaze flicked to Amaterasu, who was shifting impatiently, arms crossed, brows furrowed.

I didn't blame her. She had an actual job that affected the entire world—kind of hard to ignore that level of responsibility.

"Well… here's the thing," I began, choosing my words carefully.

"We actually came here to retrieve Amaterasu. She was reported missing, and if we stay to solve the case, I have no idea how long it'll take. Her employment status might be at risk, and, y'know, the world sort of depends on her showing up for work. She is the Sun Goddess, after all."

Eva's lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn't argue.

"Let us take her back first," I suggested. "Then we'll return and help you investigate. Deal?"

Eva hesitated, then finally sighed. "Okay. But you have to promise to come back. We don't know how much worse things might get."

"I promise," I said, raising a hand.

Something about this case still felt off.

But one crisis at a time.

For now, we needed to send Amaterasu back before she got herself fired for overstaying her vacation.

With that settled, I signaled to the others, and we made our way back to the buggy.

The moment we arrived at the parking lot, I grabbed my backpack from the driver's seat and shoved the fragment deep inside.

No way was I letting that thing slip out by accident.

"Alright, let's head back to MECCP," I announced, starting the buggy.

"Erm, before that…" Amaterasu piped up from the back seat. "Drop me off first."

I exhaled heavily. "Yes, Sun Goddess, I didn't forget about you."

As we pulled out of the parking lot, my eyes caught the payment screen—and I nearly dropped my card.

"1,000 Mythica Credits?!"

I gawked at the number, my grip tightening on the wheel. "What is this, a VIP parking spot for celestial chariots? It's a freaking open lot!"

Agnos glanced around, completely unfazed. "No wonder there aren't many vehicles here. That price is outrageous."

I groaned, feeling my soul—and my finances—slowly wither away. This better be reimbursed. No way was I footing the bill for this. This was definitely a work-related expense.

Eva and Trauco waved us off as we left the ancient city of Kazan behind.

Once we cleared the Forest of Forgotten Tales, I dropped Amaterasu at her palace.

Tsukuyomi, her estranged husband, was already waiting for us, much to my surprise. He greeted us warmly, his usual icy demeanor noticeably absent.

And then, before my eyes, the so-called estranged couple wrapped each other in a tight embrace.

I blinked. "Uh… was 'estranged husband' a typo in the report? Because they look very married to me."

Jiuge chuckled. "Oh, it was true. They were both just too proud to admit their mistakes and apologize. Looks like this whole ordeal brought them closer."

She stole a quick glance at Agnos, then turned away, looking out.

Agnos, for his part, remained silent, lost in thought.

I sighed. Marriage was complicated. Good thing I wasn't in one.

"Alright, let's report back to Naga," I said, steering the buggy back onto the main path.

"I have a lot of questions, and we need to review the report on the Forest of Forgotten Tales again. Also, I have something to collect from Naga."

Agnos arched a brow. "Collect what?"

"My precious wines," I said.

Jiuge and Agnos both shot me looks—complicated, confused, and very much judging.

What? A guy needed his priorities.

And I need some compensation for that absurd parking fee at the Ancient City of Kazan anyways.

*************************

We arrived at MECCP HQ, and the first thing I did was march straight to the finance department to submit my reimbursement claim.

No way was I letting that ridiculous parking fee drain my already struggling finances.

A harpy was attending the counter. The moment she saw me, her eyes widened, and she gasped. "Oh! It's Carl! Did you know you're trending again?"

I blinked. "What?" My voice came out higher than I intended. "Trending? For what?"

Me? Trending? Again? I hadn't done anything outrageous lately… right?

She whipped out her phone and showed me a picture. It was me. Disheveled, slightly torched, my face smeared with soot like I'd lost a wrestling match with a fireplace. The caption read:

"Carl is back! Our favorite MECCP staff got torched for stealing a draconic-chicken's food!"

Oh, great. Just great.

Next to it was a video—me, hands up in surrender, facing the hangry Zilant like some unfortunate peace negotiator.

"Genius! Carl has turned a protector into a farm chicken!"

The next clip? Me, tossing dried meat on the ground while the Zilant pecked at it like a common barnyard fowl.

The comment section was thriving. Some were trolls. Some were supportive. Most were just laughing at my expense.

I squinted at the screen. Who took these videos?

Agnos? Jiuge? Even Amaterasu? All of them were prime suspects. But when I scrolled further, my stomach sank.

Betrayal.

Of all people—Eva.

And not only had she posted it, but she'd also added a personal advertisement below the caption:

"Need fast deliveries across Mythica? Try Arion Dash Rider! Speed, efficiency, and reliability!"

Oh. My. Gods.

This was revenge—revenge for me assuming her husband was dead.

I groaned and covered my face, sinking into the counter in sheer mortification.

Then a message pinged on my phone. I checked the notification—it was from Naga.

The message was short. Simple. Ominous.

"Come to my office. Someone wants to meet you."

I stared at the screen.

That was never a good sign.