Chapter 196: [SMALLER]

Eli instinctively snatched the nearest thing that resembled a weapon—a pen—and grabbed it like his life depended on it. The plastic body bent slightly beneath the force of his grip, creaking in protest.

With his other hand, he shoved the picture frame under his bed, hiding it completely before pushing himself to stand.

His knees felt weak. His fingers were stiff. The pen trembled in his hand.

“Hello…?” he called out, only for his voice to crack embarrassingly.

He winced, face heating.

He cleared his throat and tried again, louder, firmer—

“Who’s there?”

Silence.

Nothing but the low hum of the fridge and the muffled skyline noise bleeding through the windows far behind him.

The kitchen door remained dark.

Still.

Too still.

Eli swallowed, feeling his pulse stutter and trip over itself.

’It’s probably Kairo… Caelen… or Mio… or Punzo… or literally ANYONE from those stupid guilds who think “privacy” is a fictional concept—’

CLANK.

Another metallic crash exploded through the apartment—louder, sharper, messier—and Eli jumped, hitting his shoulder against the wall.

His breath punched out of him.

That wasn’t just a pan falling.

That sounded like someone swept an entire shelf off the counter.

His skin prickled.

No way was he imagining this.

Someone was definitely inside.

Someone who either didn’t care or didn’t need to hide.

His hand shook as he crouched again, desperately scanning for something—anything—better than a pen. But all he managed to find was a stupid decorative chopstick he kept for aesthetic photos.

He exhaled shakily.

“…Great,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m going to die holding a pen and a chopstick.”

Still, he gripped the chopstick like a dagger anyway.

’If it’s a kidnapper,’ he told himself, chest tightening painfully, ’I’m stabbing the absolute shit out of them. I don’t care. I’ve been through too much today.’

His fear simmered into a thin, fragile layer of determination.

After surviving an SS-Class serpent, this was nothing.

…Right?

He forced himself forward.

Step by step.

Shadows stretched long across the hallway, pooling at his feet and creeping up his legs as he walked. The air felt unnaturally cold. Every footfall sounded too loud, too sharp.

Like the apartment itself was listening.

Watching.

As he neared the narrow hallway leading into the kitchen, Eli pressed his back flat against the wall, clutching his makeshift “weapons” so tightly his knuckles turned pale.

His breath hitched when—

shff—

A shuffle.

Soft.

But unmistakable.

Then—

CLATTER.

Something slid off the counter and hit the floor with a hollow metallic bounce.

Eli’s heartbeat roared in his ears.

He closed his eyes for one shaky second.

Eli raised the pen, his wrist trembling but locked in place.

He counted silently, breath shallow.

One.

Two.

Three—

He leaned in and peeked around the doorway.

And froze.

The kitchen… was empty.

Not just quiet—empty.

No intruder.

No hunter barging in unannounced.

No towering shadow waiting to grab him.

Just—

Pans scattered across the tiles.

A cupboard swung open, the hinges clicking faintly as it rocked.

A spoon lying several feet away as if it had been thrown.

Eli blinked. Once. Twice. His brain struggled to catch up with what his eyes were seeing.

“…What?”

His voice wobbled.

He stepped forward slowly, every muscle tight, the pen held out like it could actually protect him from anything stronger than a cockroach.

Nothing moved.

But nothing felt normal, either.

The mess was real.

The sounds had been real.

Someone—or something—had been here.

Seconds ago.

Eli’s throat tightened, a sharp, painful knot forming as confusion flooded him.

“W…What the hell…?” he whispered, voice trembling into the air.

He forced himself forward again, each step sinking into dread. His heart thumped so violently in his chest he could feel it in his teeth.

The kitchen tiles were cold. Too cold.

His breath fogged slightly in the air.

He didn’t know why that scared him even more.

He scanned the counters, the corners, behind the fridge—nothing. Nobody.

And then—

FZZT—

The lights flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Eli jerked his head up instinctively, breath catching.

He didn’t feel danger.

Not like the instinctive “run or die” he felt in the dungeon.

But something was wrong.

Something was here.

The lights continued to stutter, flickering like an old horror movie scene. Eli’s eyes darted everywhere—the sink, under the table, the windows.

“Okay—okay—no,” he muttered, voice getting louder with fear and irritation. “No more of this. I’m done.”

He stepped further into the kitchen, directly under the flickering light.

“Who are you?!” he shouted, anger cracking through his fear. “What do you want?!”

For one long second, the bulbs buzzed overhead like they were thinking about answering him.

Then—

The lights stopped flickering.

Instantly.

The apartment went still again.

Silent.

Too silent.

Eli let out a shaky exhale and ran a trembling hand through his hair—

—or tried to.

Something small hit the top of his head.

A soft tap. Light.

Like a droplet.

Or—

Dust?

No…it was bigger.

Eli stiffened.

He slowly lifted his gaze to the ceiling.

’Was that…from above?’

He leaned back a little more—

His breath caught.

“…S-Something’s moving?” he whispered, voice shrinking into the cold kitchen air.

His eyes widened.

Because something was moving.

Not on the ceiling.

Not across the room.

On him.

On his head.

A cold shock stabbed down his spine.

Then—

A tiny weight scuttled across his scalp.

Panic detonated instantly.

“W-What—what is— I— fuck!” Eli’s voice broke, high and full of pure terror as his hands flew up, fingers digging through his hair.

He felt it—something small, quick, alive—darting away from his grip.

It slid from the back of his head to the nape of his neck, a ticklish, horrifying sensation like a cold thread slithering down his skin.

Eli shrieked, twisting on instinct.

“GET OUT—GET—g-get out! Get away from me!” he yelled, slapping at his own shoulder, his back, anywhere he felt the movement.

He stumbled into the counter, knocking over a mug. It shattered against the floor.

The thing wriggled deeper, slipping under the collar of his shirt.

Eli nearly sobbed.

’No no no no—in my shirt?! Fuck—fuck—fuck—’

He started hopping in place like a panicked rabbit, clawing at his clothes, trying to shake the creature loose.

Every time he smacked his torso, he felt it dodge, skittering lower—

Down his spine.

Across his ribs.

Eli’s breath came out ragged, hysterical, the words tumbling out between gasps:

“GET—OFF—ME!”

Eli’s scream cracked into something unhinged—wild, panicked, and so utterly done with life—as he kept smacking at his torso like he was in a fistfight with the air.

The thing shot down his spine—

then lower—

WAY lower—

“NO NO NO—NOT THERE—NOT—GET OUT!!”

He nearly faceplanted as the creature darted straight into his pants. The waistband tugged sharply, fabric shifting as something wriggled along his hip like a horrible, slimy, electric noodle trying to commit a crime.

“NO NO NO NO—GET OUT OF MY PANTS—WHAT ARE YOU DOING—!!”

He grabbed his waistband with both hands, jumping in place like someone set his legs on fire, shaking his entire lower body in absolute terror.

And then—

fwip—!

The creature slipped out from the bottom of his pant leg, plopping onto the floor with a soft, wet sound.

Eli’s instincts ignited.

’Oh, I’m going to kill you—’

He lifted his foot, ready to stomp it so hard it would reincarnate as dust—

But then—

“Y-You?!”

His voice cracked so violently it could’ve shattered glass.

His leg hung mid-air, frozen stupidly like he was paused mid-dance move.

Because on the floor…

…was a worm.

A tiny…

glowing…

blue-tinted…

wide-eyed…

worm.

Except it wasn’t a worm.

Not even remotely.

Eli’s pupils blew wide.

His breath hitched.

His stomach dropped like a stone.

“…S-Serpent…?”

The creature blinked up at him.

Then, in the smallest, most enthusiastic squeak—

“Ssshh!”

It tilted its tiny head, oversized glowing blue eyes staring at him with the same energy as a puppy seeing its beloved human.

No.

No way.

NO. WAY.

Eli dropped into a crouch so fast he almost cracked his kneecaps.

His shaking hand reached out on instinct.

The tiny serpent perked up—then happily slithered forward and curled right into his palm as if saying finally, you slow idiot.

“Holy—holy shit,” Eli whispered, breath trembling. “You’re… you’re the serpent. You’re the serpent. You’re—how—how are you—how—”

The miniature serpent—formerly a towering SS-Class monster—was now the size of a long noodle. Its smooth scales gleamed faint blue-purple under his kitchen light, shimmering like bioluminescent glass.

It coiled into his palm, delighted.

Soft electricity tickled across his skin—gentle, harmless.

Eli flinched, nearly dropping it.

“T—that tickles—stop—what are you—what is happening—”

The serpent curled snugly around his fingers, tiny tail looping around his knuckle like it was claiming him.

It wasn’t hurting him.

It wasn’t hunting him.

It wasn’t angry.

It was…

Happy.

Joyful.

Relieved.

Eli’s chest constricted so sharply it stole his breath.

He stared down at the little creature, disbelief crashing through him like cold water.

“…You’re real,” he whispered, voice trembling. “You’re really alive…”

The serpent’s tail flicked proudly—like a smug little nod.

And as Eli wiped cold sweat from his forehead with his free hand, the creature lifted its tiny head, glowing eyes narrowing softly—

Then it spoke.

Clearer than before.

“O…ri…on.”

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