Before Albert could fully process what had just happened, several subordinates had already hauled him away.
They brought him to a separate tent and ordered him to wash in a large wooden tub filled with water. Conditions in the post-apocalyptic world were harsh—luxuries like hot baths were practically extinct. But because Albert had been personally claimed by their Commander, the soldiers exchanged looks, hesitated a moment, and ultimately decided to give him the highest treatment they could offer: they heated the water just for him.
One of them muttered under his breath, "This guy's really lucky. He actually caught the Commander's eye. Hey—clean yourself properly!"
Albert was completely baffled by the situation.
Still, since a bath was offered, he wasn't going to overthink it.
His current body belonged to an ordinary, ability-less human. Judging from the state he'd been in, he likely hadn't lived well at all since the apocalypse began. His body was filthy, crusted with dirt, and his hair was a tangled, greasy mess…
No wonder the snow leopard had looked at him with such disgust. Even Albert felt embarrassed seeing himself like this.
After scrubbing off layers of grime, Albert put on a set of clean clothes provided by the guards. Then they escorted him to Commander Hayes's tent.
"Enter."
A cool voice drifted from inside.
At that command, the guard carefully lifted the tent flap and gestured for Albert to go in alone.
Albert shut his eyes, inhaled deeply twice, bracing himself like a man walking to the gallows. Then he stepped inside.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself only a few steps away from the massive snow leopard.
Hayes, still in his beast form, occupied most of the tent. The breathtaking creature had long, powerful limbs and an imposing body that radiated authority even in stillness. Round, crystalline eyes watched Albert in silence. Meanwhile, the leopard's tail struck the ground several times like a whip—restrained but restless—his entire body emanating tightly wound tension.
Albert mimicked the soldiers' etiquette. "Commander Hayes."
The beast opened its mouth. "Come here."
"Uh…" Albert looked down at his own feet.
The snow leopard bared a line of sharp, gleaming teeth. "Do you not understand?"
"I understand." Albert replied evenly—but still didn't move. Instead, he began to shower Hayes with flattery in the most unhurried manner. "I didn't get a proper look at you earlier. Now that I see you clearly, I realize how mighty and impressive you are, Commander. So handsome and, uh…"
Hayes clearly wasn't interested. He lifted half his muzzle in impatience, the breath from his nose ruffling his own whiskers. "Speak plainly."
Albert gave him a harmless smile. "Well, it's like this. I haven't eaten for days—nothing at all. Commander, since you've already let me bathe… could you maybe let me fill my stomach too?"
Albert was starving.
His current body had probably gone days without proper food. His stomach burned with hunger, twisting painfully.
To make matters worse, on the way here he'd passed a group of guards roasting meat over a fire. The aroma alone had nearly sent him to heaven.
So Albert thought, to hell with pride.
Even if he was about to die, getting a real bath and eating something greasy in this world would make the whole ordeal worth it.
After he finished speaking, the snow leopard narrowed its eyes.
Most people would be terrified just seeing a normal-sized snow leopard, let alone this giant beast—easily over ten times the size of an ordinary one. The visual impact was indescribable.
Silence stretched between man and beast.
"…Okay, maybe I'm dreaming," Albert murmured internally.
Under that oppressive gaze, Albert's attitude flipped immediately. "Not eating is fine too. I was only talking. I can endure it."
He could hold on. He wouldn't starve to death immediately.
Unexpectedly, Hayes's expression eased. Instead of snapping at him, the snow leopard raised his head and called toward the outside.
"I told you to get him cleaned up. Why didn't he get any food? Bring him something."
Less than two minutes later, a guard entered with a heaping plate of roasted meat.
The meat was still steaming, cut into thick slices. The surface was slightly charred, but the inside was tender and juicy, fat sizzling along the edges.
The smell was mouth-watering—but the taste—
Albert grabbed the makeshift wooden fork, speared a piece, and tried it.
The meat itself was good, but only seasoned with salt, and the gamy aftertaste was unmistakable.
In his previous life, Albert wouldn't have eaten a second bite. But in this world? This was already luxurious. Without Hayes, he would probably be chewing bark with the other drifters.
His hunger didn't allow him to think any further. He simply lowered his head and ate.
Hayes watched him from the side.
Albert had a face that seemed utterly harmless.
Handsome, refined, with gentle features that lacked sharpness or aggression, he looked anything but confrontational. He carried the rare air of a well-educated scholar—something almost extinct in the post-apocalyptic world. Like a clean-cut university student who'd never been hardened by society.
He stood around 6′1″–6′2″ tall, with a well-proportioned frame. But after wandering the wasteland without food, he'd grown noticeably lean.
Perhaps sheer starvation drove him, but he ate with surprising speed—though not crudely. Even in his desperation, his movements were measured, his chewing neat and restrained. The posture of someone who had once been a well-bred young master, raised in comfort before the world crumbled.
…Passable, Hayes thought. Barely acceptable.
After finishing his initial inspection, the snow leopard let out a faint huff through his nose.
He'd seen countless people like Albert—ordinary humans with no abilities, living miserable, degraded lives in the apocalypse.
If not for the peculiar scent clinging to this man, then no matter how handsome Albert might be, he would have been nothing more than a decorative vase—irrelevant, forgettable, beneath Hayes's notice.
Hayes hadn't planned to intervene tonight. When the disturbance broke out in the camp, he had been lying inside his tent, exhausted and irritable, half-dazed from the torment of his mating cycle.
Then his acute animal senses caught a faint, indescribable scent.
A light, clean fragrance—green, airy, like fresh plants.
At first whiff, it seemed nothing noteworthy.
But as the scent slowly permeated the air, drifting deeper into his lungs, the restless heat boiling inside his body inexplicably began to ease. Bit by bit, the discomfort ebbed away.
For the first time in days, clarity cut through the haze. Hayes's eyes had snapped open, pupils narrowing as he turned sharply toward the source of that smell.
…And everything had unfolded from there.
The mating cycle was unbearable. If he could help it, Hayes would never go through a second one in his lifetime.
He didn't understand why this drifter carried such a scent—or the principles behind its effect—but Hayes had decided to give the man a chance.
Albert finally finished eating.
The refined man even asked, "Do you have a napkin?" as he handed his empty bowl back to a subordinate.
The soldier stared at him like he'd just asked to borrow the moon. After a moment of hesitation, he reached outside, tore off a broad leaf, and offered it to Albert with both hands.
By the time Albert was finally "taken care of," Hayes's patience had long since burned out.
Without uttering a single word, the snow leopard's long, spotted tail flicked forward, wrapping tightly around Albert's waist.
Albert's feet left the ground.
His entire body was hoisted up by the leopard's tail as if he weighed nothing.
It happened too quickly. Albert's vision spun; his heart lurched violently inside his chest.
Then—thud—his whole body landed against the snow leopard.
…Soft.
It didn't hurt at all.
Warm, plush, expansive—like a giant heated mattress wrapped in velvety fur.