Felix descended the stairs, half expecting that Tin Man had come to pick a fight. He was even mentally warming up, ready to ignite his weapon the moment things turned violent—until he noticed the stretcher Tin Man was pushing.
In an instant, his combat instinct vanished.
Felix hurried over in three quick strides. Under Tin Man's calm, steel-gray gaze, he looked down at the small figure lying motionless on the stretcher—a frail Feline girl, her breathing shallow and irregular, her heartbeat faint and unstable.
"Who is she?" Felix asked.
"Do you remember Williams's Research Institute I told you about?" Tin Man's voice was cold and clipped. "There was an incident at the Loken Watertank Laboratory. The Maylander Foundation and the academic council discovered that Loken had been conducting live experiments—on children. The oldest was twelve."
Felix's expression darkened. "…And this child?"
"The only survivor of the Loken Watertank experiment," Tin Man said grimly. "Narcissa. Eight years old. Orphaned at birth. Taken from the Trimount orphanage and selected by Loken as a test subject."
Felix's lips curled—not with anger, but with bitter irony. Loken's fate was easy enough to imagine, but the people behind him were surely still untouched. Terran experimentation wasn't a new phrase to Felix. The military had hinted at such projects years ago. It was only through his negotiations that they'd redirected those ambitions elsewhere.
But someone else was bound to take it up. Loken Williams was likely just one of the many scientists they had found.
"She needs immediate treatment," Tin Man said.
"I understand. I have medical clearance here," Felix replied quickly. "But her condition looks critical… she might need surgery."
The two rushed the stretcher down the hall toward the medical wing. Felix frowned as they ran. "Why bring her to me? Shouldn't she be in a hospital?"
Tin Man shook his head. "She's been modified. A hospital can't handle that."
"Then why me?"
"The Revenants gave me an answer," Tin Man said calmly. "You trained under Kal'tsit, graduated in just a few months... and Muelsyse can help during the operation, ensuring no pain or infection."
When Muelsyse received Felix's call, she rushed to the infirmary. The moment she arrived, she saw her partner already dressed in surgical scrubs, eyes sharp with focus. Around him stood several of Rhine Lab's emergency surgeons—veterans accustomed to patching up researchers after disastrous experiments.
She also spotted Tin Man, sitting outside the room with a cigar between his teeth, exhaling slow clouds of smoke.
"Relax," he said without looking up. "It's just a surgery. You should trust your man."
Muelsyse nodded softly. Through the window, she raised her thumb in silent encouragement—even though she knew Felix wouldn't look her way.
'You really do worry about me too much,' he thought faintly when he noticed her reflection.
Felix had learned under Kal'tsit herself—everything from theory to practical surgery. He wasn't a licensed doctor, but he'd assisted in enough real operations to hold his own. This, however, was different. Narcissa was by far the youngest patient he had ever treated.
'Damn it,' he thought. 'I was never even a med student. Real med students cry through this kind of workload. How could someone like me pull this off?'
But the system's guidance, and Kal'tsit's training, made all the difference.
Anesthetizing someone this young could have lifelong effects. Felix frowned but didn't hesitate. "Let's begin."
He wasn't the lead surgeon, but he was steady—methodical, efficient, keeping up flawlessly as the operation began. The lead surgeon, however, could barely contain his anger.
"This patient's barely a child," he growled, gripping a cup of water between breaks. "They stuffed Originium crystals inside her! What kind of sick, gutter-born experiment is this!?"
He cursed again before forcing himself to continue.
Narcissa's body was a map of suffering—scars, incision marks, modifications. Every inch of her had been used for experimentation. And through it all, she never woke up, even when the pain should have been unbearable.
The surgery lasted an entire day and night. Tin Man kept his silent vigil outside. Muelsyse, after handling her lab duties, left a water-spirit clone to stand guard. Even Kristen and Saria stopped by once; when they learned the truth—that the girl inside was a living product of Terran experimentation—they could only fall silent, faces heavy with grief.
When the operation finally ended, the lead surgeon collapsed from exhaustion.
Felix wasn't much better off. He remembered Kal'tsit's longest operation—three full days without rest. When she had finished, she'd simply taken a few minutes to massage her shoulders… and then walked straight into the next surgery.
Narcissa was finally out of immediate danger, though she remained in a deep coma. The doctors who had participated in the operation were left with only anger and sorrow once it ended. What kind of monster could carry out such cruel experiments on a girl barely eight years old? The damage was irreversible—her body would require constant care and maintenance for the rest of her life just to keep functioning properly.
Afterward, Felix showered and fell into an exhausted sleep. When he woke, he realized he had slept from morning until late afternoon—and that he'd been resting in Muelsyse's room.
Leaving the room, he grabbed a quick meal before heading to the reception hall, where he once again found Tin Man waiting, his ever-present top hat perched neatly on his head.
"Loken Williams has been sentenced to one hundred years in prison," Tin Man said calmly. "It's the most reasonable punishment the scientific community could agree upon."
He continued, "The Loken Watertank Laboratory has been permanently shut down. At the same time, the scientific community has voiced strong opposition to the military's interference in research and plans to appeal and formally protest their actions."
"As for Narcissa… I'll be entrusting her to your care. She must leave Columbia as soon as possible. What do you think, Felix?"
Tin Man adjusted his hat slightly as he spoke, his voice low and deliberate.
Felix shrugged. "At this point, is there really anyone else who can take her in? Fine. I'll look after her. I just don't know if the future I can offer her is the kind of future she wants."
"I only know that you are Her Highness's chosen successor—the one meant to fulfill her dream."
Tin Man's tone remained steady. "Since Her Highness's passing, Kazdel, which should have descended into chaos, stabilized in a remarkably short time. The Revenants told me the reason. They may call you a rebellious 'Sarkaz' and curse you every day, but deep down, those stubborn old ghosts are grateful."
"Revenants… you mean your kind?"
"Something like that," Tin Man replied with a faint metallic rasp. "They're all just a bunch of talkative old fools."
He added, "Did you know? The Furnace in central Kazdel—it was the Revenants who lit it."
"I always thought it ran on some kind of geothermal energy or sci-fi nonsense. You're saying I could actually communicate with them?"
"It's simple," Tin Man said evenly. "As long as you can tolerate their endless rambling—their insults toward the Sankta and Sarkaz, their constant scolding about how useless the younger generation has become—then yes, you can talk to the Revenants."
He looked straight at Felix. Those steel-gray, mechanical eyes reflected no emotion.
"Narcissa's future is in your hands now, King of Kazdel."
"I'm already being called a king?" Felix raised an eyebrow. "I haven't even finished liberating Kazdel yet."
"That's only a matter of time."
Tin Man waved dismissively and stood to leave. Before closing the door behind him, he paused and turned slightly.
"…That's not just my opinion," he said quietly. "It's theirs as well."
With that, Tin Man patted his coat lightly and left, his steps light and unhurried. Felix remained seated, mulling over his words. So even those so-called Revenants—though they saw the Sankta as traitors—still thought he was doing a decent job?
Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to try communicating with them. Having such a unique race's support could be a valuable advantage in his efforts to liberate Kazdel.
Felix rose from his chair and returned home, where he found Lappland, her bandages mostly removed. She had been wandering around outside, though without her weapon—currently under Felix's supervision—she hadn't caused any trouble. After reapplying her medicine, he went back to the infirmary.
There, the small Feline girl named Narcissa still lay asleep.
Felix had little experience with children. To him, they were something he only interacted with during Christmas—when he stopped being the one receiving gifts and became the one giving them. In his mind, children were always cute and obedient—filtered through an idealized, almost "anime-like" lens. The reality, of course, was far messier.
The only time he'd felt something close to this was when he cared for Rafaela. Now, looking at this tiny eight-year-old girl, he leaned back silently in his chair.
Terran experimentation was cruel. But the military had already turned a blind eye. The scientists' outrage would accomplish nothing. Tin Man's involvement was still hidden, but once it was exposed, the situation would explode—and Felix knew he'd have to flee Columbia with Narcissa immediately.
If Rhine Lab fell out with the military now, it would mean total ruin.
Suppressing the anger in his heart, Felix suddenly sensed someone watching him. His eyes shifted—and met the gaze of the small cat-girl on the bed. Narcissa had opened her eyes.
They were clear and translucent, yet within them lingered a deep sorrow and exhaustion far beyond her years—a faint trace of cold detachment and numbness.
Felix smiled gently. It had to be said—his charisma had grown remarkably. He could quietly disarm a person's walls without even trying, breaking down the barriers of fear and distrust.
Just like now.
"Hello, Narcissa. My name is Felix."
Felix sat gently beside the little kitten's bed. "The bad guys have been caught now, so there's no need to be afraid anymore."
"Bad… guys…"
Her voice was faint and fragile, as if it could vanish with the next breath. Her dull eyes blinked slowly. "Good… guy…"
"I'm a good guy," Felix replied softly, his tone calm and reassuring. "And one day, we'll be friends, you and I."
"Friends…"
Murmuring the word, Narcissa's eyes fluttered shut again, and she sank back into sleep.
Just then, the on-duty doctor entered the room. Seeing Director Felix, he began his report. "We've completed a full-body scan. There are traces of artificial implants in her brain. Her internal organs are still functioning well for now, but the concentration of Originium in her body will gradually increase over time."
"I understand."
Felix nodded coolly. Loken had clearly lost his mind. After his downfall, reports said that the Loken Watertank Laboratory had been completely dismantled, its remains quietly devoured by other research institutes eager to profit from the wreckage. But Narcissa's survival was proof—the Loken Watertank experiments had succeeded. And that meant she would now become the target of every major organization, including the military.
Realizing this, Felix began packing immediately. After calling Muelsyse, he returned home to pick up a very confused Lappland. As for Narcissa, he carefully placed the small Feline girl into a portable incubation chamber. Together, they made straight for the airport.
It wasn't until after takeoff that Felix finally wiped the sweat from his forehead. Somehow, they'd managed to slip away without alerting the military. 'Damn that Tin Man,' he thought bitterly. 'Always leaving me with a mess to clean up. If the military had caught wind of this, it would've turned into a full-blown "Rhine Lab Defense War."'
Muelsyse emerged from the cockpit. "Narcissa's body temperature is stable. But the aftereffects of her surgery are severe. I can't say when she'll wake up."
"We'll take her to see a specialist soon," Felix reassured her. "Don't worry, Mumu."
Beside him, Lappland tilted her head. "You're really that scared of the military?"
"If it were just me, I wouldn't care," Felix replied with a shrug. "But if I make a move against them, Rhine Lab will be dragged down with me. I can't afford that."
He leaned back slightly, his gaze firm. "Give me a few years. I'll silence every voice that dares to resist us. That's my promise, Lappland."
"I didn't mean to push you that far," she said, her Lupo tail swaying lazily. "I just can't stand looking at Columbia anymore."
"Have you ever seen a country that is pleasant to look at?"
Lappland thought for a moment, then grinned. "Guess not! Hahahahaha!"
Her laughter filled the cabin. Meanwhile, Muelsyse was busy piloting while also using her water clone to calm down her furious mother, Yara, who was convinced she and Felix had eloped.
And just like that, their trip to Columbia came to an abrupt end. Felix felt a twinge of regret—it had ended far too quickly. He'd wanted to tell Saria about Jesselton's challenge to settle their match with "three punches," but there simply hadn't been time.
He'd just have to ask Mumu to deliver the message for him.
When their plane landed in the Kawalerielki, Felix transported the incubation chamber straight to a hotel. Inside one of the rooms, he found Kal'tsit—half-dressed, mid-change—but she didn't seem to mind his entrance.
In Felix's mind, Kal'tsit was like Nobita from some two-dimensional world—her wardrobe apparently full of identical outfits. How else could anyone explain why she wore that same damn moss-green doctor's coat all year round? If she really did that, she'd have pickled herself by now.
And yet, the outfit she'd just changed into… was still the same green doctor's uniform.
Felix sighed internally. Kal'tsit… just admit it already. You only own one set of clothes, don't you?