— The Big Boss Makes an Entrance —
The sight before Eren stole the breath from his lungs.
It wasn't at all the tense, dramatic confrontation he had imagined.
No—this was absurd. So absurd it was almost disarming.
Field Commander Nadia, her face as impassive as carved jade;
Cael, still sweating and heaving from his five thousand one-armed push-ups, his massive frame trembling with exertion;
and the perpetually grinning Rowan—whose usual smirk had vanished, replaced by a look of genuine deference—
all stood in perfect unison, bowing deeply toward the figure emerging from the shadows.
"Greetings, Black Boss!"
Eren's brain froze, his mental gears grinding to a halt.
Black Boss? Who the hell...?
The dark figure stepped forward slowly, deliberately, each movement measured and filled with an unnatural grace.
"...Holy shit." Eren nearly bit his tongue.
It was a cat.
A black cat—walking upright, confidently, on two legs.
Its round belly swayed with every step, almost pompously.
A thick gold chain hung around its neck, gleaming faintly.
A fat, unlit cigar rested between its claws, and a tiny pair of mirrored sunglasses perched precariously over its eyes.
It was the perfect, ludicrous embodiment of a mafia boss making his grand entrance.
Eren blinked rapidly, wondering if the residual shadow energy had finally fried his synapses.
Did this cat... really exist?
Or had he finally lost his mind?
His imagination conjured the feline lounging in a velvet booth, snapping its claws for a refill of whiskey.
Then its golden eyes—sharp enough to cut glass—snapped toward him.
Layers of disdain, simmering impatience, and a silent warning flickered within that gaze:
You'd better show some respect, kid.
Aveline tugged urgently at his sleeve, whispering, "Bow—quick! Black Boss hates impoliteness. Don't stare!"
"Ah—right!" Eren hastily dipped into a bow, struggling to keep his face straight.
"Greetings, Black Boss."
"Meow—" The cat's long, drawn-out meow was lazy, dripping with casual authority.
It began to circle him three slow, deliberate times—its soft paws making no sound, yet every step felt like a judgment.
Ethan stepped forward cautiously, as if addressing royalty.
"Black Boss, this is Eren Kai—the external operative I mentioned. His unique constitution allows him to resist and even absorb shadow energy—"
"Meow." A single, curt sound. The cat's eyes narrowed behind its tiny shades.
The meaning was clear: Do you think I can't tell?
Eren's heart hammered. This cat's authority... was absolute.
Then—
"Whoosh!"
In a blur of motion too fast to follow, the black cat launched itself into the air like a streak of lightning, claws glinting wickedly as they aimed straight for Eren.
"Shit—!"
Eren froze. An invisible pressure locked his body in place, making evasion impossible.
"Boom—!"
A deafening thunderclap exploded inside his skull. His vision went white.
But the impact never came.
The cat's paw landed—gently—on his shoulder. A mere symbolic tap.
In one gravity-defying motion, it used his shoulder as a springboard, flipped backward, and landed perfectly atop Cael's furry head—its personal throne.
Everyone turned to stare at Eren with open envy.
Even Nadia's usually stoic lips twitched in what might have been a smile.
Cael let out a low whistle. "Kid! A shoulder pat from Black Boss? That's a divine blessing! You hit the jackpot on your first day!"
Eren looked down, dazed. "Blessing? It tore my shirt."
Sure enough, three neat slashes marked his shoulder. But beneath them, etched faintly into his skin, a black paw print glowed with inner light.
"Cael, isn't that just... a tattoo?"
"Meow!" The cat perched on Cael's head yowled indignantly, tail lashing.
Cael stiffened instantly. "N-no! You idiot! That's a divine mark—a protection sigil! It can save your life at a critical moment! People would kill for one!"
Black Boss, now comfortably seated, crossed its hind legs, blew an imaginary smoke ring toward the ceiling, and gave Eren a look that clearly said:
Don't waste my gift.
A slow chuckle escaped Eren's lips. He cupped his hands respectfully and bowed again.
"Thank you for your blessing, Black Boss."
The cat twitched its whiskers and let out two soft, approving meows.
"Meow~ Meow~"
The meaning was unmistakable:
Now that's more like it... but you'd better prove yourself worthy.
---
— Shadow Closing In —
"Shh."
Eren froze mid-step.
The motion cut off cleanly, as if his body had obeyed before conscious thought could catch up. His raised hand hovered in the air, fingers slightly spread, palm angled forward—not a gesture of caution, but a warning.
"There's something out there."
His voice dropped to a low whisper, controlled and steady. Not hurried. Not speculative. It carried the quiet certainty of someone stating a confirmed fact.
Within the reach of his psionic awareness—roughly two hundred meters ahead, slightly off the right flank—the fog had shifted.
Not dispersed. Not parted.
It compressed.
A blurred silhouette drifted within it. The movement was slow, almost languid, but each increment forward carried an oppressive weight, like pressure building deep underwater.
Rowan frowned, craning his neck instinctively, though visibility was nearly zero. "What something?" he muttered. "None of us sensed a damn—"
"Slim Fox."
Cael cut in sharply, his tone snapping taut like a drawn wire. "Eren was invited here for a reason. Watch yourself."
"I'm just saying—"
"Whack!"
Rowan's protest cut off mid-syllable as a sharp blow landed squarely on his forehead.
"Ow—ow—OW! Black Boss! Why do you always hit me?!"
"Meow."
—Why not?
Cat Boss flicked a claw with lazy precision, cigar clenched at the corner of its mouth.
"Fwoop—"
The burning tip traced a perfect arc through the air and dropped neatly into Rowan's open mouth.
Only then did Black Boss turn its gaze toward Eren.
For the briefest instant, something unreadable glimmered in those abyssal eyes—not concern, not humor, but approval. Silent. Absolute.
The distant noises sharpened.
Footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate.
Each one landed with uncanny timing, slipping neatly into the space between heartbeats, as if the thing approaching had learned the rhythm of fear and chosen to walk within it.
The black fog churned violently now, stirred from within. Its surface rippled like a disturbed sea, folds tightening and releasing, drawing inward toward the unseen center.
The air thickened.
Not with cold alone—but with resistance.
Breathing felt heavier, as if each inhale had to push past something that didn't want to be displaced.
Nadia's fingers tightened around her weapon. She drew in a sharp breath, shoulders squaring as instinct took over.
"Everyone," she barked, voice cutting clean through the tension.
"Activate your protective auras. Formation holds. Prepare to engage."
No one questioned the order.
Because whatever was coming—
it was already close enough to be felt.