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After dinner, most of the off-duty maned wolves seized the brief and rare window of free time, splitting off into groups according to their differing needs and heading to various entertainment venues.

I intended to thank Juan before continuing my journey, so I wandered aimlessly across the vast open space behind the restaurant, which doubled as a parking lot, waiting for the colonel to finish his meeting.

Of course, another reason was to stay as far as possible from the plaza on the opposite end. Even though they had already taken down the fox's body that had been hanging there, I still had no desire to get anywhere near it.

I gently touched the brooch pinned to my freshly washed cloak, hoping the familiar pattern would offer some guidance—or at least serve as an anchor to keep me from losing my way.

I thought I spotted a maned wolf busy near the armored vehicle. Moving a little closer, I confirmed it was Santiago, cleaning the vehicle's foot mats.

“Uh… sorry,” I said, keeping my tone low, trying not to feel even more embarrassed as I noticed my own clearly defined shoeprints.

“It’s nothing. We caused you trouble first.” The maned wolf sprayed some kind of liquid onto the mats.

After a few moments, the grime started to dissolve with a faint sizzling sound. I took a step back, not wanting to inhale the suspicious white vapor.

“Waiting for the colonel? The meeting should be just about—” His sentence was cut off by a sharp beep from the terminal strapped to his forearm. Santiago’s brow furrowed deeper as he read, and a bad feeling began to churn in my gut. “You might want to move your schedule up—or at least get out of here quickly…” he said, glancing at me before tucking the terminal back under his arm strap. “It’s urgent. Excuse me.” Without waiting for a response, Santiago turned and climbed into a much larger armored vehicle.

A flurry of maned wolves and golden retrievers rushed past, recalled to duty. They moved briskly, even roughly, clearly on missions known only to themselves. The air was thick with tension, so saturated with frustration that even the smallest spark could ignite it all.

“Ah, little fox, glad you’re still here!” Amid the increasingly chaotic background noise, Smith’s voice cut through like a sharp scratch across white noise. “The airport’s been attacked by terrorists. All flights are grounded.”

“What!” I couldn’t help but shout, though thankfully, things were too chaotic for anyone to care.

“Hope you bought travel insurance,” Smith said with a shrug. I was too stunned to register the joke. It took me even longer to notice Michael standing behind him—now wearing a collar again. “But I might be able to help you out, keep your trip from getting too delayed.” The golden retriever tapped his chin thoughtfully, clearly savoring the performance. “Just wait here till I’m done. It won’t take long.”

With no better option in mind, I nodded. Smith gave a satisfied hum and strode off, Michael silently trailing behind him.

“Zorro!” I turned toward the voice and saw Juan approaching with several maned wolves. “I suppose you’ve already heard about the attack. Do you have a backup plan for your travel?”

“No.” I shook my head, gripping the brooch. “But Smith said he might have a way to help. I figure I’ll wait and hear what he has to say.”

“That’s a relief.” A flicker of hesitation flashed in the colonel’s eyes, though I wasn’t in the state to ponder it deeply. “It’s unfortunate that these constant emergencies have made our parting so abrupt. I’m sure you still have many stories to share with us. But for now, it will have to wait until we meet again.” With that, Juan extended his right paw.

“The honor’s mine, Colonel.” He seemed in a hurry, so I skipped the formalities, quickly grasping his paw to return the gesture.

Juan gave a firm shake and a nod before signaling the other maned wolves to follow him.

Once the armored vehicles had rumbled off and the dust settled, boredom began to creep in, followed by a mounting sense of unease now that the initial chaos had begun to subside. Uncertainty about my disrupted plans pressed down on my shoulders like invisible weight.

It was then that the noise from the plaza finally got better of my curiosity, and I made my way toward the growing crowd, eager to see what was going on.

The moment I saw the upright wooden stakes, I knew I’d regret this decision—but the sight before me was so viscerally shocking that I couldn’t move a muscle, as if my feet had taken root.

“…Charged with genocide, violations of peace, crimes against humanity, and war crimes.” Smith paced back and forth in front of the stakes with his hands clasped behind his back. Strangely, despite the commotion all around, his voice came through to me crystal clear. “Under the Court resolutions, sentenced to death.”

He nodded to the waiting soldiers, who then dragged out a number of foxes and lined them up at the stakes. Most of them looked half-dead already, barely responsive. But a few, still conscious, screamed and struggled as they were bound—probably because they’d come to the same conclusion I had about their impending fate.

“No! What are you doing?” one of the foxes shouted, pulling desperately at the chains binding his wrists. “This is wrong!”

“Oh shut up,” Smith said with a huge roll of his eyes. He stepped forward and grabbed the fox with the snout. “When pups were being tortured, beaten, starved, and used as lab specimens in your facilities, is that what you said?”

“I was just following orders…” the fox sobbed after Smith let go, his body collapsing. “I just wanted to survive…”

“The bones buried in those camps probably thought the same thing. Now you’re getting what you deserve—sounds fair, doesn’t it?” Smith shrugged. The fox didn’t answer, only wept. “Ah, that reminds me.”

Smith issued another command to the soldiers, then walked over to Michael—who stood out by height—removed his collar, and returned to the fox he’d just spoken to.

At that moment, a young fox was shoved forward by a soldier, stumbling nearly to the ground. He looked around, eyes wide in panic—clearly terrified.

“According to the principles of reparative justice,” Smith announced, “all beneficiaries of these blood-stained murderers shall have their property confiscated and be forced into labor until full restitution is made to the victims.” He fastened the collar around the young fox’s neck with an audible click. “For humanitarian reasons, those too young to pay their debt must be cared for by their assigned handlers—of course, not for free.”

The fox from earlier began screaming again, though I couldn’t make out his words—too many voices were shouting around me.

Then Smith waved his paw, and I saw Michael step forward, stopping briefly at each stake. At first, I couldn’t tell what he was doing… then I saw it.

The stakes must have been soaked in fuel or something. Flames erupted quickly, and the bound foxes thrashed in agony. I couldn’t hear their screams—probably drowned out by the crowd’s cheering—but watching their contorted, wide-mouthed faces was more than disturbing.

I couldn’t even process what I felt. My mind went blank, swallowed by the sound of cracking wood and roaring fire.

I was starting to believe the golden retrievers were truly insane. And if this was only around average version of their behavior… how terrifying could the extreme be?

But what truly chilled me to the bone wasn’t the fire. It was the crowd—the onlookers. If the concept of the banality of evil had taught me anything, it was that everyone is responsible…

“Hey! What the hell!” A sudden jolt snapped me out of my thoughts. I shouted, swatting away the paw that had clearly tried to pickpocket me. “Thief!”

The chaos and noise around us were still overwhelming. No one paid attention. So I stepped forward and grabbed the culprit.

“What?” He turned around, his hood falling back—revealing a spotted dog with black spots on his face. “What kind of bullshit are you spewing now?”

“You tried to steal from me—don’t think I didn’t notice,” I snapped, adjusting my now-disheveled cloak.

“You serious?” The spotted dog yanked his arm free and brushed himself off like I was some kind of dirt. “You calling me a thief just because I bumped into you?”

He folded his arms and took a deep breath, puffing out his chest to look bigger. “What, you wanna settle this with a duel?”

“Uh… what?” Now I was the one confused—had I really misunderstood him? I was almost certain his paw had reached for my pocket… though to be fair, I hadn’t actually put anything in that pocket.

“A duel. Let the victor of justice prove their innocence!” he declared loudly, then glanced downward. “Or is that sword just for show?”

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” I snapped, placing a paw on my hilt. I noticed now that this strange mutt also had a sword at his waist.

“Then step aside, coward!” He spat at my feet, the insult cutting deeper than I expected.

Fine. Bring it on. Let’s see who the real coward is…

A shrill scream suddenly made me snap my head toward the source.

Through the blaze and thick smoke, I couldn’t see much—but something dark seemed to move in the firelight.

“So?” the strange dog said in a shrill, taunting tone, pulling me back to the moment. “Don’t waste my time.”

Meeting his brown eyes, I could still see the flickering flames in the plaza out of the corner of mine.

I forced myself to breathe deeply, reached up to touch the brooch on my cloak, and reminded myself why I was here—there was no point in tangling with this strange mutt. This wasn’t a reason to draw my sword.

“Sorry, I overreacted.” I let go of the hilt, lowered my gaze, and apologized.

The spotted dog huffed and turned away, pulling his hood back over his head.

What kind of awful luck am I having lately? Why do I keep running into weirdos?

With a heavy sigh for this whole twisted mess, I pushed my way through the increasingly frenzied crowd, silently praying I still had a chance to get far, far away from this madness.

I balanced myself on the raised tire marks pressed into the ground by the armored vehicle as I retracted my terminal back onto my arm, not in the mood to respond to the sternly worded messages flooding in from the family group chat.

I pressed my lips together, feeling like something had stuck to them, so I wiped with the back of my paw—it was greasy.

“Work always seems to chase people down, huh? Keep this up and I might start going gray.”

I never thought I’d actually want to hear this golden retriever’s voice. Looking up, I saw Smith walking toward me, Michael trailing behind.

“We were supposed to leave immediately, but then I thought—‘Hey, why not do my civic duty and turn a little fox's terrible day into the luckiest day of his life?’”

Maybe this wasn’t the worst day of my life, but it was definitely top three—and the fact that I was relying on this bizarre guy for help said a lot.

“Sure, I’ll admit I’m partly trying to curry some favor with the gray wolves in the Senate, but let’s just call that a win-win bonus.” Smith went on talking to himself, full of theatrical gestures that only made me more exhausted.

I was starting to get what people meant by “drama queen”— Smith moved and spoke like he was reciting a scripted monologue, blocking it out onstage.

He handed me a silver card with a golden crest embossed on it, the same emblem as the signet ring on his index finger—a count’s seal. “This is a pass that’ll get you on a ship at Port Brownsville. You might miss the opening ceremony, but you’ll definitely make it to the competition.”

I didn’t know what to say. Turning this down would be stupid. I’d already risked getting disowned by my entire family just to get here, so even if this guy had just...

I shook my head hard, forcing myself to cut off that line of thought. Now wasn’t the time.

I reached out to take the ticket, but quickly realized the golden retriever wasn’t letting go just yet. I looked up into Smith’s brown eyes. He grinned wide, all teeth.

“Of course, if you’re feeling generous in return...” His gaze drifted toward my chest—specifically, the spot where my cloak was pinned. “I’m a fan of collecting mileage points.”

A shock hit me like being shoved off a cliff.

So this creep has been eyeing me up. Who knows how long he's been planning this?

But the airport was shut down, and according to what I just searched, all other intercontinental travel had been suspended pending an investigation. Which meant this pass he’d handed me had to be some kind of noble privilege.

I’d already given up so much—left everything behind to get here. Was there really anything left to hesitate over? It was just a piece of metal.

Wait. Was I seriously considering giving my family’s crest to this lunatic? The same lunatic who, just a short while ago, ordered a bunch of people to be burned alive?

If I accepted, I’d be the crazy one.

No—real madness would be crawling back home in disgrace with my tail between my legs...

For some reason, Michael’ words echoed in my head—the conversation we had about “how badly you want” and “a line you don’t cross.”

I suddenly had the urge to slap myself.

Ugh. Whatever. It’s not like I had a choice.

But just as I was about to unpin the brooch, Smith let go.

“Kidding, obviously. You think I’m that bad?” The golden retriever winked, stepping back with perfect poise.

“Oh, uh...” I refused to let this guy see me flustered, so I tucked the pass away and gave Smith a formal bow. “I’m deeply grateful, my lord, for offering your aid in my time of need.”

I kept my head bowing for a long moment, but Smith didn’t respond right away. Probably because I hadn’t added the customary “I will surely repay your kindness when I have the chance”—there was no way I was making any promises to this guy.

Just as my neck started to ache, I finally heard his reply.

“No worries, little fox.” He gave me permission to rise, and when I looked up, the golden retriever’s signature smile was still plastered on his face. If I didn’t know better, I might’ve been fooled by that friendly act into thinking he wasn’t annoyed. “We’re headed to Port Brownsville ourselves. Would I have the honor of giving you a ride?”

“I couldn’t possibly impose, my lord.” I suddenly realized this was the perfect time to pull out all those bizarre old phrases—and weirdly, they actually came in handy. I’d have to thank the family etiquette tutors when I got back. “I’ve already caused you too much trouble. I’ll take the subway to the port on my own.”

I bowed again, facing the golden retriever in that awkward posture, as if it were some kind of silent standoff.

“Well, if you insist, I can only wish the young Viera a smooth journey.” Smith’s patience must’ve finally run dry. He turned and left without another word. Not even a gesture.

Michael followed right after, not sparing me a glance.

Sure, I was the one at fault in all this—but did they really have to be that rude? Weren’t nobles supposed to have manners to spare?

To keep my mood from spiraling any further, I decided to take a page from the golden retriever’s playbook—just turn around and walk away.

And as I did, I silently prayed to any gods who might be listening that after leaving behind this whole absurd mess, I would never, ever cross paths with that guy again.