Chapter 1

Rain pierced the night sky, pattering into a large trash bin with a strange, metallic clatter.

Naru curled his fluffy tail around his body.

The relentless sound of rain, the unsettling noises inside the trash bin, and the silence of the residential area around him all blended into something terrifying.

His bare feet, unprotected by shoes, felt bitterly cold. Red welts ringed his ankles where shackles had recently been removed.

Each time raindrops struck his thin frame, his small back trembled.

Naru lived in a world that felt both endless and suffocating.

He was a disposable character in a bleak BL setting—tossed about, wounded, and abused.

Half his life had been spent in the basement of an obsessed “top.”

One flight of stairs above was a warm, normal room. But the man who owned him—Choi Beomhyeon—was obsessed. For him, warmth was something to be thrown away, something forbidden.

Naru didn’t even realize he was just a disposable role in a ruined world. He simply resigned himself to whatever Choi Beomhyeon decided to do with him, thinking it was his fate.

While others lived chasing bright tomorrows, Naru’s life grew only darker.

And one more thing: Naru was a beastkin.

Specifically, the weakest kind—a puppy-type beastkin.

In this world, beastkin were considered the lowest of the low, habitually ignored, their rights and needs dismissed.

For Naru, every moment was pain.

On nights when exhaustion knocked him out, he prayed desperately that morning would never come, trembling in fear of what awaited.

“Please don’t let me be found. Please don’t let me be found. Please don’t let me be found…”

The reason Naru was crouched and trembling in a narrow residential alley was, of course, Choi Beomhyeon.

Beomhyeon had sneered at him for not answering a message in time, warning him to “prepare to be punished.”

That smile, cold and amused, meant Naru would be beaten half to death that night.

He’d been raised under Beomhyeon’s hand since childhood. He could read his expression all too well.

So while Beomhyeon went to wash up, Naru had seized the chance. He loosened the shackles on his ankles with practiced ease and bolted out of the basement.

Years of living as a disposable character had taught him little tricks—like how to free himself from bindings.

But escaping… that was the real problem.

No matter how many times he ran, he always got caught and dragged back by Beomhyeon’s hired men.

Still, tonight he had managed to run farther than usual. He’d stumbled into a quiet alley and crammed himself into a large trash bin that hid his small frame.

Good. I can survive here.

Please save me. Please save me. Ah, I’m so hungry. Please save me…

He repeated the desperate prayer until his vision flickered.

It wasn’t from tears. It was as if the very air around him was rippling—like motion sickness.

‘Huh? What’s this…?’

‘His small, pure-white ears perked up.’

The tail wrapped around his body twitched.

Curiosity pricked at him despite his fear.

‘Should I touch it? No, not now. But… I want to touch it. Just a little.’

His hand trembled as he reached out cautiously. Raindrops plopped onto his tender skin, and he flinched with a sharp shiver.

‘Scared me!’

Shaking his hand, he refocused on the wavering air. His wide eyes, pressed lips, and perked ears showed his concentration.

And then—another scent drifted through the distortion.

A musty odor of people… and something else. Something warm.

Bread. Toasty bread.

Sniff, sniff—his nose twitched uncontrollably. The scent was too tempting.

He hadn’t eaten for days, locked in that basement. His stomach growled fiercely.

Without thinking, Naru reached toward the source.

And regretted it two seconds later.

His body lurched, as if it were being pulled into a void. His stomach churned. Dizzy, he curled into a ball and squeezed his eyes shut, begging for the horrible sensation to end.

“Haha, so yesterday I—”

“Yes, boss. Already sent it by email.”

“Oh honey, I’m right in front of the department store…”

What…?

Just moments ago the alley had been empty. Now voices echoed all around him.

Slowly, Naru lifted his head. His round eyes blinked in bewilderment.

Everything was unfamiliar.

The trash bin was gone.

The alley once lined with villas now towered with glittering high-rises and neon lights.

‘Huh…? Strange. I was hiding… I only closed my eyes tightly and opened them again!’

Pushing off the ground, he hugged the building wall and crept forward.

At the corner, he peeked around—

—and froze.

“Oh my god…!”

Buildings so tall they scraped the sky, a department store with a massive electronic billboard, and dazzling advertisements everywhere.

A world he’d never seen before unfolded before his eyes.

Shaken, overwhelmed, he stamped his feet nervously and retreated behind the corner.

Looking closer, he realized none of the people had tails or ears.

‘So… none of them are beastkin? I’d better hide mine.’

He tugged at his head, reached behind himself—only to freeze.

Gone.

His ears and tail were gone.

He touched again, more frantically this time. Nothing. Not even a trace.

‘No way…! Come out! Come back!’

But no matter how hard he focused, his tail and ears didn’t return.

Tears welled up.

‘I thought I’d always be a puppy. Always. But now—no tail, no ears…!’

Sniff, sniff…

A familiar smell cut through his panic—the same toasty bread scent.

Even without tail or ears, his nose was still sharp.

The scent was just beyond the corner.

But that meant walking through the busy street.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, steeling himself.

The hunger won out.

“What kind of bread is it…?”

The closer he got, the sweeter the smell became.

He stopped in front of a charming, old-fashioned building.

It looked like a jewelry shop, but it was actually a dessert café.

Golden cursive letters gleamed on a neat white signboard.

Naru stared at the letters for a long time, then lowered his head with a sigh.

“De…stin…ee…? I don’t know.”

Resentment swelled inside him.

If Beomhyeon had at least let him study, he wouldn’t be standing here, helpless in front of a sign he couldn’t read.

The name was destinée. A French word.

It meant fate.

The clear glass storefront revealed everything inside—shining chandeliers, polished displays, rows of beautiful desserts.

“Looks delicious… slurp…”

Pressing both hands to the glass, Naru’s cheek squished flat against it like a pancake.

His eyes sparkled at the sight of bread and cakes.

“That’s a baguette—I ate one once. And that one… don’t know... that one either… but it all looks so good…”

While he was busy gawking, an employee glanced up from packaging tarts and caught sight of him.

‘Oh—our eyes met.’

“S-sorry, I’m sorry!”

Bowing deeply in apology, Naru scurried away from the café window.

He wandered through the crowded street, eyes darting restlessly.

Loud music blasted, shop windows gleamed with fine clothes, and an electronics store displayed countless TVs, all tuned to the same channel.

A man in a suit clicked his tongue at the screen, but Naru edged closer, crouching low to watch.

The TV was playing a documentary. About puppies.

Naru squatted in front of the lowest screen, staring intently.

People stared at him, but he didn’t notice.

“Why abandon puppies…? They didn’t do anything wrong…”

On screen, an abandoned dog limped with an injured leg.

Naru’s throat tightened. His eyes brimmed.

‘Pitiful… so pitiful… Do all puppies live like this? I’m a puppy beastkin too, and I met the wrong master…’

He sniffled, dabbing at tears.

Tap, tap.

A hand touched his shoulder. Thinking it was rain, he looked up—only to freeze.

Two strangers loomed over him.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, looks like the description was right. Short, slim build. Cute face too.”

“C-cute…?”

“What’s your name?”

“Song… Naru…”

“Hm. Song-na… close enough. Come quietly.”

“W-wait!”

One man grabbed his arm roughly while another clamped a hand over his mouth.

They moved with practiced stealth, dragging him toward a parked car.

Naru didn’t resist. He was used to this.

He’d run away and been caught so many times.

It must be Beomhyeon’s men again.

Still… it really did feel like another world.

Had he imagined it all? Was he just too frantic to notice where he’d run?

Even so, just for a little while… he’d seen the world outside. He’d felt happiness.

‘I was really happy…’

But soon he’d wake up in the basement again, tied down, the whip biting into his skin before he was even fully awake.

‘I should’ve worn two pairs of underwear… at least the first five lashes would’ve hurt less.’

A sad, bitter thought.

“I… don’t want to be beaten…”

As soon as he was shoved into the car, a drugged cloth pressed to his nose and mouth.

His mind echoed that one last wish—I don’t want to be beaten—as he drifted into darkness.