The Price Of Touching His Little Sister

Under dim orange lighting, a girl lay fast asleep on a worn-out bed. And watching her with a crooked smile was a man wearing glasses. He stared at her outfit for a moment, then muttered to himself.

“Now, which noble house does this little lady belong to?”

The quality of her clothes clearly indicated she was from a prestigious family. But that only excited him more. He had already killed dozens of people. Cut open their stomachs, even peeled back the skin on their skulls.

People feared the one called the serial killer “Jack” because of the grotesque condition of the bodies he left behind. Head, chest, abdomen, legs—he had split open every part of the body and abandoned them in desolate places. It was no surprise the public was horrified.

“Alright, where should I start this time?”

He called it a procedure, even as she slept deeply. He didn’t consider it murder. He believed the lives he took were sacrifices for the sake of medical advancement. Naturally, he felt no guilt. To him, it was only logical.

“Now then, let’s see how soft and easy it is to cut a young girl’s skin.”

He was trembling with excitement. He had no concern for the aftermath. He was already imagining the pleasure he’d feel the moment his scalpel split her skin. Slowly, the blade reached out toward the girl’s pale, delicate arm.

Tap. Tap-tap!

At that sound, his hand paused, and he turned his head. Caught off guard, he grew cautious. But soon, he heard a meow and realized what the source of the noise was.

“Damn cats—always showing up where they’re not wanted.”

He believed such cats should be eradicated too. Though he had no interest in dissecting animals. He only desired human flesh. Fur-covered flesh was simply too annoying to cut through. As he thought this, he reached again for his scalpel.

Meow~ Meow, meow.

“Those damned things…”

As he tried to perform his sacred operation, the cats’ cries continued. Irritated, he turned and walked toward the window where the sound came from. He waved his hand at the cats staring up at him and shouted:

“Get lost! Shoo!”

He waved his arms and shouted, but the cats didn’t budge. They just clung to the window, silently watching him. Their strange behavior unsettled him. This wasn’t how cats normally acted.

“What the… what are they?”

He paused, unnerved by how unnatural this all felt. But thinking they were just cats, he moved to the window again and waved his hand. When they still wouldn’t leave, he got angry, flung the window open, and stabbed at them with his scalpel.

Thunk. The tip of the scalpel pierced a cat’s face.

The man sneered. Surely now they would run. But why weren’t they fleeing? A cold shiver ran down his spine. The cat he had stabbed was still staring at him.

Was that even possible? A normal cat would have shrieked and run. But this one, bleeding, just stared at him silently. The blood dripped, but it made no move to retreat. The unnatural stillness was deeply disturbing.

Meow~ Meow~ Meow… More cries rang out from different directions.

‘W-What the hell is going on…?’

The sounds were coming from all sides. There weren’t just one or two cats—dozens had gathered. He backed away in alarm, then quickly turned and ran to where he had prepared his surgical tools. Dropping the scalpel, he grabbed a saw-toothed blade.

“You damned cats! What the hell are you!?”

His shout was met with nothing but relentless meowing. Meanwhile, the girl on the bed remained in a deep sleep. At that moment, he heard scratching at the door. Clearly the sound of a cat’s claws.

At first it sounded like just one, but soon more joined in until the entire door was being scratched. Scritch. Scratch. The noise was overwhelming, and he couldn’t help but wonder what was happening.

“Am I… dreaming right now?”

He muttered aloud. Then the scratching stopped. Holding his breath, he stared at the door—just in time to hear a meow. He quickly turned his head and saw several cats had entered the room. Including the one he had stabbed earlier.

“Y-You damn things…”

None of them posed any physical threat. They were just meowing and scratching the door. But their unnatural behavior was terrifying. He couldn’t stop himself from backing away—until he reached the bed where the girl lay.

Glancing at her, anger flared. These cats had interrupted his operation. By now he should have been feeling that pleasure again—but instead, he was gripped by fear. Frustration twisted into rage, and gripping his saw tightly, he charged at the cats.

“Die!”

With a swing, he slashed one of the cats aside. It fell, wounded. Grinning, he kicked another as hard as he could. Thud! The cat flew across the room. Fueled by his superior strength, he kicked at more cats.

Thud! Thud-thud!

With each kick, more cats went down. Gasping, he stood victorious, breathing hard. His face twisted in triumphant rage. This was how it should’ve been from the start. But then… the fallen cats began to rise.

Even the one with deep saw wounds stood up. Bleeding, yet eerily unfazed. The man was horrified. He had never been pushed to the edge like this before.

With a crazed cry, he swung the saw at the cats again. Blood splattered everywhere. Eventually, the cats collapsed into motionless corpses. Grinning at the carnage, he laughed.

“Hahaha! I killed them all!”

He even thought there was a thrill in it. His usual surgical killings were elegant—but this kind of slaughter had its own appeal. But then—meow~—another cat’s cry. More cats appeared through the open window.

Grinding his teeth, he muttered:

‘Fine then. Let’s do this right!’

With a roar in his heart, he charged at the cats again.

15 minutes later.

“Huff… Huff… Huff… Huff…”

Killing living things turned out to be exhausting. Unlike pulling a trigger, physically butchering creatures required stamina. Panting, he looked around the room full of feline corpses, and the still-sleeping girl on the bed, and muttered:

“Maybe… I’ll take a break?”

His hands trembled too much to go on immediately. He slumped into a nearby chair, arms hanging limp. His whole body ached. He didn’t even want to think about the strange behavior of the cats anymore.

‘Maybe I should just move her somewhere else.’

Sure, the place was remote—but someone might’ve heard the earlier commotion. He decided he couldn’t stay. He rose shakily, cradled the sleeping girl in his arms, and moved toward the door.

Even with trembling arms, he didn’t let go. Then—

Meow~ Meow~

Dozens of cats sat crying in place. The man scowled at the sight but didn’t bother to kick or strike them. He knew they weren’t doing anything to him. He walked down the creaky, rusted staircase, not even looking back.

The cats watched silently and began following. In a wave, their glowing eyes fixated on the man’s back—and the girl in his arms. Once outside, he opened the rear door of his parked car and gently laid the girl down inside.

‘Tch, let’s get out of here.’

He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, pulling away from the curb. Yet the cats nearby began to follow. Even those scattered around the area stared intently at the departing vehicle. There were cats everywhere in the city.

Once, the nation had made efforts to exterminate them, launching a campaign to reduce their numbers. But the cats had adapted, surviving by hiding well and continuing to multiply in the shadows of the city.

As the man drove, he caught sight of an approaching car. His eyes widened—it was clearly a police cruiser. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of what to do. But then the cruiser passed by without stopping.

‘There are cops patrolling already? This isn’t good.’

He immediately pulled over and reconsidered. Then he turned the car around and returned to where he came from. Once there, he opened the back door, lifted the girl in his arms, and climbed the stairs again.

Even as the cats meowed endlessly, the man ignored them. He walked straight into the room, kicked the door shut behind him, and laid the girl back on the bed. Then he stomped over to the window and shoved away a cat trying to climb in—then slammed the window shut.

‘Should’ve just stayed inside.’

He regretted ever going out. The fact that patrol cars were already nearby meant something. The police were clearly searching for this girl. Who was she that they would mobilize this fast?

‘To act this quickly… Just who is she?’

Today felt different in many ways. With that in mind, he decided to end things quickly and get out. He approached the tools he had prepared earlier and picked up the scalpel still stained with cat blood.

‘Let’s just get this over with.’

Without hesitation, he brought the blade toward the girl’s pale arm. Just as the tip was about to touch her—

CRASH!

The door exploded off its hinges. He turned his head in shock, just in time to see the shattered door floating in the air.

Step. Step.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway.

And then—he appeared. A red-haired young man stepped through the hallway. Strikingly handsome. For a moment, the killer thought he looked familiar. Where had he seen him before?

‘Wait… is he someone I know?’

But more pressing was the door still floating in midair.

‘What the hell is this?’

He decided to speak up.

“Who are you to—”

“Shut that mouth.”

“……”

And it shut.

Literally. No sound came out no matter how he tried. He quickly realized—the floating door, the sealed mouth—it had to be that man’s doing.

Magic?

One of the world’s few remaining mages? Just his luck. The young man entered the room, eyes narrowing as he looked down at the filthy bed.

Grinding his teeth, he muttered,

“This is disgusting.”

The girl’s body began to float gently off the bed, rising into the air. Gracefully, she hovered toward the red-haired man’s arms, softly settling there. His crimson eyes then locked on the killer, who still couldn’t speak.

“I won’t kill you quickly. You’ll pay for kidnapping my sister.”

‘Sister…?’

Realization hit like a thunderclap. A mage—and now this?

What rotten luck.

Still, he couldn’t go down without a fight. He bolted toward the saw he had dropped earlier. But before he could even get close, his body froze in place.

“You were planning to use those tools on my sister, weren’t you?”

He couldn’t even say what he wanted to—what he had almost done. And that made the fury that much worse.

He had tried to harm his sister. For that, there could be no forgiveness.

“I’ll make sure you can’t run.”

CRACK!!

“….!?”

The man’s eyes bulged.

A wave of pain swallowed his brain. Both his arms and legs had been twisted and shattered—bones and muscles crushed and contorted beyond recognition. The red-haired youth—Ian—looked down at him with pure rage.

“Regret it. Regret it over and over. You dared to touch my sister.”

Ian turned his gaze toward the cats—over fifty of them had entered the room through the open door, silently taking positions. And surely more were still outside.

Ian looked at them warmly and sighed in relief.

‘Thank goodness. If it weren’t for the cats, I wouldn’t have found her.’

He had driven around aimlessly after leaving police headquarters, nearly in despair—until a cat darted across the road ahead of his car.

In that instant, an idea struck. He found nearby cats, used Mental Manipulation, and ordered them to find his sister.

Thanks to them, he had made it in time. Barely.

‘That’s why… I can’t forgive him. Not for a single second. Die in agony.’

“Eat him. Bite by bite. Don’t let him die quickly.”

At Ian’s command, the cats began to move. They advanced on the man, still unable to scream. Only now did he realize—the cats were under his control.

His ruined arms and legs were surrounded. Dozens of sharp feline teeth bit down. The pain, the terror—it was enough to drive anyone insane.

And in that moment, he finally recognized Ian.

Red hair… a prince?

‘Prince Ian… then… his sister is… a princess…?’

Only now did he grasp the gravity of what he had done.

But it was too late. He could neither speak nor move as the cats began to eat him alive.

Meanwhile, Ian stepped out of the filthy, foul-smelling room—his sister Charlotte safe in his arms.

THUD! The broken door crashed to the ground behind him, and the cats continued to feast.

Just as ordered—bit by bit, slowly.