— — — — — —
Smack!!!
A shirtless beastman with a leopard's head slammed his clawed hand across Ryo's face.
Ryo's cheek immediately swelled, turning red. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He looked like he'd been beaten senseless for quite a while now.
"Talk! What else do you know!?"
The Leopard-head thug barked in his face, saliva flying with every word.
Just as he raised his leg to kick Ryo—
"That's enough, Ag."
The voice came from their leader: a burly Lion-head beastman who'd been chilling nearby. He rose slowly, a nasty grin on his face.
"If you beat him to death, we're screwed."
"Ugh, fine." Ag spat on the ground and shot Ryo a cold glare before backing off.
Ryo, chained tightly with iron restraints, said nothing through all of this. He looked dazed—like the beatings had left him too broken to even speak.
The other beastmen didn't seem concerned. They just gathered around their boss and started chatting.
"Boss, I broke four of his fingers already. Pretty sure the brat's telling the truth."
"So the Moon Rabbit from [No-Name] actually got wrecked, huh... Even after she fled from the upper levels, the Demon Lords are still after her."
"Yeah, but if the rabbit dies, she's worthless. Nobody's gonna pay for a corpse."
"As if you could catch her alive. That Moon Rabbit's gotta be at least five digits on the strength scale."
"Well, she's half-dead now, right? A half-dead rabbit shouldn't be too hard for us to handle."
"And as far as I know, the only one in that community who can fight is some guy named Ryo. The rest are just kids—can't even participate in Gift Games. Seems like easy prey to me."
"Oh, right! I heard Ryo's pretty much a chronic patient or something. The pharmacy guys say the rabbit's always buying medicine for him. No Gift, no nothing—just a trash guy."
The two underlings glanced at their boss with anticipation.
"So, Boss, what do you say? We've been watching [No-Name] for a while now..."
The lion-head boss spat and narrowed his eyes. "Screw it, let's do it!"
"I'll go talk to Boss Taigo. Moon Rabbits are nearly extinct—if we catch one, we could sell her for enough to buy a goddamn Divinity."
"You all know how Taigo operates."
"If he gets a Divinity and climbs to five-digit status, he'll definitely reward us. I'll take half the cut, and you two can split the rest!"
"Woohoo!! Boss, you're the best!!"
The lackeys cheered like they'd already struck gold.
"Alright, alright. Ag, you stay here and watch the brat. We'll use him to force that No-Name crew into a Gift Game contract."
Gift Games—the core system of Little Garden. Everything's decided through them.
If it's yours, you can wager it—your wealth, your power, even your own life.
And the winner takes all.
Normally, these contracts have to be signed willingly to be valid. But of course, not everyone plays fair. Kidnapping someone's friend or family and using them as leverage? That still happens.
Illegal? Sure.
Rare? Not really.
After thinking for a moment, the lion-head boss pointed to the silver necklace around Ryo's neck.
"Take that necklace. Leave the kid here. We'll use it to pressure the rabbit and that Ryo guy into submission."
"Smart thinking, boss!"
Grinning ear to ear, the beastmen quickly moved to follow orders. The lion-head boss and his men left, leaving Ag behind to guard the prisoner.
Once the others were gone, Ag locked the warehouse door carefully, swaggered over to the broken old chair the boss had been sitting on, and flopped down with a satisfied sigh.
Meanwhile, Ryo—still silent since giving up his info—finally looked up.
He squinted at Ag and asked casually, "So... this Taigo guy... how rich is he, exactly?"
"Huh? You talkin' to me, brat?" Ag shot up, irritated. His face twisted.
Ryo didn't respond. Still wearing "Jin Russell's" face, he mused aloud, "If he's aiming to buy a Divinity, that puts him in the six-digit range, right? Runs a casino too, doesn't he? If that's the case, five hundred gold coins shouldn't be a big deal for him."
"You talk too much."
Ag stomped toward him and raised his hand again.
Smack.
"Ah, shit—" Ag winced in pain, cradling his hand. "Damn, that hurt..."
Ryo didn't flinch. He just chuckled.
"What's wrong? Didn't eat enough today? That slap was pathetic."
"You little—!"
Ag roared and lashed out with a kick, aiming straight for Ryo's head.
Whoosh.
His foot went straight through.
Crash!
It smashed into the wall behind Ryo, leaving a gaping hole.
Ag froze.
"Wh-What...? My foot... it went right through him..."
Tiny embers sparked in the air as Ryo slowly grinned.
"Oops. My bad."
With a sudden motion, he broke the chains holding him, stood up, and began snapping his previously "broken" fingers back into place.
"You know, it took everything I had to sit still and make your beatings look convincing."
Ag stumbled back, his face pale.
Then, Ryo's body started to grow—his body reshaping, burning with divine fire as he returned to his original form.
"Man, divine power is a beautiful thing. Shrinking your body, changing your face, faking injuries—it can do it all."
Ag trembled violently. "Y-You... what the hell are you!?"
Ryo just smiledand suddenly, his form shifted again. Now he looked just like Ag.
"Quick question," he said cheerfully. "Just how rich is Taigo?"
FWOOOSH.
Ag turned and bolted, scrambling for the exit like a madman. He kicked the warehouse door open with a crash and tried to flee.
But a second later, flames burst outward.
"Aaaaaaaaah!!"
A massive crimson hand reached from the fire, grabbing Ag like a toy and dragging him—kicking and screaming—back into the warehouse.
...
A little while later...
A new "Ag" stepped calmly out of the warehouse. He took a moment to tidy up the mess at the door, then whistled softly.
At the sound of the whistle, a green-haired child poked his head out of the underbrush, glanced around nervously, then rushed into the warehouse.
— — —
Not even half an hour later…
The lion-head boss returned with a shark-head fishman and over a dozen beastmen in tow.
Everyone—Taigo, the lion-head thug, and even Ryo (as Ag)—wore the same expression as they approached the warehouse:
They all had a bright smile.
The kind you wear when you're about to get very rich.
.
.
.