Ugh, what the hell?
Why does it feel like someone's jamming a sledgehammer into my skull? Every throb behind my eyes is like a countdown to explosion.
Then it hits me—like a flashbulb going off in my aching brain. Right. I drank way too much last night.
Bits and pieces come flooding back—blurry memories and bad decisions. After surviving a hellish day at work, that jackass of a boss insisted I tag along for some "after party." Couldn't say no without risking my job and the new bonu-- ahem i mean respect , so one drink turned into two… then ten… and, well—
Groan. I rub my temples, but it's no use. This isn't a hangover. It's something worse. My skull feels like it's about to split open.
Was something wrong with the drinks? Spoiled? Spiked?
"Ugh…"
The sound slips out—raspy, unfamiliar. I freeze.
That was my voice. But it didn't sound like mine. Not really.
I sit up too fast, and the world sways. My blurry vision adjusts—and then panic slams into me like a freight train.
Trees.
Not one or two. A whole damn forest.
I blink. Then blink again. But the trees stay.
"What the hell…?" I mumble. "Where did this come from?"
I live downtown—concrete, steel, traffic jams. Not this.
I stumble to my feet, legs wobbling like they forgot how to human. The air is too clean. Too fresh. The kind that tickles your lungs and makes you sneeze.
I haven't smelled air like this since that sixth-grade camping trip—y'know, the one that ended with poison ivy and a crushed tent.
And then—something moves.
At first, I think it's a hill. Just a normal lump of earth. But then it lifts. Higher. Floats.
"Okay… nope. Nope."
The hill isn't a hill. It's levitating. And there are others. Dozens—no, hundreds—of floating islands drifting lazily in the sky like forgotten gods decided to play Minecraft.
I slap myself. Hard. "Okay. Still drunk. Or dreaming. Or maybe dead."
But the sharp sting on my cheek says otherwise.
This is real.
Then the rustling starts. Loud. Angry. Not wind. Not birds.
Something big.
Something very big.
I turn—slow, terrified, every cell in my body begging me to run. But curiosity wins. It always does.
And then I see it.
A towering creature crashes through the undergrowth, all muscle and menace. Its eyes glow like molten gold, locked on me like I'm a steak on legs.
I throw my arms up. "Oh, COME ON! I just wanted to sleep off a hangover, not get murdered by jungle monsters!"
The creature snarls.
"Roaaar!"
The sound jolts something in me.
Ken—
That's me, apparently—spins on instinct. The leopard-demon lunges, claws flashing like polished knives.
I hit the ground hard, rolling awkwardly. Pain flares through my shoulder, but adrenaline is louder.
I scramble to my feet, heart hammering.
Eyes narrowing.
What the hell is this thing?
And more importantly—
Why the hell is it chasing me?
****
Ken barely had time to think before he tucked his head down, just missing a brush with death—one centimeter closer and his head would've been history.
"Roar!"
The beast's breath was hot against his neck. A few strands of his hair floated in the air like a warning shot. Great, now it was personal.
Ken glanced at the monster, whose mouth was practically drooling as it stared him down. "Seriously? Why does all the trouble have to follow me around?" he thought, not at all impressed by the creature's appetite for chaos.
Without wasting another second, he turned and bolted, heading toward the denser parts of the forest. If he could just lose it in the thick branches, maybe he'd be able to breathe for a second.
No such luck.
The beast wasn't just following; it was gaining on him, getting faster, pushing harder. It snarled, each growl more determined than the last.
Ken pushed through the branches, limbs flailing in a desperate attempt to ditch the thing. But no matter what, it was right there, like a shadow that wouldn't leave him alone.
And then—finally—he spotted it. A small gap between two rocks, just wide enough for him to slip through.
With no time to think, he dove in, sliding through the narrow space like a pro. He didn't even stop to admire his moves—he just hoped it was enough to shake the beast off.
Ken took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm brewing inside him, when suddenly—boom! The beast stopped right outside the slope. Its glowing eyes were locked on him, burning like a spotlight. Ken could feel the weight of that stare, and, honestly, it was giving him the creeps. He trembled, but then, something glorious happened. The beast raised its huge, clawed hand like it was about to come through, but... it couldn't.
Ken's lips curled into a smirk. "Aww, what's the matter, big guy? Too big to fit?"
He let out a small, victorious laugh.
But before he could celebrate too much, the beast did the unthinkable—it slammed its palm into the slope, and the rocks shook like a minor earthquake. Ken's smug grin fell off faster than a bad hair day. The ground trembled beneath him, and for a split second, he thought he might be crushed.
Then, just as he was about to rethink every life choice that led him to this moment, a soft, sweet voice echoed from nowhere.
"Kitty, what are you doing here?"
Hearing the voice, the beast froze mid-growl and turned its head.
Ken, still tucked in the slope like a nervous squirrel, peeked out—and nearly forgot how to breathe.
There she was.
A woman with sleek black hair, no makeup, and draped in a luxurious black fur overcoat, standing like she had just stepped off a throne and into the woods. Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief, and a slow, knowing smile curved her lips.
She lifted a hand lazily and said,
"Oh dear kitty, so this is where you're hiding? Come out already."
Ken blinked. Wait... did she just call me kitty?
But before he could roll his eyes, something else hit him.
Sniff, sniff.
That scent. That heavenly, glittery scent.
His gaze dropped to her waist—and there it was. A thick black pouch swaying ever so slightly. And oh, the smell.
Not just coins.
Not just money.
Gold.
Pure, delicious, sparkling gold.
Ken's eyes lit up like festival lanterns.
With the grace of someone who definitely wasn't hiding like a scared kitten two seconds ago, he slid out of the slope, dusted himself off, and flashed his best innocent smile.