Barto's gaze was drawn to the little Mixed Breed's feet.
A strange feeling welled up inside him.
'Strange. Are a Dwarf hybrid's feet this small? This... clean?'
Barto felt something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
He watched Gu Ning quickly pull on her socks, then pinch the cuffs of her pants as she stuffed her feet into her tall boots. It didn't take long for him to realize what was wrong.
Her feet weren't mutated. They were normal, human-like feet.
No matter the type of Mixed Breed, the feet were the first to mutate during regression—claws sharp, soles wide and thick, some even sprouting hair.
In Barto's eyes, Gu Ning's feet were far too delicate.
He had never seen a Mixed Breed with such delicate, clean feet.
Besides, he was a size smaller than the average Dwarf hybrid.
Gu Ning finished changing her shoes, patted the head of Cook who ran over to see her off, and left for work without a moment's delay.
Barto wanted to call out to her, but after a moment's thought, he swallowed the words.
The moment Gu Ning's door closed, he walked toward her bedroom.
He pushed on the door but couldn't open it. It was locked.
Barto took a piece of wire from his pocket and was about to pick the lock when Cook rushed in front of him and snatched the wire from his hand.
"Give it back." Barto tried to grab it back, but Cook let out a "WOOF!" and bit down on his hand. Then, he stood guard at the bedroom door, refusing to let Barto pass no matter what.
"Not... allowed!"
Ningning had told him that Barto could only stay in the living room; he wasn't allowed in the bedroom.
Furious, Barto felt like hitting him with an iron rod, but ultimately decided against it.
'Fine, if he won't let me in, he won't let me in. I'll just ask when Gu Ning gets back...'
Suddenly, Barto froze and looked at Cook, who was still guarding the door.
'I can just ask him!'
Barto first ran to the living room and grabbed a bag of meat sausages. He tore open the bag and tossed one to Cook.
Cook caught it in his mouth and devoured it in two bites.
Barto knew this was his favorite food. Holding up another sausage, he said, "I'll ask you a question. If you answer me, you get a sausage."
Cook nodded.
Barto: "How old is Gu Ning?"
Cook held up his hands, counted his fingers, then tilted his head in thought before flashing a 'two' with his fingers, then another.
Barto: "Twenty-two?"
Cook nodded.
"So he's an adult Mixed Breed then," Barto murmured under his breath. He tossed a sausage to Cook and continued, "Do you know what zone he was from before?"
Cook shook his head.
Barto: "Does he usually contact anyone?"
He carefully considered Gu Ning's usual demeanor and actions, along with those delicate, unblemished feet. 'His family must be well-off.'
'That thirty thousand was also suspicious. To be able to buy a thirty-thousand-credit gun just like that... whether that was all the money she had or if there was more, the way she spent it suggested she had lived a comfortable life.'
'Also, the fact that she can't use a gun is very suspicious.'
'The only zones that completely prohibit weapons are Zones One through Five.'
'But a weapons ban doesn't mean you can't get your hands on one. And Beastmen are born fighters, even without being taught.'
'But Gu Ning, this little Mixed Breed, has reached this age and still can't use a gun. He doesn't even look like he knows how to fight...'
Barto thought hard. Something felt wrong, but he couldn't pinpoint what. So, he fired off a series of questions at Cook about his life with Gu Ning, their habits, and so on.
Cook stopped answering him. He stared at Barto for a moment, his brow furrowed. Then, he snatched the bag of sausages from Barto's hand and simply turned his back.
'Barto is being bad right now. I'm not playing this question-and-answer game with him!'
"..."
Seeing Cook with his back to him, Barto was so angry he kicked him in the butt. "You ungrateful mutt!"
...
"Alex, those Mixed Breeds aren't coming back."
The foreman, Terry, swiveled in his chair, propped his feet up on the desk, and pulled his attention away from his terminal for a few seconds to glance at the Beastman who was engrossed in the Mixed Breed files.
"That's just how these Dwarf hybrids are. They're the worst at following rules. Work for less than two weeks, get paid, and they're gone."
Without looking up, Alex tossed the payroll report onto his desk. "That's because they're not stupid. You only paid them a third of their wages."
Terry shrugged. "That's all they're worth. It's the rule in Zone 19, Alex. You're from Zone 5, used to the good life. You don't understand these Dwarf hybrids."
Alex flipped through the files of the Mixed Breeds who hadn't clocked in for work. "Who made that rule?"
Terry went back to scrolling through his videos. "Not me, anyway. It's what everyone does."
Alex frowned and looked up at him. "Are you telling me that for all the defensive fortifications here, Mixed Breeds are only paid a third of what everyone else gets?"
"Yeah," Terry said nonchalantly. "The guys on the west side pay even less than I do. I'm already being generous."
"Don't look at me like that." Sensing Alex's dark mood, Terry sat up a little straighter. "Look at the attendance records for those Dwarf hybrids. How many of them are ever on time? That's just how they are. If they did the same work as everyone else, I'd definitely pay them the same."
Alex looked at the separately listed absentee records. They were almost all Dwarf hybrids.
He scrolled down with his finger. In just half a year, there were hundreds of absentee Dwarf hybrids.
"If they run, they run. Some of the real bastard ones even swipe our materials to sell. Tell me, if winter hadn't come early this year, leaving us short-staffed and in a rush, who would ever hire them?"
Looking at the records, Alex said, "Before I got here, you didn't even have them sign formal contracts."
"Who gives a Mixed Breed a contract?" Terry shot him a strange look.
"Union regulations," Alex said, his expression serious. "Like I said, they're not stupid. You don't give them a formal contract, and you pay them two-thirds less than the other Beastmen. Of course they're going to run."
Terry gave a dismissive laugh, not taking his words seriously. 'I don't know if these Dwarf hybrids are stupid,' he thought, 'but this manager who got dropped into Zone 19 is pretty stupid for being such a stickler.'
'Who cares about those Mixed Breed bastards anyway?'
"This Mixed Breed..."
Alex flipped to the end of the records and saw a familiar name.
"Cook..."
His gaze lingered on the Mixed Breed's photo. 'Is this the Dwarf hybrid I saw the day before yesterday, the one asking Terry for his wages?'
'He looks like this?'
Alex couldn't help but recall the scent he had caught on the Mixed Breed that day.
'Something's not right.'
Somehow, he had a strange intuition that this Mixed Breed shouldn't look like this.
Alex couldn't figure out why.
After looking at the photo for a while, Alex clicked on the Mixed Breed's name to view his work record.
Alex discovered that from the day this Mixed Breed was hired, he had near-perfect attendance. Aside from two days marked in red, he clocked in and out on time, more diligent than many of the Beastmen.
"This one, he's absent today too?"
Alex showed Cook's record to Terry.
Terry glanced at it and said, "Oh, him. He was pretty diligent before."
He had a vague impression of Cook because he was one of the most consistent at clocking in, but that impression was limited to his slightly better attendance record and the day he got into a fight with a group of Beastmen.
"He probably won't be coming back either."