Death Stock was not a village in the way outsiders imagined.
Those who had never seen it pictured a quiet settlement with scattered homes, farmers tending fields, and narrow dirt roads winding between simple wooden structures. That illusion shattered the moment one stepped inside its borders, because Death Stock was something far larger, far denser, and far more controlled than any ordinary village had the right to be.
It stretched outward in uneven layers, expanding over decades without any real design, shaped instead by necessity, power, and survival.
The outer districts were where the poorest lived, a chaotic sprawl of leaning wooden buildings stacked close together as if they relied on each other just to remain standing. The streets there were narrow and often damp, the ground uneven, turning to thick mud whenever rain fell, and even when it didn't there was always a lingering smell of rot, smoke, and unclean water that never fully disappeared.
People in those parts of Death Stock lived quietly, speaking in low tones, avoiding unnecessary attention, because attention often led to problems, and problems in a place like this rarely ended well. Outsiders passed through, workers came and went, and no one asked too many questions sense they didnt care or it made them feel superior as long as nothing disrupted the balance that allowed everyone to continue existing.
But as one moved inward, the village began to change.
The roads widened first, slowly replacing dirt with worn stone, and the buildings grew sturdier, less desperate in their construction. Shops lined the streets in uneven rows, blacksmiths hammering metal with rhythmic force, tailors calling out to passing customers, merchants displaying goods ranging from basic supplies to items that hinted at wealth far beyond the reach of the average resident.
This was the commercial heart of Death Stock, where noise never truly stopped and movement never slowed, where people blended together in an endless current of trade and survival. It was the kind of place where someone could disappear if they knew how to move, how to act, how to exist without being noticed.
And At the very center was a huge wall surrounding the inner section inside is where all the highranking nekos and avrage nekos lived
The place was made of stone floor and a way cleaner street, and you would often spot people with fluffy ears but there was also normal people there if they had enough power and status.
The buildings where designd in a beautiful way and people often had expensive robes and jewelry
And there, surrounded by a wide, empty perimeter that no one dared to cross without purpose, stood the Ruler's Mansion.
It rose above everything else, its structure more refined and deliberate, its presence alone enough to remind every resident of exactly who controlled this place. Guards patrolled constantly along its outer edges, their movements precise, their awareness sharp, and even from a distance one could feel the quiet pressure that radiated from that area, as if the air itself carried authority.
From that center, control spread outward Not visibly or loudly but undeniably and today That control was tightening.
The change had started subtly, almost too subtle for most to notice at first, but those who paid attention could feel it in the rhythm of the streets. Guards moved differently now, no longer wandering aimlessly or chatting idly as they patrolled, but sweeping through districts with purpose, their routes overlapping, their coverage increasing as if an invisible net was being drawn slowly but surely across the entire village.
They were all Nekos.
Every single one of them.
Their sharp eyes scanned crowds with unnatural focus, catching small movements, irregular behaviors, anything that didn't fit. Their ears twitched at sounds too faint for human perception, reacting to distant footsteps, hushed conversations, even changes in breathing patterns when people grew nervous under their gaze.
It was not just training It was instinct and instinct was far harder to deceive.
Long ago, before most living residents had even been born, Death Stock had belonged to humans. Back then it had been smaller, weaker and easier to control, but that had changed the day the Nekos arrived in force, led by a third-core ruler whose strength had shaken the entire region. The battle that followed had been brutal, a direct clash between leaders that ended in death, but the outcome had already been decided the moment that fight began.
Once the human ruler fell, there was no one left strong enough to resist.
The rest had been easy and since that day power had never changed hands again. Now no one questioned Neko rule Because those who did Didn't last long as power makes right.
Near the commercial district, five figures approached a clothing store.
They didn't rush and tried to not draw attention to themselves but their fluffy ears and white small tail, caused nearby conversations to quiet as they passed, an instinctive reaction from those who understood danger even if they couldn't explain why.
The bell above the door rang softly as they entered.
Inside, the air shifted.
The clerk behind the counter looked up, her polite expression forming automatically before freezing just slightly as she took in the sight of them. It wasn't their clothes that gave them away not even that they where of the neko race, nor their posture alone, but the way they observed the room, the way their eyes moved without wasting motion, taking in every detail without appearing to focus on anything at all.
"Welcome, what can i help you sirs w—" the clirk smiled as she greeted them.
the lead investigator pulled out a badge from his pocket and showed it to her. "Hello, we suspect that someone came in earlier," the lead investigator said, cutting her off as he removed his gloves with slow, deliberate movements. "male dark eyes and hair, Around this height." He gestured subtly "and he wore a suit"
The girl's smile faltered.
"I—I'm not sure—" naturaly she know exactly who thease guys where as soon as they showed the badge and it frightend her just a little.
"You are," he replied, his gaze settling on her with quiet certainty there was no aggression in his tone, no raised voice.
But the weight behind his words made it impossible to ignore.
Her ears twitched nervously.
"…Yes," she admitted, her voice lowering despite herself. "He didn't stay long."
"Describe him."
She hesitated, searching her memory.
"He looked normal. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Nothing that stood out he want around looking for something to buy and i didnt see him after that."
The investigators exchanged brief glances.
"Of course," one of them murmured under his breath while stroking his white beard.
The lead investigator's gaze shifted toward the back of the store.
"The fitting room."
The words hung in the air for a brief moment before the lead investigator stepped forward, his pace was unhurried as his gaze was already fixed on the back of the store.
The others followed without question.
The clerk remained frozen behind the counter, her hands gripping the edge slightly tighter as she watched them disappear behind the curtain. She didn't dare move because if they think she had anything to do with it she would die.
Inside the fitting area, the space was quiet too quiet that's because people have already been informed to leave as soon as they showed their badge.
Curtains hung loosely over narrow changing stalls, the air carrying a faint scent of fabric and dust. At first glance, nothing seemed out of place no overturned objects just some discarded clothing like panties jackets and stuff.
Just… normal.
But none of them relaxed.
The lead investigator stepped into the center of the room, his eyes moving slowly taking in every inch. The others spread out without needing instruction, each one checking a different section with practiced efficiency.
One crouched slightly, running his fingers along the wooden floor.
Another pulled a curtain aside, scanning the corners of the stall.
A third tilted his head listening anything.
"Theres Nothing obvious" one of them muttered.
"Of course not," the man with the white beard replied quietly. "If he was careless, we wouldn't be here."
The lead investigator named bral said nothing his gaze had shifted upward while there was a faint pause then he said "check the roof of every looker room."
The others followed his line of sight.
"The roof ofcourse" one of them said.
They all began poking in the roof of every room.
One of them while poking saw a small, square outline in the ceiling. Barely noticeable unless someone was actively looking for it. The wood around it was just slightly misaligned compared to the rest, the edges worn in a way that didn't match the surrounding panels.
the investigators stepped closer, narrowing his eyes "HEY, i think i found something" he screamed to the others.
They all rushed to his room and saw him having opend a hole in the roof "that's a Hidden storage," another said. "Or a stash point."
Bral stepped forawed and moved beneath it, his expression unreadable as he studied the details. The edges weren't broken there wasnt any splinters or force.
It had been opened cleanly and Recently.
"It's too clean," the bearded man murmured.
The investigator on the bench leaned in slightly, inspecting the inside.
"There's no items left behind no tools just nothing."
Bral's eyes lowered slightly "no, not nothing."
He stepped forward, reaching up just enough to brush his fingers along the inner edge of the roof.
Then He rubbed his thumb "hmm nothing" he mutterd beneath his breath
"wait theres no dust where you just touched does that mea-" but before the white bearded man could finnish bral interrupted him.
"That's right He stored something here," he said calmly. "Clothes or a bag with clothes most likely."
Another investigator crossed his arms.
"So he came in wearing one identity… and left with another."
"Not just clothes," the bearded man added. "Time aswell."
The others glanced at him confused.
"He stayed here long enough to prepare to not arouse suspision" he continued. "Not just a quick change. That means he expected pursuit."
Bral stepped back down, his gaze sharpening slightly.
"This bastard has planned this for some time it seems"
The word lingered.
One of them let out a quiet breath. "Then he's not just some desperate thief."
"No," the white bearded man replied."He's too careful."
A pause.
"And smart."
Another investigator walked toward the entrance of the fitting room, glancing back briefly.
"If he changed here, then he walked out through the front like everyone else."
"And blended in," someone added.
Bral nodded once.
"Which means we're no longer looking for the man who entered."
His eyes moved slightly in thought as if calculating the next move and said "We're looking for someone who already adapted."
Silence followed that.
"But his Height stays the same," one of them said.
"Build too," another added.
"So his face changed and Clothes aswell. Maybe even his Behavior adjusted."
The bearded man exhaled softly.
"That still leaves half the village."
Bral turned toward the exit.
"Then we reduce it."
He stepped out of the fitting room, the others following closely behind as they returned to the main area of the shop. The clerk immediately lowered her gaze again, her posture stiff.
"Did he buy anything?" the lead investigator asked.
"No after i last saw him i didnt see him again" she answered quickly.
"Of course," one of them muttered.
Bral reached into his coat and pulled out a small notepad, writing something down with quick before closing it again.
"Anyone else come in shortly after him?"
She hesitated.
"…There were customers," she said carefully. "But no one suspicious."
The investigator watched her for a moment longer.
Then he nodded slightly.
"Of course, that's all"
He turned away.
"Let's go."
The group exited the store as quietly as they had entered, but the tension they left behind lingered in the air like a weight that refused to lift.
Outside, the streets were already shifting further.
There where more guards and more patrols.
Bral stepped to the side of the road, his gaze scanning the moving crowd as his mind worked through everything they had gathered.
"He had a plan before the theft, He prepared a disguise. And he stayed calm under pressure. Then he escaped through a crowd without being tracked, He's not running blindly."
The man with white beared named Zio said
"Witch means he'll avoid obvious exits and be caught like a fool" while
"so no gates probably avoiding main roads as their being searched " another added.
"He'll stay inside the village," Zio concluded.
Bral's eyes narrowed slightly as he said "Yes." And taking a slow breath "Because leaving now… would be suicide."
He turned, his gaze shifting across the district
"Which means he's hiding."
A pause.
"And waiting."
The air felt heavier somehow not because of fear but because the hunt had changed. This was no longer about tracking a fleeing thief.
This was about outthinking someone who was already thinking ahead.
The lead investigator's lips curved faintly.
"Intresting."
His voice was quiet. But there was something sharp beneath it now.
"Then let's see how long he can keep that up."