Limitless Evolution As a Snake

Channel’s pout somehow gets worse. Bottom lip wobbling, blue eyes doing the wounded puppy thing.

"WELLL?" she says, like she’s owed something here.

I glance over at her, not exactly rushing to make her feel better. "Sorry, sweetheart, my women needed me." Nailed it. That sounded exactly like something a guy with multiple girlfriends would say. I turn my head back to the counter, letting my coils go slack to project boredom. "Yo, spider, can I get another unicorn for the doll here?"

Channel blinks, the wounded puppy act short-circuiting in real time. Guess that look works on guys who aren’t giant, bulletproof snakes with a literal anti-charm stat. The spider barista nods fast, clearly relieved to have a task that isn’t watching a hit-woman’s seduction attempt bounce off me.

The spider barista shuffles back over with the new cup, sets it down in front of Channel with a little nod my way. I nod back, professional courtesy between service industry snake bros.

Channel doesn’t even look at the cup properly, too busy still working her pout like she’s trying to get a refund on it.

Old Mate isn’t letting it go, though, no way.

[System: OI OI HAHAHA CRIKEY MATE. LOOK AT THE SIZE OF THAT CUP COMPARED TO CHERRY’S ONE. HE GAVE HER THE SMALLER ONE. HAHAHAHA GET FUCKED, CHANNEL.]

I glance at the cup. Yeah, okay, it is smaller. Barely smaller. But smaller.

Petty as hell and I love it.

Not going to say anything though, no point starting a war over cup sizes with an assassin who’s already decided she’s coming to my dad’s warehouse uninvited.

I nudge Lyra with my head and curl my tail lightly around Cherry’s wrist, herding them toward the door, and sure enough I can feel her falling in step behind us like she was always part of the group; she didn’t even ask. Just moves her way into the outing.

I stop, turn around, and look at the girls first.

"Go on ahead," I say. "Do what you need to do, Lyra, but then go home, please, get some sleep, I’ll see you both there in a moment."

Lyra doesn’t move straight away, looks back at me with that little crease between her eyebrows she gets when she’s deciding whether to argue. "Are you sure?"

"Yep, go on."

She nods, still not totally happy about it but trusting me anyway, and heads off.

Cherry just bounces on the spot for a second like she’s got extra energy to burn then takes off after her, dress bouncing with her, completely unbothered.

Which leaves Channel and me.

I turn to her, pulling my upper coils into a tight, defensive knot, the closest a snake can get to crossing its arms.

"Why are you following me? This is my uncles’ turf. Aren’t they hunting you?"

She does this thing where her whole face lights up like I’ve said something romantic instead of pointing out she’s walking into a den of people who want her dead.

"Oh, Matt!!! You know I’m safest with you, so obviously I’m coming with you!!"

Her eyes do that little glint. The evil one, the one that means she’s already three moves ahead in a game nobody else knows they’re playing.

[System: dunno what she’s cooking up, but she’s got that look like she wants to cook fish for dinner tbh.]

Yeah, gross, thanks, Old Mate.

I don’t argue with her, don’t have the energy, and honestly some small dumb part of me wants to see what happens when Channel and my uncles are in the same room. Free entertainment.

We head into the warehouse.

Dad’s already there, and the second he spots me, his whole face does this bright, delighted thing, as if Christmas came early.

"Matthew! Look at you! My boyyyy!" He’s practically vibrating. "You look so much cooler now, way more mafia prince, less pool noodle."

Rude, but fair.

Hana’s off to the side, bows properly, wolf ears sharp and alert. "Young master. Welcome back."

Then her eyes slide over to Channel, and one eyebrow goes up slow, deliberate. She leans in toward me, voice low.

"Do you know she’s an assa-"

"AH," I cut in, loud, confident, waving a coil like I’m swatting the sentence out of the air. "Hana, yes, I know. Don’t worry about it. I got it sorted."

Full cocky, zero hesitation. The way a man talks when he has genuinely no idea if he’s got it sorted or not but refuses to show it.

Hana just bows again. "Yes, young master. Understood."

Dad claps his hands together, way too pleased with himself.

"So! Everyone’s been nagging me lately, so we’re doing a DNA test!"

[System: oh yeah bloody oath this’ll be interesting.]

"Yeah, sure, can do," I say. "What do I spit in? What do you need?"

"That’s my boy! No hesitation!" Dad beams, actually beams, like I just won an award. "My brothers are so stupid for even doubting it. Oops, cat’s out of the bag. Oh well, you can hardly call them snakes anyway."

Behind him, over near the back of the office, Hansen and Harden are doing the worst job of pretending to be busy with paperwork I have ever seen in my life. Necks stretched, ears practically swivelling toward us.

Hana produces a little jar out of nowhere, and I take it from her gently in my jaws. "Spit here, young master."

I spit, as elegant as ever.

Dad does the same into his own jar, no drama, completely relaxed about the whole thing.

Channel’s watching all of this with way too much interest for someone who claims she’s just here for safety.

A few minutes pass. Hana runs it through some little device, checks the readout, then hands the results to Dad.

"Undeniable match," she says. "He is your son."

Wait, what the fuck, old mate, you told me you lot spawned me. What’s this son business

[System: I dunno what to tell you cunt, that’s just what happened.]

Right, so old mate spawned me?

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