Chapter 1

My name is Mabel Lloyd, and I make a barely decent living repairing household appliances.

Two weeks ago, on a night when the rain came down heavily, I found a soaking-wet stranger huddled outside my apartment building.

He was ridiculously handsome, an incredible cook and had only one glaring flaw — he was painfully shy.

Whenever anyone asked his name, he would blush so hard his ears turned bright red, then stand there in complete silence, unable to get a single word out.

I could not bring myself to leave him out in the rain, so I rented him the spare storage room in my apartment.

Everything was fine.

Until today.

I heard knocking at my door and, when I went over to check who it was, the building manager was standing there with three men in black suits.

The one in front flashed a badge, his expression unreadable.

"Routine inspection. Bureau of Supernatural Affairs.

"We have reason to believe an unregistered fox shifter may be hiding on these premises."

Before I could even process what he had said, a loud clang rang out from the kitchen as a frying pan hit the floor.

The very next second, my painfully shy tenant cautiously peeked around the kitchen door. A pair of fluffy white fox ears twitched nervously on top of his head and, when he spoke, his voice shook so badly it sounded like a washing machine caught in the spin cycle.

"Mabel... don't open the door. They're here to drag me home for an arranged marriage."

Chapter 1

"Don't open the door. They're here to drag me back for an arranged marriage."

My hand froze on the doorknob.

Outside stood three men in matching black suits, all staring straight at me.

Inside, my tenant, Brandon Simmons, stood in the kitchen with a spatula in one hand and two fluffy white fox ears sticking out of his hair.

A pot of creamy mushroom chicken simmered on the stove, filling the apartment with the warm smell of butter, herbs and black pepper.

It felt strangely cozy.

Completely insane.

"Ms. Lloyd."

The man in sunglasses at the front pulled out a badge.

"We're from the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs, South District Branch. We received a report that you're illegally harboring an unregistered fox shapeshifter."

I lowered my eyes to his ID.

The man in the photo looked just as serious as he did in person. Under Position, it read:

[Marcus Bison, Field Operations Director, Bureau of Supernatural Affairs]

I looked up at him.

"Bison? That's actually your last name?"

"Correct." He nodded without changing expression. "It's my family's surname."

"Oh." I studied him for a moment. "That explains why you look like a brick wall."

Marcus' expression darkened instantly.

From the kitchen doorway, Brandon lowered his voice.

"Mabel, don't mess with him. His true form is a bison. He's always had a bad temper."

A vein twitched on Marcus' forehead.

"Brandon," he said through gritted teeth, "stop sharing personal information about your coworkers."

I whipped around. "Coworkers?"

Brandon's fox ears twitched nervously as his eyes drifted toward the frying pan.

"...Former coworkers."

"I thought you told me you were unemployed."

"I am." His voice got quieter with every word. "I got suspended from the Bureau... That still counts as being unemployed... right?"

I took a deep breath.

I had found him crouching outside my apartment building two weeks ago.

His white dress shirt had been soaked through. His face was pale. He was hugging a battered old suitcase like the whole world had abandoned him.

He had told me he had lost his driver's license, his phone had died and that someone had stolen his wallet.

I had believed every word and had even bought him dinner.

It turned out...

The thing he had really lost was not his driver's license. It was his Supernatural Resident ID.

Outside, Marcus cleared his throat. "Ms. Lloyd, we'd appreciate your cooperation.

"Brandon is suspected of fleeing an arranged clan marriage in violation of the Supernatural Marriage Accord. He also has three outstanding disciplinary reports that he has yet to submit."

I stared at him, completely speechless.

The first two charges were weird enough. The last one sounded suspiciously like someone forgetting to turn in their weekly work reports.

Brandon's fox ears shot straight up.

"When did I violate the Marriage Accord? They were the ones trying to force me into that engagement!"

Marcus looked at him calmly.

"As heir to the Whitetail Fox Clan, you fled your own engagement ceremony in front of everyone. More than three hundred guests waited in the ballroom for six straight hours. Do you have any idea how many complaints the Bureau received afterward?"

"That's their own fault." Brandon hugged his spatula tighter and muttered under his breath, "I told them from the beginning. I never liked that girl from the Peacock Clan."

Marcus added without missing a beat, "Funny. She didn't like you either. However, at least she didn't run away from the wedding."

Brandon had absolutely no comeback for that.

Standing between them, I felt like I had accidentally wandered onto some supernatural version of a reality dating show.

"Hold on." I raised my hand. "So... he's not human?"

Marcus glanced at me. "Strictly speaking, no."

I turned back to Brandon.

"So, when you said you were naturally afraid of dogs… It was because you're a fox?"

He lowered his head. "Yeah."

"And when you said you couldn't eat onions because of an allergy?"

"Our species has... special dietary issues."

"And when you said you liked hugging a tail-shaped pillow while you slept because of childhood trauma?"

His face turned bright red.

Then, behind his apron...

A fluffy tail slowly appeared.

One.

Two.

Three.

Until there were nine.

In the blink of an eye, my living room looked like someone had stuffed it full of nine giant comforters.

Marcus held out a hand. "Brandon. You're coming with us."

Brandon looked at me. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

"Mabel... I don't want to go back."

My first instinct was to say, 'Buddy, this is way outside my job scope to repair.'

However, there he stood with his ears drooping, nine tails dragging sadly across the floor, with the creamy mushroom chicken still bubbling away on the stove.

Before I could think better of it, I stepped in front of the door.

"He's my tenant. We signed a legal lease. Until that lease is over, nobody's taking him anywhere."

Marcus frowned slightly.

"Ms. Lloyd, do you understand the consequences of harboring an unregistered fox shapeshifter?"

"I do." I reached toward the toolbox beside the wall. "And if you force your way into my apartment, I'll file a complaint for unlawful entry and disturbing the peace."

"We're acting within the law," Marcus replied.

"Then do you have a search warrant?" I asked.

Marcus fell silent.

I smiled.

Years of repairing appliances had not taught me everything. However, arguing with apartment managers, landlords and impossible customers?

I had become a professional.

Marcus stared at me for three full seconds before turning to one of his agents.

"Make a note. The human subject appears to possess an unusually strong awareness of counter-surveillance."

I blinked.

Did people at the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs get chewed out by nosy old ladies on a regular basis?

Marcus put away his badge. "Ms. Lloyd, we'll be back tomorrow. I hope you've made up your mind by then."

Brandon had just let out a relieved sigh when a sharp female voice echoed down the hallway.

"There’s no need to wait until tomorrow."

The hallway lights flickered.

A woman in a long crimson coat walked out of the stairwell. Behind her followed two young Bureau assistants, each carrying an expensive-looking gift box.

She looked no older than her mid-thirties.

However, her icy eyes made it feel as though they could strip away every disguise a person wore.

Brandon's face turned pale.

I whispered, "Who's that?"

He swallowed hard. "My aunt."

The woman stopped in front of my apartment and smiled. The smile was beautiful, but there was something deeply unsettling about it.

"You must be Ms. Lloyd. I'm Julia Simmons, acting head of the Whitetail Fox Clan."

She placed a bank card in my hand.

"There's five million dollars in that account. Please hand my nephew over."

I looked down at the card.

Then back at her.

"What's the PIN?"

Brandon stared at me in horror, and even Julia looked caught off guard.

I slipped the card back into her hand and shut the door.

"Just kidding."

Before the door fully closed, Julia's voice slipped through the narrowing gap.

"Mabel. You might be able to protect him for one night. However, you can't protect him forever."

Chapter 2

The second the door clicked shut, all nine of Brandon's tails exploded into full fluff. They looked like nine giant white feather dusters that had just been scared half to death.

I leaned against the door and stared at him.

"Start explaining."

Brandon clutched the spatula so tightly his knuckles turned white. After a painfully long silence, he finally blurted out, "The mushrooms are going to burn."

"Brandon."

"I should turn off the stove first," he said in a rush.

"Brandon."

"They're seriously going to burn."

I stepped aside.

He bolted into the kitchen, fumbling to switch off the burner. His tails whipped across the dining table, sweeping my screwdriver, the TV remote and half a bag of chips onto the floor.

I crouched down to pick everything up.

He stood beside me with his fox ears flattened low against his head.

"I'm sorry."

"How much have you lied to me about?" I asked.

"Not much."

"Tell me."

"My name is real." He glanced at me cautiously. "And... I'm really male."

I grabbed the screwdriver.

He immediately added, "My age isn't. I'm not twenty-six. I'm a hundred and twenty-six."

My hand jerked. The screwdriver almost landed on my foot.

"One hundred and twenty-six?"

"Fox shapeshifters don't become adults until much later."

"Then why were you pretending to be some recent college grad living in my apartment?"

"I look like one."

That, unfortunately, was true.

Brandon had one of those clean, youthful faces that looked like life had never thrown a single problem his way.

No one would ever guess he was actually older than my great-grandmother.

I sat down on the couch. "Keep going."

He shuffled over and sat across from me, folding all nine tails neatly into a fluffy pile.

"I'm the heir to the Whitetail Fox Clan. I was interning at the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs, helping to register supernatural residents."

"Interning?"

He nodded.

"You're a hundred and twenty-six years old and still an intern?"

He pressed his lips together. "The supernatural job market isn't great either."

I had no comeback for that.

Fair enough.

Nobody had it easy these days.

He explained that his aunt, Julia, had always wanted him to become the next head of the Whitetail Fox Clan.

The fox clans cared deeply about bloodlines, and he was the only heir of his generation born with nine tails.

The problem was that Brandon had crippling social anxiety. Forget leading an entire clan, he could not even order coffee without writing down what he wanted to say and memorizing it several times beforehand.

Determined to force him into accepting responsibility, Julia arranged a political marriage for him.

His fiancée was the heir to the Peacock Clan. She was beautiful, proud and intimidating. The very first thing she had said when they met was, "If you so much as touch me after we're married, I'll rip out every one of your tails and hang them over my fireplace."

Brandon ran away that very night.

"So why did you end up outside my apartment?" I asked.

He lowered his head. "I was trying to get to the train station."

"And?"

"I came out of the wrong subway exit."

"You got so lost you ended up in my neighborhood?"

"My sense of direction is... pretty bad."

"You're a fox, not a husky."

He muttered under his breath, "Honestly... huskies have a better sense of direction than I do."

I rubbed my forehead.

The creamy mushroom chicken in the kitchen had gone cold. He carried it over and gently set it in front of me.

"Do you... still want to eat?"

"Of course." I picked up my fork. "Just because I got lied to doesn't mean dinner has to go to waste."

Only after he saw me take the first bite did the tip of one of his tails finally relax.

It was delicious.

As ridiculous as his story was, his cooking was unquestionably amazing.

My phone suddenly rang.

An unknown number.

The moment I answered, Julia's voice came through.

"Ms. Lloyd, you turned down the bank card. That tells me you aren't blinded by money."

I let out a dry laugh. "Thanks for the compliment."

"So I decided to try something else." She sounded almost cheerful. "That appliance repair shop downstairs from your apartment... it belongs to you, doesn't it?"

My fork froze halfway to my mouth. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing much."

I could practically hear her shrug.

"The Whitetail Fox Clan manages hundreds of social media accounts. By tonight, your business page will have a few hundred one-star reviews."

She paused deliberately.

"The headline will read...

"'Don't ever use this repair shop. The owner is sheltering a fugitive fox shapeshifter.'"

I was speechless.

Brandon shot to his feet. "Aunt Julia, you can't do that!"

A soft laugh came from the other end.

"Brandon, adults have to live with the consequences of their choices. If you refuse to come home, she'll pay the price instead."

I stared down at the creamy mushroom chicken. Suddenly, I was not hungry anymore.

That repair shop was all my dad had left me. He had passed away when I was young. The shop was old, the sign had long since faded, and it survived only because loyal customers had kept coming back year after year.

Every day, I repaired washing machines, dryers, dishwashers and every kind of broken household appliance people dragged through the door.

I worked hard for one reason: To keep the shop alive.

If our rating got buried under fake one-star reviews, we would sink in the search results. New customers would disappear, appointments would start getting canceled and the business my father had built would slowly die.

That would hurt far more than taking a knife to me.

Brandon's voice shook. "I'll go back with you. Just... please leave her shop alone."

I looked up.

"Sit down."

"Mabel..."

"I said sit."

Slowly, he lowered himself back into his chair.

Then I spoke into the phone.

"Mrs. Simmons, is bullying people like this the Whitetail Fox Clan's idea of doing business?"

Julia's voice instantly turned cold. "Ms. Lloyd, watch your words."

"I already am." My voice stayed calm. "If you flood my shop with fake one-star reviews, I'll post the truth online. I'll tell everyone your clan tried to force Brandon into a political marriage. I'm curious to see what the media and the public think about that."

The line went quiet.

Then Julia chuckled.

"And who exactly would believe you?"

I looked at Brandon. His fox ears were still sticking out. I raised my phone and pointed the camera at him.

Click.

Brandon blinked.

"Mabel?"

I spoke into the phone. "Want to guess whether the internet likes real fox ears?"

Julia's voice turned ice cold. "You'll regret this, Mabel."

The call ended.

Brandon looked at me, his eyes already rimmed red.

"You didn't have to make an enemy of her because of me."

I set my phone face down on the table.

"I didn't."

He blinked.

"Then why?"

I took another bite of chicken.

"Because I hate it when people threaten my shop."

Chapter 3

The one-star reviews hit at two in the morning.

I had barely fallen asleep when my phone started vibrating like it had lost its mind.

One notification.

Ten.

Fifty.

[The owner flirts with married men while fixing air conditioners.]

[Stay away! There's a fox shapeshifter living in this repair shop. You can hear creepy noises at night.]

[She never fixed my fridge. Instead, a fox tail smacked me right in the face.]

I sat upright in bed. The more I read, the more awake I became.

Brandon stood in the doorway, hugging his pillow. His voice was quiet.

"I'll go find her."

"So, you can walk right into her trap?"

"They're coming after me."

"However, they're destroying my business."

I opened the shop's dashboard. Our rating had already crashed from 4.9 stars to 3.2.

A system notification popped up.

[We've detected an unusual number of recent reviews on your business. Please pay close attention to customer feedback and continue providing quality service.]

I nearly crushed my phone.

Brandon's tail drooped onto the floor.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't enough." I threw off the blanket and got out of bed. "Do you know anything about computers?"

"A little."

"How little?"

"I maintained the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs' archive system."

I froze. "And you call that 'a little'?"

He answered honestly. "I was afraid you'd think I was bragging."

I shoved my laptop toward him.

"Then show me."

Brandon sat down in front of the computer. The moment his fingers touched the keyboard, everything about him changed.

His shoulders straightened and he stopped staring at the floor. Even his fox ears perked up with confidence.

Lines of code flew across the screen so fast they blurred together. Standing beside him, I could not understand a single thing. It felt like I was watching some kind of high-tech magic.

Less than ten minutes later, he stopped.

"They're all fake accounts. The IP addresses were disguised, but they all trace back to the same source."

He tapped the screen.

"Whitetail Media Group."

I blinked.

"Your fox clan has a media company?"

"Yeah." Brandon nodded. "They mainly handle relationship counseling, matchmaking services and social media management."

"It’s no wonder they're so good at spreading lies."

He pressed Enter, and a mountain of files filled the screen: account registration dates, payment records, private group chats... everything.

As I read through the chat screenshots, my blood pressure climbed.

The group was called:

[Operation: Bring the Heir Home]

One message read:

[Target: Female. Twenty-eight years old. Appliance repair technician. No connections. Easy to manipulate.]

Easy to manipulate?

I laughed.

Brandon looked at me nervously.

"Please don't laugh like that. You're scaring me."

I picked up my phone, logged into the shop's account, and recorded a response video.

Brandon wore a baseball cap. His nine tails had been stuffed under a blanket, although the tip of one stubbornly poked out.

Facing the camera, I said, "To all my longtime customers, and to everyone seeing this for the first time, my repair shop has been targeted by an organized fake review campaign tonight.

"I'll be releasing all the evidence. I've already filed a police report and reported these fake reviews to the platform. If anyone wants to keep posting fake one-star reviews...

"Go ahead. We've got plenty of things in this shop."

I picked up a wrench. "And most of them are made of steel."

Brandon quietly added from beside me, "And security cameras."

I turned to look at him. He immediately shut his mouth.

Ten minutes after I posted the video, the comments exploded.

[This owner is fearless. I love her.]

[Hold on. Who's the cute guy next to her? Are those ears under his cap?]

[I've been following this shop for three years. She even brought my grandma's ancient hot plate back to life. There's no way she's a scammer.]

[The review saying she seduced someone's husband while fixing an AC had me crying. Drop the address. I volunteer to be seduced.]

I was speechless.

The internet really had a talent for focusing on the wrong thing.

Brandon stared at the comments. Little by little, his fox ears started poking out from under his cap.

"They said I'm handsome."

"Put them away."

"...Okay." He obediently stuffed the ears back under the cap.

The video kept gaining traction until four in the morning.

Finally, the platform assigned a real customer service representative to contact me.

The woman sounded exceptionally polite.

"Ms. Lloyd, we've officially opened an investigation into the malicious review attacks against your business."

"It'd better be fast," I replied calmly. "Because if this isn't resolved by tomorrow, I'll take all my evidence to the Consumer Protection Office, livestream the whole thing and repair a broken toaster right outside the front door."

Silence.

Two full seconds.

"...We'll move your case to the highest priority."

After hanging up, Brandon quietly poured me a cup of hot water. "You're amazing."

I collapsed into my chair and waved a tired hand.

"Amazing? I'm so exhausted I could fall asleep standing up."

He lowered his head and smiled.

It was quick.

Barely there.

However, I caught it anyway.

I had to admit it. When Brandon smiled, he was almost unfairly handsome.

My phone buzzed again. This time it was a text message.

[Sender: Unknown]

There was only one sentence.

[Tomorrow at 10:00 a.m., the Legal Department of Whitetail Media Group will officially file a lawsuit against you for damaging the company's business reputation.]

I handed the phone to Brandon.

The moment he finished reading, the color drained from his face.

"They're serious now."

I tightened my grip around the mug.

"So, this is how supernatural creatures fight?

"First fake reviews, then lawyers?"

Brandon looked up. For once, his expression was completely serious.

"Mabel... I can't keep dragging you into this."

"What are you planning?"

"I'm going back to Whitetail."