“Sir, requesting permission to keep suspect as a pet.”

His subordinate’s bizarre question made Edward’s scheming grind to a halt. The black-haired woman was gently stroking the unconscious Mimic’s imitation wood surface with a tiny smile on her face.

“Really, Zone? This again?”

“Affirmative.”

“Haah. Alright, I’ll bite. Why?”

“I have determined it is quite cute.”

This problem child always had a twisted sense of aesthetics. This wasn’t the first time she made the ludicrous request of keeping a murderous monster around as a pet, either.

“Also, there is a high chance that it likes me,” she added.

“I highly doubt that. It just tried to take you hostage, you know.”

“It did? When?”

“You know, when it wrapped those tentacles around you?”

He wiggled his fingers for emphasis. His subordinate tilted her head in confusion.

“That wasn’t a hug? But it was so squishy and warm...”