37; HUSBAND!

The air in the mess hall seemed to thicken the moment A11—Leone—approached Leo. He was seated at the far end of the bar counter, his fingers loosely gripping the metallic cup filled with sleb, the mixture of formling flesh blended into a porridge-like concoction. The camp had become his prison of sorts, a place where Leo was constantly confronted with his own mission and the shadows of the past. In the midst of this oppressive existence, he was accustomed to being left alone, undisturbed. But Leone's presence had a way of cutting through that silence, like a knife pressing against the stillness.

Leone didn't hesitate. She walked up to Leo, her graceful steps leaving a trail of whispered gasps behind her as she placed her hand on his broad shoulder, standing beside him with a confidence that was hard to ignore. Her voice was smooth, almost teasing, as she leaned in and said with a flirtatious smile, "Hi, honey."

Leo's eyes remained fixed ahead, his gaze unblinking, his expression as neutral as ever. He took another sip of his sleb, the tang of blood and formling flesh doing little to disturb his thoughts. He knew what she was doing, and he knew it wasn't going to stop.

Muede, who had been standing nearby, was quick to pick up on the situation. With a knowing grin, he stepped away from the counter, muttering to himself. "Ohoh, don't mind me, just going to get something." His words were delivered with an almost sarcastic humor as he disappeared into the back room, leaving Leo and Leone alone.

The other hunters in the hall, observing the unfolding interaction, carried on with their routines as if nothing unusual was happening. They had seen this drama unfold countless times before. Leone and Leo, their strange, unspoken dynamic— it was like a circus act they had grown tired of watching. It was common knowledge that she was infatuated with him, and yet, no one ever interfered. Leo was the silent, deadly force in their midst, and anyone who dared to confront him had learned their lesson.

Leone, undeterred by the lack of attention from the surrounding hunters, let her hand linger on Leo's shoulder for a moment longer enjoying the amusement.

Leo's eyes flickered briefly to her hand, his gaze as cold and impassive as ever. He said nothing at first, taking another deliberate sip from his cup. The silence between them stretched, tense and heavy, before he finally spoke, his voice low and unwavering.

"Talk. What is it that you want?"

Leone let out a soft laugh, a melodic sound that seemed out of place in the otherwise grim atmosphere of the camp. She looked at him with an almost teasing glint in her eyes. "Oh, is it wrong for a wife to see her husband one last time before she goes to war?" Her words hung in the air, dripping with innuendo.

Leo didn't react. He simply stared at her, his expression unchanging. He wasn't a man who played games, and Leone's attempts to fluster him only seemed to amuse her further. She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

"Stop referring to me as your husband," Leo said flatly, his tone as cutting as a blade. "We have no relationship of such sorts."

Leone pouted dramatically, her eyes widening as if in mock surprise. "Ahh, that really breaks my heart, dear husband," she cooed, leaning even closer. Her hand, still resting on his shoulder, slid down his arm with slow, deliberate movements. Without warning, she snatched the cup from Leo's hand, bringing it to her lips.

She took a long, languid sip from the cup, savoring the sleb as if it were some kind of sweet nectar, licking the top curve of the cup as she tilted it back. Her eyes never left Leo's as she drank, her actions deliberately provocative. When she finished, she lowered the cup and smirked at him.

"Isn't that regarded as an intimate relationship?" she asked, her voice a teasing whisper. "Or perhaps a kiss?" Her eyes danced with mischief, watching Leo's reaction for any sign of weakness.

Leo didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. Instead, he set the empty cup down on the counter with a soft clink, his gaze narrowing just a fraction. The flicker of annoyance in his eyes was brief, but it was enough.

He rose from his seat, clearly intending to leave. But Leone wasn't done. She swiftly stepped in front of him, her body blocking his path.

Leaning in close, her breath warm against his ear, she whispered, "You know, we could do it, right? All you need to do is give in, and I promise you the best time of your life."

For a moment, Leo's expression flickered—just for an instant—as if the weight of her words had actually reached him. But before she could savor any sense of victory, Leo's large hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and removing her hand from his shoulder with surgical precision.

"Keep your hands to yourself," he muttered, his voice like stone.

And just like that, Leo turned and walked away, leaving Leone standing in the center of the mess hall, her lips slightly parted in surprise. She stared after him, her hand still outstretched, fingers curled as if reaching for something that would never be hers.

"Feisty, huh?" she murmured to herself, her voice low, almost disappointed. A half-smile played on her lips. "If you'd only bring that energy to bed…" she whispered, but her words were lost in the murmur of the camp.

But before she could ruminate on her failure, Leone's attention was caught by the stares of the other hunters in the room. They had been watching, no doubt, as was always the case when she interacted with Leo. Their eyes, hungry for gossip, quickly turned away when she caught them staring. She wasn't going to let them get away with it so easily.

"What are you losers staring at, huh?" she snapped, her voice rising in a sharp command.

The hunters, uncomfortable under her sudden outburst, immediately turned their attention elsewhere, pretending as if nothing had happened, as if their focus had never wavered. A few muttered apologies under their breath, avoiding her gaze entirely.

But there was one among them who couldn't look away.

From the corner of the mess hall, D44—Kyle—watched the entire scene unfold. His broken right hand was wrapped in a tight bandage, the remnants of his defeat at Leo's hands. His gaze was dark, burning with a hatred that seemed to radiate from him like an invisible storm. He had witnessed the interaction, seen Leo's indifference, and his blood boiled with jealousy.

As Leo walked away, leaving Leone standing alone, D44's fingers tightened around the empty sleb cup in his left hand. He crushed it without a second thought, the sound of metal bending under the pressure barely registering in his mind. His face contorted with a mixture of fury and frustration.

"C66," he muttered, his voice low and venomous. "C66…" The words came out like a curse, a bitter reminder of Leo's superiority and the shame that clung to D44 like a second skin.

He stood there, seething with emotion, his teeth grinding together in a futile attempt to control the rage building inside him. Leo had humiliated him, taken everything from him, and now, he had taken the one thing D44 had wanted most.

As Leo disappeared into the distance, D44's gaze followed him, his eyes burning with a promise of revenge.