As an experimental subject, it had already awakened a certain degree of intelligence; although it could not communicate with humans, it could understand their intentions.
It had no name. Its previous owner always called it Number Five.
It felt that Number Five should be its name, although it found the name unpleasant to the ear.
Number Five stared at the man in front of it, baring its teeth and grimacing.
This man, not only did he show no fear of it, but he had also punched it, sending it flying. The sight of the ferocious tiger phantom surging forth from his arm had startled it.
Damn it!
Could it actually be afraid of him?
This feeling of insult was new to Number Five, a creature that fed on fear.
But then!
What the man said next left it utterly dumbfounded.
He wanted it to hand over its salivary glands?
Is that something a human would ask?