There was an unexpected silence, and then. "If you are joking, it is not funny." His tone completely changed. Before, it was simply playful and unserious, but now it became cold and dead serious. The atmosphere seemed to react, becoming tense. I didn't feel like we were separated by distance and literal cages; I felt like he was in front of me, with those sharp eyes staring straight at me, pressuring me to answer.
'What is up with this *****, it isn't even a big deal,' I thought. Well, that's what that captor said, right? You only need a little bit of self-control (Chapter12).' Remembering this, most of the pressure I felt vanished, and I looked at him. Though I had seen him before, only now do I see the creature questioning me in his true majesty, standing directly in front of the bars.
Standing more than2 meters high, with claws that seem like they could cut down every obstacle, including the bars in front of it (even though they couldn't even scrape it), his fur was rusty red on his head, sides, and limbs, with a paler stomach or underbelly. His tail is black, long, and bushy, as it curled around his right leg.
"I am not," I answered, irritated. I continued, "What is all this stupid pressure? Are you trying to harass me? Or are you saying this is impossible for me because I am a member of the weakest race!" By the end of the questioning, I was yelling. I guess that was my attempt at trying to free myself from his intimidation.1
(Sigh) "What a fool," he said very clearly and continued without giving me any chance to interject.
"First, sorry for the pressure. Second, I wasn't. And third, yes, it is supposed to be impossible for a member of the weakest race category to be able to conquer their desire… but I believe you. There is no way you even knew there was something called Racial Desire before you became a captive.
"But let me tell you one thing… Overcoming racial desire is much more challenging than you might imagine."