The assassins slithered into the room, blades glinting faintly in the dim light. Their leader, Kaelith, moved with the calm certainty of a man who had slit more throats than he could count. His gaze swept across the nursery, landing on the only living soul in sight—me.
A grin crept across his face, cold and merciless beneath the mask.
"Sorry," he murmured, voice carrying an almost mocking softness. "I know you're innocent… but we can't abandon our job. So, for our well-being… please die."
I almost snorted. Haah—what is this? A child-hating assassin cliché? Couldn't he at least come up with something less edgy? I mean, I don't even know why a group of trained killers is targeting a newborn baby, but hey, that's not my department.
I sighed inwardly. Nyxara, looks like it's time to put your plan into motion… along with mine.
Her voice chimed, far too cheerful for the moment.
[Oh~ which one, Host? Are you finally going to play Pandaman?]
I groaned, facepalming internally. "No, Nyxara. Not that cursed panda act. I mean the trump card plan—my greatest weapon: Charm. It's time to activate it at full power."
[Ohhh! Fufu~ this will be good. Make them fall in love with your baby panda cheeks, Host!]
The assassin's footsteps grew louder, steady, deliberate. His knife glinted as he drew closer to the cradle.
I kept my eyes closed, waiting. Five seconds. Four. Three. Two—
My eyes snapped open, gleaming like polished gems under the flickering light.
And then—
I smiled.
Not an ordinary smile, but the kind that could disarm hearts, melt wills, and make even cold-blooded killers question life choices.
The effect was instantaneous.
Kaelith froze mid-step. The hand gripping his dagger trembled, his breath catching in his throat. Behind him, the other assassins stiffened, their masks hiding their faces but not their hesitation.
For a single absurd moment… the nursery filled not with killing intent, but with stunned silence.
[Hehehe~ behold! The terror of SSS-Rank Charm! Even seasoned assassins can't resist the allure of my adorable little panda~]
"Wha—what is this…?" Kaelith muttered, his blade lowering despite himself.
I tilted my head, widened my eyes, and let out the tiniest, most innocent giggle.
Game on.
The moment the assassins laid their eyes on me, they froze mid-step, blades trembling in their hands as though they had suddenly forgotten what they were for.
Sensing their hesitation, I amped up my act another notch—waving my tiny arms and wiggling like the most innocent baby panda in existence.
Nyxara's voice rang out, bubbling with laughter.
[Hahahahaha~! I can't take it, Host! Look at them! A squad of trained assassins—stone-cold killers—falling head over heels for a baby! At this rate, you'll murder them with cuteness overload!]
"Shut up," I snapped internally.
[No, I can't! I mean just look at their faces—questioning their life choices already! I'd bet half of them are wondering if this job is worth it, and the other half… oh-ho~ they're probably questioning their gender preferences. Hehehe~ some of them are even thinking they might be ped—]
"Stop. Right. There." I screamed in my mind before she could finish, my whole soul cringing.
I didn't plan for that particular angle, but whatever—if this held them even for a few more minutes, I'd take it.
And sure enough, the heavens seemed to be on my side.
The assassins began muttering—at first uncertainly, then louder, until their hushed whispers turned into full-blown bickering.
"Boss… I-I can't stab him. Look at that face!"
"Shut up, idiot! Remember the mission!"
"Then why are your hands shaking, huh? You want to cuddle him too!"
"…Maybe I do. You got a problem with that?"
Their so-called captain—Kaelith—snapped at them, but even his voice wavered.
"Focus! He's the target! Don't let your guard down!"
Yet I could tell. The reminder wasn't for them—it was for him.
The bickering dragged on for a good five minutes—five minutes of hardened killers arguing like children in a candy shop.
Finally, their captain had enough. His jaw tightened as he stepped forward, his figure cutting through the circle of indecision. Slowly, almost reverently, he crouched before the cradle.
One hand reached out toward me, fingers curling as though to scoop me up. The other, however, still clutched a knife, the cold gleam betraying the tenderness of his gesture.
I was ready to play along, to milk his hesitation further—until—
Click.
The bathroom door opened.
Every assassin in the room froze, their heads snapping toward the sound. Eyes widened, throats tightened.
There she stood.
Selene Aurelith.
My mother.
Her presence filled the dim room like a tidal wave—graceful, unyielding, radiating a pressure that even in her weakened state was enough to make assassins flinch.
The captain stiffened, his mask doing nothing to hide the tension twisting his face. He turned back toward me, perhaps for reassurance, perhaps for resolve.
But what he saw wasn't the sight of a helpless, innocent panda baby anymore.
No.
What stared back at him was a grin—sharp, deliberate, wrong for a child barely hours old. A grin that dripped with experience, with manipulation, with satisfaction.
The kind of grin that whispered: Checkmate.
And for the first time that night, the assassins realized they weren't the hunters at all.
They were the prey.