Warden of the Beast World: Everyone is a Hakimi

Ye Tang pushed the food delivery cart to the observation area corridor and stopped in front of the security door of the first detention area. Then she discovered a problem that should have been discovered that morning.

The food delivery channel has a small square door about 20 centimeters long and wide, designed to deliver standard-sized nutrient solution tubes and small amounts of medicine.

The insulated box in her hand could be squeezed in, but the steamed buns inside couldn't—the two buns were bulging and stacked in the box, their height exceeding the conveyor opening by a considerable margin.

She tried tilting the box, turning it to the side, and flipping it over, but she couldn't get it in no matter what she did. The corners of the insulated box got stuck on the metal frame of the conveyor, making a crisp clanging sound.

Ye Tang stood with her hands on her hips in front of the teleportation portal, staring at the small square hole for three seconds. Then she decisively gave up, turned around, grabbed the doorknob of the security door, and swiped her access card into the recognition area.

With a "click," the heavy alloy security door popped open.

The sound of the door hinges turning was particularly clear in the quiet corridor.

Inside Observation Zone One, the white tiger, which had been lying on the stone platform pretending to sleep, opened its eyes.

Jing Yao stood up from the stone platform, his massive body stretching out, the muscles undulating beneath his snow-white fur, and light gray tiger stripes extending from his back to his abdomen. Every step he took carried a mountain-like sense of composure and pressure.

He walked to the center of the observation area, his amber tiger eyes slightly narrowed, looking down at the small female at the door who wasn't even as tall as his shoulder when he was standing.

The moment the security door opened, a silver-gray shadow flashed in front of Ye Tang. Youlie's four legs were slightly apart, its center of gravity lowered, the hair on its neck stood on end, and its gray-blue eyes stared calmly and sharply at Jing Yao, letting out a very low, warning growl from its throat.

He knew that the person opposite him was the Marshal, his superior. Even when he was sober, he couldn't defeat this peak S-rank White Tiger in a head-on confrontation. But if the Marshal lost his mind due to a mental outburst and accidentally injured Ye Tang, he would bite him, no matter who the other person was.

Jing Yao's gaze shifted from Ye Tang to the silver-gray giant wolf in front of her, his amber tiger eyes narrowing slightly.

He certainly recognized Ghost Hunter—his major general, deputy commander of the Northern Frontier Defense, who had disappeared three days ago, causing chaos in the military. Now he was in Zero Prison in beast form, acting as a guard behind a little female, and even baring his teeth at him.

Interesting. However, Jing Yao didn't say anything, but simply turned his gaze back to Ye Tang.

From Ye Tang's perspective, the large white tiger in front of her stood up, its huge head almost level with her chest, and its amber eyes were staring at her with a puzzled yet curious look.

Those eyes were clear and bright, the pupils slightly contracted into ovals due to the light, and paired with the symmetrical white tiger stripes on his face, they didn't look like the majestic gaze of a marshal to her at all, but rather like a big cat tilting its head and acting cute.

"Big Cat—no, no, Grand Marshal," Ye Tang quickly corrected his form of address, but showed no fear on his face. He took two steps inside with the insulated food container, placed the plate on the edge of the stone table, and said, "Time to eat."

Jing Yao paused for a second. Big Cat. He had lived for thirty-seven years, rising from a colonel to a marshal. His military achievements, earned on the battlefield, filled half of the hall of honor. Everyone addressed him as "Marshal," "Commander," or "Lord White Tiger."

The last person to call him "Big Cat"—no, never. But years of aristocratic refinement made him merely twitch his beard and look down at the contents of the insulated box.

Two small white buns, with skins so thin they were translucent, pleats pinched delicately and evenly, and surfaces slightly glistening with oil and water droplets formed from condensation.

Next to it was a bunch of lush green plants, the same kind she had brought this morning. The bottle of S-grade special nutrient solution was relegated to the side of the plate, looking out of place.

Jing Yao lowered his head, curled his tongue, and put a small steamed bun into his mouth.

Then he chewed once, paused for a moment, and chewed a second time.

From Ye Tang's perspective, the white tiger's ears twitched twice, its tail tip involuntarily curled up, its amber eyes narrowed slightly, and its pupils widened in relaxation due to some kind of pleasure.

When he ate the second one, he was clearly less restrained than with the first one—he curled his tongue, and with a snap, the bun was gone.

Ye Tang watched as a large white tiger ate a steamed bun with its eyes half-closed, its ears twitching, and felt her heart skip several beats. It was so cute. Cuter than all the cute pet compilations she'd seen on Blue Star combined.

Her reason screamed in her head, "This is the Imperial Marshal, please stay sober!" but her hands were no longer obeying her reason. She stretched out her right hand, her fingertips landing on the soft, thick fur on the white tiger's head, running from between its eyebrows along the direction of the fur's growth all the way to behind its ear.

Jingyao stopped chewing.

He had half a bun in his mouth, maintaining the posture of eating with his head down, while his amber eyes looked up at the little female who was putting her hands on her head with an extremely complicated expression.

The last time someone touched his head was probably when he was still nursing; his mother used her paws to pull him into her arms and lick his fur.

No one in the entire Imperial Military dared to touch the head of the Marshal of the Third Army Corps. Even his adjutant would deliberately keep an arm's length distance when handing him documents.

And now, a little female, in his observation area, while he is awake, is rubbing his forehead.

He stopped chewing, stopped thinking, and his brain briefly went blank.

Ye Tang stroked it for a while, from the tiger's head to the base of its ears, and then from the base of its ears to the thick mane on the back of its neck. Her technique was professional and her rhythm was even. She subconsciously muttered, "So soft," "Softer than I imagined," "My God, this amount of fur"—then her fingers touched the tip of Jing Yao's ear, which trembled slightly. She suddenly realized what she had just done.

She touched the Imperial Marshal's tiger head. She was fully conscious. She hadn't been given any sedatives.

"Uh—it feels good. I mean, sorry, I was wrong!"

Ye Tang recoiled as if burned, staggering back three steps and nearly bumping into You Lie behind her. Her expression shifted dramatically from "intoxication" to "panic" as she retreated toward the door, stammering incoherently as she tried to explain herself.

"Um, eat the steamed buns while they're hot, the catnip helps with digestion, and you can have the nutritional supplements as you like—I'm going to deliver food to Number Two now!" Before she finished speaking, she had already retreated to the outside of the emergency door, closed it behind her, leaned against the corridor wall, and covered her burning ears with both hands, her face turning red from her neck all the way to her forehead.

Ghost Hunter stood beside her, his wolf-like face bearing an expression that said, "I knew you were brave, but I didn't know you were this brave."

He had already fully grasped Ye Tang's level of courage after her feat of using a net to catch the vast ocean yesterday, but today she has once again pushed the limits of his understanding.

Jing Yao, Marshal of the Third Legion of the Empire, rose to fame at the age of seventeen on the Snow Abyss battlefield, having killed at least a reinforced company of enemy generals. She patted the head of this god of war and complimented its feel.

Youlie turned his head and glanced behind the glass wall—Jing Yao was still standing there, his tiger-like face displaying a very subtle expression, somewhere between bewilderment and thoughtfulness.

He didn't get angry, didn't release any mental pressure, and didn't even take a step back. He just stood there quietly, still slowly chewing the half-eaten bun, his tail swaying gently from side to side behind him.

Youlie had known the Marshal for thirteen years and had never seen him show such an expression. It wasn't like anger at being offended, but more like... not having reacted yet.

But his reaction time was obviously longer than Ye Tang's. He didn't have time to think about it now, because Ye Tang had already pushed the food cart to the entrance of Observation Zone No. 2.