Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan-Chapter 68: Double Trouble

Syris stood over the sleeping beast, his chest heaving as the adrenaline faded.

Naturally, since he had grown to the size of a school bus moments ago, his robes had not survived the transition. They lay in tattered black ribbons on the floor.

Syris didn’t seem to care. He turned, stepping over Kael’s massive paw, and walked toward Ren.

"Ren," he breathed, his voice rough with exhaustion. "Are you unharmed?"

Ren, who was slumped against a pillar trying to catch her breath, opened her eyes.

"I’m fine, I just need—"

Her words died in her throat.

Her eyes were perfectly level with his midsection. And since Syris was standing very close, her field of vision was entirely occupied by...him.

Or rather, them.

Ding!

[System Scan Complete: Anatomy Analysis] [Target: Syris (King Beast Form - Human Variant)] [Feature Detected: Twin Hemipenes.] [Rank: Legendary (Double Trouble).] [Dimensions: Error. Ruler too short.] [System Note: User is advised to hydrate and perhaps seek religious counseling.]

Ren’s face went from pale exhaustion to a deep shade of red.

"AHHH!" Ren shrieked, clamping her hands over her eyes so fast she nearly gave herself a black eye. "Put them away! Put them away!"

Syris paused, looking down at his own body, then back at the cowering woman. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Put what away?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement. "They are attached to me, Ren. I cannot simply store them elsewhere."

"Cover them!" Ren begged, peeking through a tiny slit between her fingers before slamming them shut again. "Oh my god, there are two of them. Why are there two?!"

"We are mates now," Syris teased, leaning down closer to her flushing face. "You must get used to the sight."

"I need bleach for my brain!" Ren cried, her voice muffled by her palms. "Please, Syris! I’m begging you! Have some decency! Think of my blood pressure!"

Syris chuckled. He found her reaction adorable. Most females in the swamp would be prostrating themselves in awe of his virility. Ren acted like he was pointing a sharp dagger at her.

"Fine," Syris sighed.

He reached down and grabbed a long strip of his ruined black robe. He wrapped it loosely around his hips, tying a hasty knot.

"I am decent," Syris announced. "You may look."

Ren hesitated. "Promise?"

"I do not lie."

Ren slowly, reluctantly, peeled her fingers away from her eyes.

She instantly regretted it.

The silk strip was almost translucent. And it was loose. It clung to his skin, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. If anything, the fabric made the outlines of the "Twin Swords" even more distinct, framing them like a gift-wrapped package of doom.

Ren’s jaw dropped. She squeezed her eyes shut again.

"That’s not decent!" she wailed. "That’s worse! It’s like a censor bar that isn’t working! I can still see the geometry!"

"Stop complaining," Syris laughed, sitting down on the floor next to her, not bothering to adjust the fabric. "If you keep staring, I will think you are eager. Would you like a closer look? I can untie it."

"No!" Ren squeaked, pressing her back against the cold stone pillar. Her heart was racing so fast she thought it might explode.

Syris leaned his head back against the pillar, closing his eyes, though the smirk remained.

"You are amusing," he murmured. "For a female who demands two mates, you act as if you have never seen a male before. Tell me, Ren... did the Tiger never claim you?"

Ren peeked at him, her face burning. "What?"

"You are shy," Syris observed, opening one amethyst eye. "Too shy for a female with a mate. Did Kael not bed you properly?"

Ren swallowed hard. She thought about her life before. She was thirty-two. She wasn’t a blushing virgin; she had dated. She had boyfriends. But they were human. They didn’t have legendary rank equipment. They didn’t have tails.

"We..." Ren stammered, looking at her hands. "We only did it once."

Syris’ eyebrows shot up. "Once?"

"Just once," Ren admitted quietly.

Syris looked at her with genuine surprise. He had assumed Kael, being a feline, would have been insatiable. A spark of possessive satisfaction lit up in his chest. ’Only once. She is practically untouched!’

"Interesting," Syris purred. "Then I have much to teach you." 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Ren groaned, burying her face in her knees. "Can we talk about literally anything else? Please?"

Syris chuckled, but his expression sobered as he looked across the room.

"Very well," he said. "Speaking of mates... what do you plan to do with him?"

Ren lifted her head and looked at Kael. The giant white tiger was still sprawled out on the cold stone, snoring peacefully. He looked harmless now, just a giant, fluffy plushie. But she knew the moment those eyes opened, the red madness would return.

Around them, the surviving snake guards were moving. They were silent and efficient, dragging the bodies of their fallen comrades away and kicking the severed limbs into swamp.

"We need to move him," Ren said, her voice turning serious. "The powder won’t last forever. How long do you think we have?"

"An hour. Maybe two," Syris estimated. "He is a King. His metabolism burns through toxins quickly."

"We need to lock him up," Ren decided, struggling to sit up straighter. "Do you have chains? Restraints?"

Syris shook his head. "For a normal beast? Yes. For a Tiger King in a feral rage? No. Metal will snap like twigs. The Dungeon is the only place strong enough to hold him. The walls are reinforced with magic."

"Then we put him in the dungeon," Ren said. "And I get to work."

"You cannot use the powder again," Syris pointed out. "The jar is empty, and what little remained is scattered on the floor."

Ren nodded grimly. "I know. I can’t sedate him again. Which means the next time he wakes up, I have to be ready with the cure."

"The cure," Syris repeated, skepticism coloring his tone. "You truly believe you can cook the madness out of him?"

"I don’t believe it," Ren said, a fierce light entering her eyes. "I know it."

Her mind began to race, flipping through her mental recipe book. She needed something powerful.

She needed a dish that grounded the soul. Something earthy. Something spicy to sweat out the toxins, but rich enough to coat the nerves. It needed to be a melting pot of flavors.

It had to be soul food.

She gritted her teeth, ignoring the protests of her bruised legs, and pushed herself up from the cold stone floor. She stood tall, eyes burning with culinary determination as she formulated the perfect recipe in her head.

"Syris," Ren announced, wiping the muck from her face. "Get him to the dungeon. I am going to the kitchen."

She took a deep breath, her focus narrowing on the ingredients she would need.

"Gumbo," Ren whispered.

And just as the word left her lips, the makeshift snake-skin knot behind her neck gave up the ghost. The top slid silently down her body and fell at her feet.