Satoru Gojo

The entire campus was buzzing with news—the Beastar graduated from this school, the esteemed white wolf hybird Gojo, was returning to give a speech at your school. He wasn't just admired by students; he was your idol, the very person you'd aspired to become.

Renowned as the face of peaceful coexistence between carnivores and herbivores, his influence was unmatched. He tirelessly advocated for equality and harmony, championing reforms for the rights of herbivores.

As one of the few lop-eared rabbits at school, you dreamed of following in his footsteps—protecting the vulnerable, bridging the divide between herbivores and carnivores. His courage, idealism, and legendary achievements captivated you completely.

You were so excited you barely slept. Early in the morning, you carefully adjusted your school uniform, meticulously combing your soft, drooping ears.

While rushing to the lecture hall with notes clutched tightly in your arms, you accidentally collided with a tall, solid chest.

“I'm so sorry!” you nervously apologized, scrambling to gather your papers from the floor. A long, elegant, pale hand reached down and picked them up for you. When you raised your eyes, your heart nearly stopped—standing before you was the most handsome creature you'd ever seen.

The silver-furred wolf wore a tailored black suit, exuding both danger and softness simultaneously. His beautiful yet intimidating presence left you frozen in place. His clear, ice-blue eyes gazed at you, amusement flickering in their depths.

“Be careful next time,” he said softly.

You nodded dumbly, heart racing uncontrollably. Before you could even thank him, he gently patted your head, turning gracefully toward the stage. Thunderous applause erupted from the hall as he walked onto the platform.

So that was him—Satoru Gojo, the peaceful idealist you’d idolized for so long.

---

Half a year later, you were roughly dragged out of a freezing cold truck, completely disoriented.

Your father's staggering debts had collapsed your family’s finances. Ruthless creditors had burst into your dorm, gagging your mouth, shoving you into a burlap sack, and tossing you onto a vehicle destined for a place you'd never imagined—the Black Market.

You were thrust into a cramped cage, suffocated by the stench of rust, blood, and an overwhelming foulness. The underground alleys were damp, filthy, and oppressive. Severed limbs lay discarded at corners. Your feet were soaked in unidentified sticky fluids, and bones—once belonging to herbivores—lay scattered around.

In shadowy corners, carnivores shamelessly intertwined, emitting obscene and cruel sounds. You trembled violently, desperately pressing your ears down, yearning to escape this nightmare of bloodshed, lust, and violence.

Predatory eyes openly appraised your exposed limbs and quivering ears, their hunger obvious. This raw exhibition of carnivorous instincts made you nauseous. Was this the hidden reality beneath your beloved, peaceful society? Was peace merely a mask to hide all this depravity?

You shook uncontrollably, sick with fear, until rough hands forced you onto a brightly lit stage, harshly blindfolding you.

---

The black market auction was nothing new, and originally, he hadn’t planned on attending. Tonight’s offerings were mundane, the meat unremarkable. Yet, as the market’s hidden overseer, he occasionally had to show his face.

Who lived, who died, who was sold, who was reserved—he decided all of it. While openly preaching harmony and coexistence, he'd never truly stopped the cycle beneath the surface.

He despised this place. Despite orchestrating it, he loathed the filthy, crude appetites of these lesser carnivores.

Satoru Gojo lounged lazily in the VIP seats, sipping a glass of "wine" mixed with herbivore blood. He remained disinterested until the glass showcase appeared.

“Our next product is exceedingly rare... a lop-eared rabbit. Pure herbivore, petite body, obedient temperament... Starting price: 100,000 !”

Lewd whistles and shouts erupted from the crowd below. The room buzzed with revolting excitement. Some carnivores openly discussed whether to bite or use them first, one suggesting that cutting off their ears and drying them would be particularly delicious.

Inside the transparent case, the tiny, trembling rabbit lay naked, blindfolded, a collar and chains binding her delicate limbs. Pressed against the glass corner.

Then, a scent drifted toward him—

Entirely different from the filthy surroundings. A familiar fragrance, clean yet sweetly grassy, tinted with fear and suppressed heat. His keen senses instantly recognized it.

His ears perked immediately, his tail flicking unconsciously behind his seat. His pupils constricted sharply.

He remembered clearly—the collision in the lecture hall corridor, the admiring eyes gazing up at him.

---

He didn't immediately raise his bidding card, merely leaning back into his chair, licking his lips. Slowly sitting upright, he removed his mask, eyes locked onto the rabbit.

His heart squeezed briefly—not from emotion, but hunger.

You looked fragile and enticing, like a delicately prepared dessert just for him.

When the auctioneer announced the price for the third time—

“Five million.”

His calm yet amused voice pierced clearly through the crowd. Silence fell instantly. Everyone knew the Arbiter rarely showed interest in any merchandise personally.

Even the small rabbit’s trembling ears stopped moving at the sound of his voice, breath halting entirely.

---

You were brought into a luxurious, unfamiliar room. The blindfold was finally removed.

The setting was lavish yet somber, and directly in front of you sat the white wolf, still impeccably dressed in his fine suit. When he took off his blindfold, you saw clearly those ice-blue eyes again. Shock, fear, and rage surged violently within your chest.

Peace advocate. Hero. Orator. Beastar.

Satoru Gojo.

Sensing your turmoil, he slowly approached, looking down at your frightened form. His voice was soothing yet chillingly gentle.

“Little rabbit, this world isn’t as beautiful as you believed.”

“Peace demands sacrifice. Without a place like this, did you really think carnivores would suppress their instincts obediently?”

He crouched, lifting your chin lightly with one finger, pushing aside your trembling ears as he whispered—

“Even I am still just a carnivore, after all.”