Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 34: A Cat Tea Party
Father Kalen was feeling a little hungry, but he still decided to return to Mr. Anti’s residence first and deliver the message that “Young Master Karns and his lover would be staying out overnight.”
He picked up some roast meat from a street stall on the way and ate as he walked. It looked appetizing enough but tasted rather bland. Fortunately, Father Kalen wasn’t particularly picky about his food.
“Meow~”
A cat’s cry sounded nearby.
Father Kalen looked up and saw a calico cat crouched on a low wall. Its coat was patchy and dry-looking, and its body was all skin and bone. Staring with yellow-green eyes, it fixed its gaze directly on the roast meat.
The priest kindly pulled apart the roast and took out the least-seasoned portion. “Here, little one.”
The cat watched him for a while, then quickly dropped its guard. It leaped down from the low wall and devoured the meat in a few gulps. After that it began rubbing itself against Father Kalen’s feet, mewing continuously.
A few more cat heads popped up over the wall, curiously peering at Kalen.
The thoughts of small animals were more like those of young children: simple ideas, direct emotions. Father Kalen crouched down and stroked the warm little head of the calico cat. “Yes, I’m happy to meet you too.”
The calico cat began purring amiably.
When Kalen’s hand reached its neck, he paused slightly. Around the cat’s neck, he felt a strip of rotting soft cloth, like the remains of a collar.
“I see… You were abandoned.”
Kalen sighed. “Would you be willing to chat with me? As payment, I’ll treat you to sea bass. You can bring a few friends too.”
“But you’ll have to wait until midnight. I need to make some preparations first.”
“Meow-ow-ow—!”
Kalen scooped up the skeletal cat and carried it all the way back to Mr. Anti’s residence. Only when they reached the entrance did he set it down again.
“This is the place. I’ll be waiting on the balcony then.” Kalen pointed toward his room. “There’s a dog in the courtyard, so don’t disturb it.”
Night was deepening, yet the little dog still slept soundly beneath the trees, a butterfly settling lightly onto its nose.
…When Kalen delivered the message, Mr. Anti showed no sign of surprise. He merely nodded. “I’ll have the cook prepare less food.”
“If possible, I’d like fifteen nice fat roasted sea bass, no seasoning. I’m willing to pay,” Kalen said.
“No need. They’re only sea bass.”
Anti smiled. His irises were a very deep reddish-brown, nearly black in the night. “You’re a friend of Young Master Karns, which means you are my guest as well.”
Kalen nodded gratefully and lightly touched his chest with his right hand. “By the Lord of Shadows above, may His veil shroud you, unseen and unharmed.”
Anti: “Thank you. If you need anything else, please do let me know.”
With that, he turned and left, his departing steps just as proper and measured as before. Kalen watched his retreating figure from the corridor. The hallway was utterly silent, the shadows swallowing up those lifelike specimens and reducing them to thin silhouettes.
Crk.
A faint sound suddenly came from the corner.
Kalen thought perhaps the cats had arrived early, so he leaned over to look. But he saw nothing at all. There was only a small round table in the corner, with an exquisite crystal globe ornament on top.
Was it just his imagination? Father Kalen scratched his head and went back to his room.
Considering the, ah, special relationship between those two, Father Kalen had been given a guest room of his own. The room had been cleaned thoroughly, and the aged wooden furniture shone warmly in the lamplight.
There was a specimen decorating this room as well: a red fox posed in a remarkably lifelike, agile stance. Its fur was fluffy, its tea-colored eyes bright and alert, as though it might dart away the next instant.
Father Kalen didn’t particularly like this kind of preserved creature. He frowned at the fox, then opened the balcony door. His guest room had a small viewing balcony with a round tea table on it, and it was fairly spacious.
Fifteen roasted sea bass took up a full eight plates. Father Kalen carefully arranged them on the balcony floor and sprinkled over a very small amount of catnip as flavoring. Then he poured out two large basins of clean water and waited quietly for the cats to arrive.
At midnight, the calico cat came as invited. Nine other cats came with it, sitting on the balcony railing and curiously observing Kalen.
“Go ahead and eat, everyone. Don’t be shy,” Father Kalen invited them softly.
The cats leaped happily down from the railing, devouring the deboned fish, their purring rumbling nonstop. The calico cat was especially bold and jumped right onto the table, eating from the plate in front of Kalen.
“Has anything strange been happening in the city lately?” Kalen asked quietly.
“Meow meow… ow-ow!”
“The number of stray cats has suddenly increased?” Kalen was a little surprised. “What about humans? Have there been any odd changes on the human side?”
The calico cat swallowed a large mouthful of fish and gave a quiet mew that sounded like a negative answer. Kalen stroked the cat’s bony back and fell into thought.
Commoners rarely kept cats shut indoors. They preferred letting cats wander freely around the neighborhood. If there had suddenly been more strays on the streets, it was more likely that noble households had abandoned them.
But for nobles, keeping a cat wasn’t much of an expense. Even if they could no longer keep one for some reason, they would usually give the pet to a servant rather than abandon it outright.
“If you don’t mind, please tell me your story.”
The calico cat licked Kalen’s hand lightly, then began to express itself with some difficulty—
Its former owner had been a lovely little boy who liked cinnamon rolls, so he had named the cat Cinnamon.
Humans said Cinnamon was ugly, but the little boy didn’t care in the least. He would save pieces of chicken breast and egg yolk from dinner, cut them into small pieces, and feed them to it. Sometimes Cinnamon also helped him drink his goat’s milk, since its young master disliked the smell.
But as Cinnamon grew older, the atmosphere in the household became increasingly strange.
The master of the house became inexplicably volatile, while the mistress shut herself alone in her room, crying day after day.
Whenever his parents went into their frenzies, the little boy would hold Cinnamon helplessly and curl up in a corner in silence. Cinnamon didn’t understand what was happening, so all it could do was purr softly, trying to comfort the child.
The child buried his face in its soft fur and cried ceaselessly.
But after some more time had passed, the boy too gradually lost his affection for it.
He began screaming that it was ugly: its fur pattern was unattractive, its eye color not special, its features not cute enough. He never gave it chicken breast or egg yolk again and even poured away the goat’s milk instead of letting it drink.
Cinnamon was bewildered. It couldn’t understand what had happened to this family. Fortunately, they still spared it a few mouthfuls of food, their reasoning being that “the neighbors all know it’s our family’s cat and throwing it out would be too embarrassing.”
Then, half a year ago, Cinnamon went out for its usual nighttime walk and smelled something warm, metallic, and sweet. It more or less understood what it was.
It was animal blood.
Even though it was the middle of the night, its mistress was dressed in elaborate clothing and lying in a pool of blood. Her face had been hacked apart with an axe until it was a ruin of flesh and gore. Around her neck hung more than a dozen necklaces, their jewels glittering brilliantly amid the bloodstains.
Its master was similarly dressed in formal clothes, hanging in midair. The bloodied axe lay at his feet, while his own body was just as soaked in blood. He was covered with exquisite jeweled brooches, so many that they nearly hid every inch of exposed skin, each pin fixed deeply into flesh.
Beautiful moonlight covered the two corpses, while the prismatic shimmer of gemstones danced ceaselessly over dead flesh.
What followed was several days of chaos. Cinnamon disliked strangers, so while people came and went, it hid beneath a cabinet the whole time. And when it finally came back out, the little house was already empty.
Its young master had been taken away by strangers.
But he had not taken Cinnamon with him.
“…And after that, you became a stray,” Kalen said, sounding a little sad.
“Meow.” The calico cat Cinnamon licked one paw and washed its face a couple of times.
The other cats had nearly finished eating by now. They gradually gathered around Father Kalen’s feet, letting out low meows one after another.
Two more former pets shared their own experiences, though none were as bizarre as Cinnamon’s. They had simply fallen out of favor and then been secretly thrown out by their owners, with nobody dying in the process.
“I’d like to make a deal with you,” Father Kalen said after a moment’s thought. “If you notice any humans who die in strange ways, tell me immediately, and I’ll prepare milk and meat for you.”
“Meow?” “Meow…?”
“I’m excluding ordinary accidental deaths, deaths by illness, and deaths by old age. As for the rest… if you think it’s unusual, I’ll reward you.”
“Meow!”
The stray cats cheered. A few especially bold ones jumped onto Kalen’s lap, while the rest scraped their tongues over the plates, cleaning up every last flake of fish.
The calico cat Cinnamon began rubbing hard against Father Kalen again, mewing nonstop. Kalen listened for a while. “You think your master and mistress’s deaths were strange in another way too? …The decorations on them were unusual?”
“They all had grayish-yellow stones in the jewelry? Wait, we don’t perceive colors the same way. Can you describe it?”
“…You mean the same grayish-yellow as ‘human blood’.”
Cats could not properly distinguish red in the same way humans did.
Which meant those jewels were very likely set with dark red stones.
Crack.
Another odd sound came from the corner, interrupting Kalen’s thoughts. Father Kalen stood up and cautiously approached to investigate.
His hearing was excellent. He was certain he hadn’t misheard. Unfortunately, if only he had Mr. Salaar’s knack for sensing hostility. Kalen looked around in every direction yet still found nothing.
Wait, no. Had the fox specimen’s eyes always been that bright?
Kalen leaned closer to the fox and examined it carefully for quite some time. The specimen’s eyes were clear and cold, crafted from flawless smoky crystal, and there was nothing odd about them.
…Perhaps the night breeze had merely stirred something.
Kalen returned to the balcony and sat down once more in the moonlight, the bone ring on his left hand reflecting a dim luster.
Something had to be lurking in the shadows beneath this prosperous city. Merely “more stray cats” or “scattered strange deaths” would never provoke that level of ominousness.
And if Cinnamon’s instinct was right, what exactly were those dark red stones on the victims’ jewelry?
…Forget it. There were far too few clues right now. An investigation couldn’t be rushed.
The priest lowered his eyes in silence and gently stroked the calico cat on the table. The cat narrowed its eyes and purred contentedly.
……
“Stop touching me!” Myss hissed.
“This isn’t touching. I’m helping you fix your hair.”
Salaar’s fingers smoothed through Myss’s hair. “Your hair’s gotten messy, and a model’s styling is crucial.”
Not long ago, they had accepted Mr. Iver’s invitation.
But instead of taking them into the Red Amber, Iver had brought them to the VIP room of the Goldsand Market. It was luxuriously decorated, excellently soundproofed, and meant specifically for large-sum transactions.
Iver provided them with warm spiced wine and expensive chocolate pastries.
He had them rest for a while on the sofa, while he himself laid “The End of the World” flat on a long table and brought out an appraisal lens covered in magic circles.
After Salaar finished tidying Myss up, he popped a chocolate into the disgruntled Lord Archdemon’s mouth. While Myss’s attention was captured by the chocolate, Salaar finally had room to speak. “This is?”
“Ah, please don’t misunderstand. This is a necessary inspection.”
Iver smiled at him. “The market’s appraisers are highly professional, and your technical skill is beyond question. Personally, I’m extremely fond of this painting.”
“It’s simply that its allure is so astonishing that I must confirm whether any mental magic has been applied to it.”
“Who would adulterate a portrait of their beloved?” Salaar sighed in a manner that was quintessentially “Karns”.
“Do as you like. If it weren’t for the sake of the Red Amber…”
Meanwhile, as Salaar put on his performance, Lord Archdemon devoted himself to devouring the chocolate pastries on the table.
He really was a little hungry, and those little sweet things were surprisingly filling. As for all the messy talking, he could leave that to the Great Hero.
In truth, on the way here, Iver had already given them the basic explanation.
Behind the Goldsand Market stood the Red Amber Collection Hall. The Red Amber was devoted to discovering young talent and providing them with an ideal creative environment.
Once hired by the Red Amber, the pay and treatment would be no worse than in the capital. Even more enticing, being a “Red Amber artist” was no ordinary identity. If used properly, it could bring quite considerable wealth and fame.
Upon being hired, the Collection Hall would directly cover all their food, lodging, and daily needs. Inside the Hall were comfortable residential quarters and workspaces, with extremely thorough security measures.
“After all, when a creator dies, their works tend to appreciate significantly,” Iver had explained. “We simply don’t want certain lunatics taking risks and harming our employees.”
Myss had no interest in this supposed wealth and fame. The only thing he cared about was the Red Amber Collection Hall’s physical location.
At this point, it seemed highly likely that the man called “Flaw” was one of Red Amber’s employees.
Even so, up to now Myss had noticed nothing abnormal about the city, nor smelled the scent of an Abnormal Fruit. The only discovery he had made was that chocolate, in fact, was delicious.
“…The inspection is complete. There are no magical traces at all. Your skill and emotion are truly breathtaking.”
Who knew how much time had passed before Iver finally put away the appraisal lens. “I heard you are unwilling to sell this piece. In that case, would you allow us to keep it on loan for a while? On behalf of the Red Amber, I can offer a borrowing fee of one hundred gold rings per week.”
“As for safety, please rest assured. We will not allow so much as a speck of dust to fall upon it, and it will be returned to you in exactly the same condition.”
Thud. Myss froze mid-motion. The chocolate in his mouth nearly fell out, and even Salaar’s breathing stopped for a moment.
One hundred gold rings per week?
Myss dug a finger into his ear to make sure he had heard correctly.
He and Salaar had spent half a day in that damned church, exhausting themselves performing, only to get five gold rings in the end. And now a single painting, a painting of him, was worth more than his actual labor. What an absurd world this was.
Salaar: “I…”
Myss: “We accept—”
“—Not a chance!” Salaar pinched Myss in the waist. “My darling is only worth one hundred gold rings? What kind of joke is that?”
“I assume you know that I’m Kendrick Karns. A member of the Karns family doesn’t lack for a mere one hundred gold rings.”
Iver looked up and fixed his gaze on the two of them, one brow lifting slightly.
Objectively speaking, this “Gold Prospector” was extremely handsome, especially those eyes. When those moist champagne-gold eyes swept across someone, they could give the illusion of being in love.
Unfortunately, the destination of that gaze was two complete blockheads.
Salaar’s expression didn’t shift in the slightest; his face was openly spelling out you’ll have to pay more. Myss mechanically swallowed his pastry and began helping himself to the chocolate pastry on Salaar’s plate.
“You’re this eager to hire us, and willing to pay so much to borrow my painting. Let me guess, you want it for more than just an exhibition.”
Salaar said this with ruthless precision. “I heard the Red Amber has closed its doors to the public, yet its employees still have to report to work… You’re organizing some kind of event, aren’t you?”
Iver let out a long breath, his smile deepening a little.
“Heavens, you are much sharper than rumor suggests, Mr. Karns.”
Though the words were mildly insulting, the way he said them felt almost intimate. “Yes. We’ve been extremely busy lately, so busy that we had no choice but to close the Hall to visitors.”
“We are preparing a special exhibition, and your work fits its theme perfectly: ‘Perfect Love’.”
Myss spat out the pastry in his mouth, and even Fork in his pocket went rigid and made a strange noise.
…Perfect love? Perfect love?! Who, him and Salaar???
Perfect hatred would be more like it. Was something wrong with Iver’s eyes?
“Wha—”
Even Salaar was having trouble enduring this. When he opened his mouth again, he bit his tongue, and only after several seconds did he recover enough composure to speak. “What a truly… … … … … … …extraordinary coincidence.”
“However…”
Iver pivoted beautifully. “The emotion in The End of the World is intense, yes, but too complex. That love is mixed with rather too many imperfections. If possible, I would like you to paint a new work specifically for us.”
“We will give you a price that satisfies you, and we will hire your beloved as well, paying him the rate of a top model. Of course, depending on the situation, that amount can be doubled.”
“As for “The End of the World”, we can raise the loan fee to two hundred gold rings per week. What do you think?”
Salaar and Myss fell silent at the same time.
What did he mean, that love is mixed with rather too many imperfections? If one really had to put it into words, their relationship consisted entirely of flaws, with about as much love in it as Salaar’s ruby brooch contained actual ruby.
…But Iver was offering an awful lot.
Besides, they had already intended to infiltrate the Red Amber, and refusing too hard wouldn’t be ideal.
“Can you do it?” “Can you do it?”
The two of them practically whispered the questions into each other’s ears at the same time. For the first time in their lives, they reached a consensus this quickly.
“’The End of the World’ can be lent to you.”
Salaar spoke as arrogantly as he could manage. “However, my creative process requires inspiration, and I will not accept anyone rushing me. And my darling and I have only just arrived in Semper. We haven’t had our fill of enjoying ourselves yet, so you will need to provide spending money and security.”
“As for payment for the second painting, we can discuss that after we’ve had our fun.”
Iver agreed with remarkable ease and took out two exquisitely made badges from his pocket.
The badges were crafted from platinum, shaped into delicate spirals that perfectly reproduced the golden ratio. At the center of each spiral were set three perfectly round gemstones.
A vivid sapphire, a transparent yellow crystal, and a rounded blood amber.
The blood amber had been polished beautifully, displaying a mesmerizingly deep crimson hue. The magical fluctuation from it was astonishing enough that Myss narrowed his eyes instinctively.
“These are the Red Amber employee badges.”
Iver said, “They are imbued with extremely powerful life magic and can perfectly block one fatal attack, even poisoning.”
“Oh? That’s a magical artifact of Royal Security caliber. You’re giving them to us without even signing a contract first?” Salaar raised a brow.
“Your work is worth that much.” Iver smiled. “And if you are willing to forgive my initial error in pricing, so much the better.”
Myss casually pinned his badge to the inside of his ranger jacket. It looked very possible that Salaar was being watched by people from the Karns family, and Myss had no objection to another layer of protection.
Seeing Myss pin his on without hesitation, Salaar picked up his own badge and reflexively moved to pin it to his chest.
Then he realized that the place was already occupied by the “ruby” brooch Myss had given him.
His movement paused briefly. Then he pulled open his collar and fastened the badge lower down beneath his coat.
That ruby brooch remained pinned over his chest, the teardrop-shaped glass swaying lightly.
He knew that such restraint wasn’t very much like “Kendrick Karns.” Still, a tiny inconsistency shouldn’t matter too much.
After all, sweet love can completely change a person.
“So then, what are your arrangements for tonight?” Iver asked warmly. “If you wish to stay at the Red Amber, I can arrange everything at once.”
“No need.” Salaar touched the incredibly powerful badge. “We have somewhere to stay tonight. I imagine Mr. Anti will understand my ‘fickleness’.”
“Of course. Your pleasure takes precedence,” Iver said readily.
“Exactly. I believe we shall find our collaboration quite agreeable.”
Salaar draped an arm around Myss’s waist and took the opportunity to pull him back slightly, thereby saving the last chocolate pastry on the plate.
…Now that they had obtained the protective magic artifact, this was the perfect chance to see what exactly Mr. “Anti” was truly plotting.
The author has something to say:
In this city, Father’s little helpers aren’t crows—they’re cats. And yes, cats are color-blind*… [calico cat head]
*Not quite color blind but they have dichromatic vision, similar to red-green color blindness, so they perceive shades of blue, yellow, and grey, while struggling to distinguish red and green.
Summary of this chapter: Mr. Iver has paid heavily to commission Hero × Demon ship art.
(Just kidding.)
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