PSW Chapter 13: Beware of Bastet Yofar said: You will choose.
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Yofar said: You will choose.
...Me? Hearing this, Bastet was even more shocked than Nephthys. Every strand of fur on his body bristled—except for those in his most sensitive area.
Had Bastet ever played matchmaker before?
Of course.
Who, in their youth, hadn’t helped pass notes for lovestruck classmates separated by seating arrangements—those who gazed at each other longingly across the classroom, sending silent messages during lessons?
Passing a note from the first row to the last? That was nothing more than a few taps on a chair, a subtle signal here and there.
Especially during Bastet’s high school and university days, when he had the honor of sitting next to the school’s legendary figure—someone handsome, wealthy, and impossibly charming. Forget just one classroom’s worth of girls—his desk was flooded with love letters every single day!
But had Bastet ever successfully matched a couple?
The answer—was never! Not even once!
Bastet didn’t know if he had been cursed, but without fail, any couple who passed notes through him would inevitably break up within three days!
If he thought two people were a perfect match, then without a doubt, one of them would soon be exposed for having a complicated romantic history, or they’d suffer a week of relentless bad luck.
And this wasn’t just a high probability—it was a 100% guarantee!
One hundred percent… Bastet sniffled: Why can’t I have this kind of luck when drawing gacha cards?
The rate of disaster was so catastrophically high, the consequences so merciless, that back in school, even the teachers started joking about it. Couples actively avoided him, their faces filled with fear, hurriedly changing routes if they saw him approaching.
In high school, the teachers didn’t even have to patrol the school’s hidden corners to catch couples dating in secret. They just needed to put up a sign that said:
"BEWARE: BASTET SIGHTING IN THIS AREA."
And within a fifty-meter radius, not a single couple would remain.
Because of this, during those school years, everyone respectfully gave him a title:
THE LOVE! EXECUTIONER!
Bastet: "..." My fragile little heart just cracked into pieces…
Bastet’s disastrous matchmaking history was so legendary that even now—having gone from he to it, from human to cat—the very thought of it still filled him with dread.
His emerald-green eyes widened in panic as he turned to High Priestess Nephthys, wagging his tail desperately in silent protest.
"Meow~"
—Surely, as the High Priestess, you won’t allow such a ridiculous thing to happen… right?
To his horror, after a moment of silence, Nephthys actually nodded in agreement.
“Cats have always possessed prophetic abilities,” she said. “Historically, this wouldn’t be unprecedented.” Besides, the King had finally relented after all these years—whether she agreed or not was irrelevant!
Bastet’s hopes crumbled. No, no, no—don’t make me choose! I’m the Love Executioner!
He tried to escape, but Yofar—who had clearly anticipated this—only smiled even more charmingly, holding onto Bastet’s tiny front paws.
“Why so unhappy, hmm? Are you jealous?” he teased.
…Jealous, my tail! If it weren’t for the fact that a stepmother meant a stepfather—and a stepfather might mean no more fish treats—then… cough Never mind that for now.
Bastet sighed, freeing one paw. With the other, he stretched out his soft paw pad and pressed it against Yofar’s pinky, struggling to curl his tiny claws into a pinky promise gesture.
The little black kitten, still slightly fluffy with remnants of baby fur, tilted his head and looked up at his deranged master with round, guilty green eyes.
"Meow."
—We have an agreement, okay?
Yofar: “?”
"Meow."
—You’re the one making me choose. So if your wife ever cheats on you or your bedroom life is a disaster—it’s not my fault!
Yofar: “???”
The great Pharaoh of Egypt froze, his charming smirk stiffening.
Bastet, oblivious, thought Yofar hadn’t understood. He let out a relieved sigh and quickly hooked his tiny paw around Yofar’s finger, shaking it three times.
Pinky promise—sealed for a hundred years—no take-backs.
Now that he’d given himself some psychological reassurance, Bastet finally relaxed, stepping around in his cat bed to settle down for another nap.
Nephthys, watching Yofar’s now rigid expression and the utterly unaware little black cat, shook her head internally.
“Your Majesty.”
Both Yofar and Bastet turned toward her. Nephthys respectfully bowed with her staff in hand.
“There will undoubtedly be ripples from today’s events in the Council Hall. We must assign people to monitor the situation. I shall take my leave now.” She then glanced at Bastet. “This little one likely needs feeding. I will have the attendants take care of it.”
Yofar glanced down at Bastet. Bastet stared back, blinking.
Just as Bastet thought that his cat-loving master would let him stay—
He was suddenly grabbed by the scruff and tossed straight at Nephthys.
"MEOW—!" WHAT THE HELL?!
Caught off guard, Bastet flailed midair, paws splaying in panic—before smack—he crashed right into Nephthys’ soft chest.
The instant he felt the plushness beneath him, Bastet hurriedly retracted his claws in alarm.
After all, getting scratched by a cat hurt. No matter how powerful Nephthys was, she was still a woman, and in Bastet’s mind, that meant he had to be careful.
Nephthys, sensing the little black cat's sudden hesitation, raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.
She reached up and gently patted Bastet’s fluffed-out fur, soothing his startled nerves.
At barely six months old, Bastet still had slightly long, baby-soft fur. Now that his panicked bristling had settled, she could feel just how small he truly was. He was so tiny that with a slight squeeze, she could probably cup his entire body in one hand.
His warm body, soft fur, and delicate frame made him incredibly pleasant to hold.
“Such a clever, adorable little thing…” Nephthys murmured, a fleeting warmth passing through her wise gaze.
With Bastet still nestled against her, she gave Yofar another respectful bow before turning to leave the vast palace hall.
Meanwhile, Bastet, suddenly embraced by a young woman, felt a bit… embarrassed. His ears twitched as he blinked, resting his chin on her shoulder.
Behind them, Yofar had already gone back to his never-ending pile of official documents, not sparing Bastet a second glance.
Bastet: …For some reason, I feel a little bit annoyed. Hmph! It must be because that jerk threw me too hard!
The palace doors opened and closed again.
The sound of retreating footsteps faded as Bastet snapped back to reality. He realized that Nephthys hadn’t handed him over to the waiting elderly court lady, Alina. Instead, she carried him past white stone columns, taking several turns through the palace corridors.
Curious, Bastet peered out from her arms, observing their surroundings. Only when they were well out of sight of the royal guards did Nephthys finally set him down. With graceful movements, she lifted her skirt slightly and knelt before him.
“Bastet.”
Her ever-present smile remained unchanged, warm and unwavering.
Bastet recognized the name immediately—it was what many cat gods were called in Egypt. He tilted his head up at her and let out a soft meow.
“The King cherishes you deeply, Bastet,” she said. “You are the first cat he has ever truly brought home, and you are also the chosen cat god.”
Her voice was gentle, her dignified beauty and wisdom making her seem like a nurturing elder. “I hope that in the future, you will remain just as loyal, always by His Majesty’s side.”
"…Meow." You’re all so strange, Bastet thought blankly. Why do you all insist on talking so much to a cat?
What could a cat possibly do?
From the moment he found himself in this small feline body, capable of nothing more than meowing, Bastet had already set his life’s path.
He was a cat. He could not do the things humans did—he had no nimble fingers or toes, only paws that couldn’t even count beyond five.
He had no grand ambitions like the protagonists in comic books, nor did he dream of helping the Pharaoh conquer Egypt like some overpowered hero in a time-travel novel.
Aside from the somewhat impressive title of Pharaoh’s Pet, he had nothing else.
And that was fine.
Bastet was never one to dwell on sorrow. He was, in fact, a rather resilient person.
A sudden twist of fate had torn him away from his parents forever, thrusting him into an ancient land, in a distant era, as nothing more than a cat.
And so, he would simply do what a cat does best—
Lounge on sun-warmed stone slabs, stretch out lazily, open his sharp-toothed mouth for a long, slow yawn, and bask in the golden heat until he melted into a perfect little cat puddle.
On dark nights, he would crouch in some lonely corner of the palace, pretending to stalk mice—even though he could never actually catch them.
He would feast on delicious dried fish, get pampered by passing noble ladies who scratched his chin and stroked his back, feeling so blissful he could practically die from happiness.
And then, when he had lived for more than ten years and his time finally came, he would sit alone beneath the night sky, gazing at the moon for a long, long time—thinking about his parents, his friends, and reminiscing about his carefree life as he waited for that final moment to arrive…
I have accepted my fate. I have already envisioned my entire life.
Bastet had thought it through, so he let go of everything. He would do whatever he wanted, meow however he pleased. When he was human, he had to bear all kinds of labels, too afraid to break the mold. But now, as a beast, he could be truly free!
Freedom—how wonderful.
Bastet struggled to tilt his head up and gaze at the woman before him. In his world, humans were such massive beings.
"Meow~" What’s the point of telling me all this? I don’t want anything, and I don’t plan on doing anything.
Use his cat body to assist the Pharaoh, perform countless miracles, leave the world in awe, and have people exclaim, "That’s not something a cat should be able to do!" before going down in history?
Sorry, but I’m just a crazy little cat, not some almighty feline protagonist. In those face-slapping, power-up stories, a minor character like me is the one getting slapped.
The tiny black kitten sat lightly on the ground, curling his tail around himself like a neat little ball of fluff. His long whiskers twitched, and his small mouth curved into a cheeky smile.
"Meow~" he called out lazily.
—Besides, Yofar doesn’t even like me that much. Did you see the way he threw me? He tossed me like a shot put—uh, do you even know what a shot put is? It’s—never mind, you wouldn’t understand anyway.
Bastet tapped his tail rhythmically, stood up, and was about to leave when Nephthys suddenly furrowed her brows in confusion.
“Why do you think we can’t understand you?” she asked. “His Majesty was upset precisely because he did hear your words.”
“……”
The tiny ball of black fur froze, his bright green cat eyes widening in shock. He stared at the high priestess in disbelief.
"Meow?" You can understand me?!
Nephthys nodded. “Of course. While we can’t translate every word, we can understand about seventy to eighty percent. Why? You didn’t know? ‘Divine Oracle’ is an ability granted by the gods to their incarnations—animals like you.”
Bastet: “……” I really didn’t know…
Wait. Does that mean gods actually exist in this world? Is divine incarnation of Egyptian animal deities real?!
Holy—
This felt like a wise old Daoist master from a fantasy movie, surrounded by demons and spirits, suddenly pulling out a machine gun and mowing them down.
It completely shattered Bastet’s scientific worldview!
“All sacred animals chosen by the gods have this ability,” Nephthys continued. “Some are very weak and can only express ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ but you… You can convey full words and sentences. That’s extremely rare in Egypt.”
She didn’t understand why Bastet was so confused. Since his level of ‘Divine Oracle’ was so exceptionally clear, no one had ever questioned it before. To her, it was simply another divine gift.
So she just added, “Bastet, I told you all this because you are truly unique. My instincts tell me that, in the future, you will hold great significance in the Pharaoh’s heart… And my instincts have never been wrong. That’s part of my ability as the high priestess.”
Once upon a time, Nephthys had placed all her bets on Yofar—when he was still an insignificant prince. It was thanks to this innate, god-given talent passed down through generations in her family that she had risen to her current position.
“The hour is late,” she said, glancing up at the sky. Rising to her feet, she offered one last piece of advice. “A final warning, Bastet: given your gift of Divine Oracle, be careful never to mention His Majesty’s past in front of him.”
With that, Nephthys turned and left, her graceful figure vanishing down the palace halls, leaving behind a thoroughly stunned little black kitten.
Bastet had just discovered that the cat body he had transmigrated into possessed an ability straight out of a fantasy novel—his mind was in utter chaos.
A tiny ball of black fluff sat in the dry Egyptian breeze, completely bewildered.
Bastet: I used to think Egyptians were amazing for being able to understand animals. Now I realize… The ones who are truly amazing aren’t the people—it’s the cats!
His thoughts were as tangled as a traveler who had bought a ticket to a scientifically advanced civilization, only to arrive and find that ‘science’ had been replaced with magic!
Bastet clutched his metaphorical ticket, his fur standing on end.
Uh…
Mister Ticket Seller, is there a refund option…?
T/N: Please give support on my ko-fi page, thank you🍊🍊🍊
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