PSW Chapter 14: You Must Learn to Obey The Pharaoh’s Bedchamber.
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The night Bastet discovered that gods actually existed in this world, he couldn’t sleep.
He spent the whole night rethinking everything about this world with the new premise that Ancient Egypt actually had gods.
If the Sun God, Horus, Anubis, the God of the Underworld, and all the others truly existed—then what about Pharaoh Yofar, the so-called son of the gods? Did he also have some ridiculously overpowered ability?
After all, even Nephthys had mentioned that she possessed an extraordinary intuition.
Before Bastet was reborn, the world he came from had already reached the level of an advanced civilization, where cutting-edge science was practically indistinguishable from divine miracles.
Humanity had focused entirely on advancing science, and education systems were largely centered around scientific disciplines. As science flourished, theology and other spiritual beliefs had declined significantly.
More importantly, there had been a massive global catastrophe that nearly wiped out humanity. Because of that, much of the historical record from before the disaster had been lost.
In school, history teachers only taught events that had occurred after the disaster.
As a minor researcher for the Time Bureau, Bastet barely knew anything about Ancient Egypt. He was aware that the Egyptians had a deep reverence for their gods, that their beliefs were incredibly diverse, and that royal families were known for their close-kin marriages. Beyond that, his knowledge was practically nonexistent.
Bastet didn't even know the dynasties of ancient Egypt, let alone the names of its pharaohs.
It wasn't that he refused to learn—there simply wasn't anywhere for him to learn from.
Which was exactly why he was completely caught off guard after being thrown into this world and hit in the face with real, actual miracles.
Sigh.
This world had suddenly turned into a fantasy novel.
Lying beneath the bed of the Pharaoh—the son of the Egyptian gods—Bastet rolled over on the soft cushion, exposing his pitch-black belly. Against the dark fur, the faintly visible pale skin of his underside and his useless little bean-sized nipples stood out.
The tiny black lump hugged his own tail and pondered:
"Hey, do you think that as a time traveler forcefully stuffed into this body by a futuristic AI, the Egyptian gods will notice that I’ve hijacked one of their sacred cat bodies? And then strike me down with divine lightning so hard that my remains will be impossible to scrape off the floor?"
His tail didn’t respond.
"Or maybe I’m actually some kind of chosen savior? What if the gods planned for me to come to Egypt, and tomorrow during the Cat God's coronation, they give me the ability to speak human language and assign me some great divine mission?"
His tail still didn’t respond.
"Hey, why aren’t you answering? Are you asleep?"
The little black creature, whose entire body was darker than the shadows, had only two gleaming green eyes visible in the dim light. Lying on the cushion, he looked like a lump of charcoal with two glowing grapes stuck on top.
When his tail ignored him, the tiny black monster got angry. The dark, indistinguishable blob of his head and body suddenly split open into a tiny, fierce mouth. Hugging his tail tightly, he began attacking it—biting, kicking, and hissing in frustration.
His little tail twitched in pain and retaliated, flicking against his face. The black lump immediately used his front paws to snatch it back and launched another round of relentless assault!
"Myaaoww! Myaaoww—!"
A perfect demonstration of why all cats are insane and why a cat’s tail and its body are two completely separate creatures.
Just as Bastet was in the middle of this epic self-battle, suddenly—
SMACK!
The edge of the bed was slammed.
Bastet yowled in terror, fur puffing up from the tips of his ears to the tip of his tail. His two green "grapes" widened in panic as he stared at the source of the noise.
On the grand royal bed, a man who had been rudely awakened slowly sat up.
With platinum blond hair cascading over his shoulders and cold, pale skin, Pharaoh Yofar was breathtakingly handsome—but at this moment, his darkened expression was downright terrifying.
"As far as I know," Yofar murmured, lips curving into a dangerously slow smirk, "you are still a cat who hasn’t reached maturity."
His voice was soft, but each word carried an unmistakable threat.
"So be quiet, obey, and sleep. Do you understand, Bastet?"
Holy shit.
He’s pissed.
Once again, that suffocating, overwhelming killing intent flooded the room—like a tide of inky black water, so thick and oppressive that it felt like a monstrous beast was lurking in the darkness, ready to pounce at any moment.
Understood! Understood!! Bastet swallowed hard and nodded furiously. I’ll be quiet! You can sleep! Sleep well!
"Hmph."
Yofar let out a cold chuckle—one that sent an icy chill down Bastet’s spine—before lying back down.
The royal attendants, who had been silently standing in the background, saw that the Pharaoh had not called for them and lowered their gazes once more. They blended seamlessly into the stillness of the room, like beautiful, decorative vases.
The candlelight flickered.
Everything in the palace fell into slumber along with Yofar.
After being scolded, Bastet drooped his pointed ears and, feeling utterly deflated, took one last bite of his tail before curling up in his nest, drowning in worries about the future.
It wasn’t until around five in the morning that he finally fell asleep—right when the Pharaoh needed to wake up for work.
For the past few days, wherever Yofar went, he had the maids carry Bastet along. So after barely five or six minutes of sleep, Bastet was rudely awakened by the sounds of the maids bustling about, attending to Yofar’s morning routine of washing and dressing.
As the Pharaoh’s beloved pet, Bastet enjoyed the highest level of care.
The elderly court lady, Alina, gently wiped his furry little face and the corners of his eyes with a damp cloth, while another young maid skillfully combed his fur.
During meals, Bastet was granted the same special privilege as the queen: he was placed on a small child-sized table right beside Yofar’s, enjoying breakfast at the same level as the Pharaoh himself.
Yawning endlessly, Bastet sat lazily on his tiny table, peering into the milk bowl and catching sight of his own reflection.
Tsk tsk.
Look at these dark circles under my eyes from staying up all night. Sigh.
They’ve spread all over my body.
Bastet had no appetite. When Yofar reached out, intending to pet him from across the table, Bastet didn’t even bother to pretend to be enthusiastic. Instead, he simply flopped onto his little table and played dead.
Yofar’s hovering hand froze midair. His ice-blue eyes shifted to the tiny black lump, and his expression darkened.
Around him, the maids—who had been trying to draw the Pharaoh’s attention with their painted faces, youthful beauty, and curvaceous figures—immediately lowered their heads, falling into silent terror at the sight.
The air, once filled with the rich aroma of breakfast, grew frigid under Yofar’s chilling anger.
He stared at the small kitten, the one who had evoked an unusual fondness in him. Something flickered deep in his eyes, like the piercing focus of a predator before delivering a lethal strike...
And Bastet, on the verge of dozing off, was completely oblivious.
To him, Yofar wore a good person label. He had never considered this man—who secretly fed stray cats at night, who was so unnervingly beautiful that merely looking at him felt like a filter had been applied over reality—as a dangerous figure.
Calling him a perverted master was merely because Yofar had the audacity to flirt with a cat.
Bastet had overheard the harem maids whispering before—cryptic comments about how the Pharaoh was ruthless, unpredictable, a man who killed without hesitation. And it was true that the harem maids had been executed under his orders.
But Nephthys had reported to Yofar that those maids had been hiding multiple female assassins from Lower Egypt.
Bastet had no right to judge. As a cat, there was no stance he could take on matters of morality.
And from his feline perspective, he had only ever seen Yofar’s slightly gentle side. So Bastet had never once been wary of him.
…
The predator moved.
The cold, pale hand, still suspended in midair, slowly approached the unsuspecting, curled-up little black cat’s nape.
It was experienced and ruthless.
Every predator was a perfect killer—it would approach silently, slowly closing in before seizing the prey’s vulnerable throat and crushing it in one brutal bite.
The prey wouldn’t even feel pain. Its life would simply end.
Standing nearby, the elderly court lady, Alina, furrowed her brows with a trace of hesitation. Just as she was about to speak, Bastet, who had been lying sprawled on the small table, found the surface too hard and lazily flipped over.
His damp, cold little nose bumped directly into the tip of the man’s outstretched finger.
Pfft—
“Meow!” What do you think you’re doing?!
Bastet’s nose tingled from the unexpected contact. On instinct, he stuck out his small, barbed crimson tongue and licked both his nose and the man’s fingertip.
Sha, sha—
Because of the tiny barbs on a cat’s tongue, licking human skin always produced a subtle rasping sound.
“……”
Yofar, his gaze lowered, fell silent for a moment. His fingers curled slightly as he rubbed them together.
A maid, quick to respond, knelt by his feet with a damp cloth, ready to wipe his hand. But Yofar dismissed her with a mere glance.
Only after he had carefully rubbed away the lingering warmth and softness did he regain his usual lazy, indifferent expression and turn back to his meal.
The beast that had bared its fangs was gone.
Bastet’s nose still stung. He turned his head and rolled his green eyes at the man’s profile. Tch. What was that? A sneak attack?!
After breakfast, Yofar rinsed his mouth and stood up, heading for the council hall. Alina carried Bastet in her arms, following behind him along with a procession of maids, guards, and attendants.
Snuggling into Alina’s embrace, which felt as warm as a mother’s, Bastet prepared to doze off. But then, he suddenly heard her voice, so soft that only he could catch it.
She said, “Do not disobey the King.”
“Meow?” What? Bastet tilted his head up at her.
Alina sighed, her gaze filled with helplessness as she looked down at him. “No one dares to defy the King’s orders. Today, you came very close to dying. Remember, you are the King’s pet. You belong to him. You must obey. Do you understand, Bastet, little one blessed with good fortune?”
“Meow?”
What order? Yofar didn’t say anything to me.
Bastet was completely confused. His bright green eyes blinked in puzzlement, but Alina said no more. She simply stroked the fur on his back before falling into step with the rest of the silent procession.
[Author’s Note: 【A Small Reminder】
In ancient Egypt, the King’s authority was absolute.
As a modern person, Bastet often forgets this.
Yofar really intended to strangle him today.
After all, for rulers in ancient times, killing whoever they pleased required no justification.
I might post a second update today. I’ll see if I can manage it.]
T/N: Please give support on my ko-fi page, thank you🍊🍊🍊
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