PSW Chapter 15: No One Is Allowed to Bully My Pooper-Scooper!
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Bastet had originally thought that being crowned the Cat God would be a complicated matter, surely requiring some kind of ceremony.
But it turned out to be nothing of the sort. "Cat God" was merely a position, with a new one appointed every month at the Temple of the Gods. Just like the other priests working in the temple, one only needed to pass the selection assessment.
The only difference was that the Pharaoh would verbally announce the new Cat God's designated temple in the council hall. A minister in charge of such matters would record it and then order the creation of the Cat God's "business license" and official attire.
The so-called business license was a small, square gold plaque the size of a biscuit, engraved with patterns and the name of the Cat God’s temple. This was prepared as soon as the cat passed the selection.
As for the attire, it consisted of a pair of golden earrings, a nose ring, and a fine gold cord to fasten the "business license" around the Cat God's neck.
Once the new Cat God arrived at its assigned temple, the temple’s clergy would hold a small ceremony, completing the process.
The appointment of a new Cat God did not stir the ministers, who had just been reprimanded by Yofar the previous day.
Surprised by how simple the process was, Bastet relaxed in Alina’s arms, waiting for Yofar to give him an occasional magical petting from a distance.
But after waiting for half a day, Joffar made no such move.
How strange... Bastet didn’t dwell on it too much and sat down, tilting his head while scratching his neck with a hind paw.
Seated coldly on his magnificent throne, Yofar announced that a cat would be the one to choose his queen.
The moment Bastet heard this, he stopped scratching and sat up properly, ready to watch the show. Such a ridiculous idea—surely the ministers who weren’t on good terms with Yofar would seize this opportunity to make a fuss!
To his surprise, the ministers—who had been quite vocal the day before—merely hesitated for a moment before following Nephthys' lead and expressing their agreement. Some even seemed visibly pleased.
"I approve! Cats are the incarnations of the Moon Goddess Bastet and possess prophetic abilities. Having the Moon Goddess’ envoy choose is an excellent idea!"
"I agree as well! The great King Merenito's queen, Yana, was also chosen by the Apis bull."
"Both princesses possess the proper lineage and noble character. A divine selection would indeed be fair..."
"Praise be to the wisdom of our great king..."
"..."
The ministers were ecstatic—as if they were the ones getting married.
Bastet twitched the corners of his mouth, completely baffled. How did these old men suddenly become Yofar’s fanboys overnight?
Ministers: What do you know? The fact that the king is even willing to take a wife is already a blessing!
Besides, if the king had an heir, that meant the Egyptian royal family would have a successor. In the unfortunate event that Pharaoh Yofar met with some misfortune, they could conveniently serve as regents for the young prince. And when that time came...
Cough cough Even if the current king remained young and strong, fate was unpredictable... They certainly wouldn’t mind lending a hand in such circumstances.
A few of the older ministers grinned so widely their faces were covered in wrinkles, continuously showering Yofar with praises. Meanwhile, Yofar sat coldly on the throne, as if oblivious to their scheming.
Only Nephthys, gripping her staff with a dignified and graceful expression, allowed a brief smirk to cross her lips.
Hyenas… she sneered inwardly.
Relying on their numbers to fight over scraps from a lion’s kill, and in the end, eagerly anticipating the lion’s death—hoping for an extra share to fill their insatiable bellies...
And now, they didn’t even bother hiding their joy in front of the king, as if the "brutal and useless" ruler they once despised wouldn’t notice they were waiting for his demise!
Bastet, who had no experience with political scheming, failed to grasp the deeper meaning behind the ministers' reactions. However, he did notice that Yofar showed no trace of joy on his face. Beneath his golden-feathered lashes, his ice-blue eyes remained as cold as frozen glaciers, impossible to melt.
It was as if he was looking at the ministers, yet at the same time, as if he wasn’t—giving off an empty, unfocused gaze.
The contrast was stark: atop the throne, the air was icy and biting; below it, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement. Cold above, heat below—an extreme juxtaposition.
With Hesse punished and sent to the temple, only Nephthys now stood behind Joffar. Compared to the ministers gathered below, he appeared particularly solitary.
As Bastet watched, an unfamiliar discomfort suddenly welled up in her chest.
Hmm… How should he put it?
It felt as if the man on the throne was being completely isolated by everyone.
Strange. He was the king, after all.
The little black furball stared at the man’s cold, alabaster-pale profile, as if seen through a filter, and carefully observed the rigid, sculpture-like expression on his face.
One second, two seconds, three seconds—
Suddenly, the small black cat leaped down from Alina’s lap, where she had been kneeling on the ground.
Alina panicked and quickly reached out to grab her, afraid she would run off.
But the little black cat didn’t go anywhere. She landed on the floor, gave a lazy shake to fluff up her slightly flattened fur, then raised her tail high and arched her back.
Standing tall, he stretched out her four limbs and unsheathed a row of tiny, sharp claws—swish, swish, swish—before letting out an exaggeratedly long stretch.
Alina sighed in relief when she saw the cat’s relaxed demeanor and that she wasn’t running around. Still, she kept her hands poised, ready to snatch her back at any moment.
But as soon as the stretch was over, the lazy, carefree little black cat was gone.
His glossy black face lost its usual playful, roguish air, and his delicate, narrow features sharpened. His luminous green eyes gleamed with an eerie, inorganic light.
Because of his breed, he now looked eerily similar to the ominous, emotionless spirit cats often seen in horror films.
Unlucky. Mysterious.
I understand now. Bastet’s expression remained blank as he swept his gaze across the scene both on and below the throne. He spoke to herself inwardly: I don’t understand the political maneuvering between the ministers and the king. I don’t know what this atmosphere means.
But I get it—Fluffhead isn’t happy.
*
Alina had only relaxed her guard for a moment, and in that instant, the lazy black kitten suddenly shot forward like a shadow!
Alina let out a short, startled cry, reaching out to grab him, but she was too slow. Her fingertips merely brushed against the silky smoothness of black fur before she lost her balance and tumbled to the ground in her effort.
Her voice wasn’t loud enough to overpower the ministers’ heated discussion. Only Yofar and Nephthys, who were closest, heard her. Both of them frowned and turned their heads toward the commotion.
A blur of black completely filled Yofar’s vision.
In his slightly widened pupils, the familiar small black cat leaped onto the desk in front of his throne—the one used for placing ministers’ reports.
There, he sat properly and primly.
Like a tiny lump of black coal.
A lump of black coal with two round, grape-like eyes.
“…………”
Nephthys was momentarily stunned by the unexpected turn of events. Yofar also frowned, while the ministers, finally noticing the small creature on the king’s desk, angrily pointed and shouted:
“What’s going on? Where are the attendants? Get it down immediately!”
“Damn it, why wasn’t it watched properly? What if it harms the king?!”
“Is no one listening? Hurry up!”
“To think it was just appointed as the new Cat God, only to make a fool of itself right away…”
Nephthys felt a twinge of displeasure and disappointment. What’s wrong with this little one? I reminded it just yesterday—could it be that it’s not as intelligent as she thought?
“Alina, take it down,” Nephthys ordered in a low, firm voice. The flustered old court lady immediately stepped forward.
“Bastet, get down now!”
“Meow~” Bastet leisurely licked his paw.
As Alina, Nephthys, the royal guards, and even a few of the generals among the ministers prepared to drive the little black cat away from the king’s desk, the man on the throne reached out his hand.
It was as if someone had pressed the pause button.
Alina, who had been panicking. Nephthys, who had been disappointed. The loyal guards. The furious ministers.
The chaotic noise below the throne came to a sudden halt. The ministers who had been rejoicing just moments ago now wore faces twisted with anger, their attention wholly focused on the black cat.
The contrasting warmth and cold of the scene was completely shattered.
With no one left to bask in their joy, the handsome king smiled.
Yoffar was not angry. In fact, the cold mask he always wore seemed to melt away as he gazed at the little black furball sitting atop a thick stack of reports, lazily grooming himself.
“Bastet.”
The deep, magnetic voice of the king called out as he extended a single finger, pressing it lightly against the little black cat’s nose.
Emerald-green feline eyes met icy-blue human ones.
Bastet finished licking her paw and let out a lazy “Meow~,” as if to say, What do you want, fluffhead?
Nephthys, who could understand divine messages due to the Cat God’s abilities: “…”
And the ministers: “…” They didn’t know what "Fluffhead" meant, but they were certain it wasn’t respectful!
The ministers and everyone else turned pale, expecting the king to fly into a rage and order the cat’s immediate execution.
But time passed, and the esteemed ruler of Egypt showed no signs of anger.
Instead, his brows lifted slightly, the corners of his lips curved downward in a faint smile. His platinum-blond hair shimmered as if kissed by sunlight.
Then, before everyone’s stunned eyes, the ice in the king’s gaze melted away. The frigid glaciers transformed into an endless, tranquil sea. His breathtaking face bloomed into a warm, radiant smile—one as brilliant as the sun god Ra himself.
Yofar flicked the little black furball’s cold, damp nose with his finger. There was even a trace of indulgence in his expression as he said:
“As expected, you truly know how to please me.”
“……”
“……”
The ministers fell into stunned silence. …Impossible. The tyrant king? Smiling like this? We must be blind. Yes, blind—completely blind…
Meanwhile, the tiny black lump that was Bastet sniffed the finger in front of him.
Please you? Hmph, it’s obviously me protecting you!
With a proud expression, the haughty feline licked his overly affectionate owner’s hand.
Rustle—
One lick and that’s it! No more!
Yofar chuckled softly, rubbing his fingers together.
The sensation was fleeting, yet incredibly gentle…
____
Author’s Note: 【Mini Theater】
Lord Meow causing trouble: I don’t know why you’re all laughing, but if you laugh, that weirdo master gets unhappy. So no more laughing! This fluffball belongs to me! Anyone who bullies my weak little poop-scooper is a bad person!
Ministers, fuming: Your Majesty, look at it!
Yoffar (the weak little poop-scooper) smiling while hiding a knife behind his back: Mm, Bastet is right.
Ministers: "…" Ptui! Shameless! We’re the real victims here!"
T/N: Please give support on my ko-fi page, thank you🍊🍊🍊
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