PSW Chapter 16: It’s as Black as a Rift in Space

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ANNOUNCEMENT 

Advance chapters will be on my ko-fi page, please visit for support

• Chapter 1-10
• Chapter 11-20
• Chapter 21-30
• Chapter 31-40

T/N: I'm not sure if someone is reading this novel or not. If not then I dont know if I'll still continue translating this book....

Because of its mischievous antics—jumping onto the table and disrupting the order of the royal council chamber—Bastet was punished.

Several ministers pulled long faces, their eyebrows raised high, demanding severe punishment for the insolent little black creature, citing the new cat god’s utter lack of decorum and foolish behavior.

Yofar agreed.

As he lowered his eyes, casually teasing Bastet with his fingers—so much so that Bastet couldn’t resist pouncing at them—he responded in an indifferent tone, without even looking up:

“Fine, then let’s confiscate all of Bastet’s possessions.”

(Bastet’s entire fortune: one cat bed and half a dried fish it hid under the cushion yesterday.)

Ministers: “……”

Their faces darkened, veins bulging from their temples. Did he seriously just say “all possessions” as if a cat even had any worth mentioning?!

Tch!

Was he blatantly making fools of them?!

“Your Majesty, please be serious in your punishment!” The rigid old minister, clearly displeased, pressed on with a grim face.

Yofar, still teasing Bastet, remained unfazed. “If you think confiscating all possessions isn’t severe enough, then in the future, whenever any of you commit mistakes, we’ll use this method to handle it as well.”

The ministers choked: “……” How can we be treated the same as a cat?! We’re wealthy beyond measure, while that thing has nothing!

This obvious mockery and dismissive attitude infuriated the senior ministers who had served two generations of pharaohs. They silently cursed in their hearts: Hah, truly a rebellious prince! Even after becoming king, he knows nothing but war and indulgence! A living tyrant!

Using battlefield tactics in politics—does he not understand respect for his elders?! Just wait until the royal family has another heir. Then we’ll see how we strip him of his power!

A few of the high-ranking officials, already scheming their moves, pursed their lips and held their tongues.

The lower-ranking officials, who lacked influence, knew better than to pick sides in this standoff between the king and his court. Instead, they pretended to be wooden statues, choosing silence.

Tension filled the chamber.

On the throne, however, the pharaoh, with a cat in his lap, was smiling—completely reversing the atmosphere from before. And neither side was willing to back down.

Rek’mara, the vizier, glanced at the king, then at his colleagues. When Nephthys shot him a knowing, amused look, he sighed inwardly and obediently stepped forward to ease the situation.

“Heh heh, well, at the end of the day, a cat god is still just a cat. Some are simply more mischievous than others—it’s only natural.” He chuckled and smoothly shifted the topic: “Now, about the upcoming ceremony to select a queen…”

The mention of the selection process drew the interest of the pragmatic officials. The opportunistic ones seized the chance to engage in the discussion, while the old ministers, given a way out, masked their displeasure and blended back into the conversation.

And so, the matter of Bastet was dropped.

As Bastet rolled around on the table, biting at Yofar’s fingers and playing dumb, it snorted in its mind: Hah! These old geezers are so obviously targeting my poop-scooper. Even over something so petty—they’re just bullying my servant!

And they really thought that perverted master would actually confiscate my fish and bed?

Myaahaha, as if! We’re family, after all!

Heh heh heh…

—

On the way back from the council chamber, Bastet was smugly cradled in Yofar’s arms, wrapped snugly in a soft linen cloth. Its tiny tail flicked proudly, waving like a little flag, its green eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

It was on top of the world—until it saw its cat bed… and the half-eaten fish that had been unceremoniously removed along with it.

Bastet: “……”

Bastet: What the hell?!

“Pharaoh never goes back on his word,” came the amused voice above. Yofar, his deep, velvety tone laced with suppressed laughter, declared,

“So, Bastet, as of today, your possessions have officially been confiscated.”

“……”

For about three seconds, the little black fluffball sat in stunned silence.

Then—

It exploded.

—

Usually, the royal bedchamber was an impenetrable fortress, heavily guarded to the point where even a mosquito couldn’t get in without permission.

But today, an utterly bizarre and comedic scene unfolded.

The entire palace guard, along with the handmaidens, knelt on the thick fur rugs, hands groping across the surface, their heads lowered in concentration. Occasionally, they brought their faces close to the fabric, squinting as if examining something minuscule, all while making little “tsk tsk” sounds.

It was as if a whole roomful of nearsighted people had simultaneously dropped their invisible lenses and were now desperately searching for them.

Even the grand priestess Nephthys had set aside her ever-present staff. Lifting the hem of her long robes, she crouched down, running her fingers along the rug. Her expression was deathly serious, but when combined with the absurdity of the situation, it only made the scene even more ridiculous.

She let out a sigh, glancing toward the king, who sat on the bed with a darkened expression.

“Your Majesty…” she said gravely, “do you have any idea just how black your cat is?”

Yofar was silent for a long moment before nodding slightly.

“I do.”

Nephthys took a deep breath, her temples throbbing as she forced a smile through clenched teeth.

“If you knew, then—” she inhaled sharply, suppressing her frustration, “why in the gods’ names do you insist on using black fur rugs? Why cover the entire bedchamber with them?! And why—why—did you have to provoke that little—pardon me, I misspoke—that adorable tiny piece of charcoal?! Now it’s sulking in some dark corner, and we can’t even find it!”

Yes. That’s right.

This entire group of people, crawling on the floor like fools, was doing so for one reason—

To search for the sulking, missing black cat.

And because Bastet was so black, when it closed its eyes, it almost perfectly blended into any corner—so much so that they had been searching the carpet for nearly three hours!

Nephthys and Yofar locked eyes, silently condemning him.

"Do you seriously not know that your cat is like a walking, light-absorbing void?!"

"Have you no self-awareness at all?! Huh?!"

Yofar frowned unhappily. “...Bastet’s eyes are green.” So it wasn’t that black.

Hearing this, Nephthys let out a dry laugh. “Yes, my dear lord, you’re absolutely right. But the problem is... it has its eyes closed right now.”

Yofar: “...”

Seeing even the mighty Pharaoh fall silent, the dignified and beautiful High Priestess could no longer hold her composure—she secretly rolled her eyes. Serves you right for messing with it and taking away its bed. Now look, the cat’s run away from home!

A group of people continued carefully searching for a while longer. Since they were afraid of stepping on the Pharaoh’s beloved pet, no one dared to stand up and walk around. After all, they truly couldn’t see the black cat that had merged with the carpet.

Time ticked by.

The maids held pieces of meat, hoping to lure Bastet out, but after searching for a long time with no results, they were already drenched in sweat.

The royal guards were in an even sorrier state. These rough and muscular men—usually so imposing—were now crouched together pitifully, squinting their eyes, pursing their lips, and going “tsk tsk tsk” to mimic a mouse’s squeak. Their normally serious and authoritative image was completely shattered. As they clumsily crawled forward, their actions became increasingly ridiculous, almost comical.

“I think... I can’t take it anymore...” Nephthys wiped the sweat off her forehead. The royal bedchamber was simply too large. Her waist ached, her back hurt, and she was struggling to maintain her last shred of dignity by not collapsing onto the floor.

“Don’t worry, I believe in you, Nephthys.” The handsome Pharaoh sat upright, his icy blue eyes filled with determination, looking as solemn as ever. “You are of the High Priest’s bloodline. You have the power of foresight.”

Nephthys: “...” Here we go again—His Majesty’s nonsense mode!

For the first time, Nephthys discovered that her “power of foresight” could be used in such a way. Amused and exasperated, she rested for a while before resigning herself to her fate and continuing to help her superior search for his cat.

Little did they know, while they were searching high and low, the furious Bastet had already leaped out of a window and run away from home...

*

Hmph, destroying my house, stealing my food! I even tried to help you, worrying that those old schemers would bully you, and yet you treat me like this? I’m cutting ties with my poop scooper!

This is unbearable!

Fuming, Bastet flicked its tail and stomped forward. Now that it was in cat form, it was light and had incredible jumping ability. The palace guards either recognized it or didn’t care, as they made no attempt to stop it.

So Bastet muttered and grumbled as it bounded over countless walls, leaping and sprinting—until it suddenly realized something.

By the time the sky had darkened and its stomach started growling, Bastet finally snapped back to reality, crouching in the corner of an unfamiliar, secluded courtyard with a bewildered expression.

Who am I? Where am I?

Wait a second—

I’M LOST?!

That’s impossible… And where even is this place? I don’t think I’ve been here before.

As night fell, the surrounding flowers and plants looked as if they had been dipped in ink, and the air was eerily silent.

Bastet’s big, glowing green cat eyes darted around in confusion. Feeling a little uneasy, it pressed its soft paw pads onto the damp, yellowed leaves, sniffed the air, and cautiously took a few steps forward.

Then, suddenly, it heard voices.

Thinking it was a palace maid, Bastet perked up with excitement. Yes! If I follow the maids, I’ll definitely find my way back!

Elated, it dashed past scattered rocks and broad-leafed plants, then leaped onto a fake mountain rock. The view instantly widened before it, and the voices became crystal clear.

And then—

Amidst the high-pitched cries of a woman and the sharp sound of slaps—

Bastet froze, completely paralyzed.

It stared with wide eyes as a man and a woman twisted into a pretzel-like shape on the damp pile of fallen leaves below.

Bastet: ...Oh.

A dark, desolate courtyard on a moonless night, and you two are really going at it...

I mean... don’t your butts hurt from all those twigs and pebbles???

Whether or not their butts hurt, their clothes weren’t fully removed—enough to tell that the man was likely a servant from the palace, while the woman wore only a thin layer of gauze, which barely covered anything at all.

As the two became more lost in their passionate entanglement, waves of movement surged between them, nearly blinding Bastet’s poor cat eyes.

Realizing what it had walked into, Bastet’s fur burned with embarrassment, and its triangular ears trembled furiously.

See no evil, see no evil…

I saw nothing… I saw nothing…

Muttering to itself, Bastet turned, ready to flee—

Until it heard the man let out a deep growl as he reached his peak.

And then, in a voice filled with deep affection, he gasped out—

“Princess.”

Bastet: ...

The little black furball’s raised paw froze mid-air.

Oh, shit.

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