During the rest of the day, Emil went from manor to manor, speaking with the judges and judgesses, begging a thousand million pardons for not being able to tell the news last night. Each time, he was met with condolences and surface-level forgiveness that poorly hid their real opinion of him. At the very least, none of them attacked him on sight, and he could justify to himself that Kitty’s plan on how to handle them was preemptive at best.

This would work out fine. There was no need to make enemies preemptively.

The day soon ended, and the next began, alongside Emil’s regular work. Everything went back to normal. He worked as mayor, Jazz worked at the hospital, Plus worked alongside the guards as security detail, Rat continued helping out at the hospital, and Kitty was as indispensable as ever. Things were going well, and for five wonderfully dreadful days, Emil felt certain that everything would turn out just fine.

“Another riot,” Kitty said, reading off a report sent by the former captain of the guards. “Fifth one in the last three days. Says here they looted a bakery and killed a guard, but when they tried to storm the city exit, they were stopped and a few died. Are you sure we don’t want to hold a conference or something denouncing these types of behaviors? It’s starting to get a bit out of control.”

“Denounce it how?” Emil asked rhetorically, and Kitty did almost answer, until Emil continued himself, saying, “By executing the rioters? Right, because making more martyrs will be great for my public image. They’ve already begun chanting the names of the ones killed by guards. If I take action, it’ll only serve to confirm their beliefs.”

“Maybe so,” Kitty said, leaning against the windowsill. “On the other hand, it could also improve the opinion of the judges. Shows that you’re quick to action; decisive and all that.”

“But I don’t care about what they think of me,” Emil muttered childishly. “I just wish they would stop trying to lobby against me.”

“Can’t please ‘em all,” Kitty said. His eyes fell down to look at something invisible. “Ah, by the way, the clock’s five—it’s about time to head home. You promised Plus you’d join them all for dinner tonight.”

Emil looked up from his work. “But I haven’t finished with the report, and I told the Judgess of Feynix I might visit for dinner, and—”

“And you told Plus you wouldn’t bring work home.” Kitty gave a cheeky smile. “Your work will still be here in the morning, you know.”

With mounting panic, Emil glanced up and down, between Kitty and his work. His face turned to stare at the papers. “But… but…” A hand fell on his shoulder. He looked up to find Kitty, smiling at him. All tension melted out of him, and Emil mustered a smile in return. “Yeah, alright. Let’s go.”

Heading out, Kitty threaded a coat over his shoulders, but once they exited into the early March evening, they found the air just a tad too warm for it. Emil returned it to his inventory, and off they were.

Halfway home, Kitty abruptly stopped. He made a strange face. “Kitty?” Emil asked. “What’s wrong?”

Kitty spied down the street they were heading. “Let’s take a different route. There’s a bunch of people gathered down this way, and they’re armed.”

Emil froze in place. “Another riot? Already?”

“Apparently,” Kitty said. “Come on, we’ll go around it. The guards will take care of them if they do something.” But even as he said that, Emil could tell that something was off. The suspicion on Kitty’s face remained during the rest of their walk, including when they arrived home to the late mayor’s estate. His family had graciously allowed them to remain, in exchange for the food being made using their points. This was a bit of a win-win, since it meant Emil and his party could eat food more similar to Earth food, and the late mayor’s family could afford to eat properly. Everyone was happy. Tonight would certainly be a pleasant evening.

To Emil’s happy surprise, the evening would indeed be most pleasant. They had dinner, discussed their most recent work, and with some coaxing, Emil was even able to convince Kitty to eat, if only a little.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“She’s really talented—if only Benevil weren’t so certain he’d die soon, I’m sure he could raise Mitt to be an excellent doctor. I’ve been teaching her a bit on my own, and she’s a wonderful student! Not to mention that the patients love her,” Jazz said, smiling widely.

“And how’s Pinn doing?” Emil asked in between spoonfuls of stew. “Is he still having trouble adjusting?”

“No, I wouldn’t say so,” Jazz said thoughtfully. “Mitt’s been taking well care of him, but…” Her expression fell slightly. “He is still only a child. I’m not sure if he should be working at all.”

Plus nodded slowly. “I’d agree, but I’m sure Benevil knows what he’s talking about. When he dies, they’ll both need to know how to take care of themselves.”

Jazz made a face. “I’d prefer not to think about that. He’s still got a while left, right? we should be able to cure the plague before he, you know… Yeah.”

“I hope so,” Emil said. “But you never know.” Slightly lost in thought, he turned to look over at the other side of the room, which was primarily adorned by a large, ornate furnace, which currently contained a large, beautiful open fire. Rat and Kitty were both sitting in front of it, entertaining the late mayor’s children, all of their shadows made long by the fire’s light. There were six children, ranging in age from twelve to three. The oldest had already left home a while back, moving all the way to the capital of Acheron. And as for his wife…

She was sitting in an armchair off to the side, simply reading and enjoying the view. All things considered, it was rather late. Emil was the only one still eating, trying his best to savor each bite.

“We’ve got to keep up hope,” Emil muttered.

“Not much else to have,” Plus said wistfully. “If nothing else, we can always…”

Emil didn’t hear that last part, because he was suddenly looking at Kitty. He was standing up, lit across the back by the fireplace, his bright yellow eyes fastened to the far window down the hall. He looked almost exactly like an attentive cat—a strange expression to see on him. “Kitty?” Emil asked, probably interrupting Plus. “Is everything alright?”

Kitty tilted his head slightly, uncertainty making his face far more human-looking. “I think so. It’s just, there were a lot of—”

CRASH!

Everyone turned towards the hall. Emil felt himself frown. “What was tha—”

Kitty flew past him and down the hall, gone in a flash, and now Emil could hear shouting. Dozens—hundreds?—of people shouting. People. Aetongue… goblins. Citizens. Civilians. And Kitty was—

Emil stood up so fast his chair fell over. “Kitty, wait! Wait, please, Kitty, don’t hurt them!” He threw himself down the hall, only barely registering how his party was shouting things after him. He could hear more crashing. Windows? Vases? Plates? All across the mansion. What was happening? Were they being attacked? By who? Why? Frantically, Emil pulled his staff from his inventory, only to return it once he turned a corner.

It was people. Normal people. Civilians. Goblins in tattered clothes with sunken cheeks and burning eyes, with swords in their hands—where had they gotten them?—and then Kitty, among them, above them, inside and through them, his claws moving like whips, bisecting and dissecting, splattering blood onto finely painted walls, a crystal chandelier hung above now drenched in red and black. Kitty’s flashing eyes moved from one to the next like an animal—target after target, and each one fell sooner than the next.

“KITTY!!” Emil screamed. “Stop! Please, please don’t hurt them! They don’t know what they’re doing, please just—”

There was a crash behind him as a window was forced open, and then a heavy pair of footsteps, and then, before he could even turn around, something cold had entered his back. He could see it exiting through his chest; through his spidersilk shirt.

Piercing Resistance Lv.6>

‘Wh… what…?’ Emil thought. The status message hung in his vision.

“I got one! I got one!” someone behind him shouted, and as Emil fell to his knees, the sword was pulled from his chest. Hot and warm blood spread across his chest, like he’d spilled cocoa. He was looking down at it. He couldn’t see Kitty. “I got one of those rettif hoekso—” He couldn’t see Kitty flash across the room, the presence behind him suddenly falling with a heavy thud to the plush carpet, nothing at all like that. But then he stumbled a little, and all of a sudden, Kitty was there, holding him, his face twitching and moving and forming itself into a million expressions, some of false joy, others of despair so immensely deep that he couldn’t see the bottom. But he was there. His bright yellow eyes moved up, and down, and across.

“Moleman,” he breathed. “Hey. Hey, Moleman, you’re—you—” Someone approached from behind and stabbed Kitty straight through the chest. He didn’t seem to notice. “You’ll be okay. You’ll be fine. You’re—my heart… I can give you my…” The person behind him was slashing at his back now. Kitty didn’t look at him. He reached down to his chest, and was about to saw it open. Emil reached out and took his hand. Kitty’s eyes moved erratically from his hand to Emil’s face. “M—Moleman?”

“Don’t…” Emil said, “Don’t hurt them. Please. Th—they don’t…” He drew a shallow breath. He felt a spasm in his chest.

Oxygen Deficiency Resistance Lv.2>

“Wait, don’t talk,” Kitty said, grabbing hold of Emil and pulling him to his feet. “I’ll get you somewhere safe, and then…” Sometime tried to attack them. Kitty, annoyed, touched them, and the person crumbled to the floor. Turning back to Emil, Kitty mustered a smile. “Come on. You’ll be fine. Can you use that healing spell on yourself? You’ll be okay. I’ll save you. Don’t worry.”

Emil felt cold. His legs didn’t want to move anymore. “Don’t… hurt… them…” he mumbled. But as his eyes fluttered closed, the last thing he saw was Kitty, killing another one.

He could be so horrible sometimes.