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Cat Squad Six
Chapter 1-10

Chapter 1-10

Silence filled the Director’s office, growing louder and louder by the second, as a bewildered Brock stared at an increasingly stern-looking Director Shimada. Behind the Director’s chair, Captain Tara had regained her composure and turned to face them once more, but her cheeks and nose were still red and blotchy.

“I... I’m sorry,” Brock finally stammered out, “but I don’t know what you mean. What’s a ‘man guh?’”

A look of shock crossed the Director’s face, the first real emotion Brock had seen him express.

“You... you don’t watch anime, or read light novels or manga?”

Brock shook his head wordlessly, and Cap leaned down next to the Director.

“He was like that on our way back, too. He has no idea what an NPC is. Fiona thought he wasn’t a usual Sekkie, and her instincts have always been good. I’m beginning to think she was right.” She paused, face scrunching up in thought. “There’s also the way his Appraisal went, not to mention the fact he went out of his way to save us. Something’s definitely off here, sir.”

“It certainly seems so,” the Director replied, regaining his earlier sphinx-like calmness. “Very well.” He stood up from his chair, looking down at Brock with a calculating expression. “Normally, this is the part of the debriefing where we would gather as much information on the current state of your world’s culture trends as possible, particularly those related to isekai, as that informs us of what threats we might encounter in our own. Unfortunately,” he shrugged, “it seems you are the first Sekkie to cross over that is not actually an isekai as we know the term, so I doubt there is anything useful to be gained on that front.”

He motioned Brock to stand as well, and Brock lurched to his feet, wondering if his lack of knowledge had somehow doomed him to eternal imprisonment. It seemed like the information about ‘anime,’ and ‘light novels,’ was incredibly important to the Director, and inwardly Brock cursed himself for only ever caring about sports. If he ever got a third life, he swore he’d try to be more well-rounded.

“However,” the Director went on, “we can learn plenty from your skills, but that will have to wait for tomorrow.” He waved his hand towards the wall-to-wall windows at the end of the room, which were now showing the fiery shades of a brilliant sunset. “It is getting late, and the day has been long. Captain Swift. If you don’t mind, please escort Brock back to the infirmary. We’ll have him spend the night here while I get some things sorted out.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

“Very much so, Captain. I think our friend Brock will be much safer under our eyes until we gain a better handle on the situation.”

“Yes, sir,” Cap replied stiffly, and turned towards the door, beckoning Brock to follow. Bemused, Brock fell in behind her. As they reached the exit, the Director cleared his throat.

“Oh, and mister Manly. Thank you for saving my people. You may not have chosen to come here, but you did choose to do that. It is greatly appreciated.”

Cap flinched imperceptibly, then dragged him forcefully through the coruscating barrier covering the doorway. Once again, there was that moment of discontinuity, and then they were back in the wood-paneled hallway outside the Director’s office. Before Brock could take a breath, she grabbed his arms and pinned him up against the wall. Once again he was struck by her smell, that same fresh-cut summer grass scent that infused the shirt he wore.

“Did you mean it?” she growled, looking up at him, her fingers digging into his biceps. “Did Starak really talk to you?”

Brock nodded slowly.

“I didn’t know it was his voice. He asked me to save you all. He also...”

Brock trailed off. He wasn’t sure how to address the next part. Cap leaned in closer, her breath hot against his face.

“Spit it out. Now.”

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“...he also told me to tell you he loved you. It was the last thing he said.”

She froze, brown eye going distant, as if she was staring at something that Brock couldn’t see. Slowly her head dropped, and she let go of Brock with her right hand, then pounded it gently into his chest.

“...that jerk.” Her voice cracked. “That absolute jerk.” Sniffles sounded from beneath her veil of raven hair, and she let go of his other arm. Brock looked around wildly, unsure of what to do with his hands. Would she kill him if he gave her a hug? Should he pat her on the back? He did not feel at all emotionally equipped to handle the current situation, and the thought of doing the wrong thing and causing her more pain made him sweat.

Before he could do more than wave his palms by his sides ineffectually, Cap pushed herself away and ran an arm across her face. “Come on,” she said, but her voice had lost its earlier edge. “Let’s find you a bed.” She began walking down the hallway, and Brock fell in a step behind. He thought her back was slightly less hunched than before, her steps slightly more brisk, but he wasn’t sure.

After several minutes, he mustered up the courage to ask a question.

“The Director... what is he? Uhhh, sorry if that’s rude.”

“He’s an orc,” Cap said briskly, as if that explained everything. Brock scrunched up his nose in confusion.

“Uhhh, what’s an ‘orc?’”

Cap missed a step, stumbling slightly.

“Just how sheltered of a life did you live that you don’t know what an orc is? You Sekkies are the ones who created them. They’re everywhere in your culture, apparently.”

Brock opened his mouth to answer, but she waved him into silence.

“Look, what the Director is is the last thing you need to be worrying about. I have to get you to the infirmary; you’re going to have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Why is tomorrow going to be busy?”

“Because that’s when we find out what your skills actually do,” Cap replied, “and we’ve never tested someone like you before. That’s why the Director doesn’t want to put you in one of the transition houses just yet.”

She pulled open the door to the infirmary and led Brock inside. He was relieved to see that the attendant behind the desk at the entrance was not KB, but instead a normal-looking human man with silky platinum hair and pale skin in seafoam scrubs. Angular ruby sunglasses covered his eyes, and he appeared to be busy leafing through a magazine titled ‘Sunlight Staycations - The Finest In Tropical Travel!’

Brock was slightly less relieved when the man looked up and smiled at them, revealing canines that looked more like fangs, and lifted a hand tipped with two-inch long talons in greeting.

“Yo, T-bird, what’s up?” he asked. “I heard about Starak. Sorry, man. That sucks, bigtime.” His gaze lingered on Brock for a second. “Anything I can do?”

“Heya, Skeeter,” Cap replied, waving back. “Thanks for the thoughts, but I’m okay. Dealing with it.” She brought Brock forward. “Got an overnighter for you. Director’s orders.”

Skeeter whistled, and put his magazine down.

“We’re keeping the Sekkie around? That’s a new one. Usually the Director’s all about the pump and dump.”

“The Director wants him tested tomorrow, full analysis, so make sure he gets plenty of sleep. It’s probably going to be intense.”

“Roger roger, T-bird. You want to check in on Verdant? Thought I heard her rustling around a little while ago.”

“Thanks, but I saw her earlier.” She cocked a thumb at Brock. “I’ll talk with her tomorrow morning when I come pick him up. I still have to do my own debrief and file all this paperwork.”

Skeeter tsked.

“Don’t make me make sure you get some rest, T-bird. You’re not built to work the grave.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you at the beach, Skeeter.”

They both chuckled, as if sharing an inside joke, and Cap gave Brock a nudge.

“Make sure you listen to Skeeter, okay? I’m heading out. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early, kid.”

As she vanished out the doorway, Brock realized it was the first time she had called him anything other than ‘Sekkie.’ Feeling oddly lighthearted, he followed Skeeter into the room with the beds he’d woken up in earlier. It was much darker now, most of the lights in the ceiling completely out except for a lone glow over the bed Verdant was sitting upright in. Skeeter pointed him to the one across from her, and as they got closer, Brock rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

Verdant was growing vines out of her bare arms, coiling lengths studded with beautiful pink flowers that faded to white at their tips. She was talking to them in soothing tones, though her words were too low for Brock to hear. As he watched, more vines extended out, winding themselves around her shoulders like needy children. He didn’t even realize Skeeter had guided him to the bed until he was already sitting in it.

“Alright, my man,” Skeeter said in a friendly voice, “you heard the Captain. Time for you to get some shut-eye.”

“I don’t think I’m very tired,” Brock replied distractedly, still staring in wonder at the miniature forest springing up around Verdant.

“Well, it’s a good thing you got me here then.”

Skeeter moved directly in front of Brock, cutting off his view of Verdant, and leaned in close, pulling up his sunglasses as he did. Behind them were pure crimson irises with glowing black cat’s-eye pupils, unlike anything Brock had seen before. He felt like he should be screaming, but was oddly mesmerized by Skeeter’s hypnotic gaze.

“Sleep,” Skeeter commanded in a beguiling voice, fangs gleaming in a wide smile, and Brock sagged back as a wave of exhaustion crashed through him.

He was out before he hit the pillow.