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Fantasy Arms Dealer
Chapter 31: The Cat in the Hat

Chapter 31: The Cat in the Hat

Chapter 31: The Cat in the Hat

Our conversation petered out after that, as Spike had a job to do, allowing me to get back to town, Pumpkin riding on my back the whole way through.

[Knife stored.]

I’d stowed my knife and swapped back to a Level 1 Merchant as soon as I was out of the guardsman’s sight, returning to the inn much as I’d left it. The innkeeper was already up, despite it being barely sunrise, humming a jaunty tune as he scribbled runes along the bar counter: something to do with his household magic, I was fairly sure. That suited me just fine, because I was still tired, a few hours on the dirt not being particularly restful. Breakfast would have to be sacrificed, I decided, heading to my room for a wash and some more sleep.

Pumpkin was clearly tucked out as well, as he even went into the bath with me, and I'd never known a cat to enjoy the water when they had the energy to protest. It got him quite clean, which was nice, but left the room smelling like a wet cat, which was less pleasant, so I stuffed him back in my inventory to dry off in peace. I wasn't entirely sure when Damien would pop back up, so I had to make the most of the time I had left to get back into top shape. Finally falling back into the comfort of my bed, I was out like a light the moment my head hit the pillow.

Pumpkin blinked, finding himself inside a familiar set of stone walls, yet again. He’d just been rubbing himself against Will’s face, when the familiar pull had grabbed him by the soul and dragged him back to this drab, grey room, the floor covered with various belongings strewn haphazardly on the floor. Spotting the fish he’d been saving for later, Pumpkin padded over, intent on an early lunch, since Will wasn’t present to stop him. As he approached the filleted mackerel, however, a glimmer of light at the corner of his eye caught his attention.

There in the corner of the room, half-buried under a mound of dirt and barely visible, was a strange, rainbow-coloured fruit. Its peel changed hue with every passing moment, going from red to orange to yellow, unto green and blue, and finally purple, before circling back to red and beginning the cycle anew.

[Rainbow Fruit]

The System declared, rather unhelpfully, both because that description provided no new information, and because Pumpkin was in no mood to read, not any more. Where his mind faltered, however, his stomach took the lead, growling to let him know it was time to eat. He might have thought this strange, considering he was well fed the day before, but the fruit’s strange compulsion was able to overcome any doubt on the matter, and before he knew it, Pumpkin had opened his jaw wide, and gobbled down the rainbow fruit, all but swallowing it whole in his haste. It was delicious, and quite possibly the sweetest thing he’d ever eaten: strawberry with just a tinge of catnip for an extra kick, just the aftertaste being enough to knock the moggy flat.

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[Skill fruit consumed.

User registered: Pumpkin - Level 2 Cat.

Generating profile.

Pumpkin

Class: Level 2 Cat

Title: [Empty]

Experience: 203/300

Traits

* Omniglot: Understands every spoken language. Ability to speak not included.

Titles

* Accessory: You’re absolutely marvellous at helping people kill. It would be unwise to wear this in public.

Advancement

* Annoy people.

* Assist your owner.

* Kill, kill, kill.]

Pumpkin’s mouth was burning now, the aftertaste having gone from decadently sweet to absolute sourness, making his lips pucker in misery. He turned back to the fish he’d abandoned in favour of the fruit, digging in with desperate fervour, less concerned about filling his belly, moreso the sheer desire to taste anything else save for a lemon, concentrated one hundred fold. It worked, the salty, savoury fish gradually fighting back the sourness, until Pumpkin was able to taste the fresh air again without wanting to gag.

[Skill fruit integration complete.

Unlocking rare racial Trait for Class: Cat.

Trait unlocked - Nine Lives: 9/9 remaining.]

Pumpkin tilted his head at that: he didn’t feel any different, physically at least, yet was struck with the absolute certainty that death wouldn’t be the end for him, not any more. How did he take that revelation, you might ask? Well, Pumpkin was no longer hungry, but he was still tired, so he wasted no time climbing into Will’s stolen gambeson, turning into a loaf underneath the warm padded jacket, and falling asleep.

I awoke some time after noon, finally feeling less like a zombie and more like a functioning human being. I’d never been one of those maniacs who could live happily off of four hours a night, not without a substantial dose of caffeine, so I’d always insisted on the importance of getting eight hours of sleep. I’d enforced this quite strictly with my employees as well, clamping down on workaholism and ensuring that they didn’t take their work home with them. This saved me a fortune on overtime wages, and somehow contributed towards my image as a benevolent CEO as well: truly an indictment of the British work culture, that a bare minimum adherence to regulations was regarded as praiseworthy.

But then, I’d always made sure to keep everything running well and above board, except for my ponzi scheme itself. As the old saying goes, never commit more than one crime at a time; I’d toed every line, and complied with every workplace regulation, all to ensure that nobody ever thought to launch an investigation, one that could uncover the financial irregularities I’d done my best to keep buried. It hadn’t worked forever, but I’d had a few good decades, and I was content with that. Damien knocked on my door just then, calling my name with characteristic volume. Briefly, I wondered if he could detect criminal thoughts, before I set the thought aside and put my game face on. Time to see if he got me the meeting I wanted.