I begin testing my boons: super strength, super agility, and pyrokinesis. The knowledge of this world’s language has already settled within my mind like a cozy blanket. I can refer to it any time I want.

So, first test: super strength and super agility. How super are they?

I look at the distant forest, the trees swaying gently as if they know I’m about to put on a show. “Alright, let’s see what I’m made of,” I say to myself, my tail twitching with anticipation.

I take a deep breath and run.

Wow… just wow…

I am soooo fast—like the wind, if the wind were a ginger cat zooming through the forest. I feel like a furry rocket! Super fast? Check.

What else can I test? I scan my surroundings and spot a piece of rock just sitting there, minding its own business. “Well, let’s see if I can make this rock regret its existence,” I mutter, trotting up to it.

With a determined glare, I smash my head against the rock.

Wow…. Just wow?

Super strong? Check. Super durable? Probably. I shake my head, feeling a little dazed but mostly triumphant. The rock, on the other paw, is now a pile of dust. “Sorry, rock. Nothing personal!” I chuckle to myself, relishing in my newfound power.

Moments later, I am eating rabbit meat, having successfully hunted my dinner with the grace of a true feline warrior. I take a big bite, savoring the flavor. “I am killing it! No pun intended,” I say between mouthfuls, laughing at my own wit.

After finishing my feast, I lie back, patting my belly contentedly. “With super speed, strength, and delicious dinner skills like these, I might just be the most magnificent cat in existence!”

I look around the forest, feeling like I can take on the world. “What’s next on my list of feline greatness?” I ponder, my mind racing with possibilities.

Maybe I can find a crown or something. A cat king needs a crown, right? Or perhaps I should start planning my royal throne—definitely something plush. “Yes! A throne made of the softest catnip!” I declare, already imagining my kingdom filled with fluffy beds and unlimited treats.

Ah! I remember what’s next!

Second test: pyrokinesis. The power to control flames. A power that is basically the cat’s pajamas! I glance around, feeling like a fiery magician ready to show off my skills. “Cats don’t get the idea of humans burning their food,” I muse to myself. “But I am not most cats!”

With a dramatic flair, I light up my flames, feeling the warmth dance around me. Mentally, I imagine the forest exploding in a fiery display. I mean, what could make hunting easier? Fire! Cat! Meets! Fire! Cat. Hunt. Food. Cat. Cook. Food.

I focus on a nearby tree and— whoosh! The tree I am staring at suddenly starts combusting from the inside.

“Mwahahahaha~! Burn! Burn!” I cackle, watching as the flames spread quickly through the forest, sending sparks flying into the air like a cat’s confetti.

Creatures of all kinds start running away from the chaos. I refer to the language packet the Tiger God gave me, filtering through the vocabulary. “Oh look! That little green runt is a goblin!” I say, pointing dramatically. “And that dog-headed thing on two legs? A kobold! Oh, and that ugly giant over there? A troll!”

“Wow, I’m like a walking encyclopedia of chaos!” I chuckle, reveling in my newfound knowledge.

But on second thoughts, I shouldn’t be too brutal. A king has to be compassionate!

With a deep breath, I concentrate and subdue the flames with my mind. “Easy now, flames! You don’t want to go and hurt anyone. Just simmer down a bit,” I command.

By the time the flames are gone, a good portion of the forest is already burned. “Oops,” I say sheepishly, surveying the charred landscape. “Well, at least I made a statement!”

Awesome, pyrokinesis is fire! Again, no pun intended. I grin widely, feeling like a true master of the elements.

Looking around at the frantically retreating creatures, I can’t help but feel a twinge of regret. “Maybe next time, I’ll practice in a more… controlled environment,” I decide, my stomach rumbling at the thought of a less explosive dinner.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Alright, Kaiser,” I say to myself, “let’s go find some non-charred food that doesn’t run away screaming!”

It is a feast, alright!

Even after consuming a whole deer, my appetite is way stronger than I remember. I look down at my belly, which feels like it could fit another meal, and I can’t help but feel a little disappointed. “What’s the problem with me?” I ponder aloud. “What is the meaning of life if you can’t feel stuffed?”

I scratch my head, trying to wrap my furry little brain around this mystery. “Did I gain super metabolism along with all my powers?” I wonder. “Or is it just the fact that I’m a ginger cat destined for greatness? Because I distinctly remember being perfectly satisfied with a couple of treats back home!”

I glance around, eyeing my surroundings as if a buffet of delectable delights will appear. The forest is strangely quiet now, with only the occasional rustle of leaves. “Come on, universe! Throw me a bone—figuratively speaking, of course!” I shout, half-expecting a mystical banquet to materialize before me.

Instead, I spot a nearby bush and poke my head through the leaves, hoping for some snacks. “Maybe some berries or something,” I mutter. “How can I conquer the world on an empty stomach?”

To my delight, I find some plump, juicy berries hiding under the foliage. “Finally!” I exclaim, grabbing a handful and popping them into my mouth. They burst with flavor, and for a moment, I feel like I’m living the dream.

But even after devouring a whole bush’s worth of berries, my hunger still nags at me. “This isn’t working,” I grumble. “I need real food! Something that will make me feel gloriously stuffed!”

Suddenly, an idea strikes me. “What if I find a village? I can charm the local residents with my irresistible charm and demand a feast fit for a king!”

“Time to put my royal status to the test,” I declare, my confidence returning. “I mean, who could resist this dashing ginger face?”

With newfound determination, I set off through the forest, my eyes peeled for signs of civilization. “I’ll find that village, and when I do, I’ll make them understand that I am Kaiser—the future ruler of all cats!”

Okay, finding a village can wait. I’ve been wandering through this forest for several days now, and the deeper I go, the stronger the prey becomes. How dare they try to impede my path? The nerve of these creatures! But honestly, feeding on them isn’t so bad. Some of them are actually quite tasty, though I have to say, humanoids taste awful. Just bland and chewy, no flavor at all. But the forest has all sorts of strange creatures—like a walking buffet!

One time, I ate this horse with a single horn on its forehead. What’s it called again? Never mind. The important part is that’s the first time I’ve ever felt stuffed. Gloriously stuffed! It was a proud moment, like reaching enlightenment through overeating.

No problem so far—

Well, there is a complication though.

Let me tell you—swordsmanship is stupid! I mean, so overrated! I remember Fatso always going on and on about how romantic swordsmanship is, especially in isekai stories. Well, guess what? Total bullshit! It’s not romantic. It’s just boring! I swing my claws around, and trees fall like dominoes. The prey I’m hunting? Minced to bloody pieces before I even get the satisfaction of a proper chase!

It’s soooo stupid! What’s the point of honing this “skill” if I can just… swipe and everything’s destroyed? Where’s the finesse? Where’s the thrill of the hunt? I wanted dramatic duels, not instant victory via tree massacre. Every time I try to practice, it’s like, “Oops, there goes another forest.”

I swear, if I hear one more word about swordsmanship being romantic, I’ll find the nearest sapling and take out my frustration on it. Give me some good old-fashioned fire magic any day!

Some days later—

I narrow my eyes at the entrance of the cave. It’s dark and reeks of goblin stench. Perfect. "Oh, you think you can just waddle in and take my food? Wrong! You're about to experience some top-tier feline vengeance!" I say, my fur bristling with excitement.

Taking a deep breath, I summon the flames, letting them swirl around my paws. My eyes gleam as I prepare to light up their disgusting little lair. “Let’s see how they like extra crispy for dinner,” I mutter.

With a flick of my paw, a fireball forms and shoots straight into the cave’s entrance. Boom! The flames erupt, lighting up the entire den in seconds. The goblins inside scramble and screech, their ugly faces illuminated by the fiery glow.

"Pyrokinesis, pyrokinesis, pyrokinesis!" I chant under my breath as I stand in front of the cave—no, scratch that, the goblin's den. My tail flicks back and forth, my claws twitching with anticipation.

Why am I so pissed with these little green jerks? Oh, I have lots of reasons. For one, they’re ugly. And they smell like someone left fish out in the sun for a week. They’re also as dumb as a rock, which is saying something because I smashed one with my head and, well, that didn’t smell. But the biggest reason? I can hold a grudge like a pro.

And I remember yesterday—oh, yes, it’s all coming back now. Those goblins, those little pests, dared to steal my dinner. My dinner! The audacity! I was having a perfectly glorious meal, and before I knew it, a horde of them swooped in like I was running some kind of all-you-can-eat buffet. Well, that was the last straw.

For that, they shall pay.

“Mwahahaha! Burn, you wretched thieves!” I cackle, watching as chaos unfolds. Goblins start pouring out, screaming nonsense. I mentally flip through the Tiger God’s language packet for a translation, but all I’m getting is gibberish. Not that it matters—I know what their screams mean: pure panic.

“Serves you right!” I shout after them as they flee into the forest, their goblin butts on fire. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before messing with Kaiser, future ruler of all things feline and food-related!”

I stand tall, the cave now a smoldering ruin behind me. "Justice is served," I declare, feeling quite satisfied with my work.

As I turn to leave, my stomach grumbles. “Ugh, I’m hungry again.”

Well, there goes my glorious victory moment.

But on the bright side, at least now I have the entire forest to myself again. And this time, no goblins are going to mess with my dinner.