Chapter 3 The Gathering of the Cats

The first light of morning had just begun to stretch across the sky, casting a soft, golden hue over the hidden alleyway. Cats of all shapes and sizes were gathered, their fur matted with the grime of the streets but their eyes sharp and full of expectation. I sat atop a crate, surveying my lovely visitors with a sense of pride. This was my gathering, my army of felines.

Felor had a total of 53 cats, including me and Lucky. How did I know that? Well, I’d gone to great lengths to conduct a census, of course. I even learned their names. If they didn’t have one, I gave them one. Everyone had a role in my little empire, and names were important.

One of the more dramatic cats stepped forward, a black-and-white with an air of superiority.

“I am the Great Demon Cat of the Western River!” he proclaimed in a voice that could only be described as chunni. “Tell us, Kaiser of the Sun, why have you gathered us in this unholy alley?”

I rolled my eyes, my tail flicking with annoyance. “Shut up, you chunni cat! I told you your name is Demo, okay?”

The Great Demon Cat—Demo—huffed in indignation but stayed silent. Good.

A massive gray cat with a powerful build stepped forward, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Speak, Kaiser… You are wasting our precious time! You promised us free food and that we’d hear Lucky-tan sing.”

Ah, Big-C. Or as I liked to call him, Chunky.

I flicked my tail and gave him a look of mock concern. “She’ll show, be patient.”

The crowd of cats murmured in agreement, their eyes gleaming with a mix of impatience and curiosity. “Aye,” they chorused.

“Where is Lucky-tan anyway?”

“This better not be a scam!”

“If you’re abusing Lucky-tan, we’ll kill you!”

“Let me sniff Lucky-tan!”

I narrowed my eyes, scanning the crowd. “Who said that?”

The chatter died down as I glared at them, but the murmurs of discontent were still there. I knew what was going on. Lucky had become something of a star among the cats. It was the song, I knew it. A few months ago, I’d taught Lucky the lyrics to a song, ‘Meow-meow-meow.’ I’d even gone so far as to teach her how to act cute and dance in a way that would appeal to both humans and cats. It was adorable—adorkable, even. Not in a lusty way, mind you, but in a cute and admirable way.

The song was a huge hit, and I had to admit, Lucky had a charm to her that was irresistible. I wasn’t surprised that the cats were now calling for her performance. They wanted their Lucky-tan.

I raised my paw, signaling for silence. “Okay, okay! Pipe down! If you lot behave, I’ll talk to her and get her to sing a song after this. But you have to listen first!”

The crowd grew quieter, their eyes still on me, expectant.

I smiled to myself. This was working better than I’d hoped. The cats, so prideful and stubborn, were now wrapped around my paw—figuratively speaking, of course. Lucky would sing, and they would follow my lead. It was all part of the plan.

“Now,” I said, settling into my perch with authority, “Let’s talk about what comes next. The Golden Apple isn’t going to steal itself.”

“Golden Apple?”

“What’s that?”

“Apple what?”

“Managed to snag an apple once, it was fruity.”

Of course, it was fruity, you idiot. It was an apple.

“Not really filling.”

“I heard it tastes good during summer.”

“What? Does Kaiser want an apple?”

“He should just steal it himself.”

“Where is Lucky-tan!?”

“I want to smell Lucky-tan!”

“Shut up, pervert!”

“Hey, isn’t that dude already married?”

“We are cats. We live freely.”

“And don’t pay child support.”

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“Dumbass.”

I sighed. This was getting out of hand. Maybe I had been too ambitious. I should’ve known. These cats, my so-called allies, were a mess. Bickering over apples, over Lucky-tan, over whatever the hell came to their minds.

I shook my head, deciding to take a more direct approach. “Alright, listen up!” I meowed, standing tall on my crate. “I want a certain Golden Apple. In order to steal it, I need your help! You don’t have to steal it for me, but if you promise to cooperate, each of you will get a share of my hoard!”

The cats fell silent, some tilting their heads in confusion. The chatter had stopped, and they were listening now.

I continued, “As you know, I have plenty of food. You all know this, because you’ve tried to steal from me too many times, but always failed.” I gave them a pointed look. A few cats grumbled under their breath, clearly irritated by my sharp words.

“Here’s the deal,” I went on, my voice steady and commanding. “You’ll be paid upfront with food the size of your head. After the job is done, you’ll get twice that. And for the top contributor—” I let the words hang in the air, “you’ll get triple your downpayment in food.”

A murmur of interest rippled through the crowd, but there were still a few skeptics.

“Even if the heist fails,” I added, “you’ll still keep your downpayment. Because I’m nice like that.”

There were a few cats who were still grumbling, clearly not sure if they wanted in. I could hear some whispering to each other, muttering things like, “Who’s gonna screw this up?” and “Why should we trust him?”

I flicked my tail, annoyed but keeping my cool. “Those of you who don’t want in, feel free to leave. But if you do stay, you’re in it for the long haul.”

That shut them up. Some of them shifted nervously, others just stared at me. The tension in the alleyway thickened, and I could feel the eyes of every cat on me, weighing the offer.

After a long pause, one of the bolder cats stepped forward—a scruffy tabby with a scar across his nose. “I’m in,” he said with a snarl. “I could use a bigger hoard.”

I nodded, pleased. “Good. Who else?”

One by one, the other cats started to speak up, all agreeing to join in the heist. Some were reluctant, but the promise of food was too tempting to pass up. The chatter and discontent had quieted, and now there was a strange, eager energy in the air.

Lucky was still nowhere to be found, but I was used to her disappearing. She’d come when she was ready, probably practicing her song or doing something else to get more attention. But for now, I had a group of cats to manage, and I needed to keep their focus.

“Alright, we’re in business,” I said, feeling a rush of excitement. “We’ll start planning the heist tomorrow. Everyone get some rest tonight. It’s gonna be a long, rewarding day.”

And with that, I gave the crowd one last look before slipping off my crate, tail high and pride swelling in my chest. This was happening. We were going to get that Golden Apple, and nothing was going to stop us.

“Now, like I promised… Welcome, Lucky, the pop star of feline kind!” I called out, raising a paw in dramatic flair.

The crowd of cats went silent, eagerly waiting for what was to come. Then, from her perch on the balcony, Lucky dropped down in a graceful arc, landing lightly on the ground with a soft thud. She flicked her tail and straightened, her eyes sparkling with mischievous energy. She was ready.

And then, with no hesitation, Lucky began to sing.

“Meow-meow-meow, meow-meow-meow~” Her voice rang out, a melodic blend of purrs and meows, perfectly in tune. It was clear she was giving it her all. To any other creature, the sight of a cat singing like a pop star might have seemed absurd. But to us, the cats of Felor, it was nothing short of mesmerizing.

Who said cats couldn’t appreciate music? We were aristocracy in our own right—refined and dignified. We had the right to indulge in the finer things, and Lucky’s performance was nothing short of art. The crowd of felines watched in rapt attention, their eyes gleaming with admiration. Some of them even swayed slightly to the rhythm, tail tips twitching in time with the beat.

Lucky’s voice was perfect—clear, sharp, and melodic, echoing through the alleyway. Her paws moved gracefully as she sang, making every movement look as though it were part of the performance. It was adorable, captivating, and oddly beautiful in its own feline way.

The audience of cats, my loyal gang of strays, were absolutely entranced. They meowed along in unison, some even adding their own little notes to the song. There was something so deeply magical about the whole scene—so out of place in the gritty, rough world of Felor. But it was our world, and Lucky was its star.

And then, something unexpected happened.

A figure stepped out from the shadows at the edge of the alley. A human, barely more than a boy, with wide eyes and a curious expression. He had been watching us from a distance, and I had only just noticed him. His robes marked him as an apprentice mage, but what really caught my attention was the look on his face. He wasn’t horrified, like I’d expected. No, he was fascinated. His eyes were glued to Lucky, following her every movement with awe.

The apprentice mage watched for a few more moments, taking in the strange spectacle. He then scribbled something down in a small notebook, his hands trembling slightly. I had no idea what he was thinking, but it was clear that this wasn’t just a casual encounter for him.

“Lucky, that was amazing!” I called out once she finished her song, her last note trailing off into a perfect, soft purr.

She flicked her tail and gave me a look of playful annoyance. “You sure know how to build up an audience, Kai. They better appreciate my talent.”

I chuckled. “Of course, they do. Who wouldn’t?”

The mage, still lurking in the shadows, seemed to take this moment to slip away, disappearing down the alley as quietly as he’d appeared. I didn’t think much of it at the time. He was just another curious onlooker, no different from the rest of Felor’s population.

But I was wrong.

Unbeknownst to us, that apprentice mage would spread the tale of Lucky’s performance. And from that day on, rumors began to swirl around Felor about a mysterious Cult of Cats. The story went that a shapeshifting witch, capable of commanding felines, had appeared in the city and was gathering an army of cats for some grand, unknown purpose. The rumors grew more fantastical with each retelling, and soon, whispers of the Cult of Cats were spreading through taverns, markets, and even the guilds.

Some said we were planning to overthrow the human rulers of Felor. Others believed we were preparing for some mystical ritual. And a few even claimed we were a group of ancient, sentient beings in disguise, pulling the strings of the world from the shadows.

As for me? I didn’t know what the apprentice mage had made of the whole thing. But I did know one thing for sure: I had bigger plans in mind. The Golden Apple was still on the table, and I wasn’t about to let anything—whether rumors or rival gangs—stand in my way.

But for now, I basked in the glow of Lucky’s success, knowing full well that, unbeknownst to most, our little performance had sparked something much larger than we could ever imagine.