The hum of the descending airship grew louder, its sleek, transparent body shimmering like a polished pearl in the sunlight. Felix watched, impressed despite himself, momentarily distracted from Virgil’s antics. The craft was massive, shaped like a narwhal with a nearly 30-feet long spire protruding from the front of the body that was triple the size and length, its “fins” elegantly crafted to suggest movement even as it hovered. Its belly gleamed with opalescent lights, pulsating softly like the rhythm of a living being.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Felix squinted, shielding his eyes from the glare. “Why is there an airship…”

Virgil leaned lazily against the rooftop railing, clearly amused and seemingly unsurprised. “Ah, here comes your second pet. Let me guess—he’s the flashy type?”

Before Felix could respond, the airship’s underside slid open with a low hiss, revealing a retractable platform. From it descended the very same conspicuous, posturing figure at the narwhal airship’s mouth just now. Somehow, he had managed to reappear several feet away to the actual exit opening, still meticulously styled and as opulent as one would expect from the owner of such a mode of transport.

Forget private jets. Apparently, technicolor airships modeled after large sea creatures were the go-to for rich folks in this world.

The man was dressed in a bright, jewel-toned suit that seemed custom designed to demand attention. His sapphire blue blazer was paired with a matching waistcoat, offset by a bright topaz yellow cravat tied in an ostentatious knot. His crocodile-skin shoes gleamed in the sunlight, and his slicked-back blonde hair shone like spun gold. In one hand, he carried a vintage wooden walking stick—though it was clearly more for effect than utility—with a silver handle shaped like a roaring lion.

Felix could only stare numbly. No need to ask who this was. Only a man like this could be named Albrecht Thierry Luce Fitzgerald.

The airship hovered lower, a soft gust of wind ruffling Felix’s hair and causing Virgil’s khaki trench coat to flutter. The platform, which was lined in a red carpet, touched down with a gentle thud, and Albrecht stepped off with the practiced grace of someone who expected applause wherever he went.

“What a fine morning this is, wouldn’t you agree?” Albrecht declared, his voice smooth and resonant, carrying easily over the sound of the airship. He spread his arms as though addressing a crowd. “The heavens truly smiles down upon the Great Me.”

Felix blinked, and articulated eloquently in response. “Uh?”

But it seemed Albrecht wasn’t one to be deterred at all by the lackluster response as those clear green eyes of his instantly snapped to Felix. A beaming shark smile proceeded to spread across his handsome face as well.

“My dear!” Albrecht exclaimed, striding forward with the confidence of a man who owned the world. “Your divine transformation was positively magnificent. That sublime beauty! That unfathomable presence! That fearsome power! Truly, I couldn’t have chosen a better owner if I tried.”

Virgil snorted softly, muttering under a conspiratorially raised hand, “Peacock alert.”

Albrecht’s sharp ears caught the comment, and he turned his gaze to Virgil, raising a single, imperious eyebrow. “And you must be the one who decided to create a public spectacle out of your own foolishness. Why, it’s a pleasure to meet you, ol’ chap.”

Virgil smiled sweetly, the kind of smile that hid daggers. “Pompous peacock. Nice to meet you too.”

The corner of Felix’s mouth twitched. These guys were clearly masters of the art form called “cheerfully insulting someone with the most pleasant tone and brightest smile”. 

Well, who was he to lower the bar?

Felix immediately pasted on a polite customer service smile, “Who needs proper introductions, huh? I mean, that’s for normal folks.”

It was too bad no one had the courtesy to appreciate the effort he put in at the moment.

Albrecht tap-tapped his way to Virgil with the polished cane and looked down his thin nose at the other man. “I must admit, I admire your audacity, if not your intelligence. But tell me, what exactly were you hoping to achieve by leaping off a building? Besides embarrassing yourself, of course.”

Virgil tilted his head, his grin maniacal. And with that unholy gleam in amber tone eyes, he really did look the part of an unhinged rehab escapee that somehow only made him appear more attractive. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Not particularly,” Albrecht sniffed, adjusting his cravat. “I have better things to concern myself with than the antics of attention-seeking peasants.”

Felix was seriously thinking about the likelihood of slinking off while these two were too busy grandstanding, pet vs. pet, to notice. But just as he lifted a foot, the both of them turned his way as if they had Felix-radars built-in to them. (Oh, now they showed camaraderie?)

“My dear, I am so sorry to have been distracted by this mad lad. How rude of me.” Albrecht took two quick strides that easily ate up the distance with those long legs of his and eagerly snatched up Felix’s hands. 

“…” Dumbfounded, Felix could only let it happen. So bewildered, Felix stuttered involuntarily, “I—I thought I would leave you two to your bickering.” 

“I don’t bicker,” Albrecht said, sounding genuinely offended. Still, he showed no signs of letting go of Felix’s captive hands. “I debate. There’s a difference.”

“Of course there is,” Virgil said with mock solemnity, popping up out of nowhere from behind Felix and prying off the other man’s hands, one finger at a time. “Debating is what pompous peacocks do when they want to sound important.”

Albrecht bristled, his golden brows furrowing. “I’m sorry, but who exactly are you to insult me? Do you even know who I am?”

Virgil leaned casually against Felix, resting a chin on top of soft, downy silver-white hair, his grin widening. “Nope. Don’t care.”

Felix, uncomprehending how or why he was sandwiched between these two beanpoles, pushed them away indignantly. “Stop it, whatever this is!” What, short people didn’t have rights now?! Not that he was short, mind, these two just happened to have a few inches on him that’s all.

Albrecht straightened, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from his lapel. “Fine. I’ll let it go—for now. But don’t expect the Great Me to tolerate such insolence indefinitely.”

Virgil gave him a mock salute. “Did I just hear a peacock speak? The world is truly full of wonders.”

“Virgil,” Felix said with his arms crossed and a veritable dark cloud over his head. In fact, the glare in his ruby eyes looked nearly capable of shooting thunderbolts.

“What?” Virgil said innocently. “It’s just a joke between fellow pets.”

Felix stared, unimpressed. 

Albrecht took a step closer to Felix, his puffed up airs deflating somewhat in the presence of such a pleasing owner. (Though it had to be noted that this more “mellow” attitude was by Albrecht’s standards.) 

“As I was saying, I was absolutely dazzled by your divine transformation. So quick and such precision! You must be quite the prodigy.”

Felix shifted, suddenly feeling awkward again. Was this man going to keep heaping praises on him or what? “I just… did what I had to do. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Albrecht repeated, looking genuinely astonished. “My dear, you only uprooted two billboards. That’s hardly ‘not a big deal.’ For a Regal One your age, not many can have such control in their divine forms.”

Felix winced at the reminder. “Right. About that…” And what did he mean by only? Was destroying two billboards not enough?

“No need to fret,” Albrecht said offhandedly, waving a hand. “I’ll cover the damages. It’s the least I can do for my dearest.”

Felix blinked at him, his mind automatically skipping over the many endearments the man seemed so fond of using. “You’ll… what?”

“Pay for the damages,” Albrecht said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Consider it a gesture of my admiration—and my obligation as being yours, of course.”

Virgil interrupted with an annoying sing-song voice. “Obligation or showing off~?”

Albrecht boasted. “I wouldn’t expect the uncultured to understand. A man such as myself has the means to back up my words.”

Felix held up his arms and did a likely impersonation of an X traffic sign. “Stop! That’s enough. Can we please just… not?”

Before either of them could respond, a third interruption occurred within the span of an hour. 

Felix was completely unsurprised at this point. In fact, nothing short of the universe suddenly appearing as a flying, fast-talking pig and telling Felix he could return back to his old life would have gotten a reaction out of him now.

The sound of the rooftop door unceremoniously bursting open, and a group of official-looking people filing in heralded the presence of the real world outside of Felix and his pets’ shenanigans. These important looking people were trailed by the yelling couple Felix had seen below the building—Virgil’s red-faced parents presumably. The newcomers quickly surrounded them, their voices adding to the liveliness this rooftop probably hadn’t seen in quite a while.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Felix sighed deeply, resigning himself to do some explaining while looking appropriately chastised the whole time. Experience always told him this was the best way to deal with authority figures.

He figured this rule could be applied not just on Earth but also on cat planet galore.

AN: Catching up with the chapter progress on AO3! Please continue to let me know what you think! I enjoy hearing speculations, ideas, even wishes on what readers might want to see more of!

Felix stood a few feet away from Virgil St. Lilith, the alleged suicidal human he had just saved. His heart was still racing from the adrenaline of his dramatic divine form transformation. The rooftop wind swept past his now ordinary form sans even ears or tail as he glared at the cause of all this unnecessary drama. 

Felix’s otherworldly attributes had disappeared along with the oppressive aura that came with being an A-Rank Regal One in their divine form, leaving behind a slender young man who still felt far too new to his status as a “Regal One.” But any delight at finally poofing away his cat ears and tails was dampened by the only other person beside him on the roof.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

(Though not the relief about his clothes remaining intact after the ordeal just now. Something to ponder over later.)

Before him stood Virgil, who was busy brushing imaginary dust from his khaki trench coat and the long-sleeved, oversized sweater in sage green thrown haphazardly underneath. Those whiskey-colored eyes gleamed with unrepentant amusement. 

The man wasn’t shaking with fear or gratitude. No tears streaked his cheeks, no trembling apologies for endangering himself. Instead, he grinned like a Cheshire cat, utterly unbothered by the fact that he had almost plummeted to his death minutes earlier.

Felix inhaled sharply, gearing himself up for a well-deserved rant. “Are you out of your mind?”

Virgil tilted his head innocently, the overly affected manner of it so fake it bordered on laziness. “Define ‘out of my mind.’ Context matters, you know.”

“Context?!” Felix’s voice rose a little higher than he intended. “You jumped off a roof! Of a 22-floor building!”

Virgil wagged a finger, like a teacher correcting a student. “I was pushed off.”

“What?” Felix paused, his momentum halted just like that. He was too taken aback to do more than ask automatically. “Who pushed you?”

Virgil’s lips twitched into a violence inducing smirk. “Gravity.”

“…”

The sheer absurdity—audacity—of the statement made Felix stare at him in stunned silence for several beats. He raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, his booted feet beginning to pace back and forth in annoyance, the heavy thumps they made loud enough to be called stomping. “This isn’t funny, Mr. St. Lilith.”

“Oh, so polite! But just call me Virgil. Mr. St. Lilith is a screaming old man with anger issues,” Virgil dismissed airily, before replying to his reproach, “Anyway, I think it’s hilarious. Did you see the look on your face when you caught me? Absolutely adorable. Ten out of ten. Would jump again.”

Felix snapped his head up, glaring. “Would jump—what is wrong with you?!”

In fact, there were so many things wrong with what the man had just said he could only ignore them for now. Like that totally inaccurate and patronizing “adorable”. Who was he to call a grown man like himself adorable?!

Felix would’ve kicked up a snit about this but at the moment he was too busy focusing on the more pressingly inappropriate part of the man’s words.

Virgil shrugged, utterly unfazed by Felix’s outburst. Maybe he was even used to inspiring that kind of reaction. “Boredom, mostly. And curiosity. You know, you can learn a lot about a person by how they react to a high-stakes situation.”

Felix stared at him, trying to decipher whether this was a deeply disturbed individual or just an eccentric one. Either way, he was tempted to throttle him. “You staged this whole thing… as some kind of test?”

“Not just any test,” Virgil chirped, leaning forward conspiratorially, those amber toned eyes shining. “The ultimate test.” With both hands he flashed two cheeky thumbs up. “What kind of owner would I be saddled with if I didn’t at least check your reflexes? And for the record, you passed with flying colors.”

Felix grinded his teeth. “You mean to tell me you risked your life just to see if I could catch you?”

“Exactly!”

“Do you have any idea how stupid that is?” Felix hissed, his voice sounding incredibly like an angry, spitting cat over having its tail stepped on.

Virgil didn’t flinch. If anything, his grin widened maniacally. “I prefer to think of it as bold. Stupid would’ve been not calculating the wind speed, trajectory, and your proximity to the building. I mean, I didn’t even scream on the way down—had to keep my test conditions controlled.”

Felix felt a vein throb in his temple. He took a moment to do some slow, meditative breathing exercises, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as if they were mimicking being wrapped around a very inviting neck. “Controlled? You were plummeting to your death, genius.”

“And you caught me,” Virgil pointed out, his tone still infuriatingly chirpy, his own hands shoved into the pockets of his trench coat and nearly skipping in place. “Which means I was right to trust you.”

Felix opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, his bewilderment rendering him temporarily speechless. He resumed pacing again, boots stomping audibly on the poor rooftop floor, arms pumping like they would very much like to swing a punch at a certain grinning fool. “This can’t be real,” he muttered to himself. “This cannot be my life now.”

Virgil watched him with unabashed interest, rocking slightly on the heels of his scuffed wingtip shoes. “You’re taking this better than I expected. I mean, I thought you’d be angrier. Or maybe cry a little. But you’re holding it together pretty well, all things considered.”

Felix stopped mid-step and slowly turned back to face him, those scarlet eyes narrowing menacingly. “You thought I’d cry?”

“Well, not everyone can handle me,” Virgil said, sounding vaguely proud about it. “It’s a lot of responsibility, you know. But you’re lucky you got me as your devoted—” he paused, batting his surprisingly long lashes coyly, “—pet.”

“Devoted?” Felix rolled his eyes and repeated incredulously. “You don’t strike me as the ‘devoted’ type.”

Virgil feigned an offended gasp. “How rude. I’m incredibly devoted. Just ask anyone who deserves it.”

Felix narrowed his eyes, his patience stretched to its breaking point. “You are—”

“Brilliant? Handsome? Irreplaceable?” Virgil offered helpfully.

“—the most infuriating person I’ve ever met,” Felix finished, throwing up his hands in exasperated defeat.

Virgil grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “I get that a lot.”

Felix dragged a hand through his pale silvery hair blessedly devoid of furry ears, mentally counting to ten. Stay calm, Felix. Stay calm. You’re the owner. You have to set an example. What did one do when faced with an unruly pet?

Finally, he dropped his hand and took a step closer to Virgil, glaring up at him. The effect was unfortunately less authoritative than he hoped but the man had a lanky frame, thin but tall. Taller than Felix. Just another thing that had Felix feeling uncharitable towards him. “Listen, Virgil. If you’re going to be my…my ‘pet,’ there will be rules.”

“Rules?” Virgil’s brows lifted, and he tilted his head again like an intrigued bird. “What kind of rules?”

“For starters,” Felix ground out testily, “no more jumping off buildings.”

“Hmm.” Virgil tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What about bridges?”

“…” Felix gave him an unfriendly look out of the corner of his eyes.

“…Okay, fine. No jumping off buildings or bridges. What about cliffs? Cliffs have a certain dramatic flair, don’t you think?”

Felix resisted the urge to scream. “No jumping off anything. Ever.”

“But it’s so much fun! It’s the most thrilling feeling, falling but knowing that the skeletal hands of death will not yet have you in their grasp!” Virgil exclaimed euphorically, wrapping his own arms around himself and twirling on the spot, his khaki trench coat flaring out around his legs that were clad in brown corduroy. 

“You wouldn’t be so cruel as to deprive me of this bit of fun, would you?” 

Virgil peeked open one eye just in time to catch the small petal pink lips twitch in reluctant amusement at his antics.

Composing himself, Felix snapped with more ire about being undermined than the situation itself. “I’m not here to be ‘fun’. I’m here to keep you alive, which you seem determined to make as difficult as possible.”

Straightening, Virgil gave him a long, considering look. His grin softened into something less maniacal. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

Felix blinked at the sudden shift in tone. “Of course I’m serious. Why wouldn’t I be?”

For a moment, Virgil didn’t respond. He studied Felix with an intensity that made the boy shift uncomfortably under his gaze. Then, to Felix’s surprise, Virgil smiled—not his usual slap provoking smirk, but a softer, almost wistful expression.

“Guess you’ll do for now,” Virgil murmured quietly to himself.

Felix frowned, caught off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Before Virgil could answer, the distant hum of propellers broke the moment. Felix turned, the frown still on his face. It only deepened further as he spotted an approaching behemoth that blocked out the sun and cast the surrounding area in its narwhal (?) shaped shadow. 

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Soon the shimmering craft stopped above the rooftop they were standing on. Its “mouth” opened and a brightly conspicuous figure could be seen posturing at the entrance.

Virgil’s grin returned in full enigmatic force. “Looks like the circus is in town.”

Felix sighed, overcome by the urge to turn into his cat form and hide under a bed.

And the day had only just begun.

AN: Catching up with the chapter progress on AO3! Please continue to let me know what you think! I enjoy hearing speculations, ideas, even wishes on what readers might want to see more of!

Ivory Sanctuary Class of 2024 (3,821 new messages)

Felix hesitated before tapping the notification. The chat exploded in vibrant colors and animated stickers as he skimmed through the latest messages. But with the ease of anyone of his age group, he navigated the rapid-fire, chaotic stream of emojis, photos, and commentary.

[Lyria Berylstone: Just picked up my first pet! She’s SO cute. Look at her tiny curls 🥰!” [Attachment: photo of a beaming Regal One with a curly-haired human.]

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

[Marko Garnetson: Whatever, Lyria. Wait till you see my pet. Dude’s ripped. He could arm wrestle a E-Rank!]

[Cleo Goldwyn: Uh, Marko. We’re not supposed to overwork them. They’re fragile.]

Felix rolled his eyes but smirked in spite of himself. The messages painted a clear picture of what young Regal Ones were like—ambitious, competitive, and proud.

Then came the gossip.

[Fiona Quartzwell: Anyone else yet to pick out pets and freaking out about the selection? I feel like I’m picking soulmates, not pets 😅.]

[Theo Onyxwood: Relax, Fiona. You’re just overthinking as usual. Besides, anyone would be a better choice than the ones a certain someone picked 😏.]

[Sam Topaz: Lol, turns out Mr. Perfect isn’t so great at everything. At least his tastes suck 🤪.]

[Sonia Silversand: Did anyone see him this morning? He was early for his appointment, which is SO unlike him. Did the ‘lone wolf’ finally realize he’s not too cool for us?]

[Jax Flintcroft: Nah, he’s probably brooding in a corner, pretending to be mysterious. I bet he’s still mad I beat him in our final sparring match.]

[Ella Pearlman: Are you kidding? You call a tie ‘beating’? Felix could wipe the floor with you, Jax. He just didn’t want to humiliate you 🙄.]

Felix blinked. What the hell? Were they talking about me?

Upon confirming that there was no one else named Felix in their year, he couldn’t help but feel conflicted.

The original Felix, it seemed, had been the subject of equal parts admiration and resentment. Popular among cats and humans alike with a reputation as a talented but aloof figure. 

No pressure or anything, Felix thought, his stomach churning. “I might be able to pull off the ‘aloof’ part, but talented…?”

The chat continued:

[Theo Onyxwood: He barely even talks to anyone. What an arrogant ass.]

[Zara Emeraldine: He’s not arrogant! He’s just… mysterious.]

[Sam Topaz: Mysteriously full of himself, maybe. Bet he’s just overcompensating for something.]

The more Felix read, the clearer the image of the original he got. A star student, admired and envied by his peers, yet distant enough to fuel endless speculation. His haters called him arrogant, while his admirers praised his dedication and skills—especially in combat.

“Well, that’s just fantastic,” Felix muttered. “I can’t even dodge a flying handbag, and everyone thinks I’m some battle god.”

As he scrolled further, he found a thread of messages about the ongoing assignments to career paths. Everyone seemed to be buzzing with excitement or anxiety about their placements, with combat assignments drawing particular attention.

[Jax Flintcroft: Combat Division, here I come! Can’t wait to show off my divine form 🔥.]

[Marko Garnetson: Good luck being in Bloodstone’s shadow. I heard both the Leader and Combat Divisions fought over him. The battle was epic.]

[Fiona Quartzwell: OMG, is that true?! As expected of my idol 😍.]

Felix nearly dropped his phone. Fought over by superiors? What would they think once he didn’t live up to their expectations?

He slumped forward, burying his face in his hands. “I’m so screwed.”

Just as Felix was imagining various scenarios that inevitably ended with him being dragged and thrown out by his tail, a sudden noise outside the building drew his attention. 

A crowd had gathered across the street, their murmurs audible even through the thick glass walls of the lobby. Felix squinted, noticing that many were pointing toward the roof of the building across the street, their expressions ranging from shock to disapproval.

Curious, Felix slipped out of the lobby and moved closer to the scene. As he stepped outside, the sound of voices grew clearer.

“What’s going on?” someone asked, clearly having been attracted by the noise as well.

A person standing nearby heard them and paused in their discussion with another pedestrian. “Some human’s up on that roof. Looks like they’re about to jump.”

“A human?” someone in the crowd asked, their voice tinged with disbelief.

“Of course it’s a human,” another replied. “No Regal One would ever do something so undignified.”

Felix followed their gazes to the rooftop of the building opposite. A lone figure stood on the edge, silhouetted against the morning sky.

It took Felix a moment to process what he was seeing. The figure wasn’t just standing—they were poised to jump.

Felix’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Shameless human behavior,” one Regal One muttered, their tone dripping with disdain. “They don’t realize how lucky they are to have us.”

Another voice countered, softer but no less audible and dripping with pity. “Poor thing. Humans are so delicate. It’s tragic when they lose hope.”

The murmurs swirled around Felix, but his attention was locked on the jumper. His initial reaction was detached—it was a tragic scene, sure, but it didn’t concern him. That is, until his ear twitched and picked out an angry voice through the din.

“Virgil!”

The crowd below was a chaotic mix of Regal Ones and humans. Some whispered in hushed tones, while others shouted for someone to intervene. Felix’s eyes found a human couple near the front of the crowd, their faces twisted in anger and fear.

“Virgil St. Lilith, get down from there right now!” the man shouted, his face red with anger.

“How dare he pull a stunt like this!” the woman shrieked. “Does he have any idea what this will do to us?”

The figure on the rooftop didn’t respond, but Felix thought he saw him look this way.

Suddenly, his ears flattened over his head in shock. The name sent a jolt through his system. Virgil St. Lilith.

The face from the profile flashed in his mind: angular features, whiskey-colored eyes, a smile that didn’t quite reach them. One of his prospective pets.

Felix’s pulse quickened. “No way,” he whispered.

What were the chances of the police, or rather the members of the Combat Division arriving in time?

As if to answer that unspoken question, gasps and cries from the crowd erupted around him. Felix instantly looked up and saw as that khaki colored figure swayed, one hand already letting go of the railing.

Oh, fuck.

Pushing past the crowd, Felix darted toward the building’s entrance like his life depended on it. Even as he ran, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but something was urging him to get to that rooftop before it was too late.

*

It couldn’t have been more than three minutes by the time Felix burst through the doors opening out onto the roof of the 22-floor office building.

A feat that shouldn’t have been possible but barely broke a sweat on Felix’s superpowered body. But Felix had no mind to marvel over his crazy new physique.

“Virgil!” Felix blurted out. Even as he skidded to a halt, appearing as composed and trustworthy as possible. Internally, he was panicking. How did one even go about trying to talk a suicidal person out of commiting their suicidal deed?

But Felix needn’t have bothered. The young man in a khaki trench coat that flapped in the wind only turned around calmly at the call. Whiskey colored eyes met his own ruby orbs and held them for a few suspended seconds before their owner flashed him a beatific smile.

Before Felix could puzzle out that enigmatic smile, any thoughts in his head grinded to a screeching halt. 

The man with the intoxicating eyes and just as potent smile let go of his other hand on the railing.

And without so much as a word, that tall, lanky figure tilted backwards.

“!”

“Fuckfuckfuck—!”

*

If someone were to ask Felix later what had possessed him to sprint over at a speed that surely broke world records (on Earth, anyway) and leap over the railing after that absolute nincompoop… he would have blamed it on his Regal One instincts. Like how a gentleman would automatically reach out to catch a fainting young woman or hold the elbow of an unsteady old lady.

Nevermind that on some unlucky occasions, the former turned out to be a stalker and the latter a scammer.

Felix should’ve known that with the kind of luck he had (such as dying by handbag-kun) he would encounter a similar fate.

Only doubled in misfortune with the other being some kind of a cross between a stalker and a scammer. With a dash of insanity just to spice things up.

*

A breathless, exhilarated laugh drifted upwards on the wind of gravity’s momentum, tones of mellow delight betraying their owner’s joy. Whiskey colored eyes were bright as if a flame had been lit within as they focused on the celestial being diving down after him, trailing storm clouds and silver lightning in their wake.

Despite his eyes watering slightly from the fierce, unnatural gales, Virgil St. Lilith did not blink once, so avidly focused on his would-be savior he was.

When deceptively slender arms that tapered down to massive diamond tipped claws wrapped tight and unyielding around him, his vision filling up with luminant rubellite, pearlescent and mercury, another breathy laugh escaped him. There had never been a doubt in his mind that this magnificent being would not outrace the speed of gravity and save him from himself.

“Well, hello there.” Virgil whispered, staring into those flaming carmine eyes framed in curled snowy lashes, those equally pale brows furrowed slightly in consternation. Their faces were so close Virgil could feel the ticklish breath of the other, so warm and soft it belied the fact that what he was currently being clutched in the claws of was a being of indomitable power, as uncontainable as a supernova.

The Regal One—his Regal One—who only reached his chin if you didn’t take into account those two-pronged, stupendously voluminous tails, each hair needle sharp and glinting, that fanned out behind him. Or the colossal wings covered in countless blinking blood red eyes, stiffened slightly in response. Even all three pairs of his wings and the many eyes that covered them froze along with him. But strangely enough, they didn’t succumb to gravity and instead remained suspended high up in the air between several hundred meter tall superstructures in a sudden defiance of nature. 

The golden light of day which fully haloed the city below also bathed them in a soft glow, highlighting honey gold in Virgil’s wind disheveled chocolate tresses and glinting dazzlingly off of the other’s pale pearlescent strands. 

And as banal as it might sound, Virgil truly did feel as if time had stopped for them at that moment. At least for him, the endless voices and dark thoughts that usually gnawed at his psyche seemed to have been banished temporarily, as if it feared the burning brightness in his arms. Whispers of you should’ve never been born, what a wretched child, and why are you such a freak?! sputtered out like a weak flame up against a violent storm, leaving Virgil feeling a rare peacefulness.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

So lost in the feeling, he nearly missed the flutter of those snowy lashes which was the only sign the being—boy, creature, god?—gave before they were moving again, landing not long after on the roof of the Pet Bureau’s headquarters.

AN: Thank you to those who gave this little story a chance! Please continue to let me know what you think! I enjoy hearing speculations, ideas, even wishes on what readers might want to see more of!

As he stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The interior was all marble floors and high ceilings, with golden accents that caught the sunlight streaming through the tall windows. Felix’s boots echoed loudly as he crossed the pristine lobby, trying not to look too much like a wide-eyed tourist. 

He glanced around, noting how impeccably dressed everyone seemed. In some ways, the Pet Bureau was like a matchmaking agency and everyone who stepped into here—from cats to humans—looked their most polished, putting forth the best image of themselves. 

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

So naturally, Felix felt woefully out of place.

A sleek reception desk manned by a cat attendant stood at the center, while to the left, a café area buzzed with activity. Cats, easily identifiable by their preternatural grace even while in human form, mingled with their human companions. Felix adjusted his hood nervously, acutely aware of the ears that twitched under the fabric.

“Checking in for Felix Bloodstone,” he said, handing over both his school and city ID.

The attendant, a woman with short-cropped hair and a professional smile, nodded, barely blinking at Felix’s appearance. “Ah, early, I see. Your appointment to meet your selected humans is at ten. Feel free to wait in the café.”

Felix mumbled a thanks and headed toward the seating area where he chose a corner table. He pulled out his phone to avoid interacting with anyone while also passing the time. On top of everything that happened yesterday, he had yet to fully learn more about this new world he was stuck in. This extra time while waiting was just what he needed.

Felix started simple, typing in Pet Bureau. A deluge of results appeared instantly, listing official websites, news articles, and forums. He tapped on the first link, which brought him to a sleek homepage adorned with elegant graphics of feline and human figures.

The banner at the top read: “Mzia Pet Bureau: Serving the Bond Between Regal Ones and Their Cherished Companions.”

“Okay… ‘cherished companions’? That’s one way to put it,” Felix muttered.

Scrolling further, he saw a mission statement:

“The Pet Bureau is dedicated to fostering harmonious relationships between Regal Ones and their human pets. From registration to training, we ensure every pet is matched with their perfect Regal One.”

Again, Felix couldn’t help drawing connection to a matchmaking agency and unconsciously let out a chortle.

He also noted that the cats of this world didn’t seem to refer to themselves as such but used the rather snooty (in Felix’s humble opinion) term “Regal One”.

He moved on to another search: Mzia. Like he had suspected, this wasn’t Earth but B3-52, a planet governed by the Regal Ones—sapient cats with supernatural abilities. Felix clicked on several pages with information about Regal Ones and took some quick notes down while reading.

Regal Ones were the apex species of B3-52. They possessed three distinct forms:

1. Human Form: Indistinguishable from humans, except for the ears and tail that appear when they aren’t in control.
2. House Cat Form: Compact and agile, perfect for blending in or relaxation. 
3. Divine Form: Their most powerful state, used only in times of great need.

The hierarchy of Regal Ones are strictly defined:

1. S-Rank Regal Ones: Deities in all but name. Their divine forms are said to be awe-inspiring, capable of single-handedly quelling the most dangerous Corrupted threats. They rarely interact with society outside of ceremonial occasions.
2. A-Rank and B-Rank Regal Ones: The backbone of Mzia’s government, military, and other high-level functions. Regal Ones at these ranks are revered for their abilities and intellect.
3. C-Rank and Below: Ordinary Regal Ones who contribute to society in less glamorous ways, from running businesses to teaching.

There were strict laws governing interactions between humans and Regal Ones. Humans were to be protected and cared for, but there were unspoken social rules that Felix found unnerving. For instance, a Regal One’s competence was often judged by the behavior and appearance of their human pets.

So not only do I have to keep myself from getting found out, I have to make sure my humans don’t embarrass me either? So much work for so little gain! Felix grumbled internally.

His search next led him to Mzia’s government website, which he managed to glean common knowledge on its structure which was divided into three main divisions:

1. Leader Division: Responsible for policy-making and governance.
2. Combat Division: Tasked with defending society from threats, including Corrupted beings.
3. Nurturer Division: Focused on education, healthcare, and the well-being of both humans and Regal Ones.

The Nurturer Division managed facilities like the Ivory Sanctuary, where young Regal Ones lived and were educated until adulthood. Humans, meanwhile, attended separate schools but could earn fellowships to study alongside Regal Ones if deemed exceptionally talented.

Felix leaned back against his seat, letting the information sink in. So… cats run the world, and humans are just kind of… there? Pets? He glanced around the lobby. Most of the humans he saw were fawning over their cats or chatting animatedly, seemingly content with their roles.

“I guess ignorance really is bliss,” Felix muttered.

Suddenly, Felix stumbled upon an article on the site that made his stomach churn in uneasiness. It described the Madness Index, a measure of mental stability present in every living being on B3-52—Regal Ones, humans, animals, even plants.

When a being’s Madness Index dropped below zero, they became Corrupted. These creatures, stripped of their rationality, turned into violent, supernatural entities driven by chaos and destruction.

The article included a chilling warning:

“Corrupted beings pose a grave threat to society. When an individual’s Madness Index plummets to dangerous levels, intervention is required. If left unchecked, Corrupted beings can escalate into S-ranked threats, known as Evil Ones.”

Felix swallowed hard. The article went on to describe how the Combat Division was responsible for neutralizing these threats. And apparently, most if not all Regal Ones chose their humans prudently. Humans who could provide moral or even actual support in their career. For example, Regal Ones working in the Big 3 often selected human pets who could provide strategic support in their work. These humans seemed to be the only exceptions to the overly coddled masses. Likewise, their status in society was much higher—the highest a human in this world could reach.

Felix couldn’t help thinking about his own selected humans. Could the original him have chosen them in a calculated way? But thinking of what was written on the profiles and their ridiculously good looks, he honestly had some doubts.

Felix’s search brought him back to the role of humans in this society. An article titled The Bond Between Regal Ones and Humans detailed how humans were registered with the Pet Bureau at birth. They were raised with the expectation that they would eventually become the cherished companions of Regal Ones, offering emotional support, companionship, and occasionally specialized skills.

Felix skimmed the section about the selection process. Regal Ones were encouraged to choose their first pets upon reaching adulthood, forming lifelong bonds. The tone of the article was saccharine, emphasizing how Regal Ones adored their humans and would go to great lengths to protect them.

“Adorable and cherished,” Felix muttered, mimicking the article’s tone. “More like overly pampered and clueless.”

Felix’s displeasure hit a crescendo as he pieced together the information. He wasn’t just in a world where cats ruled. He was one of those cats. A Regal One. And not just any Regal One—he’d been recruited into the Combat Division, a position that required strength, skill, and the ability to fight monsters.

Felix slumped against the window, watching the city outside. Why couldn’t he have just transmigrated into a regular human? A normal life, as someone’s adorable and cherished pet, didn’t sound so bad right now.

But another thought crept in, one that brought a flicker of cold comfort. If he’d been chosen for the Combat Division, it must mean he was powerful—at least on paper. That was better than being a helpless human at the bottom of the food chain, vulnerable to the Corrupted.

I just have to figure out how to use these supposed powers without making a fool of myself, Felix thought.

The world he’d found himself in was dangerous, absurd, and overwhelming, but it also offered a golden finger—a chance to survive, maybe even thrive, if he played his cards right.

Felix, determined to shift his focus, picked up the phone again and tapped on the next search result. It was a forum for “young adult Regal Ones,” and the title of one thread immediately caught his eye:

“Combat Division Rookie Tips: Surviving Your First Year.”

The first post read:
“If you’re reading this, congrats on joining the Combat Division! You’re either incredibly brave or incredibly unlucky. Probably both.”

Felix snorted. “Unlucky doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Another post outlined “Combat Essentials,” including advice like, “Don’t rely on your divine form unless it’s a last resort—it’s exhausting, and the collateral damage is insane.”

Lingering on the words collateral damage, Felix scrolled further. His tail twitched restlessly. “Just what kind of monsters are we talking about here?”

A post further down answered his unspoken question:

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Evil Ones are terrifying, but they have one weakness—”

Before he could read the rest, his phone pinged with a notification. A blinking icon in the corner of the screen caught his attention: a group chat titled Ivory Sanctuary Class of 2024.

AN: Thank you to those who gave this little story a chance! Please continue to let me know what you think! I enjoy hearing speculations, ideas, even wishes on what readers might want to see more of!

As Felix tossed and turned on the ridiculously large cloud bed, he was plagued with the worry: how was he supposed to manage four people with completely different, difficult personalities, when they’re also relying on him for protection, food, and…whatever else human pets needed?

The very prospect was daunting. Sure, they were adults, but the profiles made it clear that in this world, humans depended entirely on their cats for safety and status. Felix felt a pang of anxiety twist in his gut.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

He couldn’t even get rid of his stupid ears and tail, and now he was responsible for the care and livelihood of four humans? The world was asking too much of him. What did he do to deserve this? That brick-purse wasn’t even meant for him! 

Felix angrily stroked his fluffy tail. The injustice of it all!

And then a horrible possibility popped into his head.

“Oh, god.” Felix muttered at the ceiling, ruby eyes wide and clearly with no signs of sleep in them. “What if they take one look at me, realize I’m a fraud, and decide to lead a rebellion?”

The thought of being overthrown by his own pets was almost too shameful to handle. He would be a failure of an owner.

Even if he could go back to his normal life as a human earthling, embarrassing himself in the duration of his visit to cat planet was still unacceptable! 

If there was one thing Felix shuddered at besides responsibility, it was embarrassment.

These humans weren’t just abstract profiles on paper. They were real people, with lives, dreams, and personalities. And now, for better or worse, he was responsible for them.

“I hate couples,” he growled. If he ever gets to go back to his own world, the first thing he was going to do was kick his roommate’s ass.

The weight of responsibility felt suffocating. Back home, he’d been an ordinary college freshman, worrying about grades and the future. Here, he was not even human and with expectations he hadn’t signed up for.

He wanted to whine and tell the powers that be to fuck off. But he couldn’t. This wasn’t the relatively safe world back home. He could get killed here.

Felix had not forgotten that call from the Combat Division.

As he finally began to doze off, his mind conjured up the profile photos.

“At least they won’t be an eyesore, aesthetically speaking,” he grumbled into his pillow. “That’s something…right?”

*

Felix’s alarm blared at 7:00 AM, shattering the fragile peace of his short, fitful catnap. He bolted upright in bed, his heart pounding, momentarily disoriented. The events of the previous day crashed back into his memory like a tidal wave when his reflection in the mirror across the room caught his eye. There they were—the silky white ears twitching unrepentantly at him and the thick, plume-like tail sprawled across the bed.

“Oh, I’m still here. And those things are still there.”

Disappointed, Felix dragged himself to the absurdly luxurious en suite bathroom, his bare feet padding against heated marble floors. The bathroom was obnoxiously oversized, dominated by a fan-shaped jet tub that could host a party. Felix stared at it for a moment, pondering the logistics of bathing as someone with fur.

After splashing water on his face and brushing his teeth, he attempted to fix his hair, but the persistent ears made everything look ridiculous. He gave up with a groan and trudged to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Felix hunted through the cabinets and fridge, searching for coffee. Unsuccessfully. 

Admitting defeat, he could only crack open a can of tuna and a bottle of milk with a resentful cloud over his face. “What’s the point of being a cat boss when I can’t even have a goddamn cup of coffee,” he muttered before scarfing it down.

Glancing at the clock on the microwave—7:37 AM—Felix decided he needed to get dressed if he was going to make his 10:00 AM appointment at the Pet Bureau. Felix knew himself well enough to set apart extra time due to his poor sense of direction even with the use of a smart map app.

The walk-in closet was intimidatingly large, filled with clothes with a streamlined, modern look in a neutral, monochromatic color scheme. Felix sifted through the fancier pieces until he found something more his speed: a thick red hoodie and light grey plaid trousers, though admittedly they had bold graphic patterns and metallic accents. He also managed to find a pair of military-style lace-up boots that he immediately fell in love with. He then stuffed his tail uncomfortably into the waistband of his trousers, tugged the hood over his ears, and grabbed the documents he’d found yesterday, making sure to pocket his city ID that doubled as a transit pass.

Exiting his apartment, Felix entered the elevator, his tail twitching awkwardly against the fabric of his plaid trousers. He was acutely aware of every movement, the appendage seemingly determined to draw attention to itself.

On the way down, he encountered other residents of the building. It didn’t take long for him to figure out who was a cat and who was a human. The pets acted with a spoiled, carefree demeanor, clinging to their owners or chattering with an exaggerated cheerfulness. The cats, on the other hand, carried themselves with a mixture of indulgent patience, preternatural grace and, well, prideful regality.

Felix noticed a few passing glances at his ears and tail, which twitched in defiance of his attempt to hide them. His anxiety rose with each passing floor.

What were they staring at? Don’t they have ears and tails of their own? Felix fought the urge to roll his eyes at them.

Finally, the elevator dinged open, and Felix slipped out into the bustling lobby. He kept his head down as he crossed the shiny black-and-gold marble floor, gripping his documents tightly.

The streets outside were a mix of decopunk architecture and futuristic technology. Towering skyscrapers with intricate, golden embellishments loomed above, while sleek silver vehicles zipped through traffic. Felix’s apartment building, Sphinx Tower, stood very near the heart of Mzia where all the important buildings were located.

Felix navigated the streets with the help of the map app on his phone, which occasionally chirped directions at him in a robotic voice. He eventually found his way to the nearest transit stop. A sleek, bullet-shaped silver bus arrived within minutes, its doors sliding open with a soft hiss.

As Felix boarded, he couldn’t help but admire the efficiency. The interior was spacious, with wide windows offering a view of the city. He found a seat near the back and settled in, still adjusting to the bizarre world around him.

It wasn’t long before something caught his eye—a group of children at the front of the bus. They all wore the posh white uniforms of the Ivory Sanctuary with the crest emblazoned on the brooch attached to the lapels. But what caught Felix’s attention was that these children, who looked barely more than six years of age, had fluffy ears and tails peeking out of their otherwise humanoid forms. They chattered and giggled, trailing behind a pretty looking woman who was clearly the teacher or caregiver in charge of them during this outing.

Felix’s stomach sank.

“Wait… kids can’t control their ears and tails?” he whispered to himself, a growing sense of horror dawning on him. “Does that mean…?”

He glanced at his reflection in the window. Despite his best efforts, his ears twitched in rhythm with his rising panic, and the telltale bulge of his tail was visible beneath his hoodie.

Internally groaning, Felix tried to flatten his ears over his head and awkwardly shifted to sit on his tail. It didn’t help much. He could feel it pressing uncomfortably against his back.

The embarrassment was nearly overwhelming. He imagined the other passengers staring, whispering about the “grown cat who hasn’t mastered basic form control.”

“Great. I’m a walking neon sign that says, ‘noob.’ Might as well hang a banner.”

Felix kept his head down for the rest of the ride, silently praying that no one would comment on his conspicuous appendages. When the bus finally reached his stop, he bolted out the door with a speed that probably confirmed everyone’s suspicions.

The walk to the Pet Bureau gave Felix time to cool off the heat coloring every inch of his fair complexion pink.

“Okay, Felix,” he muttered, clutching the documents to his chest. “Deep breaths. You’re still alive. You’re in a ridiculously privileged position. You’ve got powers—probably. And you’re going to figure this out.”

But the pep talk did little to ease the gnawing anxiety in his chest. As he approached the towering building that housed the Pet Bureau, Felix couldn’t help but feel like he was walking into a final exam for a class he hadn’t studied for.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

For now, though, all he could do was take things one step at a time. And the first step was figuring out how to keep his ears and tail under control.

With a sigh, Felix adjusted his hood once more and squared his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, stepping through the Bureau’s gleaming glass doors.

AN: Thank you to those who gave this little story a chance! Please continue to let me know what you think! I enjoy hearing speculations, ideas, even wishes on what readers might want to see more of!

By the time Felix finally managed to return to his humanoid form, the sky outside had turned into a curtain of deep indigo streaked with glowing city lights. Though the victory of his return to a humanoid appearance took a bit of a nosedive when he noticed the “souvenirs” left behind through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room—most notably, the ears and tail. Despite his best efforts, the silky white cat ears stubbornly peeked out from his silvery mane, twitching every now and then with an annoyingly lifelike vigor. Meanwhile, the plume-like tail continued to swish restlessly behind him.

“This is just great,” Felix glared at his reflection in the glossy windows before muttering again through gritted teeth, “Okay, just focus again. No ears. No tail. Just be…normal. Come on!”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

He clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut in concentration for the nth time.

After several more moments of grunting, straining, and focusing as hard as he could (complete with several butchered yoga poses that would’ve looked ridiculous to anyone watching) he gave up. Dropping to the floor in a dramatic sprawl, he rested his cheek on the plush carpet, staring at his reflection in a daze.

“This is the worst,” he grumbled to no one in particular.

The ears flicked irritably at him, as if in a mocking response. Rolling his eyes, Felix turned over to face the other way, tail curling around him like an overly fluffy boa.

After a few minutes of staring defeated at nothing in particular, Felix noticed the corner of a messy stack of papers poking out from beneath the coffee table he was facing. As the only thing that was not meticulously organized in this apartment, his curiosity was instantly piqued. So he stretched a hand out to grab the stack, his tail swishing idly behind him. As he pulled the papers into view, he immediately noticed two cards clipped neatly at the top. 

The first was a sleek student ID labeled with the words Ivory Sanctuary in script and under it a green crest with motifs of lion-headed serpents, white roses and green pines. On the back was his photo and name along with the years 2006-2024, supposedly the amount of time he had been there. And the second was an official city ID for Mzia that was made of a strange material, transparent and hard like crystal, embossed with a shimmering gold insignia that gave Felix various helpful knowledge.

Name: Felix Bloodstone
Species: Felimorphus daemonica
Address: 700 Sphinx Tower Apt. 33B, Mzia Capital, Mzia
Regal One Power Rank: A-level

The events of the morning replayed in his mind, each strange detail weaving a tapestry that made up this bizarre new reality. The unfamiliar body. The surreal voice message and call. The peculiar apartment. The city outside.

“Okay, well if it isn’t any clearer this is no longer Earth,” he muttered, flipping through the documents. “Now let’s see what sort of mess this world’s ‘Felix Bloodstone’ has left me in.”

His attention was quickly drawn to the profiles beneath the IDs. Each one was accompanied by a professional headshot of a human, their names printed in bold letters at the top.

“Wait a second…” Felix’s eyes narrowed as he shuffled through the papers. “Are these…my pets?”

He skimmed the first page, his eyebrows climbing higher with every line.

Profile 1: Virgil St. Lilith

Age: 22
Gender: Male
Height: 181cm
Weight: 67kg
Blood Type: AB

“Highly intelligent but socially challenged. Excels in strategy and logical reasoning. Known for a sharp wit, but prone to laziness and the occasional ‘morbid tendencies.’”

The photo featured a smiling man with sharp, angular features framed by wavy chocolate brown hair and narrow eyes the color of whiskey. The smile did not reach his eyes.

“Morbid tendencies? What does that even mean?” Felix muttered, squinting at the paper. He leaned in closer, as if the photo might somehow reveal the answer. “Does he spend his free time brooding over existential crises or something?”

He flipped the page over, half-expecting to find additional notes about Virgil’s hobbies, maybe something ominous like “collecting cursed objects” or “writing haikus about death.” Instead, there was just more bureaucratic jargon.

Felix sighed and glanced back at the profile. The smile in the photo was unsettling in its precision, as if it had been constructed for the camera rather than offered naturally.

“That’s not a ‘happy to be here’ smile,” Felix said, holding up the paper to the light as if inspecting it for hidden subtext. “That’s a ‘you’re already losing at chess and don’t even know it’ smile.”

Despite the sardonic tone of his thoughts, Felix felt a flicker of genuine curiosity. Strategy and logical reasoning were undeniably useful traits, especially in a world as dangerous as this one. If nothing else, having someone who could think ten steps ahead might be a blessing in disguise.

On the other hand, laziness and morbid tendencies sounded like a recipe for sarcasm, dark humor, and absolutely no help when dishes needed to be done.

Felix rested the profile back on the coffee table, shaking his head. “Well, at least he looks like he could star in a noir film,” he mused. “Maybe I’ll call him ‘Detective Whiskey Eyes.’”

Before moving on to the next page, Felix couldn’t help but mutter to himself. “Note to self: don’t leave sharp objects lying around with this one. Who knows what he might do…or write.”

Profile 2: Sorath Ariel Goodwine

Age: 21
Gender: Male
Height: 185cm
Weight: 71kg
Blood Type: B

“Charismatic and quick-witted. Displays a natural talent for cooking, grooming, and creative endeavors. Prone to bending rules and evading formal structures.”

The photo depicted a smirking man with striking good looks, shoulder length black curls that was artfully disheveled, and pale blue eyes that stood out against an olive complexion. He exuded a roguish charm that practically leapt off the page.

“Charismatic and quick-witted,” Felix read aloud, leaning back into the couch. “Okay, so he’s the guy who talks his way out of trouble.” His gaze darted back to the photo, and he raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Or into it, judging by that smirk.”

He scanned further down the page. “Displays a natural talent for cooking, grooming, and creative endeavors.”

“Well, that’s promising,” Felix muttered. “At least I won’t have to subsist on only milk and tuna.” He certainly didn’t know how to cook. Any self-respecting college boy lived on take-out and frozen food.

But as he continued reading, his optimism wavered. ‘Prone to bending rules and evading formal structures.’

“Ah, there it is.” Felix snorted. “Of course, the one guy who can cook is also the guy who’s going to be a complete nightmare to control. Why does he sound like the type who’d steal my credit card and max it out on a whim?”

He glanced at the photo again. Those pale blue eyes seemed to twinkle with amusement, as if the man was already laughing at him. “Peachy. I can feel the chaos radiating off him through the paper.”

Felix sighed, running a hand through his hair—and pausing briefly when his fingers brushed one of his stubborn cat ears. “Knowing my luck, he’ll probably charm his way out of every mess he causes. And I’ll be the one left cleaning it up.”

“Well,” Felix said with a resigned shrug, setting the profile back on the coffee table. “Here’s hoping his cooking skills are worth the headaches he’s clearly going to give me.”

He hesitated, then added under his breath, “And that he doesn’t burn the kitchen down before I figure out how to turn on the fire suppression system.”

Profile 3: Thel Malvolio Rosary

Age: 20
Gender: Male
Height: 191cm
Weight: 80kg
Blood Type: O

“Ambitious and disciplined. A top graduate from the Ivory Sanctuary of Mzia’s attached secondary school for humans. Has strong leadership skills and work ethic but may show symptoms of a superiority complex.”

The photo showed a classically handsome young man, with black coiffed curls neatly parted to the side, pale skin and carnelian eyes. His piercing gaze and upright posture gave off the air of someone who was quite judgmental and also took himself way too seriously.

Felix read the profile twice, then a third time, as if expecting the text to change into something less…daunting. His silvery-white ears twitched in disbelief, and his tail, which had been lazily draped over his lap, gave an irritable flick.

“Superiority complex?” he muttered, leaning closer to the paper. “Well, that’s just perfect. This guy’s not only ambitious and disciplined—he’s also probably going to judge my every move making sure I’m being the best ‘owner’ I can be.”

He could already picture the looming presence of this dominating CEO wannabe in the apartment: perfectly organized, perfectly punctual, and perfectly intimidating. Just looking at the photo, those carnelian eyes practically drilled into him, filled with an intensity that made Felix feel like he’d already failed some unspoken test. The man’s perfectly coiffed hair and upright posture screamed “high expectations.”

“Oh, fuck,” Felix said, throwing up his hands. “A judgmental overachiever. I can already hear the condescending sighs every time I mess something up.” He shook his head, mimicking an exaggeratedly snide voice. “‘Honestly, and you call yourself a grown man—um, cat—how do you even function?’”

There was one last page, and Felix prayed for a simple character. Three difficult personalities were already too much for him to handle. Unfortunately, his prayers fell on deaf ears.

Profile 4: Albrecht Thierry Luce Fitzgerald

Age: 22
Gender: Male
Height: 189cm
Weight: 78kg
Blood Type: O

“Optimistic and determined. Dreams of finding the ‘perfect owner’ and believes in the power of wealth. Dislikes rejection and can be proud and boastful.”

“Oh,” Felix said, dragging the word out as he read the description aloud. He paused, staring at the paper. “Proud and boastful? You don’t say. That grin alone looks like it could power an entire city.”

The man in the image practically radiated confidence—or maybe it was overconfidence. His perfectly combed blonde hair shimmered like gold under the camera’s light, and his wide, toothy grin seemed less friendly and more…challenging. As if he knew some joke Felix wasn’t in on. The way his chin tilted upward, combined with the glint in his clear green eyes, screamed: Look at me, I’m the main character of life, and you’re just here to admire me.

Felix set the documents down and leaned back, rubbing his temples. “So, let me get this straight. This guy is basically a walking ego who’s out here hunting for his dream cat. Wonderful. Just wonderful. And what happens if I’m not his idea of perfect? Does he pack up his gold hair and sparkly smile and walk out?”

He glanced back at the photo and groaned. “And what’s with that smile? Who smiles like that? It’s not even a normal smile—it’s like he’s trying to sell me life insurance or something. Bet he practices it in the mirror every morning. ‘Hello, my name’s Albrecht ‘Pompous Names’ Fitzgerald, and I’m better than you in every conceivable way. Ask me how!’”

His tail slapped the couch as he leaped upward to pace in a frazzled manner. “He believes in the power of wealth? What does that even mean? Is he out here solving all his problems by throwing money at them? Because let me tell you, buddy, I have a lot of problems, and I don’t think your sparkling personality or a sack of cash is going to fix them.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

But gradually Felix slowed down, and as if trying to convince himself, he muttered, “Optimistic and determined, huh? Alright, I guess there are worse traits to have. At least he’s not going to be moping around all day. And maybe that arrogance is just confidence taken up a notch. Maybe he’s…encouraging or something.”

Felix moved over to the couch and shuffled the documents into a neat stack, placing them on the coffee table in clear sight so he doesn’t forget them tomorrow, uh, this morning. Then he reached up and clutched at his cat ears, letting out a long, pained groan. 

“Just why did the original me choose these guys?!”

AN: This is a product of a tentacle wielding plot bunny. Please let me know what you think! I enjoy hearing speculations, ideas, even wishes on what readers might want to see more of!