Chapter 3
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 3
“Meow?”
Pudding let out an adorable cry. He was so cute I just wanted to scoop him up! So what if he had three eyes? He was utterly charming. I’d given up on ever having a cat in my past life, so I never imagined I’d end up raising one here.
I had intended to get him a proper checkup, but the butler simply brought some holy water and said that was all he needed to drink. What kind of world was this, where holy water cured every infectious disease? If that was the case, why did they kill all the cats in the first place? What was up with the animal ethics in this world?
When I poured the holy water into a bowl, Pudding lapped it up happily. But why did he keep one eye closed? Maybe it was his sheer fluffiness, but he looked just like a normal, two-eyed cat.
Come to think of it, he only ever opened all three of his eyes when he was in front of me. Ah, I guess two eyes was his default setting, and the third one only opened occasionally.
The butler left after confirming that Pudding had finished the holy water. Was that it? Hooray!
“Good boy, drinking your water so well.”
I settled Pudding on my lap and gave him a few affectionate pats on the rear.
* * *
Pudding seemed to view me not as his owner, but as an innkeeper—one that provided free room and board, at that.
He was a free spirit. While I was a total shut-in, Pudding was a social butterfly, roaming outside every day. Still, he always made sure to come back before bed and curl up with me. I didn’t know why a cat would love going for walks so much. Was it because he used to be a stray?
I decided to put a collar on him so he wouldn’t get into trouble while wandering. A maid brought me one made of soft fabric, already embroidered with the crest of the Count’s house. She suggested I embroider Pudding’s name on it myself, mentioning that the original Evangeline had apparently been quite skilled at needlework.
The problem was, not only was I illiterate, but I didn't know the first thing about embroidery.
Before I could even think of an excuse, the maid handed it over and bolted.
Even the maid I’d asked to buy me an alphabet book hadn't shown up for days. She’d said it would only take a day; she must have been withholding it on purpose.
Since the servants were always trembling around me, I’d thought I was some kind of power-tripping villainess, but it seemed there was a hidden setting where I was actually being subtly bullied. Then again, in recent RoFan novels, even the villainesses get bullied a lot. That’s why when people possess them, they usually start by slapping faces to establish dominance. Of course, I hadn't hit anyone.
“I’m sorry I’m such a pathetic owner that I can’t even write your name…”
I needed to learn the language as soon as possible. This low-effort transmigration was just too much.
* * *
When I woke up the next morning, I could suddenly read.
What was this? Some kind of delayed perk? If this was a benefit for possessors, they should’ve given it to me sooner! Why only now? I was annoyed, but I decided to look on the bright side—at least I had it now.
Maybe my blubbering about not being able to write my pet’s name had triggered the system. Tears welled in my eyes. Now I could finally read and write Pudding’s name!
I picked up a needle. Since I’d mastered the language, I figured I might have inherited some of Evangeline’s muscle memory for embroidery.
Nope. I hadn't.
The result was disastrous. I’d stitched the word “Pudding,” but it was completely unrecognizable.
Should I throw it away and try again? As I hesitated, Pudding meowed and nudged me, urging me to put the collar on him anyway. What an angel of a cat!
I fastened the collar around his neck. They say you’re a blessed owner if your cat accepts a collar, and Pudding, being naturally gentle, didn't show any resistance. The size was just right, and I’d made the clasp weak just in case. If Pudding pulled hard enough, it would snap right off.
“Do you like it?”
Pudding went over to the mirror to inspect himself. Then, as if satisfied, he let out a soft meow.
It suddenly struck me as odd—Pudding knew how to look in a mirror. Cats in this world were incredibly smart… or was it just that my Pudding was special? Well, obviously, my cat was the best in the world.
* * *
Count Rohanson had fled to his estate.
In truth, it was closer to an escape. He had left in such a hurry that it looked as though he’d fled in the dead of night with nothing but a few changes of clothes. While inside the mansion, he had been paralyzed with fear, claiming that “eyes” were constantly watching him. It wasn't just the Count; a maid named Daisy felt the same way. Now, that maid wouldn't even open her eyes.
When asked if she wanted a letter of recommendation for another household, Daisy had just shaken her head, insisting she wanted to go to a monastery. With her eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped, she looked as if she were in constant prayer. Since the eyes seemed to disappear once she left the mansion, her mind would likely be at peace there.
With the Count absent, the management of the mansion fell to the butler. The Count would handle family affairs from the estate, leaving the butler with only one responsibility: Lady Evangeline.
The elderly butler gazed out the window at the weeping cherry tree. The pale young lady was strolling through the rear garden, a cat trailing behind her. That must be the cat she’d insisted on raising. On the surface, it was a peaceful scene.
But red handprints remained on the butler’s shoulders. Was the cat the young lady was raising truly just an ordinary animal?
His vision blurred. The mansion he had served in his entire life suddenly felt like the inside of a monster’s stomach.
He drew the curtains and sat down. The maid sitting across from him was drinking tea. The hand holding the cup trembled violently, though she seemed better off than Daisy.
“I can hear cats.”
Hena was the maid who had taken over serving Lady Evangeline after Daisy. After what had happened, no one wanted the position, so the wages were raised. Hena, desperate for money, had taken the job. However, it seemed unlikely she could continue for long. The butler looked at the girl with pity.
A perfectly fine girl had returned after a single day with her mind shattered; it would be even harder to find a replacement now.
The butler opened his mouth to say something, but to Hena, his voice sounded like nothing but a cat’s meow. Hena couldn't understand what he was saying, but she spoke up, hoping it was the answer he wanted.
“The young lady asked if there were any cats. I told her they were all dead. We definitely killed them all, so why do I hear them?”
Hena had been one of those who disposed of the carcasses when the cats were culled at the estate. It had been gruesome, but she had volunteered because it paid more. There had been several sacks filled with the still bodies of cats lured by bait. They were all dead, silent. Now, belatedly, they were crying.
The butler couldn't hear any cats. While adding notes to his report for the Count, he asked Hena if she wanted a letter of recommendation. It was a kind offer, but Hena still heard nothing but the sound of wailing cats. The butler wrote something on a piece of paper and held it out. Hena shook her head.
Here, where strange things were happening, it was one thing to say she heard cats. But if she moved elsewhere, she’d surely be treated as a lunatic and fired.
“I’ll keep working. I can’t hear you, but I’ll be fine if I read your lips.”
Hena had a younger sister. For her sick sister’s sake, she had to keep this job.
* * *
A reply arrived from the Count. He was in a panic, telling the butler to feed the cat holy water to see if it was a monster. Holy water hadn't worked on Lady Evangeline, so would it work on a cat? Though skeptical, the butler obeyed his master’s orders. Holy water was incredibly expensive; only nobles could afford to buy it without a second thought.
Hena was aghast when she learned of this. If she had that holy water, her sister would get better. To think they were feeding something so precious to a mere cat.
“Do you want it?”
How long had it been since she’d heard a human voice? Hena spun around, but no one was there. The only other living thing in the room was a cat grooming itself. A cat?
Was that the cat Lady Evangeline was raising?
“I asked you a question. You should answer.”
What?
“You said you wanted that water. You can have it. I’ll tell you how.”
The cat opened its eyes. Three of them stared at Hena.
A monster. It was a monster. Hena turned to run. She had to tell the butler. She had to tell him that Lady Evangeline’s cat was a monster! If she told him, surely she would get a reward.
Then, Hena stopped in her tracks.
A mere reward wouldn't be enough to buy holy water. What did the cat say? That it would tell her how? She pictured her sister, healthy again, running around with a bright smile. She turned back. As if it had known she would, the cat was waiting for her right where it had been.
Hena swapped the holy water just as the cat instructed. She didn't know how it had been prepared, but even the delicate patterns on the vial were identical.
The butler showed no reaction as he watched the cat drink the fake holy water. Only Hena realized the truth: unlike Lady Evangeline, the cat was clearly susceptible to holy water.
After that, the cat would occasionally find Hena and make various requests.
Once, it told her to make the young lady embroider the collar it was going to wear. Fearing the lady’s wrath, Hena had simply handed over the collar and embroidery kit before fleeing. It seemed the young lady really had picked up a needle for the cat. The creature proudly showed off the collar with its messily embroidered name.
The young lady had stitched strange characters on the collar, yet she called the cat Pudding.
Her workday ended after serving the monster-like cat and the terrifying young lady she couldn't even bring herself to look at.
The wages for serving the young lady were incredibly high. There was more than enough left over after covering living expenses for her and her sister. Thanks to that, Hena could splurge on her sister’s favorite treats at the market on her way home.
She’ll love this, won’t she? Hena’s heart melted. Her sister, who had drunk the holy water, was recovering day by day. Just a few days ago, she’d struggled to even eat soup, but now she was constantly clamoring that she was hungry.
When Hena arrived home, her sister was sitting by the door.
“Sister!”
“Were you waiting outside in the cold?”
“I missed you! You worked hard today. Let’s go inside!”
“Alright, alright. Stop clinging to me, Canna.”
Her sister leaped into Hena’s arms. It was a dreamlike moment that made her forget all about the bizarre cat and the scary young lady she served during the day.
Hena knew she had made the right choice in listening to the cat’s proposal. And perhaps because she had stayed in its good graces, she no longer heard the sound of cats crying.