Almost a week after returning from my mission, I had prepared myself for all possibilities: the "toy room" being empty, completely renovated, or even reassigned. To my surprise, not much had changed. The "toys" and the cats remained as they were.
From my game inventory, I [took out] the white-haired, blue-eyed cat. I then [equipped] my voice-modulating device and asked the "toy" if anything special had happened during my absence.
"The only thing out of the ordinary was the concern shown for the cats. Quite a few related questions were asked, and then I was shown the notes I prepared," he said. "I answered them fluently. They also knew you genuinely liked animals, so they didn't make things particularly difficult for me."
While listening to his report, I flipped through the notes he mentioned. They contained his transcribed cat-care reminders and a summary of daily cat-care tasks. His handwriting was neat and the organization was clear, which somewhat surprised me. I recalled his self-introduction during the interview: he was an orphan. His adoptive parents had died when he was ten, and their medical expenses had nearly depleted the family's fortune. With no money left, he had worked various jobs to survive.
I didn't ask him about his past with his former owner. It wasn't important, nor were other details. I didn't care about his life.
"Do you want to know more about my past?" he asked, noticing me looking at him.
According to the original setting, there was no shortage of intelligent characters in this world. A character's intelligence had absolutely nothing to do with their appearance.
Extras and decoys weren't necessarily mindless characters; they could potentially be traps for me.
This was so troublesome. I missed comedy genres.
I shook my head. After I finished my questions, he automatically went to the bathroom to wait.
The bathroom door was no longer closed. The cats would scratch at it when they couldn't see him, but they wouldn't do that to me. The cats weren't stupid; they knew who their real mother was and who treated them best. This was the drawback of absent parenting.
No, I wasn't bothered. Truly, it was enough that I could pet all sorts of cats to my heart's content.
It wasn't just the bathroom door that had changed. Afterwards, I started experiencing hallucinations. As I recalled, the sudden knocking sound at night should have been the beginning of all the hallucinations. In ghost legends, opening the door upon hearing a knock signifies an invitation, accepting all comers.
At that moment, I looked at the empty doorway. Based on common sense from the "real world," the first possibility I considered was a prank. But this was the Zoldyck family's main residence; who would play such a prank? Killua and the others were well-behaved and incapable of such actions. The surveillance cameras nearby had been removed, making it impossible to review footage.
Wait, before that, I hadn't sensed anyone's presence.
I chose to open the door because my confidence in the Zoldyck mansion's security was too high, and my guard had unconsciously dropped. Using "Gyo," I glanced back at the "toy." As I went to open the door, he emerged from the bathroom and stopped about two meters away from me. The state of his "aura" was no different from that of an ordinary person, and there were no other suspicious signs.
Retracting my gaze, I stepped out of the "toy room." The hallway was deserted and extremely quiet, with only the sound of our breathing and...
The cats' voices.
I picked up the small cat that had followed me out of the room. This blue-gray kitten was the most energetic and had a strong desire to explore the outside world. Every time I left the "toy room," it tried to sneak out.
After thoroughly rubbing its fluffy little head, I carried it back into the "toy room" and closed the door casually.
The sensible "toy" wouldn't say much. He offered no opinions or questions, simply standing in place, awaiting my orders. I waved him away, telling him to return to the bathroom.
At that time, I felt that the "toy's" expression was a bit strange, hard to describe, very subtle. I assumed he was suppressing his curiosity, so I didn't pay it much mind.
Would the subsequent events change if I had asked?
History cannot be hypothesized; there are no "what ifs."
Then, I went to bed with the white-haired, blue-eyed cat. That night, I slept exceptionally restlessly. The cat in my arms, perhaps sensing this, gently licked my cheek.
Closing my eyes, I nuzzled the cat in my arms. The soft fur brushed against my left cheek. Suddenly, I realized that it was my right cheek that had been licked.
Perhaps it was another cat? After all, more than one cat liked to jump on the bed to sleep, though this one in my arms was my favorite to cuddle with.
Thinking this, I was licked on the ear this time. I hadn't intended to make a fuss, but when my earlobe was playfully nibbled, a sense of unease washed over me, and I raised my hand to shoo it away. Cats are agile hunters; the moment I moved, it released its teeth, causing my swipe to miss.
Sitting up, I strongly suspected that the blue-gray kitten was trying to get revenge on me. Cats are vengeful creatures. I had repeatedly prevented it from exploring outside; in its eyes, I must have been a terrible villain.
Not wanting to wake the innocent cats sleeping at my feet, I sighed inwardly and lay back down.
In the darkness, a cat crept under the covers from behind me. Its fine fur brushed against my neck, feeling a bit cool. I ignored it, letting its tail rest on my waist. I continued to sleep, hugging my favorite cat.
When I woke up in the morning, only one cat remained in my arms and one at my feet. Cats, like people, have their own personalities. Some cats are proud; even if they want affection, they won't lower their royal feline dignity.
[Taking out] cat food, I filled the bowls. The two most energetic cats, the orange and the calico, heard the sound and immediately ran over, burying their heads in the food impatiently.
I tapped a few times on the bathroom door. The "toy," who had been sleeping by the door, startled awake. With sleepy, half-open eyes, he stood up and bowed his head to me.
Full of flaws, with ragged breathing, he looked like an ordinary person. I could kill him without expending any effort.
The knocking from last night still bothered me. Applying a famous method of deduction, I thought, perhaps by getting rid of the "toy," I could eliminate him as a suspect.
A soft touch brushed my ankle. I looked down. The black and white cat walked past me, rubbing its head against the "toy's" leg. The "toy" picked it up and scratched its chin. It closed its eyes in satisfaction, emitting a "purr purr" sound from its throat.
While petting the cat in his arms, the "toy" checked the other cats' eyes, noses, ears, mouths, and rear ends one by one. I knew he was following the notes to perform his daily confirmation of the cats' health status.
Raising a whole litter of kittens based solely on book knowledge is likely not easy. I didn't know if he had encountered difficulties raising the cats in the past, as all the "toy's" needs were handled by the butler in charge. I only needed to enjoy the results. The "toy" was a "professional." He was more perceptive than I was, clearly understanding his position. Besides executing my orders, he did nothing superfluous. Without self-important fawning, he diligently served as a background character and tool, staying in his place.
It was rare to have such an easygoing tool. If I were to suddenly eliminate him, and the next one to arrive was a seductive, scheming, high-ranking Zoldyck agent, the thought alone was troublesome. I didn't want to invest my limited life in endless family feuds.
The "toy" began cleaning the litter boxes. I was still wearing yesterday's clothes. I needed to change into a new set before leaving the "toy room," so I went into the bathroom, closed the door, and prepared to take a shower.
As soon as I [removed] my outermost layer of clothing, the bathroom door suddenly opened. I quickly walked over and pulled the slightly ajar door fully open. The "toy" was squatting in the living room, diligently cleaning the litter box, with three cats surrounding him. One of them was biting his pant leg.
Was the door lock broken?
I checked the door lock and hinges but found no issues.
Returning to the bathroom, I locked the door, tried to pull it, and turned the doorknob. The lock was firm; the door didn't budge.
Could it be that I wasn't paying attention and didn't close the door properly?
Perhaps.
[Removing] all the clothes marked "equipped" from my game inventory, the remaining underwear wasn't marked and couldn't be accessed with the game inventory function. I had to take them off manually.
Just as I was about to unfasten my bra, the shower suddenly turned on, and water gushed from the showerhead onto the floor. Seeing the shower switch in the "on" position at a glance, I didn't think much of it. I reached out and reset the shower switch, and the showerhead immediately stopped spraying water. It seemed the shower switch was still functional.
What was going on? I pondered for a few seconds, but no conclusion was reached. It wasn't a major issue anyway. I could ask the "toy" to inform the butler about the maintenance later.
Money truly made things good. In the "real world," I would definitely wait until something was completely broken and unusable before grudgingly spending money to hire a repairman.
[Picking up] the discarded underwear into my game inventory, I turned on the shower switch and adjusted the water temperature to the most comfortable level. Ah, having hot water twenty-four hours a day felt wonderful. Praise the Zoldycks!
Closing my eyes to enjoy the gentle water, my mood finally brightened a bit. The water flow gradually decreased, and then... it stopped.
Huh?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Kikyo!
Do the Zoldycks also experience water outages?!
Is it water rationing on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, with intermittent supply on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays?!
Wiping the water from my face, I opened my eyes and saw that the shower switch was in the "off" position.
Turning the shower switch on, water flowed again.
Observing the shower switch with "Gyo," I found no anomalies.
"..." The water hitting my shoulder suddenly seemed no longer warm.
Um, if it can't be explained by Nen, am I encountering a legendary supernatural phenomenon?
According to "real world" concepts, women are Yin, and men are Yang. Could it be that I've been single for too long and have an excess of Yin energy, attracting something strange?
Come to think of it, as the stronghold of generations of professional assassins, the Zoldyck family must have countless vengeful spirits. Aside from me and Kikyo, everyone else in the Zoldyck family is male, brimming with Yang energy and not worried about being affected by ghosts or spirits. Kikyo has Silva to supplement her Yang, so she's fine. I, a single dog, have insufficient Yang, which is why Kikyo gave me a toy? Does it have such a profound meaning?!
Although I found it utterly ridiculous, fantastical, and absurd, my worldview was profoundly shaken.
Hastily finishing my shower, I wrapped myself in a towel and [took out] a hair-drying towel to wipe my hair.
As I was drying my hair, a handprint suddenly appeared on the mirror, which was fogged with moisture, causing my hair to stand on end.
"..." What kind of classic horror movie development is this?
Will the next step be the faucet automatically turning on and blood flowing out?
The handprint on the mirror was about a size larger than my hand, appearing to be a man's hand. Oh, in terms of combat power and terror, female ghosts are generally more frightening.
No, I cannot passively wait for the enemy to attack. Following the horror movie trope, the best way to overcome fear is to face it. Let's go!
Steelling myself, gritting my teeth, I used the hair-drying towel to wipe away the steam from the mirror in one go. According to the horror movie trope, there's a certain chance of seeing the enemy's true appearance at this point.
"..." Besides the most beautiful cat in Mt. Kukuroo, with messy hair, there was nothing else reflected in the mirror.
Hmph, it's a coward, trash, making me overly nervous.
My neck felt a slight pain. I widened my eyes and saw a small red mark on the painful spot. Wiping it with the towel, it wouldn't come off, and the towel showed no trace of red. This red mark wasn't something dyed onto me; it was subcutaneous bruising on my neck.
Although it's just superficial, it could injure me. This ghost thing is quite powerful.
I clenched my fist.
Let's go... Let's go!
"..."
"..."
"..."
My hair wasn't dripping water, so I stopped drying it. [Picking up] the towel, [putting on] a slip, I felt I should go to the living room to replenish my Yang to restore normalcy to my life.
Rushing out of the bathroom towards the "toy," who was organizing cat toys, I moved with agility, avoiding all the cats. I successfully hugged him tightly, burying my head in his chest.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
It was a living person's heartbeat, reassuring.
I knew my actions were too sudden and inexplicable. It was normal for the "toy's" heartbeat to quicken, so I didn't pay attention to his state until he uttered a fearful voice, "W-what's wrong...?"
Alright, the "toy" was just an ordinary person whose appearance was taller than mine. His combat ability was a hundred times weaker than mine. Seeking a sense of security from the "toy" was ridiculous, wasn't it?
No, the "toy" was male, after all. He could be used to supplement my Yang; that was a redeeming quality.
Is it time for that?
After developing in the style of ancient Chinese novels, is it now developing into martial arts novels?
I raised my head, grabbed the "toy's" hand, "..."
Why is there no sound? Ah, I was too hasty; I forgot to [equip] the voice-modulating device.
[Equipping] the device, I solemnly issued a command to the "toy," "I'm going to teach you 'Nen.'"
Once the "toy" learns "Nen" and knows how to control the body's "aura," I can try to "exchange aura" like in martial arts novels, palm-to-palm, for Yin-Yang complementarity.
I've always felt that "Nen" is very similar to Qigong. Perhaps I can surpass Netero's "Mind's Eye," and create a brand-new Nen ability school?
How about calling it the "Moist School"? It sounds quite good.
Although there are also those indescribable dual cultivation methods, the "toy" is too weak. I feel like he would die halfway through... No, the point is, where would worldly desires come from in a horror movie? My hands and feet are already cold! I'm afraid only when the Zoldyck family bosses appear can I feel a little secure.
We both aim for the same destination. In any case, I need him to strengthen himself quickly. "Nen" is the best shortcut.
The "toy" didn't reply, looking stunned, as if saying, "I don't understand, but I'm deeply shocked."
There are two ways to awaken "Nen": one is natural awakening, which requires long-term comprehension; the other is forced awakening, which is immediately effective, but those with insufficient talent will die on the spot.
Can I wait for natural awakening?
In the original work, even Zhixi, who was a genius of ordinary level, required half a year. How long would it take for other characters who are not geniuses?
I decided to have the "toy" forcibly awaken.
His luck wasn't good enough.
Before his "aura," which is essentially life energy, could be completely depleted, the "toy" failed to learn "Ren," unable to retain the constantly dispersing "aura." His body gradually lost warmth and became cold.
He died.
He died quickly and easily, much like the goldfish I poured hot water on in the "real world" when I was little. Before I could observe it further, it became motionless.
Placing the dead goldfish back into the fish tank, I panicked, my heart pounding.
Actually, I didn't intend to kill it. I just wanted to see what would happen when it was exposed to hot water.
But it died.
Goldfish are not easy to keep. I had already killed several before. A sudden death wasn't unusual, and I concealed the cause of its death. No one suspected me.
Dad placed the goldfish on the chopping board and said it could be eaten so as not to waste it.
Mom said, "Can this be eaten? It sounds disgusting," and threw the goldfish into the trash.
"Oh, it's alright, Muriel. Mom will get you a new one." Just like facing the dead goldfish, Kikyo didn't ask me about the "toy's" cause of death. She turned and instructed the butler, "Go clean it up."
"...Those cats." I quickly reminded her.
"I know, leave the cats." Kikyo gave me a smile and gently stroked my head. "For your next toy, what kind would you like, Muriel?"