Even though this was just a game, being looked down on by a tiny kitten was still a pretty surreal experience.
Aldric had just been reaching out toward a silver necklace inlaid with sapphires—his thought process being, Well, if the shopkeeper never comes back, I might as well reclaim some of my losses here—but his hand froze midair. He turned his head, only to meet the round, unblinking eyes of a small black kitten curled up in a fluffy ball.
"I've never seen such a cowardly witcher before," the kitten said, its tone brimming with contempt far too old for its tiny body. "You're a disgrace to your profession! Tell me, were you just about to try your hand at thievery?"
Aldric glanced at his outstretched hand, speechless. He forced himself to take a deep breath and reminded himself inwardly: Don't argue with a cat. Even if it talks, it's still a cat.
"I wasn't going to steal anything," he said evenly. "I just wanted to check if there were any magical items here." His gaze slipped past the kitten and began wandering around the jewelry shop again, scanning the trinkets for anything that might have enchantments.
"Foolish human," the kitten hissed, unwilling to let him off. "I've never seen a witcher as stupid as you. Every hunter knows that a witch's shop never displays anything truly magical. All the valuable artifacts are always hidden away by those old crones."
Aldric froze mid-step. "…You mean this is a witch's shop?"
"Obviously."
He exhaled slowly. The little creature was right—everything in sight was purely ornamental. The gold and silver accessories sparkled beautifully, but they were nothing more than mundane merchandise, useless to any player seeking power.
The kitten's round, grape-sized eyes followed Aldric as he picked up a ring, examined it under the light, then set it back down. With a yawn, the little creature drawled, "I know where the old witch hides her treasures. If you beg me, I might tell you."
For two full seconds, Aldric's sense of human dignity wrestled with his gamer instincts. In the end, dignity won—barely. He gave the kitten a withering look that said, You underestimate me, and sat down in the chair by the counter, determined to wait for the witch to return.
The black kitten leapt gracefully off the cushion, landing soundlessly on the wooden floor. With feline elegance, it padded over to Aldric and sprang lightly onto his shoulder. Its whiskers brushed his ear as it whispered, "You know, the witch doesn't easily let outsiders see her collection. But she did say you could look around and pick something you liked. You wouldn't want to waste such a rare chance, would you?"
The whisper was oddly persuasive, and Aldric found himself hesitating. True… she did say I could take something if I liked it. And what gamer doesn't want good gear? The logic felt… impeccable.
"Alright," he said slowly. "You're right. But where exactly is it hidden?"
Under the kitten's guidance, Aldric found a small, ornate metal chest behind the counter. It was composed of multiple stacked drawers, secured with a heavy padlock covered in strange, glowing sigils.
"Look at it," the kitten purred. "Such a beautiful chest. It must be filled with rare and powerful artifacts—treasures collected over centuries. The witch gave you permission to choose what you like, didn't she? That means these could be yours."
Aldric stared at the intricate symbols on the lock. The kitten's words sank into his mind like honeyed poison. She did say I could pick something I liked, he thought. Maybe… maybe my equipment is right here, waiting behind this lock.
A cool sensation suddenly rippled through his chest, snapping him out of the trance. He shivered violently. Wait—what am I doing? I was planning to leave as soon as I paid her! Since when did I decide to rummage through her private belongings?
"What are you waiting for?" the kitten's voice grew sharper, faster, more urgent. "Break the lock! The treasures inside are yours! Centuries of collection—each piece priceless, each one brimming with power! Open it! Open it! Hurry and open it!"
The voice rose into a shrill, inhuman shriek, echoing through the room like the death cry of an old woman.
A wave of nausea and disgust surged through Aldric. His instincts screamed at him that the creature perched on his shoulder—just moments ago a harmless kitten—was wrong. A sickly stench filled the air, a revolting mix of rot, blood, and waste. The odor made his eyes water.
Snarling, Aldric tore the creature off his shoulder and flung it to the floor. In one smooth motion, he drew the short sword he had taken from a fallen enemy, pointing its glowing blade at the writhing black mass.
"What the hell are you?"
The kitten hit the floor with a sickening splatter, melting into a viscous puddle that spread across the floorboards. Tentacles burst from its form, then retracted, replaced by jagged, insect-like limbs. Its once-cute head began to swell grotesquely, skin stretching until nearly transparent. Pale green tissue pulsed within, spurting yellow fluid from ruptured veins and ears. The few patches of fur that remained clung pitifully to its bloated flesh.
The stench grew thicker, choking, almost tangible. The scene before him looked like a nightmare from a biological horror film. Aldric's stomach churned violently as the memory of killing a man for the first time flashed through his mind—the slippery warmth of intestines beneath his fingers.
But beneath the revulsion came something else: hatred. Deep, primal loathing surged through him—the innate hostility of human reason toward the chaotic and unclean. His instincts demanded annihilation. The short sword in his hand began to glow faintly, reacting to the presence of corruption.
The abomination screeched, high-pitched and terrified.
"Enough!"
A powerful gust of wind erupted from the side door. The witch had returned.
Her purple robes flared as she raised one hand, unleashing a burst of arcane force. The creature slammed into the wall with a wet thud. Strange symbols—colorful and glowing—appeared midair as she chanted in an ancient, unknown tongue. They burned into the creature's flesh like brands, and as the air filled with its howls, the extra limbs shriveled away.
Bit by bit, the monstrosity shrank, until once again it was only a trembling black kitten lying weakly on the floor, glaring up at the witch and the witcher with venomous eyes.
Aldric raised his blade again, its edge pointing toward the witch as he took two cautious steps back. "You're keeping a Chaos familiar?" he demanded.
That feeling earlier—there was no mistake. The same nauseating aura of corruption he had sensed before in the mist. His innate gift was reacting again.
The witch, her face still hidden beneath her hood, spoke in her strange, ethereal voice. "Mind your own business, young witcher. Witches have studied the power of Chaos for nearly a thousand years. Did your teacher never tell you that? This horror is bound under my control. It doesn't even have the power to kill a normal human anymore. Its contract with me still has five hundred years left."
"You'll regret this, witch!" the kitten spat, its voice now a hoarse snarl belonging to a grown man.
The witch chuckled softly. "Oh, my dear stupid Chaos Horror, you won't be going anywhere. I still have many experiments to run."
With surprising gentleness, she bent down and lifted the trembling kitten into her arms. Her slender hand brushed the dust from its fur. "You'll stay with me until I've had my fun."
As she turned to leave through the same small door she had come from, the kitten let out a desperate, broken scream: "Kill me, witcher! Isn't it your duty to destroy Chaos? Kill me!"
Aldric's instincts screamed danger—the woman before him was far more terrifying than she appeared. Still, he gave the kitten a sardonic smile and recited an old witcher's creed, partly to repay its earlier insults:
"Though I possess nothing, I still offer my life.
Take these words as your comfort."
The Chaos spawn, now trapped in the body of a tiny kitten, wailed in despair. "You'll both regret this…"
The witch didn't even glance back. With a casual flick of her wrist, she tossed the kitten through the dark doorway. The small creature vanished into the black void, its voice cut off entirely.
Then she turned to Aldric, her tone almost amused. "Didn't expect you to wield such power. Rare indeed. I happen to have something that suits you… though it's broken now. Still, it's better in your hands than gathering dust here. Consider it compensation. Tell your master I didn't bully his apprentice."
With a sweep of her hand, a heavy pouch and a dark, charred pendant flew toward him. Before Aldric could react, a violent gust of wind hurled him backward through the door. The ornate entrance slammed shut behind him with a boom.
Lying dazed in the street, Aldric looked down at the strange pendant in his palm. Its shape was peculiar, the surface etched with faint, pulsing lines of light.
This… this looks like…
(End of Chapter)