For the eighth consecutive night, Tokyo residents witnessed the same terrifying spectacle… a blazing meteorite tearing across the sky and crashing into the city.
When the flames finally died down at the latest impact site, rescue teams discovered an entire squad of Onmyōji sprawled across the ground… blood staining their lips and robes.
Some lay unconscious, others sat upright with hollow, unfocused eyes, as if their spirits had been ripped away.
Within hours, rumors spread through the city. Some whispered, "The Onmyōji summoned the meteorites! It's an attack!"
"No, they're fighting demons! This is an exorcism gone wrong!" Others claimed,
A third group muttered darkly, "The demon they sealed centuries ago has broken free… the meteorites are its doing."
One drunk swore he had seen a black, clawed demon steal a golden ring straight from his pocket. Since he was swaying while telling the story, everyone dismissed it as alcohol-induced nonsense.
Still, the image lingered.
The worst part for the public, however, was that even the Yasukuni Shrine's toilets were not spared.
A massive meteorite obliterated the restroom building entirely. Thankfully, aside from a few bruised priests and guards, there were no casualties.
By the next morning, panic threatened to overwhelm the city.
Officials quickly issued statements dismissing the rumors.
"No demons. No Onmyōji don't exist. No supernatural threats. Just a series of coincidental meteor showers."
The public reluctantly accepted the government explanation… all except the drunk, who doubled down on his story, founded the 'Claw Demon Church,' and was promptly placed in a psychiatric ward two days later.
…
While the public calmed down, another storm raged in a conference room deep within the government complex.
Representatives of the Military Department and the Onmyōji Bureau faced each other across a long table.
It would have been a respectable meeting…
If half the Onmyōji weren't wrapped in bandages from head to toe, coughing as though blessed by death itself, with one of them sporting a suspicious bandage over his crotch.
A military official slammed his fist onto the table. "You idiots! Aren't you supposed to be masters of magic?"
"How did you end up like this? And more importantly, our GOLD! Where is our gold?!"
The Onmyōji shifted guiltily, but pride kept their backs stiff.
"It was an ancient dragon," One snapped. "Even we cannot defeat such a creature alone. Ordinary soldiers? Hah!"
"You could send tens of thousands and still fall short! We warned you before. We asked for funds to track it to the West and eliminate it, but you refused!"
Another table slap followed.
"Baka! Excuses! Because of your failure, our vault is destroyed and our gold is gone! Do you understand what this means for the Empire's future?!"
The lead Onmyōji leaned forward and slammed his own hand onto the table.
"Baka yourself! If you had approved our request earlier, we would've found the dragon's lair and set up a grand sealing formation!"
"We could have killed it and recovered even more treasure!"
"…What?" The military side blinked.
The Onmyōji nodded vigorously. "Ancient dragons hoard treasure. Mountains of it! If we defeated it, our gold loss would be nothing."
A pause.
The boasting Onmyōji suddenly coughed, and added weakly, "…If we could defeat it."
The military officers exchanged looks. They were angry, yes.
But not stupid.
They had just realized something important. The Onmyōji weren't telling the whole truth.
"Bastards! You're nothing but frauds!"
The military official roared, slamming his hand on the table so hard the tea cups jumped.
"I'll report you to the Prime Minister! I'll have all you swindling Onmyōji thrown out!"
"Ignorant fool!" an Onmyōji snapped back.
They were bleeding, bruised, bandaged everywhere… but their pride remained unbreakable.
Once their scam had been exposed and someone needed to take the blame, the discussion devolved into an all-out brawl.
By the end of the 'meeting'
4 Onmyōji were shot,
3 were critically injured,
3 had mental breakdowns,
and one unlucky soul was found completely drained of blood.
In the aftermath, a higher-up who absolutely didn't want trouble made a decision…
Blame the one who wouldn't live to see sunrise.
Thus, the military and the Onmyōji reconciled once again… smiling, bowing, and pretending to be close allies.
Was this a sign of improving relations? Of course not, the grudge only grew deeper.
Soon, rumors spread across various battlefields.
Onmyōji 'accidentally' killed by friendly fire.
Onmyōji miscasting spells and blowing up their own side. Onmyōji disappearing under mysterious circumstances.
Eventually, the world got used to Japan's frequent 'Onmyōji accidents.'
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
Meanwhile… in Carter Manor's Barn
Far away from the chaos, the greatest treasures had already changed hands.
In a quiet barn, Garfield and Niffler sat surrounded by piles of glowing, freshly-refined gold bricks… each one imprinted with a tiny cat's claw.
After a week of nonstop work, the gold of a country had become… cat-themed bullion.
"Boss, you gave me so much this time," Niffler chirped happily, hugging a brick.
"But I didn't actually do anything!"
Garfield smacked him gently on the head. "Nonsense. I used spells to restrain those fools. You stole the gold."
"We divided the labor and everyone wins. Take your share, we'll work together again."
Niffler beamed. Garfield handed him a small cloth pouch enchanted with a stretching charm.
Inside was Niffler's reward, far more than it looked.
As for Garfield's own haul?
No one knew the full amount… except that he now had multiple stretchable belts, each large enough to hold an entire house.
…
Decades later, during a storm at sea, a transport ship from the island nation lost a crate of documents.
One file washed ashore and entered the collectors' market.
When the contents were revealed, the world was stunned… In late 1920's, Japan had mysteriously lost nearly 80% of its national gold reserves.
The government instantly declared the documents 'fabricated and malicious.'
and merely an attempt to 'slander the nation and hide its intentions back then.'
No one believed them.
…
After finishing the 'labor division,' Garfield cleaned the barn, set up his camera, and started a livestream titled.
LET'S GET HIGH TOGETHER WITH ME!
He flicked his wand, casting a spell that caused DJ to faint dramatically.
A beat dropped.
Then the barn shook as Garfield summoned all the animals of Carter Kingdom.
Cows, horses, sheep, chickens, even mice all swayed rhythmically to the music.
The livestream exploded instantly.
'COME!'
'FIRST!'
'BROTHER I'M HERE'
'SISTER ENTERED THE CHAT
'Wait is this… a LIVE DJ?'
'How did Garfield drag his whole kingdom into this?!'
'Isn't this supposed to be a story of two cats??'
'This beat GOES HARD.'
'I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE.'
'I'M SINGING ALONG.'
'SWING!'
'HEY GUYS YOYO'
And then, as if controlled by the rhythm itself.
Foreign viewers who had never experienced true cultural shock were spamming comments at light speed.
'Bro, what song is this?!'
'I'm getting emotional, man.'
'This slaps way too hard.'
'I hope our DJs take notes.'
'Century Fox is gonna sue for being too rich.'
And then the chat collectively realized something that should've been obvious.
Because of Garfield's global livestream, the value of two things had skyrocketed into the stratosphere.
Orange cats.
And Garfield Devouring-Beast action figures.
Shelters everywhere were being emptied by people hoping their new orange cat might unlock DJ mode and perform rural TikTok dances.
Toy stores were being raided like loot dungeons. Economists cried and investors celebrated.
Meanwhile, in the barn, Garfield had been blasting music for hours, the animals dancing until their hooves, claws, and talons were numb.
Finally, he flicked off the speakers. "Alright, my people. Party's over. Go do your things."
At once, the animals dropped to their knees, led by Carl.
"Congratulations to His Majesty, King Garfield!"
Garfield accepted the worship with the lazy grace of someone who considered divine rulership slightly less important than naptime.
The animals scattered, and Garfield dragged Niffler through a swirling portal to Newt's house.
Inside, he stopped… a round silhouette stood in the middle of the room.
Garfield rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Why on earth was Jacob here? And more importantly… did he bring snacks?
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
Phantom your way through a treasure trove of chapters waiting on P@treon!
PhantomDream