523 Dreaming ? (1/2)

A blue-eyed blond entered a separate clearing in the underground space.

It was Michael.

He cradled a chubby ginger cat in his arms. The cat was curled up comfortably. His eyes were covered by bank notes. His lips were shaped into a blissful smile. Even from afar, anyone could tell that the cat was Matcha.

Michael and Matcha were not alone. William walked next to them as they headed into another tunnel.

He turned to Michael and asked, ”What about my debt?”

”You don't have to worry about that, Captain Johnson. $1.5 million is spare change to me,” Michael said, flashing him a charming smile while he stroke Matcha's back, ”As long as you complete your next mission, that money is yours. No, in fact, let's make it $2 million.”

William, who looked quite a sorry state in his prisoner's uniform, looked up from his hands to the man next to him.

”Why exactly is Star Cats here?” he wondered aloud.

The corner of Michael's lips curled.

”Well,” he started, ”Our original target had been the God of Death. Unfortunately, that man's sense of caution borders absolute paranoia. Even if we planted the meteorite at his feet, he would never let his supercat touch it. He would rather be safe than let his cat level up.”

William let out a breath he did not know he was holding. ”The God of Death's power can be leveled up? How? By increasing the number of people he can control?”

”Why not?” Michael said promptly, ”Supercats were evolved from normal cats. It would not be unreasonable to expect that the meteorite will help them evolve their powers. I'm sure you've known about this for a while.”

”However, some of the higher-ups believe that the God of Death's evolution would not be so simple. It would not allow him to just control even more people,” Michael continued, ”Instead, they believe that he would be able to control apostles in his next form. The likelihood of this happening is small, but it is not impossible. This is why he is at the top of our list right now. If we can capture him, control him, and then help him level up, he would come in very handy in our future plans.”

William nodded half-heartedly. He did not want to imagine the kind of atrocities that Star Cats would commit if they ever had the God of Death in their control.

He let out another deep breath before saying, ”That doesn't explain why you've come to the Cat King of the West's prison.”

”As I said before, the God of Death is a very careful man. However, he is not without ambition. He wants the meteorite. He wants to evolve his cat. All the nonsense about controlling the Cat King of the West, kidnapping supercats, and selling apostles is nothing more than a pretense. His true intention is to lure us here, right where he wants us. Then, he will strike.”

William mulled over this for a moment. As an investigative officer, it did not take long for him to read between the lines.

”The fact that you're here means that you're interested in Cat King, aren't you?” he inferred.

When Michael spoke, he could not hide the excitement in his voice, ”The Cat King of the West is far more formidable than I imagined. I doubt even he himself knows just how powerful he is. It's a terrible waste to confine his abilities here in this sorry prison. He can transform the personality of any person, cat, apostle, or supercat. Compared to combative superpowers, this is much, much more interesting and complex.”

He talked with a sort of deranged fervor that drove William to widen the distance between them. His gaze fell on Matcha.

”And who's that?” he asked.

Michael waved him off casually, ”Don't mind him. I just like carrying him around.”

”Yeah, right,” William thought to himself.

He did not continue to pursue the matter. At the moment, all he cared about was quickly completing the mission Michael had in store for him so he could get the $2 million and return to the United States.

Soon, the two men approached the end of the tunnel, where a white cat was seated motionlessly. The most peculiar thing about this cat was not that it was sitting cross-legged as a human would, but that the hair on his head was clean shaven, revealing small, circular burn marks that were only seen on ordained monks.

William gaped. ”What is he doing?”

”As you can see, the Cat King of the West is a monk,” Michael replied with a full-bodied shrug, ”There's no rule that forbids cat from becoming monks.”

”Okay...” William said, thoroughly unconvinced, ”But aren't monks supposed to be vegetarians? I doubt a cat can survive on a meatless diet.”