Chapter 54: Kittens, Fruit Fragrance, and Mischief

Reuniting after more than a year, Ethan felt that Lucky seemed a bit overly clingy.

As he had done previously, he fetched two quilts and drew a line right down the center of the bed. The bed provided by the apartment was much larger and far softer than the temporary lodgings at the guild, giving Lucky plenty of room to stretch out and move about. Yet, the ragdoll cat was far from satisfied. Once the gas lamp was blown out, Lucky lifted her paw and gently scratched his back.

When Ethan turned around, he saw Lucky reaching out both paws toward him, her ruby-red cat eyes gleaming brightly in the moonlight.

She wanted a hug to help her fall asleep.

The cat made her demand.

Ethan felt a mild sense of helplessness. Could it be that Lucky was actually prone to loneliness?

Despite his thoughts, he complied.

The cat’s body was remarkably soft, and her pure white fur felt slightly cool against his skin. Finally, she closed her eyes with a sense of relief, her eyelids fluttering gently.

Ethan caught a whiff of some exotic, fruity fragrance. Eager to identify the exact scent of the fruit, he brought his nose closer, but Lucky cracked one eye open and suddenly pressed her head forward.

Ethan successfully got a whiff of the top of the cat's head, which meant his lips naturally brushed against Lucky's forehead.

Having succeeded in her little mischief, the cat gave Ethan a mouthful of fur.

Lucky laughed with absolute delight, her embraced body trembling with suppressed mirth.

In the end, Ethan never figured out what kind of fruit she smelled like.

Even so, for the first time in a long while, he enjoyed a sound, deeply restful sleep.

Early the next morning, Ethan’s family of three was jolted awake by a commotion coming from the living room. Following a dull thud came a man’s groan of agony: "My lower back, ugh—!"

Miss Chloe was the first to rush out of the room, and the sight that greeted her was Hagrid tumbling from the sofa onto the floor, clutching his aching lower back in agony.

For someone as broad-shouldered and heavily built as Hagrid, the sofa was indeed a bit too small.

"Wait, give me a moment to recover. The armor dug right into my spine, ouch!"

By the time Ethan emerged, Hagrid’s brows were knitted tightly in pain, proving through personal experience the hazards of sleeping in one's armor at night. Kind-hearted Miss Chloe trotted into the kitchen with pattering steps and brought back a piece of hard bread to comfort Hagrid.

However, as the old saying goes, misfortunes never come singly. Just as Hagrid was nursing a hangover-induced headache while supporting his battered lower back, Ivy brought even worse news.

The vanguard of the expeditionary force was set to arrive in Riverwood that very afternoon. Baron Gleitín wanted their captain of the guard—Hagrid, who had once aspired to join the royal army—to escort them throughout their visit. Yet, looking at Hagrid’s current state, his presence would mostly bring shame to the town. Walking with a hand pressed to his back and dragging his feet with every step, he would inevitably leave the envoys from the imperial capital with the terrible impression that the town's garrison was nothing more than a bunch of useless drunkards.

"Brother Ethan—!"

Hagrid’s eyes welled with tears as he pinned all his hopes entirely on Ethan.

Ethan turned to look at Ivy.

Logically speaking, they were supposed to go anyway. The elite knights of the Empire were arriving on account of the Dream-Eaten, and their job as investigators from the Containment Bureau was to help them get acquainted with local affairs.

As for the specific details of the work, they still had to take orders from their superior.

However, today's superior was acting rather strangely.

Ever since she entered the room and announced the arrival of the expeditionary vanguard, she had been staring as if spellbound at the ragdoll cat perched on Ethan’s shoulder, the golden hair on top of her head twitching like a radar scanning over Lucky.

Ivy inched closer to Lucky, trying her best to move with the utmost stealth. Then, she slowly raised a hand, reached toward Lucky’s head, and meowed in a soft, delicate voice mimicking a cat: "Meow meow, meow meow."

"Snap!"

The exact moment she was about to touch Lucky, the cat lightning-fast slapped the back of Ivy’s hand with a paw, using a look of utter disdain to convey a clear warning: "Do not touch me."

"Ah, well, Lucky doesn't really like others touching her," Ethan defended the cat.

Far from being angry, Ivy looked at the red mark on the back of her hand with a lingering expression of fascination. Meanwhile, the golden hair atop her own head jumped in surprise; it had been itching to take advantage of the chaos to pet Lucky too, but seeing this, it had no choice but to give up.

So Ivy liked cats. Ethan had inadvertently discovered his boss's secret preference.

"Where did you find this cat?"

"I ran into her in town awhile ago. Her name is Lucky, and her specialty is scavenging."

Lucky proudly wrapped her tail around Ethan’s neck, once again drawing an envious expression from Ivy. Ethan had no choice but to steer the conversation back on track, asking, "Are the arrangements for welcoming the vanguard force this afternoon all set? Do we need to prepare a banquet?"

The aristocratic drinking culture touched upon an absolute blind spot in Ethan's knowledge. Between his past and present lives, he had never once brushed shoulders with nobility, only barely managing to scrape together the status of a "public servant" recently.

"You and I will go together. They need someone to explain the situation in Riverwood, and Ethan, you will handle that task."

Finally tearing her gaze away from the cat with great difficulty, Ivy returned to a solemn professional demeanor to assign duties.

Ethan's silver-tongued, politician-like eloquence had left a deep impression on her, prompting her to decide that all future speaking-related assignments would be handed over to Ethan. "The two of you can skip the evening banquet. The commander of this expeditionary force is an old acquaintance of mine, and I have some private matters to discuss with her."

"Understood."

Ethan immediately caught on and replied accordingly. As for a banquet involving the dark underbelly of the imperial capital, small fries like him were better off not attending. Besides, he was planning to make a trip to Hearthwood Bay tonight. He had great confidence in his homemade frost arrow scrolls, and if things went smoothly, he would soon secure an invitation letter to enter the town.

On the other hand, he genuinely hoped that the elderly steward who frequently haunted places of pleasure would come out of this unscathed.

To prevent the situation from spiraling out of control, he had specifically written the command "leave captives alive" into the scrolls. For the past two days, he had also been monitoring his frost arrow proficiency; at least according to the proficiency panel, no one had lost their life to his frost arrows this time.

"By the way, help me pass along a message to the vanguard."

Hagrid waited quietly for the two of them to finish before raising his hand timidly to add, "Just tell them I’ve taken ill at home and that once I recover, I will personally guide them around outside the town."

"Just go home and rest your back in peace," Ethan waved a hand dismissively. "With me around, what are you worried about? I guarantee they won't look down on you just because you're absent."

"I knew I could count on you, brother Ethan! I'll treat you to a drink later!"

Ivy looked at Hagrid with a trace of pity. The last person who had trusted Ethan this completely was named Marshall, and by now his corpse had probably been shipped all the way back to Gear City.

Oblivious to all of this, Hagrid clutched his back and limped away.

The room fell silent once more.

"Well then, I'll go prepare as well," Ethan said.

"Wait a moment."

Ivy suddenly stopped him. Still staring fixedly at the ragdoll cat on Ethan's shoulder, she said, "Cats of this breed are extremely delicate. It's fine if you eat hard bread yourself, but don't feed her that kind of coarse food every day!"

"Meow-oo!"

The cat let out an indignant yelp, leaped agilely off Ethan’s shoulder, trotted into the kitchen, dragged out a long piece of hard bread, and began gnawing on it defiantly right in front of Ivy.