Absurd and Strange

Fusiming could never have imagined it. The source of that hostility—which he’d mustered immense courage to face head-on—was actually… actually… a cat.

A black cat whose body length, tail excluded, barely reached an adult’s arm span.

At first glance, it looked no different from an ordinary large black cat.

Large, pointed ears stood tall. Its slender face was elegant. Long, slender limbs brimmed with explosive power.

It sat calmly atop a jagged peak of iron frames and steel rollers. Its disdainful gaze made it seem like a king on a throne, surveying all below.

Yet its upright posture radiated docile grace.

Like Cleopatra VII of ancient Egypt, famed for peerless beauty and charm.

If this black cat were a catgirl, she’d surely be a queen as alluring as love incarnate.

In its face, those amber pupils reflecting faint night light held wild cats’ signature wariness—and a flickering, cunning cleverness.

Stare longer into those slit-pupiled beast eyes, and you’d spot it… Beneath the savage wildness swirling in its pupils lay a trace of calm, rationality, and restraint—unique to intelligent beings.

This black cat’s wisdom… likely surpassed human imagination.

Its short black fur lay smooth against its body, outlining a flawless streamlined curve.

Though a pure wild cat, never groomed by bipeds, its coat showed zero dirt or flaws.

Everything was neat. Fluffy. Oily-shiny. Slippery-smooth. Making you itch to reach out and pet it.

Lightning flashed. Ghastly white light poured through broken windows, bathing the black cat.

Thunder’s glare stretched its shadow long while illuminating the “non-cat” parts of its body.

Right in the center of its forehead, beneath soft black fur, sat a vertical, elongated eye.

This third eye didn’t open vertically like its normal cat eyes. It opened horizontally—like the divine eye of legendary Erlang Shen.

That eerie third eye was half-open. Barely revealing blood-red depths churning with sharp, potent energy.

The terrifying killing intent that had shaken Fusiming gushed from it like a flood.

“Hss—Mew—”

The young man still dared to stare after its warning. For a feline king, direct eye contact was a challenge to authority.

The black cat opened its mouth. Bizarre double-sided serrated fangs gleamed. A low, raspy growl rumbled from its throat.

Teeth as sharp as razor blades seemed ready to shred the youth and devour him.

It lowered its body but arched its back high—stretched like a fully drawn bow.

Sharp claws snapped out from spread paws. Digging deep into the “steel-frame throne.”

As if those razor tips would *thwack* onto Fusiming’s face next.

Its black fur fluffed up like a porcupine’s. Every strand stood tall. Doubling the cat’s size.

Behind it, a long, dexterous tail—supple as a finger—rose high into the youth’s view.

Only then did Fusiming realize: the abnormalities weren’t just the hostile third eye.

Its tail wasn’t one.

Two pitch-black tails writhed and tangled behind its hindquarters.

Two tails. Serrated fangs. This reminded Fusiming of “nekomata” youkai from fantasy stories.

But those nekomata lacked a third eye. And this fierce black cat? Nothing like the cute, “meow-meow” catgirls from otaku works.

This was a true beast of prey.

This battle-ready stance—poised to sprint instantly—showed the three-eyed, two-tailed cat had fully unveiled its aggressive combat state.

The oppressive hostility from its forehead grew sharper.

“Woo—Woo—Hssmew—”

Its amber pupils slowly contracted. Then snapped wide open. Its gaping mouth kept growling and hissing.

The message was crystal clear:

—Outsider! You’ve invaded my territory! Run before I attack!

…

Fear stems from the “unknown.”

Some fear darkness because they don’t know what hides within—that’s the unknown of shadows.

Ancients feared hurricanes and tsunamis. Worshipped them as gods. Limited by their era’s ignorance of natural principles.

Some fear ghosts due to the unknown of the supernatural…

Turn on the light. See those shadows are just furniture.

Understand nature’s laws. Realize “gods” are just chemical reactions from layered factors.

Examine yourself. Those “demons” haunting your mind? Afterimages from horror movies. Absurd delusions.

Then fear vanishes.

Fusiming was the same.

When he learned the killing intent from the “Ferocious Rank” came from a black cat smaller than half his height—he felt ridiculous.

Ridiculous to himself.

He’d faced guns before mentally disturbed serial killers.

Exchanged fists with insane bank robbers.

Played hide-and-seek with drug cartels in humid wilderness…

Could those real knife-edge threats feel less deadly than a strange cat’s glare?

What a joke…

Fusiming exhaled deeply. His excited resolve melted back into calm composure.

The cat’s killing intent was just a “falsehood”—no absolute force behind it.

He remained calm.

“Hss—Hss—Mewow—”

Watching the handsome youth—back straight as a Greek sculpture—the black cat seethed.

It had warned him twice. Even lowered itself to this warning posture. Giving this male biped ample respect.

Ordinary cats… or wild beasts? It didn’t need its divine eye. A disdainful glance sent them fleeing, tails tucked.

Other bipeds? A slight effort sufficed.

That’s how it kept its “nation territory” in the city’s heart.

But this ungrateful biped ignored warnings. Dared to stare into its divine eye?!

You… ignorant fool! Lowly creature!

Its amber eyes glowed like overloaded bulbs. Pupils contracted sharply. Erupting with monarch-like fury and icy killing intent.

Its aura swelled—no longer a small cat, but a lion king rivaling a compact car.

Its half-open third eye snapped fully open.

Lowly ant. Die—!

A blood-red vortex swirled in the vertical eye’s center. Its tsunami-like killing intent surged again. Reaching a new tier.

Like an apocalyptic hurricane sweeping through!

Whoosh—!

“Amazing…” Fusiming marveled.

Mental pressure. Intense enough to trigger physical illusions.

This killing intent could scare an ordinary person to death.

That invisible blade slicing their body would make them feel “I’m dead”—then kill them.

Only those like Fusiming, who’d faced real crises, could tell the difference.

But this hyper-real “falsehood” still held formidable power.

Fusiming lowered his body. Fingers dug into the ground. Muscles tensed. Hands raised before him—resisting the “gale” threatening to blow him away.

Breathing felt so hard…

This power had entered the realm of “Special Ability”!

This black cat qualified as a Federation-recognized “Esoteric Ability User”!

To resist the mental pressure crushing his body, Fusiming breathed slow and deep. Eyes sharp and clear.

Next would be an invisible tug-of-war—