Some food can go cold while you're still eating it.

It felt like it might have overdone things a little earlier. Luckily, this person didn't seem to think much of it.

So it could calm down again and slowly finish the food left on the plate.

Come to think of it, it had this person to thank for being alive. Had something gone wrong with its reincarnation over in the underworld? Had Meng Po forgotten to give me the soup?

Being reborn as an animal with your memories intact was undeniably painful. By the standards of my old world, hadn't I been sent into the animal realm? Thinking carefully about my life, I hadn't done anything wicked, but I hadn't made any great contributions either. In my previous life, all I did was paint. I barely taught any proper students, and since I was never very famous, my paintings were always classified as crafts.

How should I put it? My previous life really was one long stretch of mediocrity, with enough to eat and wear. I never became famous, but I never suffered much either. At this point, I should probably thank my country for being so strong and prosperous, keeping its people safe and happy.

But what did any of that have to do with me being reborn as a cat??

For the first week after it was born, everything felt like a blur. When it finally opened its eyes, it was startled to find itself in a litter of kittens, being raised by a mother cat.

It had been so shocked it could barely think. Then, once the other cats had grown fur, the mother cat stared at it for a long time before carrying it outside and dumping it on the street.

?????

Just as it thought it was going to freeze to death in the cold, shivering night, two people happened to pass by and rescue it. They didn't take it in, but if it went to that place every day, there was always a meal waiting for it.

As long as I didn't starve, that was enough.

That was the thought it clung to as it shamelessly trotted over to the duty room every day to scrounge for food. Later, as its body grew and it became able to roam around, it started sneaking over to the windowsill of a school in town to listen to lessons.

Learning!

At first, it pretended it wasn't deliberately listening. It would lie on the windowsill and act like it was dozing, ears perked up as it listened to the teacher.

But after a day or two, it realized that wasn't working at all.

Fine, no more pretending.

It simply lay on the windowsill, staring intently at the teacher as they explained what was written on the blackboard.

Little by little, it began to understand what they were saying and what they were being taught in class.

It also learned that gods existed in this world, and that just a few hundred years ago, one had saved the world after it was brought to its knees by an unknown evil.

There were also monsters in the human world. Tame ones could be kept as pets, or even become battle companions. The savage ones, who knew nothing but killing, were humanity's enemies and had to be exterminated.

The cat spent nearly a year listening to lessons from its spot on the windowsill, bringing the teacher quite a bit of fame.

People said the teacher made lessons lively and inspired young minds—and that even animals loved coming to class.

Before long, plenty of scholars came from far and wide to see for themselves. The teacher also liked to point at the students below who were fooling around and daydreaming in class, and tell them they weren't even as good as the cat on the windowsill.

Before long, some little brats took a grudge against it. Luckily, it was quick on its feet and clever enough not to get hurt by that bunch just now.

(Still, this can't go on forever.)

It thought it over slowly.

It couldn't get away unscathed every time. Judging by how hard those little brats were hitting, if they caught it, they might just beat it to death.

(No, I need to get ready to leave this place.)