An Old Rival

What do you do when an evil god howls outside your window in the middle of the night? Waiting online, it is urgent.

Could it have been attracted by something? Lynch instinctively looked under his bed, trying to find traces of a mouse. Unfortunately, the room was kept spotlessly clean by Mrs. Maggie; he could not even find a single tentacle.

No, I must have been assimilated by this world, or why would tentacles be the first thing that comes to mind?

As Lynch muttered to himself, the cat's meowing outside the window grew louder, tinged with a hint of irritation, and it even began scratching at the glass.

Fine, you win. I cannot afford to offend you.

Lynch sighed and reluctantly climbed out of bed to open the window, only for a dark shadow to pounce like lightning, plastering itself directly onto his face.

What the hell.

Lynch felt his hair stand on end. He had not forgotten what he saw when he last encountered this thing. Terrified, he grabbed the black cat with both hands and tried to pull it off, but the cat stubbornly clung to his head with all four limbs, its claws hooking into his hair while its tail lashed across his face like a steel whip.

Ouch, what are you doing?

Lynch was incredibly grateful that he had never written code in this life, leaving him with a decent head of hair, yet he still jumped around in pain as the claws tugged at his scalp. For a moment, the roars of man and cat echoed through the bedroom as they grappled in a chaotic mess.

A moment later, the results were clear. The fear of a Great Old One is indeed an inescapable nightmare for all living things; the evil god once again stepped upon the head of a mortal, demonstrating its powerful and terrifying nature to the world.

Yes, after a fierce struggle, the black cat finally got its wish and perched on top of Lynch's head. Its warm body made the top of his head feel toasty, which was actually quite comfortable.

Forget it. Even though having a cat on my head makes me look a bit brain-dead, if I cannot resist, I might as well close my eyes and enjoy it. Good thing you are a black cat; if you were a ginger cat, my neck would be broken by now.

Lynch sighed deeply. "Lady Hathaway, giggling at someone else's misfortune is not becoming of a noble lady. Besides, do you not think that spot is a poor choice for a cat bed? Let us negotiate. Either make it get down, or communicate with it and tell it to keep its tail quiet—could it stop whipping my face?"

"I cannot help it. Azzy is just my friend; it has its own will," the countess's voice drifted from the cat, sounding incredibly eerie. "It likes playing with you, and it is having a great time. Besides, a cat's tail is such a rebellious existence that even the cat itself cannot control it. What would you have me do?"

The problem is that I am not having a good time. A cat is fun, but the fact that a Great Old One's gaze might pop out of it at any moment is not fun at all. Lynch sighed expressionlessly and suddenly took a bite at the tail swishing in front of him.

Snap. He missed. Snap. He missed again.

Lynch reached out, grabbed the wriggling tail, and bit down hard.

Awooo!

Another flurry of paw-pads slapped him until he scurried away, clutching his head. Only then did the black cat jump onto the bed, contentedly sprawling across the pillow and letting out a yawn. At the same time, the elegant silhouette of the lady once again manifested around the cat.

There must be many mortals bitten by evil gods, but I must be the first one to bite an evil god back.

Although he did not know why that was something to be proud of, Lynch still felt a sense of self-satisfaction.

"Detective, there is no need to be nervous. Azzy is just a cat most of the time, perhaps a bit smarter than average. Neither I nor that one will be frequently watching it."

Hm? Is that so... Then I can rest easy. Lynch began to roll up his pajama sleeves, staring at the black cat with a sinister grin.

"However, because it has borne the gaze of that one, its physical constitution is far stronger than a normal cat—roughly equivalent to a rank three soul manifestation soul severer."

???

The sinister grin instantly transformed into a flattering smile. Lynch quickly retreated a few steps to put some distance between himself and this little ancestor, then said with a serious expression, "Lady Countess, is there some command that brings you here in the middle of the night?"

He asked calmly, but he was actually panicking inside. Could it be that the cat goddess Bastet had discovered him secretly borrowing her supreme will and had come to settle the score?

Although it was an unintentional act, he did feel a bit guilty.

"I am here to bother you, Detective." The countess's voice drifted from the phantom, dropping the temperature of the bedroom by several degrees. "Your actions... are you showing contempt for the promise of an apostle of the Great Old Ones?"

Hm? What does this woman mean? It does not sound like she is here to collect a debt, but how have I shown her contempt?

Wait, did I actually forget about it entirely?

Lynch finally remembered. When he had received the Cat's Favor previously, this strange countess had entrusted him with a task: if he helped her thwart the conspiracy of Mordiggian, the King of Ghouls, she would help him recover a memory of the Red Moon.

Since then, he had been so busy jumping around playing with his new abilities that he had completely forgotten the request. He had not expected her to show up on his doorstep, giving him quite a scare.

【Do not worry, Lynch. The supreme will you obtained was too weak; it has no impact on her and is almost negligible. She cannot even perceive it at all.】

‘Thank you for that. Why does something that should be good news make me want to cry when you say it?’

Lynch sighed and shook his head firmly at the black cat:

"No, I truly did not forget. Well, that is not it—it has nothing to do with forgetting or not. Cough, have I not been recovering from a broken leg? Lady Nightingale can testify to that. Once my injury healed, I was busy preparing for today's banquet. I have been so occupied that I have not had a chance to pay you a visit." Having finally smoothed things over, Lynch let out a breath of relief and asked with a forced smile, "Has the Lady Countess managed to find it yet?"

"No."

"Huh?"

"The holy memories of your Red Moon lineage are too few and far between, making them very troublesome to track down. Besides, you move too fast; there was simply no time. I am visiting late tonight to tell you that the Elegant Cat has seen your efforts. Her apostle has not forgotten the agreement; it just requires a little more time."

Lynch paused, dropped his smile, stood up, and straightened his messy pajamas before bowing with his hand over his chest toward the woman's phantom.

Regardless of identity, a person who keeps their word and values promises is worthy of respect.

"The Cat Lady's favor has indeed helped me greatly. Please convey my sincere respects to her on my behalf. As for the memory of the Red Moon Lady, I like cats and believe in the integrity of the Cat's Apostle. I trust that you will do your best for the sake of the promise. Therefore, you may give it to me whenever you acquire it; there is no rush."

The black cat's green vertical pupils stared at Lynch in a way that seemed almost human. After a long moment, Lady Hathaway's voice replied, "I accept your goodwill, but the Lord of Cats has never liked owing favors to mortals. How about this: I will pay you a portion of the interest first."

"Hm?" Lynch frowned in confusion.

"According to reliable information, one of your old rivals arrived in Rhine City a few days ago. Given his habits, he should have already greeted you just a few days ago."

A sense of foreboding instantly washed over Lynch. He recalled the strange man who had appeared downstairs five days ago. His behavior at the time was clearly meant as a greeting, only for him to be unluckily caught during Lynch's upgrade and slapped away in passing.

"But... an old rival, who?"

"An apostle of the Ancient Flicker." The woman's phantom sounded visibly amused. "They seem to hold deep feelings for you."

It was them? Well, those are certainly deep feelings.

Lynch opened his mouth but found nothing to say. Thinking about it carefully, that evil god was actually quite pitiful.

It wanted to eat a sacrifice but was dodged by the sacrifice. Its offerings all died, and it left a mark while sleeping with the sacrifice, waiting to eat a month later, only to have some inexplicable evil god crash into it, leaving both sides battered and bruised while the sacrifice slipped away again.

After finally recovering and desperately trying to take revenge, its key personnel were countered and killed on the spot.

Thinking about the Ancient Flicker's experiences now, Lynch felt a twinge of sympathy for it.

It seemed its followers were not giving up, or perhaps it was still unwilling to let go, and had come knocking again. How unlucky would they be this time?

"Listen clearly to what I say: it is an apostle of the Ancient Flicker."

"Not a follower, but an apostle?" Lynch finally realized there was a subtle difference between the two terms. "Wait, did you not just call yourself an apostle of the Elegant Cat?"

"Mm-hmm."

"So, what you call an apostle is just a follower who might have the will of an evil... Great Old One pop out of them at any time?"

"Not exactly. What you are describing is a manifestation vessel, which is a very rare existence. Furthermore, even a manifestation vessel cannot bear the will of a Great Old One at all times. An apostle is merely a mortal favored by a Great Old One, yet they are far more powerful than an ordinary soul severer."

Lady Hathaway explained in great detail this time:

"The one who entered the city this time is an apostle of the Ancient Flicker. I suspect he is not here to reminisce with you. Take care of yourself; do not make me go to great lengths to find a holy memory only to have no one there to receive it. How is that? This interest should be enough to buy you an extension, should it not?"

"Of course." Lynch bowed deeply, feeling quite grateful. Knowing such intelligence in advance often meant the difference between life and death. However, after a moment's thought, Lynch cheekily followed up, "One more thing, if I may ask: what do you know about the ruby called Flaming Red Lips belonging to Princess Chloe of Salter? What would I need to pay in exchange?"

"Nothing can exchange for it, because I do not know."

The black cat suddenly leaped up, stepped on Lynch's shoulder for leverage, and jumped onto the windowsill before lazily adding:

"I do not actually know much about the news in the noble social circles. I suggest you go to the Black Cat Theater and find their boss, Jefferson."

"Is he that..." Lynch made a tentacle-wiggling gesture with his arm.

"Correct. He is an apostle of the King in Yellow, the master of the Night City. The theater is the most well-informed place in the noble social circle; he might know the answer to your question. Do not worry; he bears no ill will toward you. Furthermore, the King in Yellow only likes to watch plays; he does not like to perform on stage."

"I understand. I will go. Then I shall look forward to your good news."

Lynch smiled, waved at the black cat, and watched it melt into the night. He sighed heavily only after a long time had passed.

I have no control over my own fate. My enemies are back. I hope it does not affect my investigation into the Flaming Red Lips incident.

I will deal with things as they come. I will discuss it with Miss Valente tomorrow, then go see the hillman chieftain Nikolai. If possible, I will deal with Chairman Grant and the sewer ghouls first. If I can find a breakthrough through Grant, perhaps I can discover if the Flaming Red Lips are related to the railway project.

Mulling this over, Lynch immersed himself in the crimson moonlight once more and gradually drifted into a deep sleep.