Naphael sat on his grand bed with his wife, Valeslina, beside him.

  "How was your visit to the Physician's Guild?" Valeslina asked, gently massaging his shoulders.

  "He said my condition will be fine as long as I keep up regur visits."

  "That's good to hear. I was a little worried," she replied with a relieved smile. "So, how's Agafon doing?"

  "Same as always—clingy."

  Valeslina chuckled. "That's one way to describe him. Still, now that we mention Agafon, I wonder how the others are doing."

  "That arrogant bunch? They're probably too busy with themselves, as usual."

  Valeslina raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. "Arrogant? That’s rich coming from you. What was it you used to say? Ah, yes—‘You lowly woman, don’t touch me unless you’re worthy.’"

  Naphael flinched slightly at the tease, memories of his darker past surfacing briefly.

  "Anyway," he said, steering the conversation away, "there might be a meeting with the emperor soon. It's about Sophia and her beast."

  "Oh? Are you allowed to tell me about that?"

  "I’ve already sent word to the imperial pace. I want you to accompany Sophia on that visit."

  "You won’t be going with her?"

  "I'll be abroad for a few months again."

  At this, Valeslina's smile faded slightly, and her brow furrowed. "The United Republic of Aur again?"

  "Yes," Naphael replied.

  "I see." She sighed, her tone softening. "I understand. Just, please be careful."

  "I will."

  ***

  On a quiet night, Sophia sat cross-legged on the floor of her room, staring at the result of her efforts: 'Cat Backpack v0.1.'

  She couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as she admired her work.

  Beside her, Seraphix was curled up on a pile of clothes, fast asleep.

  "Not much help this time," she thought, smirking to herself.

  Earlier, Seraphix had been actively involved in the project, but now he had left her to finish it on her own, his contributions reduced to occasional compi... advice on the cat backpack.

  Still, Sophia didn’t feel annoyed.

  In fact, she felt unexpectedly content. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the feeling of working alongside someone.

  “I guess I’ve been lonely,” she admitted quietly to herself.

  As her eyes drifted to Seraphix, she noticed faint traces of marker still smudged on his furred face. Smiling softly, she grabbed a clean cloth and gently wiped it away.

  Her gaze wandered to the scattered remnants of her project—the fabric scraps, threads, and tools strewn across the floor.

  “...Tomorrow,” she muttered.

  Cleaning could wait.

  Scooping up Seraphix, she carried him to her bed and cradled him as she y down. With him nestled in her arms, Sophia drifted off to sleep, feeling more at peace than she had in a long time.

  ***

  In the middle of the night, I open my eyes.

  Scanning my surroundings, I notice the floor littered with remnants from the cat backpack project.

  A frown creases my face at the sight.

  'This is why I don't like kid.'

  In my previous life, I was meticulous about organizing my belongings and keeping my workspace clean, both before and after any task. Witnessing how children ck work ethics and organization always grated on my nerves.

  My gaze shifts to Sophia, peacefully asleep.

  I sigh.

  'I guess I'll help clean up.'

  But before that, I open my status window.

  ---

  **Seraphix** Level: 1 Mana Capacity: 543 Occupation: Beast (cat) tamed by Sophia Kovalevska

  Strength: 1 Intelligence: 1 Agility: 1 Dexterity: 1 Vitality: 1

  Skills: Transmogrify Essence, Veil of the Abyss, Essence Devour

  ---

  I can’t help but smile at the sight of my mana capacity.

  'Although it tasted like genuine dirt, eating all those mana stones was definitely worth it.'

  I do recall, however, that there’s a limit to how many mana stones one can purchase in a week. Which means I’ve probably used up most of Sophia's mana stone for this week.

  'I guess I’ll have to find a way to make it up to her ter.'

  Focusing, I shift into my human form.

  A surge of heat envelops me, and my body transforms. I emerge as a man with a lean, muscur build. I walk over to the mirror and study myself.

  My hair and eyes are bck, entirely different from my previous life. Back then, my hair was white, and wrinkles marked my face, clear signs of my old age.

  But now, despite having shifted to the same age as before, my body shows no wrinkles, and my hair remains smooth and youthful.

  'Though my original hair and eyes weren’t bck in my previous life either,' I recall.

  Experimenting, I focus on my 'Transmogrify Essence' skill.

  My hair changes to white.

  'I see—if I don’t consciously imagine a specific color, the skill defaults to bck.'

  As I observe my reflection further, I notice one gring issue: I’m still naked.

  Realizing this, I focus on my skill again.

  A compression shirt and pants materialize over my body.

  'Wow, it actually worked. I can even turn my body into clothing... wait, body?'

  I touch the shirt and feel a faint sensation of being touched.

  'So it’s still part of me… I guess I’m technically still naked.'

  Even so, this discovery is enough for now. Knowing I can appear clothed gives me more freedom to shift into my human form without embarrassment.

  Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind.

  'What clothing would best suit the setting of this world?'

  The fashion here isn’t medieval, but it’s not quite modern either—something in between.

  I spend some time experimenting with different designs before ending my little experiment for the night.

  As I turn back to the room, I realize something important.

  'Right, I haven’t cleaned up yet.'

  Sighing, I begin organizing the leftover materials and tools scattered on the floor. When I finally finish, fatigue seeps into me.

  'Handling other people’s messes still drains me, just like always.'

  I transform back into my cat form and curl up for another round of sleep.

  ***

  Early in the morning, Sophia awoke in her bed, the faint light of dawn streaming through her window.

  After finishing her morning routine, she stepped out of bed and gnced around the room. The scattered materials and tools from her cat backpack project were now neatly arranged and cleaned.

  “Wha... wait, was it Sir Seraphix?” she murmured, her gaze shifting to her tamed beast, Seraphix, sprawled out and sleeping peacefully on his back, belly exposed.

  “But how? Sir Seraphix doesn’t have hands…” she pondered aloud. Then, a realization struck her.

  “Of course, I forgot! Seraphix is a nine-stroke beast. Something like tidying up would be trivial for him.”

  Over the past few days, Sophia had started treating Seraphix like a chatty housecat, forgetting that he was, in fact, a being of immense power.

  The thought made her smile.

  “That’s right. I’ve become a tamer of a nine-stroke beast,” she said softly, a sense of pride flickering within her.

  Even so, she reflected, not much about her life had changed.

  Despite possessing power equal to—or even surpassing—that of her parents, her daily life remained surprisingly unchanged.

  Additionally, recalling the breakfast from a few days ago, she realized that even with the contract mark on her right arm, proving that Seraphix was a nine-stroke beast would still be difficult.

  Shaking off the thought, Sophia opened her desk drawer and retrieved her silver-covered diary. Settling at her study table, she began to write.

  Before long, a loud knock on the door startled her, causing her pen to slip. She flinched, then rose to open it.

  Standing there was the head butler, an elderly man with a trimmed mustache, a monocle, and a perfectly pressed uniform.

  Sophia quickly averted her gaze, focusing on anything else. Among all the workers in the Kovalevska Household, the gazes of the head butler and head maid were the ones she could never grow accustomed to.

  “Sophia, you have a letter,” he said curtly, tossing the envelope to her before turning and leaving without another word.

  Sophia picked up the letter from the floor, closed the door, and returned to her study table.

  Upon closer inspection, she noticed the envelope was sealed with a spell, preventing it from being opened by ordinary means. She rummaged through her drawer for a letter opener.

  At that moment, a familiar sensation echoed in her mind.

  “Sophia, what was that noise just now?”

  She turned to see Seraphix, now awake, sitting behind her.

  “It’s nothing,” she replied. “I just received a letter, and I’m looking for a letter opener.”

  “Can’t you just tear the paper?”

  “No, it’s sealed with a spell,” she expined.

  “I see.”

  Finally finding the letter opener, Sophia returned to her desk, pcing Seraphix gently on its surface.

  With the opener in hand, she carefully broke the seal. The gemstone in her ring glowed faintly, and the envelope began to transform.

  What had been a pin white letter now transformed into an ornate missive, adorned with a dragon symbol and its insignia sealing the letter.

  Sophia’s breath caught in her throat. She recognized the design from her childhood noble studies—it belonged to the imperial family.

  More arming, however, was the letter’s color: pure bck.

  Absolute secrecy.

  Clutching Seraphix close, Sophia steadied her hands and began to unfold the letter.