One-Eared Anubis burst through the shop door, war knife flashing, and charged into the street.
The moment it left, the crushing pressure vanished.
Roy Pulsipher collapsed against the bar counter, gasping for breath as if he'd just surfaced from deep water.
His hands trembled as he wiped sweat from his brow.
"…For a moment there," He muttered hoarsely, "I felt like I was staring death in the face again. Same as all those years ago."
Garfield hopped up beside him and gave his shoulder a reassuring pat.
"Relax." He said lightly. "That wasn't the real Anubis."
Roy shoulders sagged in relief.
"Oh. A magic item, huh?" He laughed weakly. "Good. That's good. Nearly scared me to death."
His thoughts drifted briefly to quieter days, warm sunlight, his sister's laughter, the kind of peace that only existed in memory.
That was when Garfield struck.
"By the way." He added casually, "That One-Eared Anubis is actually a clone of the real Anubis."
"It has independent consciousness."
Roy's hands slipped. He slid straight off the bar stool and hit the floor with a dull thump, completely winded.
People were funny like that.
The more terrified you became, the more curiosity clawed at you… like watching a horror movie through your fingers.
Panting beneath the counter, Roy still couldn't resist peeking outside. What he saw made his blood run slow.
The towering One-Eared Anubis moved like an executioner, war knife rising and falling in clean arcs.
The dead ghosts, Bob and his gang screamed as their souls were shredded, erased far more cruelly than by spiritual bullets.
Up.
Down.
Up.
Down.
Each strike ended another existence. Their wails lingered in the air long after their forms dissolved into nothingness.
"…That's brutal," Roy whispered.
Shakily, he dragged himself upright, leaned against the bar, and pulled a silver flask from inside his coat. He twisted the cap and took two deep gulps.
The burn spread through his chest, grounding him in reality.
Before he could steady himself completely, the shop door creaked open.
One-Eared Anubis stepped inside.
Roy stiffened. It felt like having a porcupine pressed against his spine. The hand holding the flask froze, unsure whether to drink or drop it.
"Corner. Standby." Garfield flicked his paw.
The Anubis construct obeyed instantly, walking to the corner of the shop.
The glowing runes across its body dimmed, the light in its eyes faded, and within seconds it became a motionless statue.
Only then did Roy dare breathe again.
He stared at the statue for a long time before finally pushing himself upright.
Later, Garfield and Roy stepped outside together, quietly casting a spell to erase the memories of passersby who had witnessed anything unusual.
Back inside, Garfield sprawled comfortably on the counter atop a soft cushion, eyes half-closed as Lilith massaged his shoulders.
He flicked a teasing glance at Roy.
"Old cowboy," Garfield said lazily, "Your mental focus really needs work."
"Aren't you supposed to be a top agent of the R.I.P.D? One that specializes in hunting the dead?"
Roy drained the rest of his flask in one go. The warmth settled his nerves, reminding him that he was still very much alive.
"Cat." He said tiredly, "Could you please stop doing things this terrifying? That Anubis beast… are you trying to give me a heart attack?"
Garfield rolled his eyes.
"Stupid two-legged creature. I don't have time to lie to you," He said bluntly. "That thing is a clone Anubis left behind when he departed Earth."
He paused, then added dryly. "…Did you seriously miss everything that happened in Egypt a few days ago?"
Carefully searching his memory, Roy Pulsipher finally recalled a fragment of old news.
A few years ago, rumors had spread through the underworld, a mummy had appeared in Egypt.
Then, only days ago, he'd heard whispers about a museum curator who had led a group into the desert, claiming to search for miracles.
Roy's eyes widened.
"…Wait." He said slowly. "Don't tell me it was that curator. The one who took people into the desert?"
Garfield nodded calmly.
"That's him." He said. "The idiot who resurrected Imhotep, ancient high priest of Egypt."
"Then he went after the Scorpion Emperor, hoping to kill him, force Anubis to remain in the mortal world, and seize control of the Army of the Dead."
He relayed the story plainly, as if describing a grocery trip.
Roy stood there, stunned.
Explosive news.
He'd worked in the Department for years and had never heard anything like this. He thought hunting dangerous, dead people was already a high-risk job.
He hadn't expected to meet an orange cat who casually resisted gods.
"…Cat," Roy finally said, voice thick with disbelief, "You are one hell of a legend."
Garfield waved a paw modestly.
"I'm a cat." He politely said. "And yes, I know I'm impressive. No need to praise me."
Roy snorted. "I've met plenty of shameless people in my life. Cats are officially at the top of the list now."
Garfield sighed dramatically.
"You'll learn with time that I'm actually quite thin-skinned," He said. "Too much praise makes me blush."
Rin and Kumatarō stared wide-eyed as the two continued exchanging nonsense, unable to tell whether this was bravado or madness.
Their banter only stopped when someone appeared outside the shop.
A woman in R.I.P.D uniform stood there, holding a massive scroll nearly as tall as she was. She paced back and forth, brow furrowed, clearly wrestling with a difficult decision.
Garfield flicked his tail and glanced at her.
"Old cowboy," he said casually, "Your girl is standing outside. And she looks serious."
Roy turned and his face lit up instantly.
It was Proctor, his favorite partner. He straightened his beard, brushed dust from his coat, settled his cowboy hat, and confidently pushed the door open.
He grinned. "Did you miss me while I was gone?"
Proctor looked up.
She took one look at Roy, then reached out, grabbed him by the collar, yanked him aside, and pointed straight past him at Garfield inside the shop.
"Move," She said flatly. "I'm not here for you."
"…What?"
"I'm here for that cat."
Roy blinked. Confusion flooded his face.
"Mildred." He asked carefully, "Since when does our police station have an orange cat officer?"
Proctor raised the massive scroll.
"This just came in," She said. "An official appointment letter."
Her voice dropped slightly. "Chief Garfield."
"…Appointment letter?"
"No wonder I didn't know about it." Roy muttered. "Then why not go inside?"
Proctor rubbed her hands nervously.
"I wasn't sure this document was real at first," She admitted. "I mean, how can a cat be an officer?"
She hesitated, then added quietly, "And a very high-ranking one."
"How high?" Roy frowned.
Proctor swallowed. "Higher than you think."
Taking a deep breath, she finally stepped into the shop.
Her eyes darted everywhere, wary, as if something terrible might leap out at any moment. She walked slowly toward the counter where Garfield lounged.
Stopping in front of him, she straightened her posture and bowed respectfully.
"Good afternoon." She said carefully.
"Sir."
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream