As a super-behemoth that had rampaged across the universe, this was the first time it had ever felt the threat of death.
What troubled it most, however, was the loss of its long string of tentacles.
It would take at least ten years to grow them back. For now, it could only continue hiding here, quietly siphoning energy from the cosmos.
Garfield, meanwhile, had no idea what was happening out in the universe.
He was entirely focused on the hot pot before him, a broth rich with exotic ingredients.
In the interstellar era, the universe's most bountiful offerings were the beginning of every foodie's happy life.
For the prosperity and stability of the universe. For justice. Fighting the evil Sith was a must.
Palpatine had no idea that he had just been sentenced to death over a pot of hot pot ingredients.
The game competition proceeded smoothly.
Cutting down from a thousand contestants to a hundred took little time.
Garfield had already recouped his initial investment through live broadcasts, ads, and buying and selling commemorative skins… not to mention turning a considerable profit on top.
Jean was stunned by this method of making money. Her admiration for her boss grew by the day.
Not only could he eat, and not only could he earn credits, but more importantly, he was incredibly cute.
Every time she saw Garfield, she couldn't help herself. She'd hold him close and squeeze for a while.
Then squeeze some more.
A moment of cat-squeezing was always satisfying.
Garfield, naturally decisive, allowed it as a form of encouragement.
It was fine to hold him up and play with the cat—within reason, of course. Not too overbearing for an orange cat of his stature.
And don't even mention it, the interstellar-era cat teaser wasn't just a wand. It had a massage function and could project little holographic butterflies. Quite fun, actually.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
After Garfield sent the processed data to Yoda, the old master read it and immediately said: He had been deceived.
Having lived over eight hundred years, having witnessed countless Sith and countless politicians, Yoda still hadn't expected Palpatine to hide so deeply.
If Garfield hadn't extracted the key information and laid it out in such an intuitive table, Yoda himself would have been fooled by that evil schemer.
But now came the question… what to do about it?
Directly gathering all the Jedi Knights to raid Palpatine's office and kill him on the spot would be the lowest-risk option.
But Yoda was old. He no longer had the courage of his younger years.
He wanted to resolve the immediate crisis as quietly as possible.
What he failed to realize was that the Sith Lord who thrived on deception and manipulation had once been their teacher.
Yoda's approach, starting with the senators, sending out Jedi to impeach Palpatine using members of parliament believed to have close ties to the Order.
Then dealing with him after stripping his title as Speaker was no different from any other predictable political move.
It was, in fact, playing right into Palpatine's hands.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
Garfield had his robot dogs monitor every move from the Jedi Temple.
When he saw so many Jedi being dispatched without so much as a notification to him, he couldn't help but sneer.
"You want to die, Yoda," he stated flatly.
And sure enough—
Some of the Jedi sent out never returned. They vanished into the vast, indifferent universe, and no one even thought to inform the Temple.
Others did come back, but every single one was injured, some grievously. Only then did Yoda realize the flaw in his plan.
"Dooku," Yoda said quietly, "wrong, I was. Our Republic… no longer the country we envisioned, it is."
Dooku clenched his fists, his knuckles white as he watched the mounting casualties among the Jedi.
"No," he said through gritted teeth. "We still have a chance."
Yoda's eyes flickered. He thought of Sifo-Dyas, the Jedi Master he had secretly sent to Kamino.
And the clone army the Kaminoans had been training for them.
But after sending the communication signal, Yoda felt a heavy sense of helplessness. The timeframe was too short.
The first batch of clone soldiers hadn't even finished training. The supporting warships and weapons weren't ready.
If they could wait another six months…
Well.
They had only three paths left.
First: launch a direct surprise attack on Palpatine.
Second: contact Garfield and request his fleet.
Third, the last resort… pretend nothing had happened and wait.
But Yoda and Dooku, Jedi Masters for decades, carried their pride. They still believed there was nothing the Force couldn't solve.
It was simply a matter of unresolved angles.
And so the situation stalled in heavy silence.
Meanwhile, Garfield's game competition had entered its most exciting final stage.
Championship meant countless riches and fame.
As the behind-the-scenes boss, Garfield naturally had the power to push things along.
Leveraging the full strength of the Hi Claw Group, he prepared to give the winner an extra boost.
He summoned Jean.
"Customize a shuttle for the first-place winner," Garfield instructed.
"The exterior paint must feature our company branding, no alterations. And give them a luxury mansion in Cloudtop."
Jean leaned in and whispered, "Boss… what about after that?"
Garfield smiled. "After that, we offer shuttles too, just slightly lower-tier. We need to be willing to invest."
Jean's eyes sparkled. "Yes, boss. You are so wise."
Then, unable to resist, she reached out to pet the cat.
Garfield pressed her face down with one paw and pushed her away.
(Just kidding. I'm not just any cat.)
Far from being saddened by Garfield's rejection, Jean seemed even more motivated. She practically bounced out of the room to execute his orders.
The champion's prize had expanded once again. The new additions electrified the remaining contestants.
The shuttle went without saying was a top-of-the-line custom private vehicle from Incom.
But the Cloudtop mansions? Those were no ordinary properties. There were only a handful, and most were owned by members of the Senate.
You couldn't just buy one with credits, you needed enough influence to convince the owner to sell.
At the competition venue,
a beautiful young woman with black hair and large, red cat-like eyes stared intently at the announcement of the new prizes. Her eyes gleamed.
Her identification badge read, Kasvi.
"Kasvi, look!" A cute girl beside her was practically vibrating with excitement. "The champion's reward changed again!"
"A mansion on Cloudtop! I can't even dream of that! And that beautiful shuttle, it's Incom's latest design! Not just gorgeous, but powerful combat capabilities too!"
Kasvi listened with half an ear.
Her gaze was fixed elsewhere, on a blond-haired young man standing across the venue.
Anakin.
"I know, Layla," Kasvi said calmly. "Go prepare for your match. If you accidentally lose to me, your dream of being a rich, beautiful girl is over."
Layla pouted but quickly scurried off to prepare.
Kasvi watched the cute girl's retreating back, then turned her attention fully to Anakin.
"The Chosen One," she murmured to herself. "The one who will balance the Force according to the Great Prophecy. And right now… just a blond little brat."
She tilted her head, red eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
"If those Jedi Knights knew how much disaster you're going to bring them in the future, they might already be sending you to the will of the Force with their lightsabers."
She tapped a finger against her chin.
"Should I help you out? Or push you toward the Sith and speed things along?"
A pause.
"Ugh. Tough choice."
She stretched lazily, then smiled. "I'll just participate in the competition first."