chapter 21
The numbers in the expense report for supplies were oddly misaligned.
“…Is this right?”
I traced the misaligned parts upward and looked closely. There were multiple places where the amounts charged were inflated beyond the actual costs.
I poked at the document with my nose, pointing out the strange calculations.
“Hey, something’s weird here.”
“Does this paper smell nice or something?”
Ian seemed to have completely given up on work. He had even taken off his glasses and was lying on the desk, staring at me.
“How about me? Want to smell me too?”
He brought his neck close to my nose. The distinct, dark yet warm scent of him wafted up sharply.
Ah. I want to smell more.
No, what am I thinking? Pull yourself together, Ariel. I can’t be doing this right now.
‘That was close.’
Snapping back to focus, I shot Ian a sharp glare.
‘Smelling your neck? What on earth are you talking about? I’m saying these amounts are wrong!’
I carefully pushed his neck away and tapped the paper with my foot so as not to leave footprints on it.
Ian’s slow, piercing gaze swept over the ledger.
After glancing over it, he pointed to the part I indicated with my nose.
Once he touched the erroneous spot with his finger, he continued absentmindedly stroking my hair as if nothing had happened.
“Yeah. This is strange here.”
‘Huh? Hey, this part’s strange too.’
As I looked through the documents, I found a few other places where amounts were subtly inflated—just enough that it wouldn’t be obvious at first glance.
Seeing repeated mistakes, a creeping sense of unease spread through me.
These are just calculation errors, right…?
Yeah, they must be. Who would dare embezzle from the Cadellion family?
But oddly, almost every calculation was slightly off. Not huge sums, not tiny ones—just enough that if you weren’t paying attention, you wouldn’t notice.
A wrinkle formed on the bridge of my nose as I pondered. Who on earth would try to skim money? And from the Cadellions? Are they out of their mind?
‘And they only took that little?’
Not even enough to be a bold prank.
Of course, by ordinary noble standards, it wasn’t trivial. But this was the Cadellion family.
The Cadellions, whose wealth overflows even if three generations go bankrupt.
‘If they were going to steal, they could’ve taken more. No, they should’ve taken more.’
If it were me, I’d risk everything to take as much as possible.
‘Ah, maybe it’s deliberate misdirection?’
What the hell is going on?
I frowned deeply, thinking hard.
Meanwhile, Allen observed Ian, who seemed unfazed as he stroked the kitten’s fur.
The slow, gentle gestures, calm eyes, and composure…
‘From years of being an aide, I can tell this isn’t good.’
He was clearly pondering what to do.
‘Ah… one more Lord, please…’
I was more concerned about the future of whoever embezzled than the ledger itself.
Ian, having swiftly handled the merchant-related documents, looked at another file in front of him with an intrigued smile.
“Allen.”
“Yes?”
“There’s a request for help from the Chameleon clan.”
“Aren’t they one of the secluded tribes?”
A people who neither give nor ask for help. The Chameleons live together, avoiding unnecessary interaction, and rarely venture outside.
To be precise, they are a tribe that doesn’t go out easily. If they do, they could vanish without a trace.
Because of this, their pheromones are rare and extremely valuable.
So, anthropomorphic beings are particularly eager to curry favor with the Chameleons.
The rarer something is, the more it’s sought after—naturally, many are after them.
Thus, they remain a tribe that simply occupies their space without giving or receiving aid.
“But they’re asking for help?”
Ian dropped a casually astonishing statement.
“The child of the Kaon family has gone missing. It seems to have been quite some time… maybe years.”
“Yes, they say it’s been about two years.”
The Kaon family leads the rare Chameleon tribe.
“A Chameleon missing again…”
Interesting.
It was rare for the heir of a clan to disappear—almost unheard of. And even more so for a secluded tribe.
Those in the shadows who trafficked in beings would never touch a clan heir—they simply let them be.
I quietly considered what I had just heard.
‘So the heir of the Chameleons was kidnapped again?’
Was it really a kidnapping in the past?
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a kidnapping.
It was a “disappearance.”
But such disappearances often led to kidnapping. Especially for heirs of a tribe with rare pheromones, like the Chameleons.
“Could it be linked to the recent disappearances of commoners here and there?”
After a while, Allen spoke in a businesslike tone.
“And there have been frequent disappearances among some common anthropomorphic beings as well.”
“Especially in the slums, it seems worse.”
Ian, silent for a moment, finally spoke.
“Feels like nine years ago. Or an extension of that.”
“Yes, I was thinking the same.”
“Who would dare do this?”
Nine years ago, or now, only someone bold enough would.
He added a deep smile.
After catching intentional miscalculations in Ian’s documents, I continued an unexpected, unofficial transaction in the office.
At first, I had helped angelically.
“Cat-sama, could you look at this document?”
“Cat-sama, is there anything wrong with this document?”
“Genius little cat-sama, could you show mercy just this once for me…?”
But soon, I gave up. Being an angel wasn’t my calling.
‘Hey, where’s the payback? Don’t you know “give and take”?’
I felt like all I did was give, give, give. Refusing to work and going on strike made Ian and the aides bring me heaps of work and piles of desserts every day.
“Cat-sama, do you like chocolate cookies?”
“Cat, how about cake today?”
The quality of desserts kept improving day by day.
“Cat-sama, how about a choux pastry today?”
“Cat-sama…”
Working while eating desserts wasn’t a loss at all. I wasn’t bored and got to eat tasty things. I sat amidst piles of documents, working.
‘…But is this really right?’
Am I really allowed to handle the Cadellion documents like this? Even if I’m a kitten?
Even for non-critical documents, should I be seeing them?
Since Ian brought me to the office, the plan to “stay unnoticed, quietly leave the mansion” had long been abandoned.
‘Ian probably knows I’m an anthropomorphic being.’
What is he thinking?
The aides initially stared in awe whenever they handed me work. Now, they’ve grown used to me buried in paperwork, almost invisible.
I’ve also become accustomed to floating pens and the aides deftly avoiding them.
Sometimes paper or handkerchiefs fly sharply, but I just ignore it. How a handkerchief can become a weapon is beyond me.
As I became familiar with this routine, the aides’ and Ian’s working hours noticeably shortened. They seemed to see me as a savior from their paperwork hell, bringing increasingly delicious desserts to win me over.
Allen, with eager anticipation, spoke.
“Cat-sama, today I’ve specially prepared…”
‘Prepared?’
I looked up at him, expecting the next words.
“A mouse.”
“Meowaaagh!”
‘This… insane… wild beast!!!’
Today’s paperwork scattered gloriously through the air.
I cannot eat mice! I’m an anthropomorphic being! Take it away!
I leapt at Ian.
“Ian-sama, didn’t you say that cats would be pleased if a mouse is caught for them?”
Allen shot Ian a wronged look.
“When did I say that?”
Ian stared back with an innocent expression.
I stared at him with betrayal.
‘You were in on this too…?’
There’s no trustworthy being in this world.
Tail quivering, I turned away and flopped to the floor.
‘I’m not staying with you.’
A full strike.
We entered a cold war—though it was mostly me sulking unilaterally.
How could they bring a mouse after all the work I did reviewing documents?
The sense of betrayal made me shiver. From that day, I went on strike again, refusing all office work.
The aides and Ian sank back into overtime. Those who had tasted the sweetness of leaving work were dying slowly under the burden. They tried to win me over with desserts, but the office remained quiet.
In reality, those who were usually present seemed absent.
The two aides who had hugged each other while doing overtime on a celebration day were now on vacation. I couldn’t tell if this workplace was good or bad.
Bonuses and salary were generous, but the boss’s temperament…
‘…Still, the cake and choux pastries were nice.’
Whatever the case, I hoped they rested well for their future.
Thanks to that, only Ian, Allen, and I remained in the office.
Allen carefully placed a cake box on his desk.
‘Oh, cake this time.’
My gaze naturally went to the cake box.
“Cat-sama.”
‘Why.’
I turned my gaze to Allen, annoyed.
He opened the cake box.
“Perhaps…”
‘Perhaps what?’
Feeling uneasy, I stared at him.
“Would you like some raw fish as a peace offering?”
Madness. I wasn’t expecting this from a tiger.
