Imuel was poked repeatedly, but he didn't dare to move away. He stayed silent in a daze, and was stuffed into the blanket by Bai Yu. After changing into his pajamas, Bai Yu also stepped onto the bed. He only took up half the space, generously leaving the other half for the kitten, ensuring that even if the little furball rolled around several times during the night, it wouldn't fall off.

Once Bai Yu had spread the blanket out and tucked it in, he adjusted the little furball's position once more.

He placed the furball in the middle of the bed, slightly below the two pillows, so that the kitten could just be covered by the blanket.

Imuel: "..."

The doctor didn't go to sleep immediately. He had just turned on the reading lamp, casually grabbed a book, and started reading quietly, seemingly planning to read for a long time.

And this meant that Imuel was resting right against the doctor's thigh.

A little further up from the thigh would be...

Imuel gritted his teeth and thought to himself, 'Damn it, how utterly insolent!'

This shady clinic doctor was not only ruthless and hard-hearted, but his behavior was also dissolute and shameless.

The ruler of Illyria could not endure such humiliation. Imuel quietly stretched out his paws and shifted outward little by little, trying to maintain the dignity of a Duke.

But he was quickly discovered.

Bai Yu noticed the kitten beside him slowly moving away. Pressing his left hand against the pages of the book, he casually scooped the furball back with his right hand, placing it next to him again, and said casually, "Why are you squirming around? Aren't you cold?"

The cold wind howled outside the window, and it had even snowed a little during the night. Frost and condensation clung to the glass. Even Bai Yu felt cold. And since Imuel had lost too much blood, he would only feel colder.

Being pulled back by Bai Yu, the fur on Imuel's tail puffed up inch by inch. He cautiously observed the doctor, but the doctor seemed to have just made a casual move and paid no attention to him, simply lowering his eyes and continuing to read.

Bai Yu looked quiet and focused while reading. The silver-framed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose reflected faint glimmers of light.

Imuel had to admit that the doctor really had good looks.

The fingers gripping the spine of the book were long and beautiful, with clear joints. The bridge of his nose behind the glasses was also handsome and straight, and his slightly lowered eyes were cold and distant. In short, he perfectly fit Imuel's stereotype of a shady doctor.

Having just failed an escape attempt, Imuel was afraid of angering the doctor again. He didn't dare to move, just curling up quietly against the doctor's thigh.

For a time, the only sound left in the room was the doctor turning the pages.

"..."

The book the doctor was reading was "The Csoriel Poetry Collection", compiled by bards of the old era. It contained widely circulated ballads and fairy tales of Illyria. The church usually used this book as an enlightenment textbook for toddlers. Once the toddlers grew into youths, they would no longer read such books.

Yet the doctor was actually reading it with great relish.

The rhythmic sound of pages turning was like gentle white noise. As Imuel listened, he began to feel sleepy.

The doctor's body heat made the blanket warm and cozy, keeping the cold wind out. Even though it was very shameful to sleep pressed against a stranger's thigh, Imuel ultimately couldn't resist the drowsiness. A moment later, when the doctor closed the book, he had already tucked in his paws and curled up into a fluffy roll.

In his daze, someone pressed the pad of a finger against the fur on top of his head: "Go to sleep, little cat."

Bai Yu slightly dimmed the reading lamp.

He had no intention of sleeping; instead, he continued to leaf through the poetry anthology in his hand.

55 had been sulking in isolation and was finally doing a bit better now, seemingly having accepted reality. However, it still refused to perch on Bai Yu's shoulder like it did with its previous two hosts, only floating far away and yawning softly, "Host, it's almost midnight. Aren't you going to sleep?"

Bai Yu: "Let me finish this section."

55 asked in surprise, "What book is it that's so good?"

Bai Yu tapped his finger on a paragraph: "I'm not reading the book, I'm looking at these."

55 looked as instructed and saw a large swath of annotations on the paragraph.

These annotations were of various shapes—circles, triangles, and all sorts of strange shapes that 55 couldn't describe, resembling some kind of secret code.

Bai Yu closed the book and rubbed the space between his brows: "If I'm not mistaken, this is a ciphered translation of some code, and the Saturday Gathering at the West City Cathedral might be related to this."

Using books to translate codes was a common method used by various underground organizations. Characters and numbers corresponded to one another, and after appropriate alterations, spies could transmit a lot of information with just a string of numbers.

He just didn't know which organization the original owner of this identity actually belonged to.

The original novel had been banned, and even the system only knew the key plot nodes without knowing more details.

Bai Yu's major was not cryptography. He tried to decipher it, but lacking the corresponding texts, he could only set it aside for now. He placed the poetry anthology aside and turned off the reading lamp.

A good night's sleep.

When Imuel woke up the next day, he heard the sound of meat being chopped again.

He had received food, a warm blanket, and plenty of rest. Imuel shook his fluffy tail, feeling much better.

The rhythmic sound of chopping came from the kitchen next door, one stroke after another. Imuel's ears twitched. He quietly scooted to the edge of the bed, pawed at the door, and peeked his head out to look around.

Through the crack in the door, he once again smelled the salty, fishy scent of fish meat.

The kitten wrinkled its nose.

...Is it for me?

It was hard to imagine that the cold-faced doctor would actually chop meat and cook for him.

After spending a day together, Imuel finally realized that the doctor had no intention of killing him immediately, nor did he view him as a disposable test subject, because no one would lie in the same bed with a test subject and share a blanket.

Imuel thought about it. His current position was probably as a pet the doctor had picked up, used to warm his hands and bed, and incidentally to relieve boredom and provide amusement.

It was exactly for this reason that the doctor repeatedly emphasized, "Be good."

After all, the only advantage of keeping a weak and powerless creature like a cat as a pet was that it would be well-behaved and obedient. If he wasn't obedient enough, the doctor would probably discard him quickly and look for a new pet.

The platinum furball's eyes darkened. He leaned behind the door, his tail swishing back and forth, curling up into a fluffy dandelion.

The "dandelion" began to think calmly.

As things stood, he could only stay and be a pet.

All the doors and windows of the clinic were sealed shut. Imuel had checked; he couldn't open them, nor could he get out. Besides, he temporarily couldn't determine where in the city the doctor's clinic was located. With the physical strength of a cat, it was questionable whether he could make it back to the Duke's estate. Finally, his uncle was certainly searching the entire city. Showing himself rashly at this time would carry a very high risk of death.

In comparison, being the doctor's pet was a fairly suitable choice.

For Imuel, there were both pros and cons to being a pet.

The pros were that Imuel didn't need to worry about his life or food. The doctor had a stable income and a decent social status. Imuel essentially had a temporary sanctuary where he could have a quiet environment to peacefully recuperate and wait for his mutation period to pass.

Imuel's mutation period was very long, and there was a short period in the middle where the pain would be unbearable. If he wandered the streets without food or clean water, life would be very difficult.

The cons were that he had to pretend to be good and obedient, acting like a proper pet.

Duke Imuel prided himself on being adaptable; pretending to be good wasn't difficult.

However, a more troublesome point was that the doctor might physically modify him.

In fact, physical modification surgeries for cats were very common in this city-state.

Many ladies and gentlemen of Illyria also kept cats as pets. Imuel had seen them attending tea parties holding cats in their arms more than once. The upper-class elites even competed to see whose cat was better-behaved. And to prevent the cats' claws from snagging the beautiful dresses and suits of the ladies and gentlemen, some took their cats to have declawing surgeries.

Clinic doctors would use a scalpel to gouge out the last phalanx bone of the cat's toes, permanently depriving them of the ability to grow sharp claws.

If the doctor performed this kind of surgery on him, when Imuel turned back into his human form, he would permanently lose his finger bones, which was obviously unacceptable.

While he was thinking, he listened closely to the sounds outside. The sound of chopping meat lasted for twenty minutes before it stopped.

Imuel lightly jumped back onto the bed, lay down gracefully, and closed his eyes to feign sleep.

The door clicked softly, and the doctor entered.

The doctor stood by the bed.

The doctor gently turned him over and pressed his fingers against his abdomen.

For the surgery, the fur above the wound had all been shaved off by Bai Yu. Now, only a bald patch of flesh color remained. As the finger pad pressed directly onto his skin, Imuel couldn't control the urge to dodge.

No one had ever dared to touch the abdomen of the Duke of Illyria.

But the doctor observed carefully, not missing a single detail. Due to his nearsightedness, Bai Yu leaned in very close. Imuel could even feel the hot breath of his exhalations. Just as the Duke was beginning to doubt whether pretending to sleep was a good idea and whether he should act awake instead, Bai Yu stepped away.

He placed the bowl of milk and minced fish together in the corner.

As the door closed, Bai Yu's voice disappeared.

Imuel sat up vigilantly.

Gone?

He tentatively took a step with his paws, one step, two steps, and then jumped down from the bed.

Today, there wasn't just goat's milk and minced fish; the doctor had gone to the early market and even prepared some mussels and raw meaty bones, all fresh goods from the morning, meant to supplement his nutrition.

Imuel stuck out his tongue and took a lick.

He narrowed his eyes comfortably.

The mush was soft, easy to swallow, and bland in taste, which perfectly suited the sensitive taste buds of a sick cat. Although the doctor was a shady one, he was indeed very good at making cat food.

Imuel thought: Considering the doctor's performance these past few days, when he returns to the Duke's estate, he would give the doctor a lighter punishment.

Over the next few days, Imuel got to eat fresh meals every day.

Sometimes it was scallops, sometimes beef, or various kinds of fresh meat. The goat's milk never stopped for a single day, and everything was finely chopped into a mush.

The doctor's expression remained cold and stern, and the sound of meat chopping continued daily. Imuel grew increasingly accustomed to this sound, even managing to fall asleep peacefully while listening to it.

Other than the first day when the doctor grabbed him onto the operating table and injected him with who knows what, Imuel lived quite peacefully in the house the rest of the time.

On this day, the sound of chopping meat rang out as usual. Imuel pushed open the door with his paw and poked his head out.

The chopping didn't stop.

Imuel sneaked two steps forward to the kitchen doorway, and using the door frame for cover, peeked his head out again.

...Is he really cooking for me?

He was really cooking for him.

He saw the doctor.

Bai Yu's back was narrow, firm, and slender, looking absurdly tall from the kitten's perspective. He was wearing casual clothes, with his top cinched by a waistband, tracing the lines of his waist and abdomen before tucking into crisp, wide trousers. The hand holding the knife was incredibly steady, gracefully carving the meat as if sculpting a piece of art.

55: "Host, your little kitten is peeping at you."

Bai Yu: "Hmm?"

He turned his head slightly and looked sideways toward the door.

Imuel: "!!!"

He ran off without looking back, his paw pads tapping lightly against the floorboards, leaving a very soft sound.

Bai Yu only had time to catch a glimpse of a large platinum tail flashing past the doorway.

He stopped his kitchen knife and stroked his chin: "Quite energetic. It looks like he's recovering well. We can proceed to the next step."

55 felt a chill in its heart: "What next step?"

Bai Yu didn't answer the system, just continued his movements.

Thus, after Imuel licked the fish mush clean and was about to take a nap on the windowsill, he was suddenly grabbed by the scruff of his neck and lifted up entirely.

"...Meow?"

Imuel looked at the doctor in bewilderment, his lake-blue eyes filled with confusion. Looking at the doctor's unapproachable, cold face, a belated sense of fear crept up on him.

...What is he going to do?

Supporting him, the doctor turned and walked downstairs.

Entering his sight were the iron-gray treatment bed, the mottled partition curtains, and various rusted metal partitions.

This was the doctor's clinic.

The second floor was Bai Yu's residence, featuring gentle tones and warm sunlight. The first floor, however, only had a square window, as narrow as a bunker's sniper slit, which didn't even let in any sunlight. It was permeated with the smell of coldness and death.

"..."

Imuel's paws began to grow cold.

Having stayed in the bedroom for a week, he had even forgotten that this was the actual place where the doctor operated.

Bai Yu placed him on the freezing operating table, buckled the restraining straps again, and soothingly scratched the kitten's chin.

Today was the fifth day after surgery, time to remove the stitches.

In this era, there were no absorbable protein threads. If sutures were left in the body for too long, they could cause inflammation.

Removing stitches didn't hurt much, nor did it require anesthesia. After settling the kitten, Bai Yu fetched his tools and noticed it was trembling.

Those lake-blue eyes stared at him fixedly. Even though it was just a cat, it seemed to possess human emotions—like pleading, or like fear. It was as if he were mournfully questioning:

...Aren't I, a pet?

But it was completely normal for cats to be afraid. Every cat was scared of the pet hospital, and there were even a few cats that harbored a "deep-seated hatred" for Bai Yu, extending their claws the moment they saw him. Moreover, no matter how afraid it was, the stitches still had to be removed.

Bai Yu gently rubbed the kitten's head, his voice softening as well: "Be good, it's okay, it'll just take a second."

As the alcohol was dabbed onto his abdomen, Imuel's body suddenly tensed.

Before being injected the first time and experiencing that burning pain, he had also been rubbed with alcohol.

"Damn it." The Duke gritted his teeth once more. He felt fooled and deceived. He resented himself for so easily letting his guard down around the doctor, and he was furiously contemptuous of the doctor's methods of playing him like a fiddle. For a moment, he actually didn't know if he felt more fear or more anger. He swore to himself, 'Doctor, you'd better not let me...'

Before he could even think about what he would do to him, Bai Yu had already unbuckled the straps of the treatment bed.

—It was just removing stitches. Bai Yu's technique was experienced, and under his intense bodily tension, Imuel hadn't even felt any pain.

Next, the Elizabethan collar around his head was also taken off.

"...Meow?"

Imuel looked back in disbelief. For the first time in all these days, he saw what his abdomen looked like now.

On the exposed skin, the wound had mostly healed, leaving only an ugly scar winding across his abdomen. Although it was very ugly, it truly didn't hurt anymore.

"...?"

...Those actions before, was the doctor treating his wound?

It sounded unbelievable, but it was the only explanation. Imuel flicked his tail, and the bellyful of anger completely dissipated.

He stared at his abdomen suspiciously.

Very well, the healing progress was very good. It wasn't bleeding or infected. The only problem was, where was his fur?

A large patch on his abdomen was completely bare, bald and exposed, while the surrounding fur was fluffy and beautiful. At first glance, it was exceptionally glaring, looking as if he started balding.

At this moment, Bai Yu just happened to take off his gloves and throw them into the waste basket. Seeing the platinum furball's actions, he actually chuckled.

The doctor said callously, "So ugly."