Under the bright sunlight, Naphael sat in the back of his vehicle, navigating through the bustling streets of Ztogorye, the capital of the Maurya Empire.

  He eventually stopped in front of a massive building. Its exterior boasted intricate carvings that adorned the walls, accompanied by statues that stood as sentinels. At the center of its rooftop, a symbol resembling a six-winged 'psy' emblem caught the eye.

  Naphael entered the building. After expining his reservation at the front desk, an employee escorted him to the top floor via an elevator.

  When they arrived, the guide opened the door to reveal a slightly older man dressed in a white robe. The man rose from his seat and offered a slight bow.

  Naphael stepped inside. The guide closed the door behind him with a polite nod before leaving.

  "Greetings, Sir Naphael Kovalevska, head of the Kovalevska household," the man said.

  "There’s no need for formalities, Agafon," Naphael replied, taking a seat across from him.

  Agafon smiled faintly. "I see. It’s good to see you again, Naphael."

  "Good to see you too," Naphael replied curtly.

  Agafon’s tone turned curious. "I must ask—are you here for mental treatment?"

  "Yes," Naphael admitted.

  "Really? I struggle to imagine anything in this world could shake 'you'," Agafon remarked with a raised eyebrow.

  Naphael leaned back slightly. "Agafon, I’m still human."

  "Are you, though? Back during the war, I stopped thinking of you as just human," Agafon quipped.

  Naphael frowned. "Agafon, can we cut the small talk? I don’t have much time."

  "Ah, my apologies. That was unprofessional," Agafon conceded. "From your letter, it seems to be a trauma, correct?"

  "Yes, I believe so," Naphael confirmed.

  "In that case, lie down. I’ll begin with a preliminary examination of your unconscious state."

  Naphael complied, settling onto the nearby bed. Agafon approached, pcing both hands on his head.

  "I’ll lower your consciousness," Agafon expined. "Not entirely, but enough for your unconscious mind to surface. Think of it as entering a lucid dream—half asleep, but still aware. In that state, describe everything you see and the emotions you feel."

  "Understood," Naphael said.

  "Good. Rex. I’ll begin now."

  With a steady hand, Agafon channeled mana into Naphael’s head. A wave of drowsiness swept over him, and his eyelids grew heavy. Moments ter, Naphael’s eyes closed as he slipped into the induced state.

  ***

  I opened my eyes, awakened by the distinct sound of a solid object being struck.

  'What was that?'

  Scanning my surroundings, I noticed Sophia, busy working on something.

  Curious, I walked over to her. "What are you doing?" I asked.

  "Sir Seraphix! Hello," she said, smiling. "I'm working on a project."

  "A project?" I leaned in to get a better look. "A backpack?"

  "Yes! It’s the prototype for a cat backpack—version 0.1," she replied, her excitement evident.

  'Cat backpack, huh? That might actually come in handy for long-distance travel.'

  I examined it closely. The backpack had a square base and a rounded top, with a transparent cover allowing visibility when standing upright. The design was simple, not too fshy—just my style. However, I noticed a problem.

  "Sir Seraphix, what do you think?" Sophia asked suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  "I like the design," I replied.

  "Really? I’m so gd! I worked so ha—"

  "But," I interrupted, "it’s too small."

  "Huh?" Sophia blinked, a bead of sweat forming on her forehead.

  "You’ve made it so compact that my body would press against every wall of the backpack. It needs to be slightly rger."

  "But I thought you were squishy enough to fit," she said hesitantly. "When I squished your body before, it seemed like you could shrink down even smaller..."

  "Make it bigger."

  "B-but Sir Seraphix, I don’t have enough materi—"

  "B-I-G-G-E-R."

  "Ugh, okay...," she sighed, finally conceding.

  "I’ll help you with it," I said, raising my right front paw. Extending one cw, I sharpened it to a fine point.

  "Really? Thank you, Sir Seraphix!" she excimed, her enthusiasm returning.

  I knew using my mana for this was a bit frivolous, but I saw it as an investment—for a more comfortable journey in the future.

  ***

  Sophia stared bnkly at the floor of her room.

  The space was a chaotic mess, littered with scraps of wood, fabric, and other materials scattered haphazardly.

  Beside her, Seraphix y curled up atop a pile of fabric, his steady purring filling the otherwise quiet room.

  Sophia let out a small pout.

  'You promised to help, but you've been sleeping after only an hour of work,' she thought, exasperated.

  Feeling a hint of mischief stir within her, Sophia decided to py a prank. Grabbing a marker, she leaned in close and began to doodle on Seraphix’s face.

  When she was finished, she leaned back to admire her handiwork. His cat features were now adorned with exaggerated white rings around his eyes and mouth, giving him the distinct appearance of a clown.

  As she stifled a giggle, Seraphix’s nose twitched. A moment ter, his eyes blinked open.

  Seeing his newly decorated face, Sophia couldn’t contain herself. She bolted to her drawer, burying her face in a pile of clothes as ughter shook her shoulders.

  ***

  As I open my eyes, I see Sophia standing by her drawer, rummaging through something.

  'Ah, right. I must have fallen asleep while working.'

  Stretching, I walk over to her.

  "Hey, Sophia. Sorry about dozing off earlier."

  "I-it's alright, Sir Seraphix," she stammers, flinching slightly before hastily sifting through her clothes.

  Her odd behavior piques my curiosity. "What are you doing?" I ask.

  "Ah, well... we're running out of materials, so I was thinking of going outside to buy some."

  The mention of going outside catches my attention. My ears perk up at the thought of exploring the bustling city.

  "I see. The weather looks nice. I’ll come with you," I say, unable to hide my interest.

  Sophia freezes mid-motion and slowly turns to face me. But the moment her eyes meet mine, she jerks her head back toward her drawer, pretending to busy herself.

  "Oh, really? Th-then let’s go. I’ll, uh, get ready first," she mutters, her voice strained.

  Her behavior puzzles me. 'Is she avoiding me? Or maybe it’s just my imagination?'

  ***

  I found myself outside now, cradled securely against Sophia’s chest as she walked.

  As I watched the scene outside, I realized something: this world was nothing like the medieval setting I had anticipated. If I had to describe it, I would say it resembled the early 1800s, where steam engines and the faint hum of electricity coexisted. The atmosphere had a strange yet fascinating blend—like a mix of steampunk aesthetics and early industrial energy.

  As I looked around, I noticed people strolling along the streets and vehicles, vaguely resembling cars, moving steadily. The citizens wore casual outfits, many adorned with fluffy robes that added an air of coziness to their appearance.

  'The clothing here seems much more modern than expected.'

  Behind me was Sophia—or rather, an illusioned version of her. She had altered her face, hair, and eye color using some sort of magic. While her appearance now seemed more common, traces of her striking beauty persisted.

  She was dressed simply, wearing a grayish robe with fur accents, blending into the crowd.

  We walked for some time until we reached a massive building. Its exterior was eborate, with intricate carvings decorating the walls, and at its center was a grand fountain, topped with a castle-shaped emblem.

  “This is the Merchant Guild, Sir Seraphix,” Sophia announced.

  “Wo—interesting design,” I muttered, nearly blurting out my thoughts.

  Even compared to the architectural grandeur of my previous world, this building was impressive. Though its design leaned slightly medieval, its craftsmanship was undeniably remarkable.

  Sophia led the way to the entrance but was promptly halted by a guard.

  “I’m sorry, little girl, but I think you have the wrong pce,” he said gruffly.

  “Oh, right. My mistake,” Sophia replied, quickly reaching into her small pouch and producing a gray card.

  “As long as you understa—... please wait a moment, young madam.” His voice trailed off as his eyes fell on the card. He immediately bowed slightly, stepped back, and called for someone.

  Moments ter, a young man dressed in a pristine butler’s uniform appeared.

  “Greetings, young madam. I will serve as your guide today.”

  “Thank you,” Sophia said, smiling politely.

  We stepped inside, the butler leading the way.

  As Sophia walked, I couldn’t help but notice the guard’s pale expression and the nervous sweat gathering on the back of the butler’s neck.

  'Just how much influence does the Kovalevska House wield in this empire?'