"A Slug."
Peggy, Old James, and Aberforth all turned to look.
The creature wriggled free from Garfield's grasp, lifted its head, and bristled.
"I am not a slug." It snapped indignantly.
"…Well. I am a slug."
Garfield glanced at it. "What's the difference?"
"…A lot!"
The slug turned its back on everyone, squatted dramatically, and a dark rain cloud formed above its head.
"I hate this." It muttered. "Calling me a slug, fine, I'm a slug!"
The absurdity froze the room.
Peggy stared, wide-eyed. "There are such creatures in this world?"
"…That's so cool."
Aberforth leaned forward, studying it carefully. "A magical creature capable of human speech. Newt should see this."
Garfield's ears twitched.
Newt…
He recalled how Newt and Tina had once taken the blood-oath pendant from Grindelwald while he was away.
"…How is that the little black sniffing one now?" Garfield muttered.
He made a mental note, Visit Newt. Check on Niffler's family. Maybe cook for him.
Travel plans were important.
"Oh. Right." Then Garfield suddenly remembered something else. He still had seven enormous snakes in his pocket.
After a moment's thought, he flicked them casually into the Norwegian Sea, consigning them to keep Hela company.
With the contract in place, he wasn't worried about them causing trouble.
He noted it down in his notebook.
Garfield turned back to Aberforth, who was still examining the slug with scholarly intensity.
"Interested in having it as a combat partner?"
Aberforth blinked. "Combat?"
"The slug can heal, split itself, share vision, and if things get desperate teleport you away while keeping you alive."
The slug lifted its head proudly.
"As for fighting." Garfield continued, "That depends on you."
"The stronger you are, the stronger it becomes. This is just a fragment, so its combat ability is limited, but its healing is excellent."
The dark cloud above the slug's head vanished.
It looked at Aberforth and said, "I can also teach you Sage Mode."
"Sage Mode?"
"Mobilizing the power of nature." The slug said smugly. "Extremely powerful."
Garfield sighed and translated. "It means drawing on the ambient magic of heaven and earth to amplify spellcasting."
"Requires strong physical conditioning."
He added, "Also, the slug world operates under different rules. You won't master it overnight. I suggest you two talk privately."
With that, Garfield disengaged completely.
He was a good orange cat. He didn't interfere in other people's contracts.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
Later that night, Garfield and Old James Carter sat across from each other in the study.
James lit a cigar.
Garfield accepted one too.
Man and cat, smoke drifting lazily between them.
"Tastes good," Garfield said.
"Top-grade Cuban," James replied.
"Big capitalist."
James snorted. "Still not as rich as your High Claw Group."
At the mention of it, Garfield's expression turned serious.
"The group's funds are used to advance social and technological progress."
James eyed him strangely. "You're oddly kind to humans. Sometimes I think you're less a demon king and more…"
"…an evil monster?" Garfield finished flatly.
He rolled his eyes.
"Old James Carter." He said, "I've always thought demons who want to destroy or rule the world are idiots."
James raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
Garfield took a deep drag from his cigar, then slowly exhaled a series of neat smoke rings.
"First." He said unhurriedly, "This world is fundamentally driven by human survival and development."
"Even if aliens exist, the stage still belongs to humanity."
He flicked ash into the tray.
"Second, everything that makes this world interesting, society, technology, culture, food, has been spread and reinvented by humans themselves."
He paused, then shrugged. "Third… I haven't fully thought it through yet."
Old James chuckled softly.
"But look." Garfield continued, warming to the topic. "Human communication will only become easier."
"The world will grow smaller. Technology will push entertainment, games, cuisine, everything forward."
Old James nodded slowly. "Yes."
"Since the First World War, technological progress has accelerated beyond anything I saw as a child."
"It'll keep accelerating." Garfield said. "Life in the future will be better than you can imagine."
"Of course, there will always be conflict, where there are interests, there will be disputes. War won't disappear unless humans become a single thinking organism, and that's… far off."
He leaned back comfortably. "But overall? The future trends upward."
Garfield's eyes gleamed faintly.
"I can travel anywhere in the world. Eat every delicacy. Play endlessly updated games. Drink happy water. Eat all kinds of junk food."
He spread his paws.
"Why would I want to destroy or rule a world that keeps getting more fun?"
Old James frowned slightly. "… happy water? If it's junk food, why drink it?"
"You wouldn't understand the joy of that lifestyle." Garfield rolled his eyes. "There are paper dolls. Things you won't grasp yet."
He smirked. "Live another few decades, and you'll see."
This time, Old James rolled his eyes.
"If I can make it to a hundred, I'll be satisfied." He said dryly. "Though part of me still wishes for two hundred."
Garfield examined him closely, his posture, the faint stiffness in his movements.
"With your current condition." Garfield said thoughtfully, "If nothing unexpected happens, reaching ninety isn't a problem."
"Push yourself a bit, and a hundred's possible."
He added casually, "Magical plants or potions could help."
Old James caught the implication at once.
"So." He said, narrowing his eyes, "You don't plan on making me immortal."
Garfield considered.
"I have an idea," He said slowly. "I don't know if you'll like it."
Old James straightened slightly. "What is it?"
"Do you remember the werewolves and vampires you discovered?"
"Yes." James nodded.
"We've already infiltrated them. The werewolf leader is indeed called Lucian. I also know about the long-standing blood feud between them."
"If a werewolf or vampire assimilates you." Garfield said, "You could live at least five hundred years."
Old James shook his head without hesitation. "I've considered it."
"I don't want to give up sunlight. It's good for my health."
Garfield snorted. "Who told you that becoming a werewolf or vampire means avoiding the sun?"
"…" James blinked.
"That's only true for low-level ones. High-ranking vampires aren't afraid of sunlight at all."
Old James fell silent.
After a moment, he asked carefully, "…Do you know where such a vampire ancestor is?"
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream