A Holy Corpse brings miracles — like being flung free from a demon's grip the moment the spine was obtained, or the spring that could transform any object placed within it.
A Holy Corpse brings trials.
Of the seven pieces collected, the only ones Yimi had truly earned through her own effort were today's: the ears and the right arm.
She finally understood why the spring hadn't finished digesting.
The trial wasn't over.
She had to give away the newly acquired Holy Corpse before nightfall — and the exchange couldn't be a gift, or anything so lopsided it was practically a handout.
"Mrow!"
No hesitation. Yimi's body had already begun to go wrong. She ran anyway — toward a house she had sensed nearby.
She only really knew about food. She had no idea what humans considered most valuable. But in a cat's straightforward logic, bigger always meant more expensive.
At the tail end of the 19th century, automobiles were barely prototypes. Their unreliability had kept them from spreading, making them the prized possessions of craftsmen or wealthy collectors.
Perhaps some rich person liked buying property in quiet places — because in a spot where you could walk ten meters without hearing another human being, sitting in the courtyard of a large house was a vehicle that still had a very long way to go before it resembled anything from the future.
Yimi raised a paw and, without a single word of preamble, sent it crashing straight into the wall.
"What?! What happened?!" The homeowner stepped out with a hunting rifle.
Yimi quickly withdrew the Holy Corpse's ears and right arm from her own body. "This — for your car. Compensation."
Even children under seven grasped the concept of compensation. She had prior experience too — once she had smashed a neighbor's glass bottle and made Grandma pay thirty yuan to settle it.
"The cat talked?! And my car is in the wall!"
While the homeowner's thoughts were in complete disarray, the roots at Yimi's paws accelerated their spread.
Not a value issue. Early automobiles were priceless artifacts with decisive significance for the future. But a forced exchange wasn't allowed either.
"Mrow!"
Yimi re-integrated the Holy Corpse, ignored the still-reeling homeowner, and sprinted toward the next location.
She hadn't fully absorbed the corpse owner's lesson about human commerce, but she understood one thing: only another Holy Corpse could equal a Holy Corpse in a trade. Exchange one set for another — that was fair.
She could sense two Holy Corpses within this town. Not together, but close. They had been shifting faintly just moments ago — someone must be holding them. And the two parts she had just received — the ears and the right hand — also counted as two separate pieces. If she could make it before sunset—
The destination was a single-story house, common in America. No lights inside. The thick snow in front had never been cleared, and there were no footprints — human or otherwise — anywhere near the entrance.
"Mrow!"
Yimi launched herself and used her own body weight to shatter the window and tumble through.
Her body was strong enough to kick an Amur tiger across a room, but this landing nearly sent her into the wall anyway — partly because she still hadn't adjusted to her improved jumping ability, and partly because the roots spreading across her four limbs had already begun to disrupt her movement.
No time to survey the layout. She charged straight toward the room where the Holy Corpse was located.
"Awoo, awoo..."
A sound she almost thought she was imagining — the voice of someone she'd parted from only a few hours ago.
Even in this tense moment, the cat couldn't help glancing toward it. Her night vision showed her clearly: that timid wolf pup, creeping out from a corner, eager to please and hopeful, making its way slowly toward her.
"!"
She had no idea how it had followed her here. She also had no time to ask.
A wooden door blocked her path. She leapt and split it clean in two with a single kick — helped in no small part by the fact that years of neglect had rotted the wood brittle.
But even before she fully landed, countless tiny fragments came raining down from midair, pattering against her fur.
"Mrow-wow?"
Small. Light. Completely incapable of injuring her. But they were burrowing into her skin.
No pain. And yet — feeling something foreign moving beneath your own hide is enough to instill primal terror in any mammal.
She looked closer. They were claws. Hundreds, at least — and every one of them belonged to a cat.
Once they fully merged with her, a faint, transparent membrane began wrapping itself around her entire body and tightening.
"Will a person discard something and press forward—"
"—or turn back and pick up what they left behind?"
Standing before her was a figure of grotesque construction. Its head looked like a length of radiator pipe. Below that, a metal spine — half-concealed by something resembling a red tortoiseshell — connected to massive boots encaged in grasping roots.
"Mrow!"
Yimi raised a paw and tore the thing apart in a single swipe — far more fragile than it looked.
"What I heard from that person was true. And yet, even knowing that in advance, actually seeing it for yourself is still something of a surprise. An enemy who's a cat..."
A new voice came from the corner of the room. A man in military uniform, wearing a steel helmet, sat on the floor. He raised his head slowly.
One of the two Holy Corpses was right beside him — the torso.
"I doubt you can understand a word I'm saying. But I'll give you a tip out of basic courtesy — clean water can suppress them. There's still an uncontaminated well in the yard. If you can understand me, go now."
The man was controlling his Stand and sincerely revealed his own weakness directly to Yimi.
Yimi understood every word. She didn't believe a single one. And she hated water.
"Awoo, awoo..." The wolf pup crept toward her from across the room.
At the same moment, Yimi's peripheral vision caught something she recognized scattered throughout the cramped space — not anything she had encountered while tracking down Holy Corpses along the way...
A cat bed. Cat litter. A pet exercise wheel. A catnip ball. And in the corner, an elderly golden retriever watching her with the gentle, vigilant patience of someone keeping an eye on a small child.
"Woof, woof."
"...Uncle Nuomi?"
The cat went still.
Had she been gone so long that Grandma had come looking for her the way she always did?
Yimi didn't understand the concept of worlds or the boundaries between them. All she knew was that every time she wandered too far and couldn't find her way back, either Grandma or Mom would always appear before dark and carry her home. This time would be no different.
The cat dragged her nearly immobilized limbs and took one step toward the elder who had always played with her.
That was the moment the wolf pup — which had been crossing the room this whole time — reached her side. It dissolved into the membrane, thickening the bonds that held her.
Fake. All of it is fake.
Even without the membrane, her right front leg had already lost all feeling. The roots had climbed past her second joint.