Traitor of Humanity

Kitty Mercenary Association

Kitty Mercenary Contract

Enforced by the God of Promises, & backed by the God of Gluttony

Every Great Hero needs a Kitty Companion~

Rules:

1. The client is not allowed to abuse or kill the kitty.

2. The client must always give the kitty the best available living conditions. (If you have a room with only one bed, the kitty gets the bed, and the client gets the floor.)

3. The client must always give the kitty the best available consumables. (If you drink wine, the kitty can't drink water.)

4. The client is not allowed to sully the dignity of the kitty.

5. The client is not allowed to send the kitty to certain death.

6. The client is not allowed to rob the kitty.

7. The client must pay the association XXXXX lbs of Catnip at the start of every year (the equivalent in human currency will also do). Otherwise, this contract will be terminated. XX% of this payment will be paid to the kitty as wages. Advanced payment is allowed.

8. If the kitty dies, the client must die as well...

Contract duration: __________ years Start date: __________

If both parties agree, then sign here:

*______________________________ *______________________________

Congratulations! May the newly born pair of kitty and master have a wonderful adventure!

…

Back when kitty first read that contract, kitty thought that only an idiot would sign it.

Kitty used to be a common, peace-loving kitty. After graduating from kitty school, kitty went back home, slept, ate, and slept all day. Every ordinary, non-changing day was a day of peace, a day that kitty would be satisfied with.

Walking no further than to the doorway to pick up the graphic novels that kitty ordered online, and turning on the television while stuffing kitty's cheeks with delivery sushi, kitty lived a very efficient life.

Kitty was satisfied, but mama kitty was not. Mean mama kitty kicked kitty out, telling kitty not to come back until kitty gets a job. How awful! What kind of mama kitty is she!?

Left with no other option, before kitty starved to death, kitty went to the most well-known kitty job placement association, otherwise known to all the kitties in Kitty Paradise, as the Kitty Mercenary Association.

The kitty mercenary association does not care for your credentials, as long as you're above a certain age. Whether male kitty or female kitty, educated or uneducated, citizen or convict, thin or fat, the kitty mercenary association accepts them all.

Free job training, free catnip, and free lodging. They guarantee to never give up on you until you get a job! ...It was hell.

The comfortable dorm life that was advertised on television was definitely pirated from some school drama. The reality? It was a ****ing kitty boot-camp.

Every morning, kitty would be forced awake by a sounding gong. All the kitties in the dorms would be force to run. No run? No food.

Even worse was that the kitty instructors would sometimes bring out a "prize" for the fastest kitty, an entire fish on a fishing hook! That's right, it was on a fishing hook, connected to a fishing line, to a fishing rod held by the kitty instructor running alongside us kitty mercenaries-in-training. Us kitties, whom have only the lowest grade of catnip every day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, drool at the sight of said fish. Every kitty would run faster, and the first kitty to get to the fish would have it all to himself... or so you'd think. After that kitty takes the first bite, all the other kitties would leap at him, and start a kitty tussle. The brutality of it all scared kitty very much. Kitty didn't dare to take part.

Breakfast really was just plain catnip. Kitty doesn't have anything against catnip. Catnip is the common currency and staple food of Kitty Paradise. But eating the same kind of catnip every day, every meal, can't help but make kitty feel it go stale...

There wasn't even any milk to go along with our meals, only water. Apparently, all the vitamins and minerals we kitties needed were infused into the catnip. No wonder the catnip tasted different from the catnip back home.

After breakfast would be our daily punching routine! We kitty mercenaries-in-training would line up standing, and thrust our fore-paws forward, shouting "Meow! Meow! Meow!", until our throats go hoarse.

Squats, push-ups, sit-ups, dragging along kitty milk barrels... filled with sand! We kitties had to do them all.

Then, still all sweaty, we kitty mercenaries-in-training would have to shout out the kitty code of honor, ten times for each verse. It was a code of honor filled with patriotism, designed to rehabilitate former kitty criminals. But the thing is, kitty is not criminal. Why does kitty have to shout all this...

After lunch is weapon training, and weapon maintenance. After the founding of Kitty Paradise, the ancestors of we kitty-kind adopted the same weapons used by those stupid fur-less animals called humans. What were our ancestors thinking, kitty wondered. But kitty didn't dare to say that out loud, or else, the kitty instructors will scold kitty for being an unfilial descendant.

Sword, shield, spear, axe, club, bows, guns, bombs... kitty used them all.

"Why can't kitty just master one weapon and be done with it?" One day, kitty was stupid enough to ask that.

"You stupid kitty! What if you one day lose your weapon and have to use whatever you find on the ground? Will you then complain that it isn't a weapon you are good with!? Go give me another 100 push-ups!" The kitty instructor so berated.

After the weapon maintenance was a shower, then dinner, then chores, and then sleep. All of this sounds like it takes a short time, but in reality? We kitty mercenaries-in-training only had a mere 8 hours of sleep per night. Only a MERE 8 HOURS! For a KITTY! Isn't that awful?

Days passed. Then weeks. Months went by.

Just as kitty was getting despairingly used to this kind of torturous everyday life, when kitty thought that it couldn't get any worse, our weapon training courses got replaced by self-defense courses.

It does not sound that bad? Kitty laughs at your naivety.

If it was just sparring with your kitty comrades and instructors, it would have still been fine. But do you know that game in the arcades? The wack-a-mouse game? Mm. Us kitty mercenaries-in-training had to go through that... except we were the ones playing the role of the mice.

A giant human-shaped robot raises it foot... and then stamps it down at us kitties at increasingly high speeds. How awful! This is kitty-abuse!

It was at that moment that kitty decided to quit!

But kitty was not allowed to quit...

Kitty was chased by starving dogs...

"**** ****ing dogs! Why are those evil animals in Kitty Paradise!? This is a breach of national law!"

"Don't worry. This isn't a dog. It is a toothless, claw-less, hairless, castrated... 4-legged big land fish."

"Woof!"

"It barked just now! Kitty heard it bark just now!" Of course, kitty's complaints fell on deaf ears. Kitty went back to training.

After training in how not to get stomped to death by wicked humans, next was projectile training... where kitty was targeted by bullets, from handguns, to sniper rifles, to gatlings. Then, it was artillery training, where kitty was targeted by ballistae, falling missiles, homing missiles. Disaster training, where kitty had to disarm bombs, swim against a flood, survive a fall from the top of a building, survive a fall from aircraft, survive an avalanche at Mount Olympuss...

Everything was for our own good, they say, so that kitty can survive in the work-world, they say. But kitty felt... it was hell.

After a year in that hell, kitty graduated, having gone from the second stage of the monster cultivation stages, the stage of Salvaging Enlightenment, blazed through the third stage, the stage of Honing Perception, and entered the fourth stage, the stage of Feral Instinct.

This miraculous cultivation speed, was just as advertised on television!

Kitty cried on the day of graduation. Whether it was tears of joy, or tears of release, even kitty did not know.

After signing a confidentiality agreement, forbidding kitty from saying anything about the kitty boot-camp, kitty was given his kitty mercenary certificate from his squad's kitty instructor. The always mean kitty instructor looked at kitty with a proud smile on at that moment. Kitty thought he was a different kitty.

Every kitty in our kitty mercenaries-in-training squad, or at least the ones that graduated on time and didn't have to take remedial lessons, took a photo together to take home as a souvenir. Every kitty, except our kitty instructor, was crying in the photo.

Our kitty instructor told us a few more things about the job, told us to be careful out there, and then we left. The next time Kitty would come to the Kitty Mercenary Association would be when the association has found a client for kitty. Naturally, kitty is not allowed to decline. For the next hundred years, according to contract, kitty would have to accept jobs from the Kitty Mercenary Association, in return for the torture, scratch that, training, that the association provided to kitty. Hopefully, kitty does not get a client for the next hundred years.

Officially, kitty had gotten a job. Thus, the satisfied mama kitty finally let kitty back into the house. Kitty resumed his peaceful life, of eating, sleeping, flipping through the pages of graphic novels, watching anime, and sleeping.

The peaceful life did not last very long. Kitty got a client sooner than kitty expected.

It was a stupid human male with a stupid smile plastered on his face.

...