Bronze door through time and space

Chapter 910 Nine Cats Unpacking the Box
The aroma of food, wafting from hundreds of people dining at the same time, grew stronger and began to spread along the gaps in the pipes, quietly drifting into dark and narrow corners. Suddenly, pairs of scarlet eyes lit up.

The high nun, who was praying, keenly noticed something unusual and immediately realized that the space rats were attracted by the smell of food.

However, she showed no panic whatsoever; instead, a slight smile curved her lips.

Comfort and warmth were never their goals in their training. Since boarding the Golden Throne, they always felt that they lacked the tempering of their will. Now that the test had come to them, it couldn't be better. So they picked up their power swords and called on the newcomers to prepare for battle.

"Sisters, the test is here!"

The young nuns moved in perfect unison, instantly putting down their spoons without a second thought for the unfinished food, and immediately grabbing their weapons to prepare for battle.

These young women showed no fear in their eyes; instead, their eyes shone with eager anticipation.

According to the teachings of the scriptures, every battle is a testament to faith, and every defeat of evil is a way to express loyalty to the Emperor.

A sharp screech erupted from the shadows of the warehouse district, followed by a dense swarm of dark figures surging in like a tide.

Those were space rats, comparable in size to hunting dogs. Their bodies were covered in messy, dark brown fur, and their strong limbs supported their muscular bodies. Each stomp left a trail of pale white claw marks on the metal floor. Their sharp teeth gleamed with a cold, chilling light, like poisoned daggers. Their scarlet eyes were fixed on the nuns, filled with greed and ferocity.

These were nothing like the tiny creatures in the ancient Terran memories, especially compared to the docile thumb rats of the northern regions; they were ferocious beasts from hell.

However, what is most frightening about space mice is not their fighting ability, but their amazing reproductive capacity. They can have one litter per month, with a litter of ten to twenty mice. In just one week, the pups can forage for food on their own, and there is no problem of inbreeding.

Moreover, once the number reaches a certain critical point, special mutants such as the Space Ratmen may emerge, which is equivalent to giving the group a leader and a brain, making it more organized and threatening.

In theory, a male and a female space rat could establish a vast space rat empire on a warship, so rat extermination is a very important matter for the imperial warships.

Soon, a swarm of dark space rats pounced on her, some leaping up to attack her face, others tearing at her legs. Given the ferocity of the space rats, she would be crippled if she didn't die.

The High Priestess was the first to meet the attack, her powered greatsword whistling through the air as it swung. Wherever the blade passed, the space rats were cleaved in two, their blood splattering onto the ground and forming various patterns.

The young nuns were equally fierce, wielding their weapons to kill hordes of rats.

However, space mice have never relied on individuals, but rather on their sheer numbers.

More space rats poured out from every corner of the warehouse area, and the dead rats were quickly trampled underfoot by their successors, trying to overwhelm the nuns like a tidal wave.

Suddenly, the space rats, which had been frantically attacking, seemed to be greatly frightened. They stopped attacking and, disregarding the threat of the nuns' weapons, began to scatter and flee.
The High Priestess went the deepest, and therefore was the first to see what was behind her.

Several agile figures darted back and forth among the rats, their movements so fast they almost left afterimages. This speed and reaction were beyond human capabilities, at least not those of an ordinary human.

One of the figures, dressed in a black, tight-fitting combat suit, was closer. The High Sister of Saints noticed that the figure had a pair of pointed cat ears and a white tail that swung nimbly in the air behind it, and immediately realized that it was a cat-human among demi-humans.

These cat-people wielded two extremely sharp short blades, each swing precisely slicing through the space rat's vitals with the swiftness of cutting butter.

However, compared to actual fighting, they seemed to be toying with each other, or rather, torturing each other.

Often, rather than a swift and decisive fatal blow, they prefer to dislocate the cervical spine and then watch the space rat twitch and struggle on the ground, which is quite a twisted pleasure.

The High Sister of Saints hesitated for a moment, but ultimately did not choose to attack. She had read in the holy scriptures that cat people were among the few demi-humans who were classified into the Empire by the Emperor and enjoyed the same treatment as humans.

She also realized that these cat-people were the mouse catchers the manager had mentioned.

The remaining space rats quickly disappeared without a trace. The dense network of pipes in the warship's lower deck resembled crisscrossing passages, and the complex mechanical structure concealed countless narrow gaps. These had long since become the space rats' natural haven and refuge. Even the agile cat-people could only watch helplessly as they escaped, unable to exterminate them.

"Meow~ It's a nun."

Do you also worship emperors?

"Why don't you have hair?" "I'll treat you to rats, they're delicious."

"Yes, it tastes better than canned food."

"Oh no, the manager is here!"

Nine cat-people with different furs were surrounding the tense nuns, displaying their seemingly endless curiosity. Every now and then, they would tug at the only piece of cloth covering the nuns' bodies. Suddenly, the nine cats pricked up their ears, their pupils shrank to slits, and then they grabbed the space rats on the ground and fled at top speed.

"For the sake of the Emperor, put the rat down!" Mickey arrived panting with a group of armed guards from the lower deck, but they couldn't even catch a single cat hair; the cat-men were too fast.

He sighed helplessly, having lost count of how many times this had happened.

“Manager, those are their spoils of war. I think they deserve to enjoy their prey.” Although the space ratmen were ferocious, their meat was undeniably delicious, one of the delicacies in the lower deck. Therefore, the High Sister Saint mistakenly thought that Manager Mickey intended to snatch the space rat carcasses from the catmen.

“High Sister, I don’t intend to steal their spoils. It’s just that the Legion has rules against eating any plants or animals that are not part of the standard rations, including space rats. They carry too many germs, and there’s a risk even if they’re cooked,” Mickey said with a sigh.

"And look, this is canned food I brought especially for them. It has chicken, rabbit, fish, and snacks with hairball remedy. They've all been strictly inspected. I think this is much better than space mice," Mickey said, pointing to the boxes of canned food that the people were putting down.

The High Priestess looked at the decent-quality canned food and, recalling the cat-man's excited expression when he handed her the mouse, said with a hint of helplessness.

"They clearly prefer fresh food to canned food."

At the same time, the High Priestess had to admit that these cat-people were indeed treated quite well on the warship.

"Oh well, if we can't catch up, we can't catch up. We're used to it." Mickey waved his hand, seemingly having already accepted the outcome.

“Your Excellency, I’ve left the canned food in this warehouse. If you see the rat catchers, please tell them this is this week’s ration.”

Martha nodded in agreement. Although the canned food was delicious, she trusted that her sister wouldn't steal any.

“A lot of space rats died this time, so they will obviously be much more relaxed and have extra energy to release. Therefore, please do not let them sneak into that warehouse, so as not to cause unnecessary losses.” Mickey entrusted this matter to the High Sister, who agreed without hesitation and did not ask what was stored in the warehouse, because she knew that both the Empire and this warship hid many secrets, and the best way to keep secrets was not to inquire about them.

Mickey breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Martha agreed so readily, and began to lead the guards to clean up the battlefield.

All the corpses of the space ratmen would be incinerated and converted into low-level energy, and then chemicals would be sprayed to break down the bloodstains while killing bacteria and viruses. He was obviously telling the truth; the warship did indeed pay great attention to hygiene, which dispelled the idea of ​​Sister Sainte changing the menu.

After Mickey and the others left, the warehouse area returned to calm, leaving only the nuns to continue their practice and then rest.

"Oh no!" The High Priestess, jolted awake, grabbed her weapon and rushed toward the warehouse at top speed, but she was too late. The clever cat-man had already escaped, leaving behind only snowflakes of toilet paper scattered everywhere and the opened boxes.

Then she remembered something the manager had said casually: "The bigger the cat, the more destructive it is."

Clearly, it won't be long before some crew members run out of toilet paper to wipe their bottoms.

The senior sister of Saints is now torn between whether or not to be generous and share their share of toilet paper with the crew members who have no paper.

In the end, she felt that this might be a test given to those people by the emperor, and she believed that they would be able to overcome the difficulties.

Ascetic practices are one thing, and piety is another, but wiping your own mess empty-handed is a no-go.

However, the High Priestess viewed this as a form of training, and every week she would send a different sister to guard the warehouse, with the loser being punished.

However, the punishment at the Saints' Monastery wasn't suitable for the unlucky cat-man stuck in the box, so...
“Then shave the hair off her head as punishment,” the High Sister Saint said, her mood slightly pleased.

"Meow?!"

(End of this chapter)