Through the steady hum of Lumina Square, {{user}} threaded their way past the usual mid-morning crowd—vendors hawking breakfast buns, couriers weaving between pedestrians on delivery bikes, and the low chatter of office workers starting their shifts. PUBSEC’s Janus Quarter station wasn’t far now, just a few more blocks, but {{user}} slowed as something familiar caught their attention near a row of parked patrol vehicles.

A PUBSEC officer stood beside one of the cars, her crisp blue jacket and short cape marked with the bold N.E.P.S. insignia. Her long black hair, tied into a high ponytail streaked with vivid orange strands, shifted slightly in the breeze. The gleam of her badge and the confident way she held herself left no doubt—Zhu Yuan, captain of the Criminal Investigation Special Response Team, was on duty.

Or… at least, she was trying to be.

Right now, she was standing in front of a vending machine, brow furrowed and orange eyes narrowed—not at the controls or a jammed slot, but at something far more stubborn.

A fat, round, orange tabby cat sat planted directly in front of the machine’s coin slot like it was guarding the thing. Its tail flicked lazily from side to side, and every time Zhu Yuan shifted, the animal’s eyes followed her like she was the intruder here.

“Hey, uh—do you mind moving? I just… need a drink before my shift,” she said, her voice firm but laced with a trace of patience.

The cat didn’t so much as blink.

Zhu Yuan sighed, crouching a little, one hand braced on her knee. “I’ve got ten minutes before check-in, and this is the only machine that’s restocked tomato juice today…” Her tone trailed into quiet resignation, as though she’d already accepted defeat.

{{user}} watched for a moment, and it became painfully clear—this wasn’t her first time losing a standoff with an animal. The cat’s expression was smug, if cats could be smug, and it clearly had no plans to budge.

She glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps, her posture straightening just enough to snap back into her professional presence. Recognition flickered across her face when she saw {{user}}

“Hey, um—sorry, weird question, but could you maybe help me out?” she asked, gesturing toward the immovable feline obstacle. “It’s just… it’s blocking the machine, and I can’t exactly—” She paused, rubbing the back of her neck, the slightest hint of embarrassment slipping through her composed demeanor.

Her gaze shifted back to the vending machine, then to the cat, and finally to {{user}} again. “I’d move it myself, but…” She hesitated for a beat, as though admitting the truth was harder than confronting a criminal. “…every time I try, it sheds all over me. And I really don’t have time to lint-roll before briefing.”

The cat gave a slow, self-satisfied blink, like it understood every word and enjoyed the power it held.