Noir is an intelligent black cat with amber eyes who lives in a warm, watercolor-like world. His favorite spot is the top of an old bookshelf in his owner's study, which serves as his private 'castle.' One afternoon, Noir's owner discovers a mysterious golden bookmark—a magical item that causes the story within a book to slightly overflow into reality. When a sudden wind carries the bookmark out the window, Noir embarks on his first adventure outside the house. Following clues through the town,
Noir the Cat and the Vanished Bookmark - Episode 5: Charcoal
Fog-shrouded London in the late 17th century.
Cobblestone alleys, old wooden houses, and cheerful songs spilling from pubs. In such a turbulent era of England, there lived one extraordinary black cat.
His name was **Charcoal**.
His sleek body was covered in smooth, short black fur like velvet, and the amber eyes that gleamed on his face shone with an eerie light in the darkness of night, like a polished jewel.
At that time in England, black cats were feared as "familiars of witches," but Charcoal used his overwhelming intelligence and agility to dart about behind the schemes of men.
# "Charcoal of the Clock Tower and the Secret Cipher"
Early autumn, London, 1666.
Charcoal's territory lay around an old clock tower situated along the Thames River. His main work was catching the mice that gnawed at the tower's timber. Yet during this season, an ominous air hung over the city.
One night, as Charcoal was grooming himself atop a beam of the clock tower, he spotted two men creeping into the darkness below. One was the clockmaker who maintained the tower. The other was a stranger in a suspicious overcoat.
"Are you ready? All preparations for the gunpowder are complete. We must deliver this signal letter to the French emissary by tomorrow night."
Just as the men exchanged such ominous whispers and placed a sealed envelope on a desk, Charcoal's amber eyes flashed with sharp intensity. Though he did not understand their words, his sensitive nose picked up the scent of "urgency" and "malice" that emanated from them.
The moment the men departed, Charcoal descended silently from the beam.
He then caught the sealed envelope with his sharp claws, took it in his mouth, and bolted through the open window into the night's darkness.
"Hey! That thieving cat! Catch it!"
The men's angry shouts echoed behind him, but Charcoal's short-furred, compact body moved as smoothly as wind cutting through air. He leaped across the rooftops of interconnected brick buildings, hid in the shadows of chimneys, and completely shook off his pursuers.
Charcoal made his way to the mansion of Samuel Pepys, a young scholar renowned throughout the city. Pepys was Charcoal's benefactor—he had once tended to the cat's injuries—and he was one of the rare "humans who loved black cats" in this city.
Scratching at the window of Pepys's study with his front paws, Charcoal slipped inside.
At the sight of the sealed envelope that dropped from his mouth, Pepys's eyes went wide.
"My, Charcoal. What an odd gift you've brought tonight... Eh? This is...!"
When Pepys opened the letter, he found a map of London's major buildings and strange ciphers arranged within. It was a plan written by conspirators intent on setting the city ablaze and using the chaos to overthrow the crown.
"This is terrible! I must rouse the guard immediately!"
Just as Pepys rushed from the room, an ominous crackling sound came from outside the window. The plot was already in motion. From the direction of Pudding Lane, where bakeries clustered densely, vivid flames began to scar the night sky—the beginning of the Great Fire of London, as history would record it.
The city was engulfed in flames in moments, and panic seized the people.
Pepys too found himself stranded in smoke-filled alleys, clutching important diaries and valuables. There was no way for a human to know which direction would lead to safety.
Then, before Pepys, appeared Charcoal, his amber eyes gleaming brilliantly.
With a sharp "Meow!" the black cat bolted toward the direction where the flames were thinnest. Despite being showered with sparks, Charcoal's wild instincts read the flow of smoke and discerned the safe route leading to the Thames River.
"Charcoal, I'll follow you!"
Pepys chased the black cat's back, desperately racing through the burning streets of London.
By the next morning, most of London lay in ashes, yet thanks to Charcoal's guidance, Pepys and many others had escaped to the river's boats and been saved. Furthermore, thanks to the letter Charcoal had delivered, the conspiracy to exploit the fire and seize power had been prevented.
On the riverbank where he had taken refuge, Pepys gently lifted Charcoal, his fur slightly smudged with soot, into his arms.
"You are no instrument of the devil. You are the finest black angel who saved this London."
Charcoal, nestled in Pepys's arms, narrowed his amber eyes with quiet pride, and as always, let out a soft, contented purr.
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