Reborn as My Archrival's Cat

I am a woman who stirs up trouble, commits every kind of misdeed, and is ruthless, heartless, and disloyal. I lived to the age of twenty-five, with more than twenty thousand offenses on my record.

Hell is the only place I'm headed.

What I never expected was that after I died, I would turn into a cat and be adopted by my sworn enemy.

We've been bitter rivals for years, enemies to the death.

This is a punishment more cruel than going to hell!

But it didn't take long for me to realize that being a cat is way better than being human.

Every day, I ignore my sworn enemy, use her drinking cup to wash my paws, and beat her up and dance on her while she sleeps. Not only does she not get angry, she acts meek and cautious as she waits on me, making sure I'm perfectly comfortable.

To communicate with me better, she even bought a set of voice buttons, hoping to win me over with patience and love.

Just to make her miserable, I never cooperate.

Then, on the anniversary of my death, she got drunk, held my photograph, and quietly wept as she murmured my name.

My fur immediately stood on end. I leaped onto the table and mashed the voice buttons: "Shut up! Shut up! Noise! Noise! It hurts! Shut up! Noise! Get out!"

Under my barrage of voice messages, my sworn enemy looked up at me in surprise. Gradually, her eyes widened, and she froze completely.

I smugly lifted my paw, ready to lick my fur, when I noticed in horror that my paw had turned into a hand.

A human hand.