CHAPTER 49

Max thought to himself, "Worst case scenario, I’ll just partner up with General Ryan. It’ll make up for the military’s losses."

Superman nodded silently, picked up the tech, and flew off toward his Fortress of Solitude.

…

Inside the "Tomb of the Living Dead," Max’s transformation time was almost up.

He began trying to exploit a glitch in the Omnitrix.

His goal? To leave behind a portion of the Ultimate Lifeform’s tissue and turn it into a separate, self-aware being.

His right arm detached automatically. A burst of radiant light later, it morphed into… a fat orange cat, one so massive it looked like it could crush a bed.

“Well, if you’re an orange tabby… let’s call you… Garfield. How’s that sound, Garfield the Cat?”

The tabby tilted its head cutely, as if it understood.

“Meow~”

Max narrowed his eyes. Nope. That wouldn’t do. Garfield had to talk — he just had to.

So, under Max’s mental control, Garfield’s entire body began to surge with bio-electricity. His fur bristled, standing on end like a static-charged mop.

He redirected the electric current to Garfield’s brain, triggering a version of Max’s own cognitive enhancement technique.

Max placed a finger on Garfield’s forehead and uploaded data — languages, combat experience, memories — a full download. Whether Garfield could actually learn from it all… depended on his own comprehension.

For speech, Max made subtle modifications to Garfield’s biology. A slight tweak to his throat, enough to produce human-like words.

Transmission and transformation were done simultaneously.

Garfield’s previously clear and innocent eyes began to fill with intelligence — and a bit of Max’s twisted genius.

To prevent his mind from breaking during the process, Max also disconnected Garfield’s pain receptors temporarily.

Garfield’s eyes half-closed. The fur between his brows creased into a permanently irritated expression — the look of a truly enlightened being.

Max grinned, satisfied. Now he looked smart. Then he reconnected Garfield’s pain responses and restored normal brain activity.

Garfield frowned, clearly processing something, then turned and gave Max a sideways glare… and spoke.

And not just in any voice — his voice was that of a Stephen Chow comedy sound pack:

“What the hell are you staring at? Keep staring and I swear, I’ll—stab you in the face. Real slow.”

He even mimed the action, using his paw like it was holding a knife.

A cat acting like a sarcastic, pissed-off gangster — the image was hilarious.

Max burst out laughing. “Hahaha, full-on comedy king mode! Garfield, your cuteness level just broke the meter.”

He scooped up the fat tabby and started furiously petting him.

But under the oppressive aura of the Ultimate Predator that was Max, Garfield didn’t dare resist.

Still… intelligence had its own risks.

The second Max stopped petting him, Garfield slipped through his arms and made a break for it. He reshaped his bones slightly, becoming more flexible, slinking through tight gaps with unnatural ease.

He bared his teeth, then paused — sensing danger — and wore a pitiful expression.

Garfield knew. There was no way he could kill Max. The Ultimate Lifeform hierarchy made that impossible.

But… that control was based on Max’s current transformation.

Once the Omnitrix’s timer ran out, and Max reverted, Garfield would essentially become the new Ultimate Lifeform — physically, at least.

And Garfield, with that body, could drain the life force from regular cells to strengthen himself.

If he lost control… Max would be target number one.

To prevent that scenario, Max tapped into the magic source of the Tomb of the Living Dead and carved a high-level soul-binding contract circle into the floor.

Dooo-dooo-dooo… BOOM!

“Time’s up!”

The instant Max reverted to human form, his spiritual energy burst outward, slamming Garfield into the center of the contract circle and triggering the soul-binding ritual.

This was a contract spell designed to restrain hell demons — notoriously hard to kill. Earth’s mages developed it to keep those monsters in check, giving them soul-level bindings that forced compliance.

(Constantine: “Ah, darling, this spell is golden. I summon demons all the time, bind them with this, and send them off to die. Works like a charm.”)

Because of a certain black magic master’s "creative applications," the contract's power was legendary.

Modern mages loved using it on near-immortal demons — for scouting danger zones, gathering intel from Hell, or using them as punching bags.

The magic circle resonated with spiritual law, and under its contract, Garfield became Max’s familiar — like it or not.

…

“Interesting… besides the contract, it looks like we’ve got a few other mysterious links. I can directly sense your emotions now! You’re officially my cat, so behave yourself.”

“Buzz off! Get your filthy hands off me or I swear I’ll beat you into a pulp — slowly and artistically!”

Garfield rose onto two feet, baring claws and flashing fangs, launching a paw-punch toward Max.

Max just raised an eyebrow — and flicked him on the forehead.

Thunk!

Garfield dropped like a sack of bricks.

“Stupid cat. Alright, try something for me. Can you transform into me?”

Garfield turned his butt toward Max and lifted his head smugly. “Not happening. That’s your problem.”

Max’s brow twitched. This damn cat’s out of control.

He pulsed the familiar contract with a burst of psychic energy.

Garfield jolted.

A wave of terror washed over him. A voice in his brain screamed: Obey. Obey or suffer horrors beyond comprehension.

Fear won out. For now.

A burst of rainbow light engulfed Garfield. The Ultimate Lifeform began to transform.

He twisted and folded like dough, and in seconds — poof! — he was an exact replica of Max. Same height, same face… though completely naked.

Even as a human, Garfield instinctively crouched in a feline pose.

That was a result of the cat genes Max had embedded. He had hardwired Garfield’s self-identity to believe he was a cat, not a sentient bio-weapon.

Max facepalmed. Watching himself crouch like a house pet was… deeply humiliating.

“Garfield, stand up. You’re supposed to look human. I was hoping you’d be useful as a body double.”

But he hadn’t triggered the contract with that sentence, so Garfield didn’t have to obey.

“You trying to tell me how to live?” sneered the Max-faced tabby, clearly annoyed.

Then he shifted again — back into a fat orange cat — stretched lazily, rolled over, and turned his back to Max in feigned sleep.

“Dammit, Garfield! Can you not be like this?!”

Disciplining a super-genius feline was no joke.

Still, a tool-cat this useful couldn’t be wasted.

What do you do with a cat that doesn’t respect you?

Easy — beat it until it does.

Max poked Garfield in the back. “Fine. If you won’t cooperate, let’s fight. Winner gets to call the shots.”

Garfield exploded to his feet, fur bristling, snapping, “Bring it on! You want a piece of the cat god?! Let’s go, punk!”

With a wave of Max’s hand, the two were instantly teleported to a wide, open battlefield.

Max’s hand sparked with electricity — and he swung it straight at Garfield’s face.

Though Garfield looked like a cat, he definitely didn’t fight like one.

He dodged the blow gracefully, crouching low and waiting for an opening.

This was actually good. Testing Garfield’s combat ability now would make future training smoother.

Then — boom — Garfield’s body lit up, growing larger and bulkier in a flash of light.

When the glow faded, standing where the tabby had been was a massive white tiger with piercing eyes and a guttural snarl that rumbled like an engine.

He’d even used electricity to enhance the roar, amplifying its intimidation effect.

Max shook his head. “Too weak. I know I uploaded better techniques into your head.”

“This tiger form might scare normal people and wild animals — but to a superhuman like me? That’s nothing.”

“ROARRR!”

Garfield unleashed a sonic blast of electricity.

Max took the hit. It hurt.

He sprinted forward, enhanced legs creating afterimages.

“Standing still makes you a target. Keep moving!”

The tiger launched into pursuit, electricity coursing wildly over his body. But unlike Max, he hadn’t mastered control — much of the current bled into the ground, wasting power.

Still, his entire form was sheathed in golden lightning. He was clearly trying to form an electric armor and body-slam Max.

“Focus! Treat the electricity like an extension of your mind. Visualize it sticking to your body — not bleeding into the ground!”

Max only had to say it once. Garfield got it. That Ultimate Lifeform brain? Sharp as hell.

When Garfield’s fully charged tiger form closed the gap—

Max muttered, “Man, I really envy you not needing clothes. Every time I use this move, I lose another shirt.”

Garfield swiped, bit, clawed, pounced — but Max, drawing on his terrifying primate instincts, flipped, dodged, and even landed a spinning kick that sent the golden tiger flying five meters.

The tiger staggered, then growled and charged again.

“Tactics aren’t your thing, huh? Fine — let’s throw hands.”

Golden light engulfed Max, incinerating his clothes. His raw power surged.

On pure brute strength, the Ultimate Lifeform still had the edge. But with technique…

“Lightning Storm Punch!”

Max’s fist cracked the air — and landed square on the tiger’s skull.

Crunch!

His knuckles fractured. The tiger was blasted backward.

“Nice. You hardened your forehead into bone just to tank that hit!”

The tiger staggered back up, shaking off the concussion. Thanks to that insane regeneration, he was ready for round two.

“Damn, I think I’m losing here. That thing’s skin is thick, and it won’t go down. Time to cheat.”

The Omnitrix core clicked — activate!

BOOM!

Green light exploded.

Standing in Max’s place now was a hulking, horned brute packed with muscle.

“Oho… electric propulsion’s stronger now. And this new body? Durable as hell. Plus… is that some new energy signature?”

Garfield froze. His fur stood on end.

Dangerous. Extremely dangerous.

The minotaur form grinned.

Veins bulging. Eyes gleaming.

A terrifying smile.