Cat 118: The Black Cat in the Bag

Chapter 118 The Black Cat in the Bag

[Want to Be Human] Livestream:

“Ahhhh, they made it!”

“A bunch of jockeys just fell right there! I could hardly bear to watch. Guys, did the kitten and Chasing Wind clear it?”

“They did, they’re through!”

“Why do you all sound like you’re celebrating surviving childbirth?”

“I’m breaking out in a cold sweat here—the game really knows how to mess with you.”

“What’s there to be afraid of? This isn’t the first time the kitten’s been in danger. He always escapes by the skin of his teeth. I believe he and Chasing Wind can make a great team.”

“But seriously, it’s only going to get crazier from here. The first three obstacles were easy enough. Even if they’ve passed the fourth, the next ones—five to twelve—just escalate in difficulty, one freakier than the last. I really don’t want to see the kitten eliminated; my nerves can’t take it.”

The race continued.

After clearing the fourth obstacle with Chasing Wind, Yan Jiyun soon faced the next challenge.

The fifth obstacle was the cheval de frise he’d spotted earlier; if Chasing Wind couldn’t make the jump, they’d be finished right there.

It was natural to be worried—Chasing Wind was a system-provided mount, and Yan Jiyun couldn’t be sure if it had some kind of hidden factory setting, like a “can’t jump more than this far” built-in limit.

But so far, the NPCs he’d encountered didn’t seem artificially restricted—at least, when it came to animals, aside from that freakish pegasus, the rest all acted more or less by normal standards.

The cheval de frise was a tool from ancient warfare—failing to clear it wasn’t unusual. Not making it now would mean paying with their lives; they simply had to get over.

Clearing the fourth obstacle nudged them to the middle of the pack, with several jockeys already eliminated.

The closer Yan Jiyun got, the better view he had of the fifth obstacle. He saw blades and spikes embedded in the frames—difficulty worthy of a demon.

Chasing Wind showed no signs of slowing; in fact, the speed picked up, making Yan Jiyun feel himself take flight again!

Jumping, soaring—he relished that fraction of a second of weightlessness, adrenaline coursing, heart pounding with the thrill.

He didn’t bother with pep talks, but relied on his feline reflexes, jumping in sync with Chasing Wind. Remaining human-shaped didn’t impede his reaction time at all.

Chasing Wind sailed over the cheval de frise with ease!

“Chasing Wind, brilliant!” Yan Jiyun gave the horse an encouraging pat on the neck.

As expected of Chasing Wind—living up to his name, formidable as ever.

The run continued—they overtook at least three jockeys at the cheval de frise, which knocked out several others as well.

Now, just twenty-two left on the course!

Yan Jiyun and Chasing Wind sat in tenth place, right in the middle—neither conspicuous nor trailing behind.

He said, “Seven obstacles left, Chasing Wind. Want to just blast through together?”

Chasing Wind’s mane streamed in the wind, a sign of excellent health and beauty—a truly fine horse.

He seemed to enjoy Yan Jiyun’s idea.

He hadn’t yet reached his race speed, but now, sensing the moment, Chasing Wind accelerated, with no further prompting from Yan Jiyun needed.

Their coordination leveled up again!

They cleared the sixth obstacle—the seventh—the eighth—the ninth—

Reaching the tenth, the difficulty rose again!

With their combined effort, they’d climbed from tenth to fifth place, with only four ahead to surpass.

Each jockey handled their mount with ease, the partnerships smooth and practiced.

Yan Jiyun wasn’t counting on mistakes from the leaders; instead, he concentrated solely on the challenges ahead.

Only three obstacles left!

He cautioned Chasing Wind, “Be careful of what’s coming—we can’t get greedy now. You’re the best, Chasing Wind, keep going!”

The second round was at least safer—no jockeys carried weapons; the real hazard was the obstacles themselves.

The tenth was a high-walled, thorn-covered double barrier.

Yan Jiyun and Chasing Wind had faced a similar one earlier, but he doubted the game would duplicate its challenges—there must be a trap lurking behind those walls.

They were now just four or five meters from third place, but twenty to thirty meters from the lead—no time to observe what the front pack would do.

Suddenly, the leader slowed dramatically. Second place took the opportunity to surge by, speeding up.

But the former leader was clearly using the second rider as a test dummy, letting him take the risk on the tenth obstacle first.

Excitement in the moment can blind you to details: the second jockey and his horse jumped the wall with apparent ease.

But just as everyone relaxed, the horse and rider toppled, both crying out in pain.

A trap, hidden beyond the vines.

Yan Jiyun soothed Chasing Wind, gently patting his neck—the wall hid a trap, but with no way to see what was ahead, neither horse nor rider could know for sure.

As Chasing Wind’s temporary master, he desperately hoped the horse would be safe.

What now?

With one of the front four out, Yan Jiyun and Chasing Wind could maintain their rank simply by jumping now.

The former leader, with the way now cleared, jumped effortlessly.

Glancing back at his rivals, the leader’s expression radiated contempt—certain that no one could follow.

The third jockey followed suit after the leader and also cleared safely. Now the pressure was on Yan Jiyun and Chasing Wind.

There was no time for indecision. With Chasing Wind’s powerful hindquarters, Yan Jiyun had every confidence in their jump.

He built up Chasing Wind’s confidence once more: “We can do this, Chasing Wind.”

Chasing Wind didn’t slow—if anything, his legs blurred with speed—then leapt. In midair, Yan Jiyun caught sight of the iron fence that had downed rider two.

But the fallen jockey and horse had disappeared, no grisly scene left behind—clearly the NPCs exited on failure.

He trusted Chasing Wind, and was not disappointed—the jump was clean, making them the third to clear the tenth obstacle.

Just two left.

He needed to move up one more spot to clear the mission!

Yan Jiyun didn’t rely on others to fail; deep down, he wanted Chasing Wind to overtake through raw skill—it would boost morale and spirit for both.

Obstacle eleven was just ahead.

While approaching the tenth, first and third slowed down, allowing Yan Jiyun to close the gap—it wouldn’t take much to catch the current second place.

He had to clear that eleventh obstacle!

“Chasing Wind, one last push—let’s go!”

Obstacle eleven was grueling, but with ten already behind them, Chasing Wind’s confidence soared—no hesitation now.

The leader still intended for someone else to risk the danger first, but second place had learned his lesson and slowed accordingly; only Yan Jiyun and Chasing Wind charged ahead at full speed.

Yan Jiyun didn’t even glance at the lead pair; he fixed his gaze on the towering vegetation atop the barrier—a solid 1.7 or 1.8 meters high, completely blocking the view beyond.

Picking the point to jump was everything.

No matter what, he meant to finish in the top two—even if he had to leap off a cliff.

Chasing Wind might not know his words, but encouragement he would grasp.

Just two left.

All sides—live and in the livestream—were at their breaking point.

To the audience, Yan Jiyun and Chasing Wind were the ultimate dark horse; to the stream viewers, he was literally gambling with his life.

[Want to Be Human] Livestream:

“Will he make it past the eleventh?”

“He should—the last one will be the real test.”

“Chasing Wind’s gone for it! Isn’t that jump a little far?”

“Oh no, can they even make it? The bush completely hides the landing—this is a blind leap, and it’s a big one too.”

“Damn damn damn, I can’t watch!”

At that moment, Yan Jiyun could barely keep his eyes open—praying for Chasing Wind to perform just one more miracle.

Yet he kept his eyes on the course: Chasing Wind had confidence, and so did he. He felt the horse’s forehooves strike ground.

They made it!

A thunderous ovation thundered through the stands.

But Chasing Wind didn’t rest after that daunting jump—still fired up, there was one last challenge.

The twelfth and final.

Perhaps the game had heard his earlier complaints, because the last obstacle was an actual cliff!

Below it, a seemingly bottomless abyss.

The livestream chat blew up—was this the end for the kitten?

If he made it, it would be the thrill of a lifetime!

Yan Jiyun tensed. Chasing Wind didn’t falter.

The commentators were frantic.

Announcer 1: “Oh my God, is Number 19 really going to tackle the last obstacle head on?”

Announcer 2: “Number 19’s Chasing Wind is today’s wildest dark horse—he might even take down the reigning champ!”

Announcer 1: “Can he really clear this twelfth obstacle? Many have stopped here, refusing to attempt it.”

Announcer 2: “Yes, Number 19’s already taken the lead—he could stop here and still win first place.”

Announcer 1: “Maybe it’s youth and pride; if he jumps this one, he’ll be a new legend!”

Announcer 2: “Ah—Number 19—he’s jumped—”

Yan Jiyun had no idea he could decline the last obstacle. He hadn’t studied this kind of course before; to him, the natural thing was to finish what he’d started, and besides, Chasing Wind was running wild—the horse wasn’t stopping for anything.

Holy hell—a CLIFF!

As Chasing Wind launched into the jump, Yan Jiyun’s mind went blank, hands numb on the reins, not daring to look down.

He mustn’t fall!

Chasing Wind, just this once, you have to make it! Damn, he could almost cry.

Otherwise, they’d both meet again at the bottom of the gorge.

In that handful of seconds, Yan Jiyun felt as though he lived an entire year; sweat soaked him down to his bones.

Thudthudthudthudthud!

In a daze, Yan Jiyun realized he still had a seat—he’d hunched down, but was still squarely in the saddle, not plummeting to his doom, not providing fresh data for a falling-man/horse experiment.

They’d survived.

A dozen meters still to go and Chasing Wind was flying, braver even than Yan Jiyun himself.

First place, at last—thrilling, hard-won!

Yan Jiyun clutched the reins for a long time before finally releasing the breath he’d been holding, nearly giving himself a stitch.

After the finish, a delayed wave of emotion hit—he hugged Chasing Wind’s neck.

“Good job, Chasing Wind! Goddamn it, you’re amazing. I’d call you our guardian angel.”

He was used to leaping and climbing alone; riding another animal with his life on the line, it was intense—more fearsome than anything before.

He’d barely held onto his life.

Yan Jiyun needed time to recover—the storm of applause and cheers faded to white noise.

Even with victory in the second round, his legs were jelly; he was terrified he’d collapse as soon as he dismounted.

Once he got his breath back, he slid off Chasing Wind, careful not to burden him.

Still, his legs were shaking, and his backside numb—he had to lean on Chasing Wind for support.

Why, oh why, had he come to the Horse Gate to suffer like this? What was he thinking?

Next up: the third race, and only ten minutes to recover.

Yan Jiyun collapsed onto the grass, unwilling to move an inch.

“Ah, why is my life so hard?”

Chasing Wind circled him, neither grazing nor drinking from the stream.

Propping his chin on his hand, Yan Jiyun asked, “Were you scared of that cliff?”

Chasing Wind gave his calf a light nudge.

“So you were,” Yan Jiyun interpreted.

Chasing Wind stamped the grass, tossing a few blades onto Yan Jiyun’s pale cheeks.

He patted his own chest: “Chasing Wind, don’t get too cheeky with me.”

Chasing Wind stood placidly to rest—they still had one last trial together.

Yan Jiyun had gnawed a cucumber slice before entering—now, hunger gnawed at him.

After leaving the Horse Gate, he’d have to find a good meal.

Inside Angel City’s games, the system was nearly invisible—everything left to NPCs and player-driven events.

The ten-minute break vanished in a blink.

Wound tight by nerves, Yan Jiyun couldn’t truly relax.

The third round: a cross-country race.

Three minutes before the start, the field swelled again—Yan Jiyun counted nearly fifty jockeys and horses.

The coming cross-country would be even fiercer than before.

Obstacle courses were thrilling, but cross-country reverted to a pure race: fastest to the finish claimed victory. Yan Jiyun noticed riders with bulging pockets and covers—clearly concealing unsavory weapons.

He still had no weapon of his own, and eyed the forest with suspicion.

Wait—was this the infamous Devil’s Forest?

The riders lined up, and announcers returned.

Hyped-up commentators introduced the raw, natural obstacles the participants would soon face.

“This year’s cross-country passes through Devil’s Forest—a thirty-kilometer trek, more hazardous and exciting than ever before. Same distance as last year, but the danger and challenge levels have doubled. Riders, give it your all—but stay safe.”

“Please remember to stay on the marked course. Straying outside the competition area will be extremely dangerous.”

“This year’s victory criteria are strict: only riders who reach the finish line with their horses are considered winners.”

“The race begins in three minutes—riders, please be ready.”

The mention of Devil’s Forest made Yan Jiyun’s scalp tingle—he knew exactly what perils lurked within. He recalled the early batch of players, who were first to reach Angel City by horse. He’d heard horseback was the safest way through, while pegasi and bikes offered no such guarantee, and walking was by far the most perilous. But why did ground-running horses avoid so many of the dangers?

His real worry now: all those competitors with stuffed shoes and pockets—no doubt plotting to sabotage others for a win.

He mounted Chasing Wind and rode over to the stands, where he asked a pretty lady with a cloth bag, “Hello, may I borrow your bag? I’ll return it after the race.”

The woman replied kindly, “Of course. It’s nothing valuable—take it, and inside are some corn cakes I made this morning. Eat them if you’re hungry. Brave young man, I’ll be cheering for you.”

Yan Jiyun took the bag with thanks, hanging it on the saddle and giving it a few tugs to be sure it would stay put during the ride.

Time was up; the bell sounded.

Yan Jiyun patted Chasing Wind’s neck. “Let’s go, Chasing Wind!”

As always, each round brought new NPC jockeys. Yan Jiyun hung back in the pack, never rushing out in the lead.

There was a short stretch before the forest; everyone tried to be first into the Devil’s Forest.

That remembered aroma of roasting meat from his last visit made him even hungrier.

Maybe, just maybe, this Devil’s Forest would be different?

He could hope—but he wasn’t naïve enough to believe a game would use the same name for two different maps.

Thirty kilometers—at a horse’s max speed of sixty per hour, it would take at least half an hour—likely closer to a full hour with obstacles.

As the woods closed around them, the light dimmed. Jiyun and the other jockeys thundered in—the air filling with the sound of hooves and a rising cloud of dust.

Inside, the trail was rough and uneven—speed would depend on the horse’s stamina and surefootedness.

The course was clearly pre-marked. Directional arrows on the trees showed the way.

Yan Jiyun blended into the main pack, keeping low profile and a gentle hand on the reins to manage Chasing Wind’s speed.

Gradually, the mass split into three groups: the front runners desperate for a win, a second group (his own) holding back to observe—and the tail group, probably made up of slightly weaker riders.

Ten minutes in, everyone was still focused on the track—no nonsense yet.

First came uphill stretches, then down; after cresting, they had to ford a river.

The river was fairly deep but manageable. Riders dismounted to lead their horses through, then remounted on the far bank.

So far, so calm.

Until they reached an open patch. With no more pebbles or branches to worry about, the riders bunched up and accelerated.

Yan Jiyun did the same, but applying lessons from earlier rounds, he made sure to put at least two meters between himself and anyone else—never just 1.9.

Though this was a woodland, the floor was flat and covered in leaves—no issue for galloping horses.

Unlike his last visit, this Devil’s Forest was alive with birds and insects—no octopus beasts, no people-eaters. Just a more punishing path than normal.

Just as Yan Jiyun began to think the only challenge would be a hard ride, trouble erupted up ahead—a tripwire had been set across the path, sending a front-running rider sprawling.

Yan Jiyun reined in Chasing Wind instantly. The lead group had laid a trap, and who knew what else might be up there.

With trouble claimed at the front, a ripple of hesitation spread through the jockeys behind.

Yan Jiyun warned Chasing Wind, “Let’s slow down, be careful, and watch for their traps.”

While others hesitated, Yan Jiyun and Chasing Wind surged forward. With the tripwire already exposed, they hopped over it easily.

The forest was broad, but the course itself was narrow—he knew better than to wander off it now, not knowing the route. There could be more traps ahead; finding a detour (Plan A) was off the table.

The other second group riders didn’t follow him—soon it was just Yan Jiyun and Chasing Wind on the trail.

He asked, “Bet it’s easier to walk without me weighing you down, hm?”

Chasing Wind snorted in reply.

A grown man’s weight was a burden, undeniably. If he wanted to catch the lead group, he’d need to try his first idea—Plan B.

The stakes for this race were high: only first place would earn the info card—Yan Jiyun simply had to win.

“Chasing Wind, I’ll lighten the load. Keep running for the finish! I’ll reach it with you!”

A horse with no jockey was sure to be written off—no one would expect a hidden competitor.

He glanced at his experience card:

[Human Form Experience Card: 3 seconds remaining]

No more players in sight, no NPCs—why waste the card?

Chasing Wind suddenly sensed he was lighter—and, in place of a rider, a black cat now occupied the right pouch of the saddlebag.

At the last instant, Yan Jiyun had ducked into the bag as his timer ran out, switching position so his hind legs were in the bag, one paw on the saddle, the other patting Chasing Wind’s side: Go, Chasing Wind!

Farther down the trail, two horses had stopped, their riders hiding in wait to ambush the next group, only to see an unaccompanied horse barreling toward them.

“That horse doesn’t even have a rider; should we bother with our trap?”

“What’s the point? Even if that horse finishes first, it doesn’t count without a jockey.”

Inside the bag, Yan Jiyun thought: Oh dear, these NPCs are still a little too green.