Cat 133: There’s a Cat Demon in this Instance

Chapter 133: There’s a Cat Demon in the Instance

[“Want to Be Human” Livestream]

“Is that player stupid, trying to tail our little cat? He really picked the wrong target this time.”

“Is this how you’re supposed to play this instance? I’m confused. Did the cat really spot the killer so quickly? Can someone tell me who the murderer is?”

“Are we sure it’s even a killer? Isn’t it possible it’s just a coincidence?”

“Huh? I thought this was an exam-style instance? I watched the opening and assumed it was all about test content, so I left. Can someone give a plot summary? I’m dying to know what happens! The little cat is always the MVP of story instances—no matter which copy he enters, I love watching!”

“I want to know what kind of story this copy has, too. Why didn’t the cat keep following Han Ruibai? He really has protagonist vibes—the only ones who almost get killed by villains, just like in a novel.”

“Girl above, are you just watching romances? Only in those do male leads narrowly escape deaths and miraculously get saved.”

“Isn’t Han Ruibai living out that exact plot? Gets dosed, the little cat shows up, and first thing after waking he sees his stepbrother Xue Ping. If the cat hadn’t figured out the truth first, Han might think Xue Ping saved him.”

“Seems like it. Every time the cat interacts with NPCs, their relationship is kinda… unspeakably suggestive.”

Yan Jiyun wanted to follow Long-Haired Number Two, but if he was discovered, the man certainly wouldn’t let him off so easily this time.

Was he really the killer? If it was him, how did he escape under everyone’s nose?

He’d tried to kill Han Ruibai earlier, but who was his next target?

Maybe someone else did the killing, but Long-Haired Number Two was most suspicious.

Like most players, Yan Jiyun rushed to the scene outside the teaching building to watch.

Aside from the players locked up in evening study, most were now openly gathering at the incident site.

The NPCs provided information about the victim.

“Ah! It looks like it’s Jiang Shiwen from Senior Three, Class Six!”

“My god—she fell from the building. Is she dead?”

“She’s smashed up like that—of course she’s dead.”

A player checked for a pulse: “She’s gone.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, every player present received a system task.

[Main Quest 1: The Death of Jiang Shiwen.]

[Quest Details: Find the murderer responsible for Jiang Shiwen’s death.]

Who was Jiang Shiwen?

Mingya High School’s teaching building had red brick walls, six floors, forming an L-shape. The long arm of the “L” had two entrances, the short side had one. Jiang Shiwen fell near the right of the second door on the long side.

Hiding behind the greenery, Yan Jiyun scanned the area. The NPCs wore the same expressions—some friends in tears, others more surprised than shocked.

Players began storming up the stairs to investigate everything tied to Jiang Shiwen. Yan Jiyun wasn’t in a hurry; with so many players squeezed onto campus, someone was bound to find useful info soon, and all he had to do was lurk in a corner and filter it out.

Usually, deduction copies like this shouldn’t have more than fifty players.

Yan had played murder mysteries with friends before—online groups rarely broke ten, offline groups four to eight max, never more than ten. Yet now one campus instance had a hundred players chasing a single case—it was like moving a whole police department out to investigate! A bit of overkill.

Of course, some players were still trapped in study hall, but even with half gone, fifty remained—still a large group.

Was Jiang Shiwen’s death just the beginning of the instance?

Was Long-Haired Number Two actually her killer?

He hadn’t simply happened to be there—it was premeditated?

To discover the truth, he needed to know if Long-Haired Number Two had met Jiang Shiwen, what would cause her death, and if the two were connected.

Jiang Shiwen was an important NPC. Unlike players, she didn’t just instantly vanish after death; her body remained at the scene for inspection.

Soon, police and forensics arrived, along with school administrators. The forensic team spoke directly with police about the cause of death, and Yan Jiyun, lingering behind, overheard assessment of the body.

She had indeed died from the fall, verified by forensics, and had no other injuries.

Once police removed Jiang Shiwen’s corpse, the school leaders and teachers remained. A young female teacher in her late twenties, presumably Jiang’s homeroom teacher, was weeping.

The principal said, “Ms. Lin, go and attend to your students.”

Wiping her tears, Lin replied, “She was such a good child. She would have gotten into a great university next year.”

The principal sighed.

Yan Jiyun waited for them to say more, but they fell silent.

Tch. The system never throws you a bone.

He saw Ms. Lin ascend the stairs and quietly followed her out of the bushes.

No one would notice a black cat at this hour—even if they did, who would care?

Strays were nothing unusual on campus.

Despite her sadness, Ms. Lin was fit and made it to the sixth floor without losing breath.

The senior classes were on the fifth and sixth floors—over twenty classes. Third and fourth were for juniors; freshman classrooms on the first and second.

The hallways were dim. Yan stuck to the shadows, tailing Ms. Lin into the staff room.

All on-duty teachers were still supervising night study sessions, but there were already a bunch of people in the office.

Yan Jiyun dove under a desk to avoid being spotted.

Ms. Lin, eyes still red, asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be in evening study? What are you doing here?”

The group of player-students all said they’d heard about Jiang Shiwen and wanted to help however they could.

Ms. Lin massaged her temples. “Just go back to class. The police will find the truth about Jiang Shiwen’s death.”

From under the desk, Yan saw that many teachers’ desks had been searched, apparently because the players hadn’t turned up any Jiang Shiwen-related clues.

Too many people—it was all chaos. Even if there was a clue, it wouldn’t have been left whole.

After Ms. Lin chased the players out, Yan listened to their whispered post-mortem.

“Jiang Shiwen had great grades, top three last term, and her test scores never slumped. She had no reason to kill herself.”

“This copy’s about singing, right? But she wasn’t in the art class, and wasn’t entering the national vocal competition. If it was rivalry over the competition, maybe another student killed her for it.”

“Let’s check who’s entering the national singing contest. Maybe Jiang Shiwen really was on the list?”

Yan had considered checking as well, but nothing so far pointed toward the nationals. Was her death really about the contest list?

Whether it was or not, the suggestion was sound—for now, national contest participants should be considered as leads.

He had one angle the others didn’t: investigating the mysterious Long-Haired Number Two.

The group was still debating: “Where do we even check the contestant list?”

“Shouldn’t it be the art class teachers’ job?”

“We’re all from regular classes—can’t we just ask a teacher?”

So the three went back to ask Ms. Lin who was in charge of nationals for the school.

Still shaken by the suicide, Ms. Lin wiped her face when they knocked.

“Is there anything else?”

“Teacher, do you know which teacher is in charge of the national singing competition?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure. I think it’s Mr. Qu from the art class, but I don’t recall exactly.”

“And where’s Mr. Qu’s office?”

“In Building B, the music block.”

Wasn’t the Zhudream Building the piano room building? For ease, the school just labeled buildings A through G. A was the teaching block, B the music building, C science, D administration, E the gym, F the library, G the cafeteria.

Dorms were labeled with numbers: girls’ buildings 1–3, boys’ 4–6, all fairly balanced.

The three players left right away for the music block.

Yan had just left the music building as well—Mr. Qu was gone, but maybe his office was worth searching.

After the three left, Ms. Lin cried a while longer, then went to comfort her class.

Yan didn’t follow the others to the music block; instead he remained alone in the empty office, scavenging.

He wanted to understand why Mingya High School had a separate music building. He needed to learn about the school’s history and uniqueness.

There ought to be a school pamphlet.

Never underestimate a simple commemorative booklet—it could have hidden clues. Games might throw red herrings, but never pure nonsense.

He flipped to the table of contents.

The booklet had four sections:

1. School History: detailing the school’s founding and notable events.
2. Distinguished Faculty: bios of top teachers and academics.
3. School Activities: awards in science, sports, art, music, competitions.
4. Future Outlook: fluff and PR, unimportant.

Yan Jiyun read the first three, focusing on the second and third.

Any decent high school would have top-notch academic faculty; advanced degrees were nothing new.

But standing out was Mr. Qu, an alumnus of a world-class conservatory, credentials more than enough for a professorship at the nation’s best universities. Mr. Qu really was unusually suspicious.

Why would someone with such a resume settle for a high school post?

He turned to the third section.

Mingya’s students won a slew of science and tech awards—all first or second place. But the musical honors outnumbered everything else. No wonder there was a whole music building; the school excelled in music and had sent many students on to conservatories.

Each year, at least one Mingya student placed in the national vocal competition’s top three—the art class was school’s pride.

No wonder they attracted someone like Mr. Qu after all.

On the surface, nothing seemed strange—other conservatory grads taught here too.

But Yan Jiyun still kept his attention on Mr. Qu, if only because he had a hidden quest tied to him.

Unable to take the booklet, he memorized the important bits and slipped out.

Passing classrooms, he overheard discussions about the suicide.

He’d already double-checked Jiang Shiwen’s files. She was in Senior Three (Class 6), an ordinary, academic-track student.

At the foot of the stairs, he heard a girl sobbing, another girl consoling her, and something the crying girl said made Yan stop short.

“Cheng Su, why would Jiang Shiwen jump like that? She was always so cheerful.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was academic stress? She woke every morning at five to study vocab, and would sneak a flashlight under her covers to study classical prose past midnight.”

“But her parents never pressed her—she was self-disciplined. I just don’t get it.”

Yan Jiyun agreed—she sounded like a good kid.

But the name Cheng Su rang a bell.

Then he recalled—she was the one who’d confessed to Han Ruibai, the girl Liu Yu liked. Friends with Jiang Shiwen?

Maybe this was an opening.

Most of what emerged from their conversation was just Jiang’s public persona.

Suddenly the crying girl clung to Cheng Su’s arm. “Cheng Su, do you think it’s that rumor?”

“What rumor?”

Her voice trembled. “The midnight piano. I heard that anyone who hears it dies. Last week, after evening study, Shiwen passed by the music building and heard it. Could that be it?”

Cheng Su paused, then said, “But it could just be an art class student practicing late. Don’t scare yourself. Art students have to work for college just like us. You know Han Ruibai? I caught him warming up at half past six once when I went to the broadcast station.”

Yan Jiyun thought Cheng Su sounded pretty steady. The crying girl calmed a bit.

Were Cheng and Jiang close?

He wanted to keep eavesdropping, but footsteps neared and he had to dash down the stairs.

At this hour, players were busy chasing clues, and NPCs who knew Jiang were in shock or grief—information was limited.

Somehow the clues circled back to the piano room rumor: Jiang had passed the music building and heard something that night?

Yan suspected the piano music was no accident. Could Mr. Qu be the one playing?

He made his way to the music building, hiding in the greenery. He hadn’t checked every floor yet—where was Mr. Qu’s office?

Other players had gone ahead; he’d wait until the coast was clear.

Mingya’s campus was large—running around had nearly burned off his whole dinner.

Cats were grazers by nature; too much at once made him sick, so he needed another meal before long.

With nowhere to sleep tonight, he sat and pondered beneath the music building, just under the players who rummaged through offices above.

He recognized their voices and footsteps—no wonder Li Yang, his roommate, liked to tail others; it saved so much time if someone else tripped the traps first.

The three tore apart Mr. Qu’s office but found nothing.

“Didn’t Lin say Mr. Qu handles the singing competition? Why is there no info, not even a list?”

“Maybe it’s in his computer and not printed?”

“Or maybe he took it home.”

“Or maybe it’s not him at all—Lin just said ‘I think.’ We didn’t find anything, so it might not be him. Let’s check other teachers’ desks.”

“Did you guys hear something strange? Like… piano music?”

“I didn’t, but I saw a shadow float by the window. Is this a ghostly instance? Didn’t an NPC mention the music building’s piano rumor?”

“But the details were never clear.”

“Shit, I—I—I saw another shadow at the window! Let’s get out of here!”

“Is this really a supernatural instance?”

“Maybe. Campus settings and supernatural legends go hand in hand.”

Yan Jiyun glanced at the window they spoke about—there was nothing there. Still, their speculation sent chills down his spine.

He knew there’d been nothing outside, but their words had raised the hair on his arms. Best not to go upstairs.

So he just sat below and listened to the three upstairs wrestle with their imaginary “ghost.”

“Didn’t imagine this would be a supernatural level. Didn’t bring any talismans!”

“Should we try to get to the bottom of the rumors anyway?”

“Shh, be quiet—the white shadow is coming!”

Yan nearly scratched his own limbs, wondering if supernatural stuff really existed here. If so, he was unprepared to handle it.

He hadn’t seen anything; maybe it was all hallucination?

“I can’t breathe—help—me—”

“Get away!”

Clang!

That was the sound of a stainless-steel thermos cup hitting the floor.

Yan considered, still unsure what was really happening.

By his logic, these three weren’t seeing ghosts, but had been drugged and were hallucinating.

The three on the second floor were likely fighting each other in confusion.

He knew he couldn’t help, but since they’d triggered the clue for him, maybe he should at least take a look.

He’d wanted to move on, but their voices grew weaker—like their breaths were fading.

Was something truly supernatural going on?

With the drama so close, he should at least check—even if it was mystical, there’d be three others with him, not just himself.

Oddly, several players had entered the building, but he’d seen none leave. Hadn’t even bumped into them.

Smoothly, Yan Jiyun scampered to the second floor and found the innermost office.

The door was slightly ajar; the three inside were still breathing, but barely. Yan felt fear rise—this was his first brush with the “supernatural.”

Backing to the door, he used his left hind leg to nudge it open, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

“Ugh—help—”

Creak~

A glossy black paw nudged the door.

Yan poked his head in. Empty—nothing there. The three players were just tangled on the floor, a knotted heap.

Whew.

He was right—just drugged, or tripping on something illicit.

Seeing nothing weird, he padded over and kicked each in the face—forgetting how little he weighed. The seven or eight pound cat had no impact, so he sharpened his resolve and unsheathed his claws, leaving three deep scratches on each player.

The pain snapped them to their senses, breaking their death grip on each other so they could breathe.

With that done, Yan Jiyun slipped out before they fully recovered.

If they’d found nothing in Mr. Qu’s office, it meant either he wasn’t involved, or the clue was kept somewhere closer to himself.

Where would that be—his residence? But where did he live?

Just then, Yan saw a long-haired figure in a baseball cap slip down the hall.

Long-Haired Number Two!

He chased after, careful to stay hidden.

He trailed him to the faculty dorms.

Having memorized the locations in the anniversary booklet, Yan realized only a few buildings were special—faculty dorms among them.

Should he keep following?

At that moment, Mr. Qu emerged from the main path, upright in a suit and arms full of class materials.

Looking at their profiles, Yan found Mr. Qu and Long-Haired Number Two eerily similar!

He checked his system’s hidden quest, wondering if he should keep following—an agonizing decision.

Meanwhile, the three players woken by a feline swipe all stared at each other. Each had three identical claw marks on their faces!

As one, the trio exclaimed, “There’s a cat demon in this instance!”