Cat 135: The Cat Demon Appears Again

Chapter 135: The Cat Demon Appears Again!

Yan Jiyun’s hunger was pure instinct, likely triggered by the scent of meat drifting in from the living room.

Qu Number Two left the study with clear impatience, but instead of letting Yan Jiyun out, he shut the door behind him.

Yan Jiyun glared at the door and let out a furious, “Meow!”

Strangely, he’d called loudly, yet outside, Mr. Qu didn’t even respond or come to let him out. Didn’t he hear him?

He couldn’t hear any conversation between the brothers, either—their relationship was obvious enough; no need to keep secrets from a cat.

After Qu Number Two left, Yan Jiyun checked the list one last time, confirming he missed nothing, then put everything back exactly as he’d found it.

Not long after, Qu Number Two brought back the beef Mr. Qu had made—it was steaming hot, sliced into pieces for convenience with kitchen scissors. The only problem was it was too hot for a cat to eat.

Qu Number Two set the plate carelessly atop the list, the damp plate bottom leaving a wet stain on the paper.

Luckily, Yan Jiyun had already memorized it; once the plate was moved, the list would probably be ruined.

It was a boiled steak, obviously Mr. Qu’s handiwork.

Qu Number Two grabbed a hunk of meat with his bare hands.

Yan Jiyun’s eyes followed his hands, inwardly mocking: Who still eats meat with their hands these days?

Qu Number Two sneered, “Smells good, doesn’t it?”

Yan Jiyun thought silently: It does smell good.

With a twist, Qu Number Two waved the beef under his nose: “But you only get to smell it.”

Yan Jiyun: You know this kind of human gets scratched by cats, right?

Ignoring the hand, Yan simply stretched out a paw, hooked a chunk, and stuffed it straight into his mouth.

The meat was just the right temperature, and he had no trouble eating it.

Remembering those stories of cats choking themselves to death by eating too fast, Yan chewed thoroughly before swallowing—no need to rush.

Qu Number Two watched, eye twitching as Yan calmly went for another piece.

Who was playing with whom? What he saw as a single bite, the cat saw as a whole plate.

Yan Jiyun trusted the food was clean, and filled his empty stomach one bite at a time. Finishing half the plate, he was full—maybe a little too full.

He was only six months old, not yet an adult cat; his appetite wasn’t the same. He realized he should be eating kitten food instead.

He hopped to the floor to digest, waiting by the door for Qu Number Two to let him out. The rest of the meat could be his—he still seemed hungry.

But Qu Number Two just sprawled lazily in his chair, legs apart, not budging in the slightest.

Seeing that, Yan Jiyun prepared to show off his door-opening skills.

Just then, the door gave a click.

Mr. Qu opened the door and walked in.

Spotting Yan at the door, he asked, “Wuyun, when did you get in here?”

Yan gestured with his head to indicate Qu Number Two had let him in—only to discover he was gone!

Wh—where did he go?

Don’t do this in the dark—so creepy!

There was nowhere to hide someone of Qu Number Two’s build in the room. Did he squeeze under the desk, or escape out the window?

Yan moved to check under the desk, but before he could look, Mr. Qu scooped him up.

Could this be like that “supernatural” incident with the three players? No way, right? This couldn’t be a ghost instance… right?

Both Qu brothers had a mischievous streak—maybe this was just a trick.

That had to be it—it wasn’t supernatural.

But as he noticed Mr. Qu’s total ignorance of Qu Number Two, Yan’s nerves crept up again.

So he clung to Mr. Qu’s hand, hugging it in a frenzy: Please, let’s get out of this room!

Mr. Qu was very pleased with Wuyun’s sudden trust, a gentle smile touching his lips. “Wuyun’s such a good cat—I’m so happy.”

[“Want to Be Human” Livestream:]

“Oh my god, I want the kitten to hug my hand too!”

“Aaaah, Mr. Qu’s smile is stunning! I’ve never seen him this gentle before—not in any other run. He looks so adorable.”

“The cat is a master—one move and he’s inside Mr. Qu’s heart. Being hugged by a cat is the most satisfying thing ever—trust me!”

“I think the cat is just scared after seeing Qu’s twin brother magically vanish—not acting cute to a new owner. Mr. Qu’s got the wrong idea. I’m evil; I wish I could tell him the truth, so he could pinch the kitten’s chin and say, ‘Wuyun, are you lying to me?’”

“Girl above, you’re too good! I can totally picture it—more, more!”

Yan didn’t care whether Mr. Qu was happy—all he wanted was to leave the room as quickly as possible.

Was Qu Number Two really human?

He’d assumed, from their identical looks, they were twins. Now he wasn’t so sure.

He started examining the details in Mr. Qu’s home.

Only one pair of slippers by the door; only one cup on the table; just one set of dishes on the dining table. This was a single’s apartment, everything arranged for one.

Or maybe, on purpose?

Perhaps they did live together, but kept everything looking as if it was a single occupancy.

He’d read plenty of detective novels about twin crimes: one provides the alibi, the other acts, one bright, one shadowed. If you didn’t dig deep, the police would never realize the truth.

Was that Qu’s game as well?

It was more logical than supernatural explanations—Qu as his own “shadow.” But was it necessary?

Unless, they had some hidden purpose for being here.

For now, he had the most important thing: the list.

Mr. Qu was still basking in Wuyun’s kittenish cuddles.

Yan Jiyun, meanwhile, noticed another fresh steak on the table.

So, it had all been a game between the two brothers!

Mr. Qu had made two steaks, sending one to the study for Number Two, who’d then shared with him.

Maybe it was arranged like that: one active in the living room, the other like a shadow behind the scenes.

Relief—at least it wasn’t ghosts.

Anything is better than supernatural horror. Even murder is less frightening.

Mr. Qu didn’t touch the steak; he put Yan on a chair and asked, “Do you want to eat?”

Yan was stuffed and didn’t feel the slightest bit hungry.

Freed from Mr. Qu’s grasp, he hopped onto the sofa to let his food digest.

Qu didn’t force him to eat, but snipped the steak into bits, placed it in a bowl, and set it within sight, just in case.

He might’ve decided to keep a cat, but he didn’t intend to fuss over it every second.

Apparently in a fine mood, he opened the piano lid and played today’s “Cat’s Song,” which he’d used on Class 18. No meowing—just piano, and quite lovely, making a perfect lullaby.

Catching Mr. Qu’s eye, Yan Jiyun yawned, full and sleepy.

Seeing him yawn, Mr. Qu too felt drowsy—a surprisingly gentle, composed man, giving a refined yawn.

It wasn’t even the end of second evening study hall, and he was already sleepy! He’d always thought yawns were contagious between people, but now a cat had made him yawn, too.

Qu mused, “Wuyun, give me a meow.”

The mood was so pleasantly peaceful that Yan yawned again.

Ever since coming to this instance, he’d been using his voice less and less, but now he’d learned how to leverage it for NPC trust.

Yawning, he managed a yowling: “Meow-awww~”

Mr. Qu’s fingers faltered, a rare mistake in his playing, but Yan wasn’t musically trained—he didn’t notice.

But the system notification that came next did snap him wide awake.

[Congratulations: You have completed the hidden quest “Calm Mr. Qu’s Fury.” Points reward will be issued at the end of the instance.]

Huh? He’d finished the task?

So what sort of character was Mr. Qu, in this instance?

He didn’t seem like a villain at all.

Unable to puzzle it out, and since he couldn’t leave, he might as well rest.

At least, he knew he wasn’t in any immediate danger.

The faint scent of sandalwood filled the room as Yan Jiyun drifted off, feeling impossibly sleepy.

Never before, in any instance, had he felt so tired after so little activity. What was up with that?

Before long, his mind stopped spinning and he slipped into deep sleep.

[“Want to Be Human” Livestream:]

“What’s up with the kitten? He just falls asleep listening to Qu’s piano? He’s always been alert up to now.”

“Did you guys notice? Qu burned incense before playing—the cat didn’t seem to notice. I remember cats can’t handle strong scents—they’ll sneeze a ton.”

“Maybe Qu’s fine, but the kitten just got sleepy after eating? Wait, he didn’t eat the food Qu gave him, but what his brother gave, right?”

“But that was still Qu’s steak. The twin just carried it in from outside—where else would it come from?”

“You’re forgetting—when Mr. Qu came in, his brother disappeared. What’s up with that? I’m so confused now.”

“I’ve watched this instance for ages, and never heard of Qu having a brother! Someone help—what’s going on? ‘Mermaid’ used to be a two-star difficulty, now it’s four—did something change?”

“While you’re discussing the plot, I just want to quietly watch the cat sleep. So cute!”

“Holy shit, the study door opened—it’s empty inside! Ahhh—I’m scared to death!”

As Yan Jiyun slept, he had no idea what was happening outside. He felt himself floating, as if rocked in a cradle. He’d never suffered from seasickness, and honestly, this felt so comfortable he could sleep for a dozen hours.

The school bell finally rang.

Players forced into evening study looked like fish dragged from the water—nearly breathless.

In less than half a day, more than a dozen players had already died.

Gu Wenzhu and Qiu Xi met up and hobbled out of the teaching building together.

Their bad-luck personas held true—one placed in a normal class, the other in a sports class. The former had to run 1,500 meters, the latter was randomly called to recite a text. Both had nearly failed, surviving their respective two-hour hell by a hair.

Many players didn’t make it through evening study, two hours of terror that nobody wanted to remember.

In a word: evening study was like being thrown solo into a meat-grinder instance. Problems unsolved in the morning became life-or-death challenges at night!

Gu nearly got buried by sports equipment; Qiu was nearly crushed under a pile of text.

Fresh out of classroom purgatory, their first thought was just: we survived.

Neither wanted to linger inside, nor return to the dorms—being indoors seemed an ill omen now.

They found a bench to rest, both thinking, “No idea which class Yan Jiyun got into.”

Qiu gestured: He’s probably fine. He’s stronger than me.

After seeing the points Yan earned from selling them information in earlier instances, both had a renewed respect for his abilities—he could glean more alone than they could together.

They didn’t feel like dead weight; as teammates, their skills were complementary.

Of course, the game loved splitting up teammates.

Every time they entered together, they’d be parted; by the time they reunited, a day or more would have passed. This time, half a day was fast.

Qiu: Did you notice anything unusual about this instance?

For their flunked tests, they were sentenced to two hours’ remedial. They didn’t know about Jiang Shiwen’s fall—it had happened over an hour before. The penalty: missing out on critical information.

Gu frowned: “The school feels off, somehow. Eerie.”

They’d barely spoken before being whisked away for evening study—no chance to share what they’d learned.

Qiu nodded: Feels weird here—but then, this school isn’t normal.

Gu, always affable and clever, excelled at drawing truths from others. He’d scrounged for all local rumors from the sports crowd while running.

He hadn’t found any teammates to share it with, though.

Gu: “I heard some things from classmates: the school doesn’t have a mermaid legend, but there is a lake—right next to the gym.”

Qiu: Anything special about the lake?

Gu: “Not sure, but there’s a statue in the center, and they say wishing there really works.”

Qiu was bewildered; his information was supernatural: I heard rumors about piano music at midnight in the music building.

Gu’s interest shifted: “So there’s more than one rumor?”

Qiu: You mean the lake has a rumor too?

Gu shook his head: “Not that I heard—just that if couples wish there, it always comes true; lots of teenagers go there to make vows.”

Qiu: If the lake is a rumor spot, then surely a couple should have had an incident.

After all, only couples went to wish in the lake.

Gu found that plausible: “We can dig up more about the lake. For now, let’s check out the piano rumors—and find Yan Jiyun if we can.”

He suspected the main quest was to get to the bottom of the school’s urban legends, and that they might be linked.

Qiu agreed.

After a break, they bought snacks at the campus store and headed for the music building.

Plenty of players had the same idea.

On the first night, the music building became the most popular spot on campus.

The higher up in difficulty, the less the system guided their quest progression.

Beginner instances gave clear direction; but in intermediate and above, the system provided fewer cues, leaving players to discover or trigger tasks for themselves. Smarter players found clues with ease, but sluggish ones missed out.

Gu and Qiu weren’t impulsive, but Gu was older and more methodical, while Qiu, under his mentorship, had tailored a training regime to boost his non-intellect skills.

Qiu once asked why Gu didn’t train Yan Jiyun too. Gu had just smiled—Yan was already too clever; he knew himself best.

They didn’t rush into the building, opting to watch how others moved in and out.

Large crowds mean similar strategies.

After a bit of small talk, they learned from other players that almost none who entered after nine p.m. had come back out.

Qiu gestured: Should we go in?

Gu: “Looks like the scene only activates after 9 p.m.—could be an escape room.”

Qiu: The piano classroom rumor sounds a lot like a ghost story.

Gu grew grave—none of them had encountered apparitions before: “Let’s take a look.”

They wanted to find Yan Jiyun, but everyone’s age had been adjusted, and they weren’t that familiar—finding him would take luck.

But with so many players following the “piano room rumor,” surely Yan was among them.

Seeing others enter, they followed.

As soon as they passed the threshold, a chill washed over them.

Other players shivered: “Is this a ghost instance? No one I asked today saw how Jiang Shiwen fell.”

Gu signaled Qiu to slow down. Who was Jiang Shiwen?

Had they missed something during detention?

Reaching the second floor, they heard a haunting piano.

At this hour, the sound was utterly chilling.

Everyone’s hair stood on end.

There really was piano music!

Both men wondered: could they find their teammate in this atmosphere?

All focused intently. The farther up they climbed, the nearer the melody seemed.

Then, a white shadow fluttered past their eyes!

A female player shrieked, “A g-ghost!”

Qiu instinctively edged closer to Gu—not just the girls saw it; both men did, too. The white figure had long hair and wore a flowing dress.

Qiu’s teeth chattered: Was it really a ghost story?

Gu tried to keep calm. “Or it could be a trick—someone setting up a track on the ceiling, pulling a mannequin along to scare us.”

Hearing Gu’s logic, others calmed a little—science trumped superstition.

One countered, “But this is a game, not real life.”

Gu asked, “Have you ever actually played a supernatural instance?”

Everyone shook their heads: “No.”

Gu: “Then the odds here are probably low.”

His words reassured them, but fear still pinned their feet.

Suddenly, someone added, “When I was waiting just now, I heard talk about a cat demon in the music building—people had scratches all over their faces. I saw it; blood everywhere. They hid in their rooms with the lights on for hours.”

Cat demon?

“Meow~”

At that moment, everyone—Gu, Qiu, and four others—froze at the sound of a cat’s meow.

Hair prickled, nerves stretched to breaking.

“What the hell kind of instance is this? Is it supernatural x cultivation?!”

“N-no way, maybe it’s just a stray.”

“But I saw the scratches—they’re real. Deep, bloody. Those three guys stumbled back to their rooms and locked themselves in for hours.”

Gu processed it all quickly: “What if the cat demon and Jiang Shiwen’s death are connected?”

This line of thought helped ease the group’s fear.

Qiu most admired Gu’s ability to stay cool and reach quick conclusions with scant clues.

“You might be right—maybe the cat demon scared Jiang Shiwen into falling to her death?”

“But if so, what’s the main quest?”

Gu said, “If the cat demon is here, maybe the clue to Jiang Shiwen’s death is too?”

After all, there was also the piano room rumor.

Were the two related?

They finally reached the second-floor hallway.

The drifting white shape was gone, and the music had ended—the building was quiet again.

As they pushed open the first classroom on the second floor, the cat’s cry echoed throughout the hall.

“Meow~”

Shit! Scared—the hell—out of me!