Cat 162: The Top Floor Again

Chapter 162: The Top Floor Again

[Be Human If You Can] Livestream Chat:

“What’s the level 5 streamer doing? Did he get caught that easily?”

“I stopped by his channel—the viewers all say he’s really smart, and the kitten adores him. I believe in the kitten, and in the streamer who loves him. No way things are that simple.”

“I get the feeling the kitten is about to clear the Childlike Innocence scenario.”

“Yan Weilan’s favorability is just shy of a hundred. I don’t think the kitten can beat the game before maxing it out. That’s based on multiple observations of how he plays these scenarios.”

“If that’s the case, I’d say every time the kitten maxes out an NPC’s rating, he triggers a new ending—hahahahaha!”

“With this scenario, there’s no need to wait for the end—he’s already unlocked a new main storyline. That new ending’s right around the corner, isn’t it?”

“Ha, I think the kitten subconsciously rejects the game’s planned plots and difficulty, so he rewrites the story and challenge every time.”

Though Yan Jiyun wanted to take down every NPC and rescue Qi Feng, he knew Qi Feng would never recklessly endanger himself for a quest.

He himself didn’t dare turn back into human form either—if he misread Qi Feng’s intentions, he’d only drag him down.

Yan Jiyun knew all about hiding spots in the office.

Luckily they’d picked a first-floor office. He could still use sound to find his bearings.

He just hadn’t guessed what Qi Feng was after—was he trying to draw out the real culprit?

The parents burst in, full of rage. Yan Jiyun worried that someone would hurt Qi Feng and gripped his tools, ready to toss them the moment anyone laid a hand on him—just a flash and they’d be blinded.

But just as they were about to close in on Qi Feng, Yan Weicheng—who had just been outside watching—suddenly appeared.

He wasn’t there to beg for his brother’s sake, but wore an air of triumph and satisfaction.

Just as Yan Jiyun had guessed, Yan Weicheng truly loathed his younger sibling.

If you didn’t know about Mr. Qu’s dissociative identity disorder, who would expect that the real manipulator of the Childlike Innocence scenario was Yan Weicheng?

Everything you know from real cases—identical twins or triplets, all those positive tales of telepathic bonds—the system set this up to mislead the players.

Yan Jiyun heard Yan Weicheng suddenly address the parents: “I’m Yan Weilan’s older brother. Please don’t blame my brother just because he made a mistake. He’s still young—he can change. Our parents and I will be sure to teach him well—he can even transfer to another school.”

What an impressive statement. At first it sounded reasonable—everyone assumed Yan Weilan had poisoned a classmate, so this felt like a brother bravely taking responsibility. But every word Yan Weicheng spoke pushed his brother deeper into the abyss.

His true aim was to force Yan Weilan to transfer?

Wherever he ended up, as long as he no longer competed with Yan Weicheng for status, that was enough. Maybe life after the transfer would only get worse.

Yan Jiyun didn’t yet know what kind of people the Yan parents were, but based on that “Nightmare” scenario, they were probably even worse.

Sadly, before Yan Weilan’s “darkening,” he never realized he could actually affect the world of this scenario on his own. After he turned, he finally had that power—but by then, he was the BOSS the players targeted, the one Yan Weicheng had to destroy.

If the players took down the BOSS, the whole scenario belonged to Yan Weicheng.

Yan Jiyun heard more footsteps: Yan Weiqing arrived, pulling Yan Weicheng’s arm. “Big brother, let’s go find Xiaolan. If Mom and Dad come, they’ll beat him.”

Yan Weicheng, watching everyone’s expressions, shook off Yan Weiqing’s hand once his goal was met. “If he’s done wrong, he should be punished; you can’t do as you please just because Mom and Dad dote on you.”

Yan Weiqing wavered, but spoke out, “I don’t believe Xiaolan could’ve done this. He won’t even go near a chicken.”

Yan Weicheng was careful not to appear too obvious in front of him, “I don’t think so either—but the teacher found evidence.”

Yan Weiqing pressed, “Brother, don’t you think someone might be framing him?”

A parent interrupted, “Child, your brother made a mistake—admitting it bravely, as you do, is praiseworthy!”

Yan Weicheng rode that wave of approval, expertly shaping public perception.

Yan Weiqing grew more anxious, wanting to pull his brother away, but Yan Weicheng was unmoved—this was his moment to shine, not to be missed.

Only by comparison with Yan Weilan could he prove his own worth; being overshadowed by his brother irked him deeply.

Interestingly, Yan Weicheng’s intervention “saved” Qi Feng in passing, sparing him an immediate beating by the parents.

Even so, some of the angriest parents pointed and cursed at Qi Feng’s face, a few taking swings, but Qi Feng slipped their reach: the rope on his hands and feet suddenly fell away.

He’d timed it perfectly and agilely vaulted through the window.

Before anyone else could react, he shot Yan Weicheng a look. “Yan Weicheng, why did you frame your brother? You’re the one who poisoned the food, not him.”

Yan Weicheng froze, body tense. “What are you talking about?”

Yan Jiyun was relieved he hadn’t rushed out to rescue Qi Feng—there was a reason for all this. Qi Feng had set up a trap. He’d already deduced that Yan Weicheng was the culprit. The answer was clear.

Qi Feng had planned this the moment he got the others into the painting. He leveraged his own arrest, the principal’s relationship with Shao Xin, and lured everyone into his snare.

The principal needed evidence to appease the parents; Shao Xin’s claim that Yan Weilan, Qi Feng, and Yan Jiyun bullied him provided a perfect excuse. If Yan Weilan couldn’t be found, all the rage would fall on Qi Feng as scapegoat.

With a scapegoat designated and all parties in place, of course the real poisoner would come to gloat—this would also “prove” Yan Weilan’s guilt. No one but his brothers better fit the culprit.

Qi Feng had no interest in arguing, “The one caught on the surveillance camera dosing the food wasn’t Yan Weilan—it was you in disguise. No one can tell you triplets apart; as long as you wear the same uniform and hairstyle, you fool everyone.”

Surveillance?

Yan Jiyun realized they had evidence. It wasn’t just the medicine found at Yan Weilan’s desk, they had the cameras too. If so, it was hopeless—until Qi Feng exposed the truth. The parents and principal were stunned. It explained everything, yet nothing!

The triplets as culprits? Were they being pranked?

[Be Human If You Can] Livestream Chat:

“No wonder he’s a level 5 streamer—a web of traps, predicting every NPC’s move, and nailing Yan Weicheng!”

“Yan Weicheng? How could it be him? What did he do?”

“You all didn’t see this coming? The kitten already figured it out—he even confirmed it with Yan Weilan while hiding in the painting. I think our level 5 streamer deduced the truth once he saw Yan Weicheng targeting Yan Weilan—otherwise how could he have set him up so quickly?”

“Honestly, the streamer’s skill is clear. The kitten also guessed the culprit, but the streamer won out by a whisker. It’s not that the kitten couldn’t have exposed Yan Weicheng—just later, that’s all.”

“I see no big difference between the two—one exposes Yan Weicheng directly, the other does it while running like mad. Both are smart, they just use different tools.”

“And you’ve missed the key point: Why does the kitten pick the streamer as his owner? Because they’re equally sharp!”

“But—the streamer still hasn’t realized the kitten can turn into a person, has he?”

The food poisoning truth was chaos once more. Some parents turned against the school leadership; some still blamed Yan Weilan; others accused all three brothers—triplets share a bond, how could they not conspire?

The situation shifted. The players had eased a bit of the crisis for Yan Weilan.

The principal simply couldn’t prove via surveillance which one had poisoned the food—they were triplets, utterly identical.

Sensing things going badly, Yan Weicheng pushed away his brother and ran.

He knew plenty of tricks. “Stop slandering us! One minute it’s me, then my brother—looks like the principal is just finding scapegoats. Even if you say there’s surveillance, who says it wasn’t faked by someone with face-swap tech to frame us all?”

Clever!

Whenever they needed Yan Weilan to take the blame, he was sacrificed for the greater good. When needed for family, he was the beloved brother. If only Yan Weicheng put this cunning to better use, he’d go far.

Qi Feng was done with his little surprise for Yan Weicheng. As he turned to leave, he saw Caramel standing below the window, gazing up at him.

Yan Jiyun had been about to lob a few smoke bombs at the parents—but seeing Qi Feng unharmed, he held back.

Those parents were just pawns in Qi Feng’s elaborate game.

Qi Feng greeted his surprise calmly. “Caramel, you’re not about to run off again, are you?”

Yan Jiyun: “…”

He wasn’t playing—he’d been diligently clearing tasks the whole time.

Qi Feng scooped Yan Jiyun up and raced toward the school’s pond, heading back to recover the others from the painting.

When they returned to the dark room, Yan Jiyun saw neither Yan Weilan nor Lan Mo—both the painting and the people were gone, just two sets of shoeprints by the window.

Qi Feng made his conclusion: “I bet the three of them left already.”

But only Yan Jiyun knew: only Lan Mo and Yan Weilan had left.

Lan Mo must have been unable to restrain Yan Weilan, or something forced them to go. There must have been a reason.

Suddenly, Qi Feng made a request. “Caramel, can you track Lan Mo’s scent? Let’s go find him.”

Nestled against his chest, Yan Jiyun played dumb. Since when could owners order their cats around like this?

He thought it over—Qi Feng wasn’t the sort to ask for favors; why was he suddenly trying to get him to find Lan Mo?

He’d just tricked Yan Weicheng, after all. He couldn’t answer hastily—if he did, he’d be proving he fully understood everything. Was Qi Feng testing him?

He’d never faced Qi Feng’s intelligence head-on before—but now realized Qi Feng’s smarts were subtle and unshowy. When you fell into one of his traps, you never saw it coming.

If he grew careless, sooner or later Qi Feng would realize he could turn human. By now, though, he was less bothered by that prospect. If they kept playing scenarios together, the truth would come out eventually.

One lie took a hundred more to patch over.

Qi Feng, seeing the cat unresponsive, said, “Alright, maybe you haven’t been around Lan Mo enough to recall his scent.”

Yan Jiyun’s only real time with Lan Mo had been in the Mingya High scenario—not exactly unfamiliar.

Judging the moment, when Qi Feng mentioned Lan Mo again, he gave a show of reaction.

Yan Jiyun’s large eyes fixed on Qi Feng: “Meow?”

Qi Feng explained, “Lan Mo—you know, the blue hair?” He mimed spiky hair.

Yan Jiyun leapt to the floor. He couldn’t pretend ignorance—after all, in Qi Feng’s eyes, he was the cleverest little cat. Now, feigning complete confusion would only look suspicious.

A moment ago he hadn’t heard Lan Mo, but now, on the third day of the scenario, it was time to speed things up.

He caught the faint sound of Lan Mo’s voice, distantly, from the school.

Not from ground level—likely up high.

Had he and Yan Weilan returned to the teaching building?

Qi Feng followed as Yan Jiyun darted off, worried they’d be seen, tapped his backpack, and said, “Caramel, come in—don’t let the others see you.”

Yan Jiyun led Qi Feng to the teaching building via the shrubbery, then ducked into his bag.

Now that Qi Feng had cleared his name and redirected attention onto Yan Weicheng, he was free to move about the campus.

Suddenly, the sky darkened again.

Yan Jiyun’s heart sank—something must have happened to Yan Weilan.

How did trouble always break out the second he left?

Qi Feng rushed to the building and saw the crowd below—the same parents. Pulling a cap from his bag, he tucked it low and slipped safely past.

Yan Jiyun needed somewhere to change back—plans had changed. He had to find Yan Weilan, who might be in danger.

He slipped quietly out of Qi Feng’s sight.

With the cat missing, Qi Feng had no idea where it had gone, so he plunged into the crowd and dashed upstairs.

Yan Jiyun waited for the footsteps to fade, then found a secluded corner to change back and ran into the building.

The closer he got, the louder Yan Weilan’s voice became, and the more tightly massed the black clouds overhead.

Rain began to fall.

If the incident was unfolding on the roof, it called to mind something: in the Mermaid scenario, Jiang Shiwen had been pushed off the roof by Cheng Su.

Both were worlds born of Mr. Qu’s fragmented psyche; patterns were bound to repeat.

If a rooftop push was fated, someone would fall.

Would it be Yan Weilan, Yan Weicheng, or Yan Weiqing?

Terrible.

Yan Jiyun hurried up the stairs, his short legs slowing him to a crawl, nearly frantic with frustration.

He charged straight to the roof. As he reached the entry, he saw Qi Feng’s back.

When he drew near, Qi Feng glanced back casually. “Here already?”

Yan Jiyun, matching his nonchalance, asked, “Aren’t you going up?”

Qi Feng stepped aside. “You take a look.”

Yan Jiyun stood beside him and took in the rooftop scene.

[Be Human If You Can] Livestream Chat:

“Ahhh, the kitten’s spotted something again!”

“What, what, what did the kitten find?”

“The original scenario’s core storyline—the meeting on the rooftop is Yan Weilan’s way of proving he didn’t poison anyone. In the original, he found out about Yan Weicheng’s scheming even later; this is probably the last clash between brothers.”

“I think this scenario’s fine—it’s all NPC vs NPC. Hardly any player-NPC fighting. So far, all the players are alive and well. ‘No One Survives’ seems a bit dramatic.”

“I think so too. No one’s died so far.”

“But if you haven’t seen it, you wouldn’t know—here’s a spoiler: Yan Weilan snaps on the roof. Yan Weicheng, immensely selfish, pushes Yan Weiqing off and blames Yan Weilan. By then, no one trusts Yan Weilan. Everyone takes Yan Weicheng at his word, and Yan Weilan doesn’t explain—he’s past shock and disappointment, he’s trembling with rage. Yan Weicheng’s like a madman, and Yan Weilan’s even more unhinged.”

“That sounds intense. I want to know how he loses it.”

“Killing spree, of course! Otherwise why ‘No One Survives’—he locks all the students in, and kills everyone!”

“But he’s just a kid—how does he do it? All the teachers and the troublemaking parents too?”

At that moment, Yan Jiyun saw the three brothers on the roof—Lan Mo, Gu Wenzhu, and Qiu Xi each blocking one.

Yan Weiqing knew the truth now; he wanted to confront his eldest brother, but Lan Mo held him back.

It was like a melodramatic series—children of eight or nine carrying primetime melodrama on their backs.

Yan Weiqing, ever blunt, burst out, “Why, big brother, why do this? What did our little brother ever do to you?”

Yan Weicheng, mask dropped, stopped hiding.

He snarled, “Brother, brother, brother—it’s always about the little brother. When have you ever cared about your eldest brother?”

Yan Weiqing: “But haven’t you always taken care of him? What’s wrong with me looking out for him?”

Yan Weicheng: “We were born the same day! Why should I have to give in to him just because I’m a few hours older?”

Yan Jiyun wondered: did Yan Weicheng hate his brother because he’d been mistreated by their parents? Did Mr. Qu, too, suffer such a childhood—a real brother or sister who had maligned him?

All signs pointed to a miserable grade school era for Mr. Qu.

Yan Weiqing saw more clearly than his brother. “He’s always given in to you. You love drumsticks—he’d say he didn’t like them, save them for you. He’s weaker than us, born later, always envied us running and jumping while he’s stuck at home. You called him girly for learning embroidery like Mom and he never got mad at you. Big brother, where has he fallen short?”

If Yan Weicheng could be swayed by reason, he wouldn’t be framing Yan Weilan today.

He replied, “That’s just on the surface! At home he’s always badmouthing us to Mom and Dad—why else would they punish us and not him every time?”

At last Yan Weilan spoke up. “Big brother, I’ve never said a bad thing about you or our brother to Mom and Dad. But you’ve always resented me. I thought it was my imagination. Last year—you poisoned that rabbit, didn’t you? Wasn’t that an experiment to see if you could do the same to classmates and frame me?”

He nailed it. Yan Weicheng’s face turned from green to white. He admitted, “Exactly. There shouldn’t have been another you in this family. You should have died at birth. Without you, all the attention would’ve been on me.”

Yan Weiqing was stunned. “You actually wished your little brother dead?”

Yan Weicheng: “Not just him—both of you.”

As he spoke, Yan Weicheng edged toward the rooftop railing.

Yan Weiqing’s eyes grew red with fury. “Big brother, how could you!”

Yan Weilan, wiping away tears, looked at Yan Weicheng. “I never thought you were a bad brother—I always thought you cared for us. I always wanted to be like you. Back in kindergarten, the teacher said we should have good role models. You were mine.”

Yan Weiqing added, “Yes. Just last term, in his Chinese essay, our little brother wrote about how you were his role model. You knew that.”

But Yan Weicheng only glared. “So what? I just hate you—both of you! Now that everyone knows the truth, I’ll make sure you live with guilt forever!”

Some wicked soul had left a wooden three-step stool by the railing.

Yan Weicheng darted for the steps, almost accomplishing his plan!

Gu Wenzhu was closest, but with his bad leg, he couldn’t make it in time. Yan Jiyun and Qi Feng, who’d stood at the door, lunged together for the steps.

Both targeted Yan Weicheng’s ankles in the same instant.

Yan Jiyun even shot him a cool line: “Not so fast, pipsqueak—let’s see you jump now.”

Yan Weicheng’s perfect plan: ruined…