Cat 100: The Mastermind

Chapter 100: The Mastermind

The room was dimly lit, with a pane of glass separating them from the patients. Only when Yan Jiyun stepped forward did he get a clear view.

It was a shocking sight: nearly two hundred patients lying together in one space. Confronted with the reality of those who could do this, he felt a mix of pity and anger.

Still, Yan Jiyun refused to let emotion cloud his thinking. He pressed on, moving toward the source of the sounds he’d heard. He quickly identified their location: if he went through the glass door to the tightly closed door beyond, he’d likely find the answer—the control room, perhaps.

The black panther wanted to crash through the glass, but Yan Jiyun stopped him. Who could say how strong the glass really was? If it broke, they’d be the ones hurt.

The glass door was locked, and Yan Jiyun’s universal key was out of charges.

Rummaging through his gear, Yan Jiyun produced a gun. He fired at the lock. With a bang, it flicked open.

His caretaker had taught him to handle firearms after all. Why not buy one? Expensive on points, yes, but invaluable at crucial moments.

In addition to drawing his gun, Yan Jiyun donned his bulletproof vest and helmet, reminding his large companions to keep sharp.

He prepared to dash for the next door. Yet, in that instant, he caught sight of a black box fixed to each hospital bed, their digital displays flashing down in red.

【15:00】

He glanced at one—a set of numbers ticked down.

【14:59】

A second later…

【14:58】

It was a countdown, time steadily draining away.

A nasty twist to the final task—someone had rigged timed explosives on the beds!

Yan Jiyun was no bomb expert—how was an ordinary player supposed to deal with this?

If only he’d known his caretaker would drag him through dungeon instances one day, he’d have spent the past year poring over chemistry and demolition manuals!

But after a look at the bomb displays, they all showed the same time. Considering the zoo’s heavy protection systems, these must be centrally controlled—as long as he found the source, he could probably shut them all off.

In short, he had to locate the person at the heart of it all—the source of the detonators, the true culprit.

The panther sniffed at one of the bombs, but Yan Jiyun stopped him. “Hey, I know this was your old line of work, but don’t touch—right now we need to find the guy with the remote.”

“We’re running out of time—fifteen minutes. No—fourteen.”

Yan Jiyun raced to the closed door, fired at its lock. It didn’t budge. He fired again—finally, it burst open. Uncomplicated and direct!

[“Want to Be Human”] Livestream:

“Why did Little Cat suddenly go full action hero? This isn’t like him—where did this rough style come from?”

“I know, right? All his teammates in previous runs were brainy types. He had a gun before, but never touched it.”

“What’s strange about it? Plenty of players have guilds now. Maybe he joined one during downtime—they’d give him tips for future instances. If he gets stronger, he can clear more rooms, and I get to watch more of his runs. Win-win! You don’t know the joy of raising a good Cat!”

The lock broken, Yan Jiyun didn’t rush in. The panther pried the door open with a swipe, revealing a new world behind it.

Before them stretched rows of surveillance monitors, each corresponding to a section of the zoo, displaying every animal’s location and status in real time.

It was a far more sinister setup than Dr. Zhou’s lab—in this room, every corner of the zoo fell under the watcher’s gaze.

Scanning the feeds, Yan Jiyun even saw the B2 and B3 levels.

Whoever was behind this, he knew everything.

Every abnormal animal, every thieving employee, every secret meeting—nothing escaped him.

But the mastermind wasn’t present in this bank of monitors.

Ear cocked, Yan Jiyun listened. Not upstairs and not below—in this room there was still enough space to hide a person. The culprit wasn’t twenty meters away, just off to the left.

Yan Jiyun turned in a slow circle. There had to be a hidden door to his left.

The panther still stuck close. Suddenly, he shoved the room’s only chair toward Yan Jiyun. At once, Yan understood.

He lifted the chair and hurled it at the wall where he’d heard the sound.

It was a good, heavy ergonomic chair—hefted with strength, it smashed into the wall, leaving a deep dent and tearing flakes of paint away to expose the raw wood beneath.

Without hesitation, Yan Jiyun swung the chair again and again.

Three hits and a huge gap gaped open in the wall, easily wide enough for a person to pass.

He squeezed through, the panther at his heels, then the others followed.

There was no time to worry if the rest would keep up—the clock was ticking, and he had to catch the villain and get the remote.

The space within was vast and empty—nobody there, only a spiral staircase winding up to the second and third floors.

The sound he’d heard earlier was clearly someone ascending; it was an atrium—he could see right up to the ceiling beams.

What else was left to do? Pursue! Until the bastard had nowhere left to hide.

He’d been running nonstop for two days—what was a little while longer? He was in a race against time now.

“Soy Sauce, let’s go!”

“Bet I can catch him!”

“Do you know who he is?”

“Meeowrr~”

Yan Jiyun: ???

Was that the panther’s answer? Well, it sounded just like him—all cats, in the end.

It wasn’t the commanding roar he expected from a panther.

Who would have guessed such a fierce animal would have a call so similar to his own?

“Looks like you knew all along,” he said, climbing the stairs. “Nice to know we sound equally cool!”

Yan Jiyun hated being called “cute”—the panther’s physique and matching voice were his favorites. If not for their slight differences, he’d claim brotherhood with the beast.

He was the big brother; the panther, his little bro.

The panther, caught up in the chase, uttered no further sounds—embarrassed, perhaps, by the contrast between his call and the tough image he liked to project.

Kaiser was next up, the lion’s roar echoing through the huge space.

“ROARR!”

Yan Jiyun: “Show-off, Kaiser. That’s not playing fair.”

For once, Xixi, usually silent, jumped in. “Competing is bad—meowrr~ roarrr~ arf~”

Yan Jiyun instantly heard four types of animal calls: “Xixi, your mimicry is unrivaled—you’re taking away everyone else’s lines!”

Xixi replied, “It’s my talent.”

Kaiser roared again.

The panther fell silent, having been caught off guard.

Yan Jiyun’s attempts to relax the mood worked—their little team actually clicked.

They gave chase, hot on the trail. The building’s second floor was different—fewer rooms, more open, much darker.

But that didn’t slow them.

If the quarry was human, he’d move cautiously in the dark. Not them.

Yan Jiyun tracked the fugitive into an empty hall, now less than ten meters ahead.

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, and the lights snapped on.

Yan Jiyun raised a hand to shield his eyes.

A man stood before him, masked in black, who turned and rasped, “Come no closer, or I’ll kill him.”

Following the direction of the remote control in the man’s hand, Yan Jiyun saw someone on the floor, mouth taped shut, able only to grunt.

His eyes narrowed on the masked man. “Uncle Man—or should I say, Director.”

Uncle Man angrily ripped off the mask. “How did you know I was the director?”

Yan Jiyun had pieced that together through deduction.

At first, Uncle Man had seemed unimportant—he was the first NPC eliminated, the first foe assigned.

But in hindsight, that was odd. Why should Uncle Man harbor such resentment for him?

Looking back, no matter how players handled that quest, Uncle Man always ended up knocked out and carted away by ambulance.

By comparison, another keeper who’d chased him had fallen off Stone Mountain without the arrival of any ambulance—the system simply recovered the NPC.

Two keepers, yet two endings: one phased out, one not. That made no sense. The only plausible answer: Uncle Man had a second identity, and could not die.

His suspicions deepened as the story progressed; he never believed the director had suffered a stroke.

When he encountered Uncle Man a second time, it only confirmed his theory.

[“Want to Be Human”] Livestream:

“WTF, how did Little Cat figure that out? I don’t get it—didn’t Uncle Man get knocked out at the very start? He was the director all along?”

“I always thought the director was a lurking presence, never expected Uncle Man. He never returned in previous runs.”

“Help, my brain is melting—the biggest villain is Uncle Man! Did anyone guess?”

“First time seeing the full plotline. Never thought the director was Uncle Man! No wonder there have been explosive endings in past runs—it wasn’t just crazy player gear, it was the bombs in this building, right? Did they blow up Uncle Man with the building?”

“Ahhh, he’s got Dr. Zhou! Can Little Cat grab the remote before the bombs go off?”

Yan Jiyun wondered if he could seize the remote, but first he had to save Dr. Zhou.

Behind him, the panther and Kaiser braced, ready to pounce on Uncle Man at any moment.

But with the remote in Uncle Man’s hand, Yan didn’t dare risk an attack.

Dr. Zhou was conscious, a bomb tied to his chest. The display matched the ones on the beds below.

Time left: 13:09.

Uncle Man threatened, “Take one more step, and the bomb on Zhou Yiqun goes off.”

Yan Jiyun had no choice but to hold back. “Alright, we won’t come closer. But why are you doing this?”

Uncle Man shot a jealous look at the panther and the others. “Jiang You, I envy you. They listen to you. I have to use special drugs to keep them under control.”

Yan kept his voice steady. “I figured it out—all the tranquilizer mists in the woods were your doing.”

Uncle Man laughed. “So what? You figured it out, then what? They were all volunteers.”

Yan shook his head. “No, they weren’t. Some had no choice but to go to Dr. Zhou’s lab, but most of the patients you trafficked in yourself.”

He had chosen the word “trafficked” on purpose, watching Uncle Man’s expression.

His face darkened. “Impressive—you figured out that much.”

Yan went on, “Dr. Qiao’s son could have woken up, but you brought him here. That was you, wasn’t it?”

On the floor, Dr. Zhou’s eyes were wide with disbelief.

Uncle Man obligingly ripped the tape from his mouth. “Yiqun, don’t look at me like that. I had no choice. The animal stock in the zoo was getting worse, visitor numbers fell. Your experiments were the answer—I just did what I had to. You needed test subjects, I needed animals to attract tourists. And honestly, most of them would never have woken up—their bodies were as good as useless. What’s the harm in giving them new life?”

Dr. Zhou shouted furiously, “I told you from the very start that families had to consent. How could you bring in innocent people like this? It’s monstrous!”

Uncle Man smiled coldly. “You’re missing the point. I’m giving them a second chance. Aren’t today’s youth always saying they want to be pets, live simple lives eating and sleeping all day? No need to wait for the next life—they get their wish right now. No more long commutes, no more nine-to-nine—just eat, drink, and relax in the zoo. Isn’t it happy, isn’t it wonderful?”

Dr. Zhou: “But Director, you’re using people who could have gone back to normal life for experiments!”

Solemn, Uncle Man replied, “Yiqun, you needed patients. Would you have cared if I brought you healthy volunteers? Where was I supposed to find all those people certified to never wake up? I found them for you—now your data is richer than ever.”

Dr. Zhou’s face was all but hopeless. “Out of all these people, how many really could have woken up?”

Uncle Man shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You’re all dead anyway. Besides the handful of wealthy volunteers, none of the others were vegetative.”

Yan Jiyun: …

So, early on Uncle Man had planned his scheme for the zoo. He saw Dr. Zhou’s experiment, realized the business opportunity, and knew Dr. Zhou would keep it all a secret—a perfect arrangement.

No wonder there were only eight special animals; those were the true consenting cases. As for the “failures,” they weren’t failed at all—Uncle Man had hidden them here to keep Dr. Zhou in the dark.

Because Deputy Director He was eager for promotion and nosed around Dr. Zhou’s lab, zoo secrets slowly leaked; Dr. Peng got involved, then factional wars erupted, exposing the experiments.

That was the full truth of the zoo crisis.

If things went on, the zoo’s animals would all fall into his clutches, and the exploitation would go on and on. The ultimate threat was Uncle Man. At first, he selected only the comatose or dying. But desire always grows—how long before he started kidnapping victims from the street? The mire would only get deeper, consuming everyone involved.

Man’s destruction always stems from himself.

Yan Jiyun watched the timer on the bomb tick down. Twelve minutes left.

Uncle Man saw what Yan was planning and slowly retreated until his back touched a wall.

“Don’t come any closer, or I’ll press the button!”

Hand behind his back, he suddenly turned and vanished through a secret panel in the wall.

Yan rushed forward to untie Dr. Zhou.

The panther pawed at Dr. Zhou’s head. With trembling hands, Dr. Zhou squeezed his brother’s paw, gasping, “Bro, thank god you’re okay!”

Yan Jiyun wasted no time on their reunion. He shoved at the secret door—it didn’t budge.

Locked from the inside. Now what?

Eleven minutes left—nowhere near enough time.

He turned to Dr. Zhou. “Are there any other exits?”

Dr. Zhou shook his head. “Not that I know of. I’ve hardly set foot in this building—they must have remodeled it.”

The vast space had nothing that could be used to smash a way through; the gun was useless with no lock in sight. Only three bullets left anyway.

Yan’s only regret: he hadn’t taken the shot before. But he was no marksman; he couldn’t guarantee he’d hit Uncle Man’s hand. So he’d had to let the enemy go.

No one could have guessed he had such rational reflexes—or that he’d flee so fast.

It seemed that everything was unfolding just as Uncle Man had planned.

Yan looked at the bomb on Dr. Zhou. Better not to touch it—he was no expert.

“Just wait here, Dr. Zhou. I’m going to catch him.”

Dr. Zhou nodded.

Yan dashed off, the panther right behind—out the still-open door.

“Be careful, Bro!” Dr. Zhou called after them, voice thick with tears as the rest of the big animals thundered past to support Yan’s pursuit.

The wolf king and queen stayed behind to keep watch—if they all left, Uncle Man could double back down the stairs.

Yan knew the man’s position; he was closing in.

Time was running out. The bombs were enough to level the entire block. Unless Uncle Man was ready for mutual destruction, he’d have to come back out.

But which door? Were there more passages, more hidden doors?

Yan heard every sound in the halls. It wouldn’t do to rush; better to let the enemy get nervous and slip up first.

Suddenly, Uncle Man’s footsteps stopped.

Yan was separated from him by only a wall. He didn’t bang on the door or shout. The nervous one here would be Uncle Man.

Of course, if he could pause the bomb timer, he’d just stall as long as he pleased. But if he couldn’t leave, and didn’t want to die, sooner or later he’d have to make a move.

Now, it was a silent contest of wills.

The panther nudged Yan, puzzled.

He whispered, “Just wait. We’ll catch him soon.”

Then, giving instructions: “There are doors all along this corridor. Each of you guard one. Pick whichever.”

Xixi couldn’t act alone, but the other big beasts positioned themselves, each staking out a potential escape.

All the doors were close; anything Yan needed to say, everyone would hear.

Time ticked by.

Yan glanced at the system timer in his field of vision, and at the bomb.

【6:20】

No big movements inside. Uncle Man was isolated, unable to hear them outside.

Up close to one door, Yan heard his breathing get heavier, anxiety mounting.

Suddenly, Uncle Man made a break—he cracked a door and crept toward Yan’s position, afraid to return to the last hiding place, knowing someone would be waiting.

For all their human awareness, the conscious animals were battle-hardened; one ordinary human had no hope of slipping past. It was Uncle Man who was scared.

Still, Yan had to stay vigilant—he hadn’t forgotten the villain’s trick with the white powder, capable of subduing even Orange and the others.

Finally, there he was—

【3:20】

Yan and the panther slipped alongside the door, tracking the approach.

The panther waited for Yan’s signal; the whole game long, Yan had commanded the action.

Gun drawn, Yan tensed, waiting for that head to appear.

Uncle Man was careful—just opening the door a crack, peeking out.

Yan pressed himself to the wall, careful to keep out of Uncle Man’s sightlines.

Thank goodness for the darkened corridor—it hampered the enemy’s view, rendering Yan and the panther almost invisible.

With a quick gesture—a lowering sign, the panther flattened—military signals, just like his caretaker’s training.

The panther understood perfectly.

Hearing nothing, Uncle Man decided they must have left.

After a quick check, he ventured out.

The moment he stepped fully into the corridor, Yan signaled “Go!”

He barely had time for shock before the panther crashed into him. Yan followed: the panther pinned the director, Yan lunged for the remote.

Uncle Man went down, Yan’s knee pinning his arm, wrenching the device free.

“Ha!” Uncle Man stuttered, momentarily too stunned to react.

He tried to thrash free, but as Orange rushed over—bulk even greater than the panther’s—a single paw pinned him at the throat!

Now both panther and tiger pinned him. Uncle Man was about to pass out.

If he’d known his experiments would come back to crush him, he’d have killed them all first.

【2:20】

With the animals restraining him, Yan snatched the remote. He didn’t press the green “pause” button right away, instead lifting the device for the panther.

“Soy Sauce, which button?”

The panther hesitated, not expecting to be asked. He reached a paw, then drew back.

He realized he was colorblind.

Uncle Man, beneath several hundred pounds of tiger and panther, managed to croak, “Don’t—don’t press it!”

Two minutes left.

Yan Jiyun didn’t believe him, but still hesitated.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The timer ticked down relentlessly.

Defusing bombs wasn’t his profession—what now?