Cat 137: Who Is Caramel?

Chapter 137: Who Is Caramel?

Yan Jiyun tried clawing at the door of the music building, but it was firmly shut. No matter how hard he scratched or tried to squeeze through cracks, he couldn’t get in.

Now he finally understood why Professor Qu’s double had warned him not to run off—there had been a deeper meaning after all. He could only blame himself for not listening!

Professor Qu, I’m sorry. From now on, I’ll definitely do as you and your double say.

By now it was clear: Professor Qu was just Professor Qu; there was no twin brother.

There were simply two different instances, sharing the same background and NPCs, but with different main stories, and the NPCs playing different roles in each.

In instance B, the players’ ages had also been adjusted.

Now, the key question was: How had he gone from the “Mermaid” instance to this one?

What exactly was the main quest in this new instance?

Since both main quests appeared in his system, that meant he’d have to complete both.

He’d entered via the music building—maybe that was the passage to travel between instances too?

Yan Jiyun circled the music building again, but found no opening to squeeze through; even the windows were sealed tightly, not a gap big enough to wriggle in.

Was he stuck here?

His panic gradually subsided into calm.

Professor Qu undoubtedly belonged to the “Mermaid” instance.

But why had Qu’s double appeared in the “Mermaid” instance as well? Their personalities were distinctly different.

If Professor Qu’s home instance was A, and this double was part of instance B, did it mean that to get back to A, he had to find Qu’s double from B?

Could it be that an update to the game system now required them to clear an extra instance?

This wasn’t an instance merger, but an instance switch.

He hadn’t built up much experience with instances yet, and was already facing this mess; he’d have to explore further.

Let’s review:

Instance A:

“Mermaid.” The main quest: find the ‘good voice,’ protect them from being killed, and help them debut successfully.

Instance B:

Name unknown, main quest unclear. The only clue is Mirror Lake and several NPCs.

NPCs appearing in both so far: Professor Qu, Han Ruibai, and Cheng Su.

Other undiscovered NPCs can’t be ruled out.

Two Professor Qus—the one from instance B can enter instance A, but whether A’s can switch is unknown.

Conclusion: Professor Qu from instance B was crucial—perhaps a bug that connected both instances?

In any case, his first priority was to find Professor Qu from instance B.

The passage between the music buildings of A and B opened at certain times.

Who knew whether there were other entry points.

If Gu Wenzhu and Qiu Xi never reached this side, it meant they’d just play their one instance while he had to play two.

Did every player have to complete both main quests, or was it only those who accidentally ended up in B that were affected? That answer would have to wait.

He only wished he could go back an hour and glue himself to the classroom floor on the second floor—no one could pull him loose.

Taking another look at the abandoned music building, Yan Jiyun melted into the night.

He had to find Professor Qu from instance B and ask him to help him leave.

He still had no idea what the current situation was here, what role Qu played, or what kind of person he was—but at least he knew Qu’s double meant him no harm. Find him first, deal with the rest later.

He ran to the teachers’ dormitory; here, too, the building was rather run-down.

He took the elevator up as skillfully as ever, went to room 505, and knocked with his paw—once, twice, thrice.

No answer?

He knocked again. Maybe Qu was asleep and couldn’t hear?

He persisted for five minutes before finally hearing the slow, dragging sound of slippers—heavier than Qu’s own footsteps.

Yan Jiyun quickly ducked into a corner of the hallway to observe.

Impatience led to mistakes—he’d forgotten this was a different instance. In instance A, Qu’s double was good at sneaking around; here, his role might not even be that of a teacher living in the dorm.

The door to 505 swung open. Its owner poked his head out—a chubby young man, grumbling, “Who the hell’s knocking in the middle of the night? Are you crazy?”

Yan Jiyun confirmed that the characters were totally different here; even the way spaces were distributed differed.

So what was Qu’s double’s role in this world?

He remembered Qu’s double had a hint of mint about him—where did that scent come from now?

Standing beneath the staff dormitory, he didn’t know which way to go.

Should he try Han Ruibai instead?

No—the role of Han Ruibai here was still unknown; approaching him rashly could be trouble.

At least he now knew what task Main Quest 1 in B involved.

What wish did those five make, anyway?

He remembered that among those seven at Mirror Lake, two were players. Where had they gone?

If instance A had fifty players, B should too.

With instances crossed, perhaps some players meant for A wound up in B, and vice versa?

Since he’d landed right where he belonged, he hadn’t noticed any crossover at first.

But knowing now didn’t help—maybe ignorance would have been bliss.

Leaving the teacher’s dorm, Yan Jiyun decided to first find a tree to perch in.

A new main quest, but the same setting.

The campus was utterly quiet; if all players were students, the game probably forced them to rest at night.

His transfer from A to B hadn’t triggered a forced-rest message, suggesting the system didn’t restrict him at night.

Maybe only those who crossed between A and B got that “privilege.”

Privileged wasn’t what he felt; trying to clear two instances in seven days was deadly, with no time to rest.

Finding a tree near the crossroads, Yan Jiyun prepared to climb and rest for the night—it’d be best to be well-rested before trying to tackle both instances at once.

The campus was so still—were the players all asleep, not out doing quests?

If he’d gone to the student dorms, he might have seen that, in fact, players were busy.

For example, Lan Mo, living in room 406 in Boys’ Dorm 4, was curled up at the foot of his bed, clutching his blanket. A long-haired head was slowly drifting toward him, breath chilly and earthy against his face.

Lan Mo drove a knife, hidden beneath his blanket, straight through the center of the head!

But it didn’t end there—a withered, black-green hand clawed at his abdomen from behind. Lan Mo swung the blade, hacking it off.

Tossing his blanket back, he trapped a wriggling thing beneath it, jammed his knife through, and with a hiss, whatever was under there vanished, the blanket instantly flattening as if all the air had been let out.

“What the hell!” He looked at the dark liquid oozing on the bed, then called to his roommate, “Shi Yan, you okay?”

Four to a room—one was Lan Mo’s teammate, while the other two were NPCs, both deep asleep, completely oblivious to the horror around them.

Shi Yan’s hair was short in front, tied in a stubby ponytail at the back. “Disgusting. Why won’t these withered hands die no matter how many times you chop them off?”

Lan Mo flicked something foul from his knife, cursing, “I just punctured a head—damn, that’s gross!”

Shi Yan jumped down, standing back-to-back with Lan Mo. Their two NPC roommates slept on, unaware.

Shi Yan flicked his wrist, “Should we just leave? Been fighting these things for half an hour now—it never ends.”

Lan Mo: “You think there aren’t more outside?”

Shi Yan: “We’ll never know if we don’t try. If Brother Feng were here, he’d never just stay cooped up in the dorm.”

Lan Mo: “But the dorm supervisor just told us not to leave after lights out.”

Shi Yan: “You know why Brother Feng never lets you into instances alone?”

Lan Mo: “Why? Isn’t it because he needs me?”

Shi Yan: “Because you’re not always the sharpest tool. Come on—when have we ever listened to an NPC? Their advice is always the opposite of what we should do.”

Lan Mo: “Fair enough. But it’s weird, we left so much info, yet Brother Feng hasn’t linked up with us yet—and the instance is so small.”

Shi Yan shook his head: “Maybe he’s been held up or doesn’t want to risk exposing his info to other players.”

Lan Mo nodded: “Makes sense. Brother Feng’s always the cautious one.” He wiped his blade. “Let’s go—let’s break out.”

Back-to-back, the two inched their way out, keeping their guard up.

Opening the door, they found players from the same floor—everyone figured the same thing, not wanting to die staying put.

This instance had fifty players in total, more men than women. Their building alone housed about a dozen, and likely more elsewhere.

A player from the same floor asked them to team up against these mutated abominations.

They agreed—three would fare better than two.

From the fourth floor, they hacked their way down to the third, meeting a small player hollering with a baseball bat, blindly swinging at anything.

“Ahhhh, help! Someone, help me!”

“Hey, can I join you guys?”

Lan Mo, Shi Yan, and their new friend sized him up, agreeing he looked like a skilled player—after all, this was a Level 4 hard mode.

Their duo became a trio, then quickly a quartet.

On they ran for the second floor, with monsters in pursuit; sometimes, a rotted hand burst from the ground, clutching at their ankles—they only reached the first floor half exhausted from hacking.

At the first floor, they had to be careful not to rouse the dorm supervisor.

The supervisor was dozing.

The Crybaby Player hiccupped with fright, nearly waking him, but luckily they hid fast enough—Lan Mo muffling his mouth—so they slipped by undetected.

Crouched low, the four snuck out and sprinted toward the teaching block, feeling lucky to escape.

But empty spaces weren’t necessarily safe. Ahead, under a wutong tree, came the rustling of something alive.

Lan Mo caught Shi Yan’s arm. “Wait, I don’t think it’s safe up there.”

The Crybaby Player cowered behind Lan Mo, trembling. “W-why not?” He was so scared, his voice shook.

Shi Yan was cool, “There could be a player up in that tree.”

Lan Mo agreed: “Maybe more than one. Those monsters are everywhere—let’s get out of here.”

Another player said, “Should we check the playground? Feels like there’ll be fewer monsters somewhere more open.”

They couldn’t help whoever was in the tree; so many monsters could drain anyone dry.

Lan Mo heard a cat’s meow.

“Meow~”

He took two more steps forward—again, a meow.

“Meow~”

He stopped. “Shi Yan, did you hear that?”

Shi Yan: “Yeah.”

Lan Mo suddenly remembered Brother Feng mentioning his cat—supposedly the cat also entered the game as a player. Was this meow from Brother Feng’s cat?

Of course, it might also be an NPC.

He glanced at the wutong tree. “You think it’s coming from up there?”

Before Shi Yan could reply, the Crybaby Player answered instead, “Yeah, it’s from up there. The cat just jumped down!”

“Whoa, I’m outta here!” The other player spun and fled, not caring about his team.

A pile of disgusting things—those ghost hands—came chasing the cat.

“Meow!”

Running toward them was exactly what Lan Mo guessed: a black cat. Whether it was Qi Feng’s or not, he couldn’t say.

A black blur darted past his feet, disappearing toward the cafeteria. Knowing Brother Feng was searching for his cat, Lan Mo dashed after it without hesitation.

“Shi Yan, after that cat!”

The Crybaby Player, seeing Lan Mo run, chased after too. “Wait for me, guys!”

Shi Yan yelled while running, “Why are we chasing a cat? It’s so black, we’ll never spot it!”

There were outsiders present, and Brother Feng’s personal business wasn’t Shi Yan’s to explain. He just said, “We have to find it—it could be a valuable NPC!”

Shi Yan didn’t argue further. “Where’d it go?”

Lan Mo stared into the empty road ahead. “Is it…gone already?”

No wonder—it was a black cat, after all.

The “ghost hands” were, of course, pursuing Yan Jiyun.

He’d thought perching in the wutong tree would let him spend the night in peace, but he hadn’t counted on these bizarre things showing up—he was nearly scared out of his wits.

The items he bought were useless, and to escape the things, he had to climb higher and higher.

Luckily, he was small and agile. Those things could crawl, not jump; dodging around, he managed to avoid many.

But as more and more hands appeared, the tree branches became a tiring battleground—if he kept at it, he’d die of exhaustion before being caught. He had to run before there were even more monsters!

This was the weirdest instance he’d ever encountered; he had no clue what its nature was.

It was just terrifying.

As he was about to give up, a group from the dorms burst out. Hearing their conversation, he recognized them as players. Seizing the chance to spread the danger, he leapt from the tree—one target was better shared among many.

As he ran, he overheard one say they were after him too.

Was there something special about him to warrant chasing at a time like this?

Dashing into the bushes, Yan Jiyun glanced at the lead runner—he seemed familiar!

As the player drew nearer, Yan Jiyun realized he resembled Qi Feng’s friend, the one called Lan Mo. He’d seen his face while hiding in Qi Feng’s bag. Even with the age reduction, his blue hair stood out.

It really was Lan Mo.

Qi Feng usually entered instances with Lan Mo—if Lan Mo was in this Level 4 hard mode, was Qi Feng here as well?

Wait, earlier that night, while hiding in the wutong tree, one of Xue Ping’s basketball friends bore a striking resemblance to Qi Feng—could it have really been him?

How could I be so slow—I didn’t recognize Qi Feng.

But it didn’t matter; who would have expected the system update to fuse Level 2 and Level 4 hard modes? No wonder a veteran would end up in a Level 2 instance. The system was always up to mischief.

No time to dwell—how to avoid these monsters was more urgent.

He hadn’t switched back to human form, and now that Lan Mo had seen him, he couldn’t risk it.

Still, Lan Mo had probably never seen him before and didn’t know if he was Qi Feng’s cat. But chasing him despite those monsters meant Qi Feng must have mentioned him; otherwise, why bother amid such chaos?

Only a top player would make that connection.

It worked in his favor: an ally was always better—more hands, less risk. Get rid of the ghost hands, quick!

The ghost hands weren’t as fast as Yan Jiyun, but there were so many they could still catch up to Lan Mo’s group.

While the monsters chased their new targets, Yan Jiyun caught his breath and studied the three following him.

One had a ponytail—Shi Yan, surely. The other—wait, wasn’t that He Yuanle?

He could never forget that face.

He Yuanle had shrunk even more than Yan Jiyun—while his own age had dropped a few years, He Yuanle seemed to have regressed from adult to middle schooler.

Schadenfreude, for once—someone else was worse off!

He hadn’t expected He Yuanle to be a high-level player too—did he conquer instances by crying?

“Ahhh! Help! Bro! A ghost hand got my clothes!”

Lan Mo and Shi Yan turned to hack the ghost hand away from He Yuanle.

“Bro, my back’s freezing!”

Yan Jiyun: …He Yuanle certainly brought energy to any setting.

Since Lan Mo had chased him—distracting the monsters—Yan Jiyun cheerfully returned the favor, shaking a small branch for noise.

Lan Mo and the others got the hint and headed over.

Shi Yan, with sharp eyes, called, “The cat’s over there. After it!”

He Yuanle, though weepy, didn’t question Lan Mo about the pursuit. He obediently followed his teammates, not causing trouble.

With his short legs, he couldn’t keep pace—between the two tall men, they practically carried him as they ran.

Yan Jiyun looked back to see He Yuanle struggling to keep up on tiptoes—if he hadn’t been in cat form, he’d have laughed out loud!

How comical He Yuanle looked—how could anyone flee for their life and still keep a straight face?

Ahead, there was a stand-alone two-and-a-half-story building: the “Weiyi Supermarket.”

The rustling behind him grew louder; the three had attracted more ghost hands.

No time to care about their origins—first, find a place to hide!

The supermarket would do.

Faster than Lan Mo’s group, Yan Jiyun reached the supermarket, leapt onto a windowsill, and felt a cold draft from inside. He crouched, waiting for them.

Lan Mo and Shi Yan, both well-trained, kept up their speed.

Even at night, Yan Jiyun’s eyes, adjusted to the moonlight, quickly spotted them. They soon found him.

His strength was limited; he waited for Lan Mo to come open the heavy window.

Lan Mo didn’t disappoint. Once it was open, Yan Jiyun jumped inside first. The supermarket was quiet—a stark contrast to the racket outside.

Perhaps it was safe here, for now.

But the ghost hands were still coming; He Yuanle, out of breath, was flung inside by Lan Mo and Shi Yan. Shi Yan vaulted in, then Lan Mo last.

Still, two ghost hands grabbed Lan Mo’s right leg!

Perched atop the checkout counter, Yan Jiyun watched as Lan Mo dispatched the hands and tumbled in, Shi Yan slamming the window down.

Their teamwork was seamless.

Both were Qi Feng’s teammates—they’d survived many an instance together and probably synchronized as well as Qi Feng himself.

It was enviable. Yan Jiyun and Qi Feng never had such perfect coordination.

After catching his breath, Lan Mo approached the cat on the counter.

Yan Jiyun decided not to reveal himself; as Lan Mo came near, he hopped onto a shelf.

Lan Mo sheathed his knife and, rubbing his hands, approached: “Little black cat—Caramel—”

Yan Jiyun remained unmoved. Who was Caramel?

He hadn’t expected Qi Feng’s teammates to be so—

Before he could find the right word, the ghost hands outside crashed against the supermarket’s shuttered door.

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!