Cat 220: The Cat Is Sick?

Chapter 220 The Cat Is Sick?

[To Be Human] Live Stream:

“Is the kitty dead? He’s not moving!”

“No, he’s not! The stream’s still running!”

“He woke up! He woke up—his eyelids moved! That timing was so tight, he almost didn’t make it!”

“Incredible, how did the owner manage it? What numbers did he enter to save the kitty? I remember the kitty didn’t have a tag; those eleven digits must be a player ID. I can’t think of any other kind of code this instance would use—it’s not an escape room game.”

“So, putting it together, the function that pulled his consciousness from his body was Scan, and then the owner used Fax with his own ID to summon the kitty’s consciousness back?”

“By that logic, the two share one ID! [Shocked face.jpg]”

“What does it mean for player and pet to share an ID? Does the game allow two players to use the same account?”

“No way. They have separate streams and can pick their own instances; they can’t possibly share one ID. It must be a quirk of the printer—maybe you can pull anyone back as long as you have an ID.”

“I don’t buy it. Game settings are full of connections—there’s no way Qi Feng could save the kitty for no reason.”

The stream was functioning normally, and Yan Jiyun slowly awakened. Chu Mo was the first to notice his eyelids fluttering. Qi Feng’s fingers were still ice-cold from entering the ID, worried it wouldn’t work and waiting desperately for a result.

Chu Mo exclaimed excitedly, “He’s awake! Qi Feng got it right—Yan Jiyun’s awake!”

Yan Jiyun’s eyelids felt impossibly heavy; he really thought he was going to disappear. But at the sound of a “beep,” his consciousness returned to his body. His eyes shot open; he realized there was something pressing on his shoulder.

He remembered—it was Little Nine.

Turning his head, he saw confusion in Little Nine’s eyes as the cat nuzzled his face.

He drew a deep breath and pushed himself up from the ground. “Cough, cough!”

Qi Feng, fingers still curled near the printer, turned in shock, a joy too intense to hide in his eyes.

Although he’d experienced loss and danger before, this was the first time he’d felt utterly powerless—and the first time he’d ever felt the urge to risk his own life to bring someone back.

He didn’t know why this desire had emerged—maybe it was just fate with Yan Jiyun.

Yes, a strong sense of connection—Yan Jiyun just felt right to him.

Yan Jiyun pushed up off the ground to sit; Qi Feng reached to help him, and Yan Jiyun handed him his own hand. Qi Feng gripped the warm palm, heart settling with relief.

Standing steadily, Yan Jiyun stretched his arms and kicked his legs; he was fine, and the out-of-body experience already seemed like a distant accident.

The others, seeing his sudden revival, were briefly at a loss for words. So that was how the printer worked… Thank goodness Qi Feng hadn’t pressed the wrong button. Otherwise, Yan Jiyun might not be here now.

Qi Feng stared at him, and all traces of his earlier distress vanished as Yan Jiyun opened his eyes. Seeing him alive, Qi Feng finally let go of the breath he’d been holding.

He suppressed the urge to pull him close, and instead asked, “Are you feeling unwell anywhere?”

Having already hugged Qi Feng in Little Nine’s form, and now fully returned, Yan Jiyun decided against any more comforting gestures.

He shook his head. “No.” He couldn’t exactly explain that his mind had entered Little Nine’s body, so he buried everything he’d just gone through down inside.

Qi Feng wanted to ask more, but Chu Mo clapped Yan Jiyun’s shoulder from behind.

Chu Mo treated him like a brother. “You scared the hell out of me when you passed out. You stopped breathing, you know? Do you know how you woke up?”

If he hadn’t taken the hit instead, it would have been him lying on the ground without breath.

He talked a mile a minute and recounted everything that had happened since Yan Jiyun fainted.

Yan Jiyun patted his own chest with lingering fear. “That was really close—a narrow escape for sure.”

Chu Mo agreed, “Seriously, that machine—I’d smash it if I could. It’s anti-human.”

Qi Feng said nothing more, just squeezed Yan Jiyun’s shoulder and addressed the others: “Since Jiyun’s okay, let’s get out of here.” He glanced at the printer. “Chu Mo, I support you—smash it.”

Qi Yunchu asked, “You don’t want to study it?”

Qi Feng replied, “With our lives on the line?”

Qi Yunchu rethought things after seeing Yan Jiyun wake up. “Then smash it.”

Yan Jiyun felt no attachment to the thing. They had no time or use for research—it had only brought them disaster.

Su Qiuming, the observer, asked, “If you smash it and more people come out of the crystal ball, won’t they lose the chance to return to normal size?”

Qi Feng said, “There’s no need.”

The shopkeeper was tied up, the brat subdued, and being forcibly enlarged by the printer had probably drained much of his life-force.

Qi Feng offered no further explanation, and Su Qiuming’s face darkened with the dismissal.

Yan Jiyun, moving closer to Qi Feng, understood his motive. The rest room was now crowded with six; space was tight. He offered a guess: “Smash the printer, and as long as it can’t keep operating, everything should revert. Maybe then we can get out of here. Just my guess, though.” Of course, it might not—he still wondered what code Qi Feng had entered to save him.

He mainly meant that the copier’s function might tie to the existence of copies—no copier, no more copies.

Qi Feng nodded. “That’s about right.”

No one but Qi Feng knew what he’d been through, and he privately wanted to smash the thing to pieces.

Yan Jiyun voiced his support. “Then smash it.”

No one could think of any good reason to keep the printer.

Qi Feng said, “You all go ahead. Leave this to me.”

Fully recovered, Yan Jiyun grabbed both Little Nine and the crystal ball filled with copy-cats and was the first to leave the rest room.

With the printer destroyed, no one would dwell on which number Qi Feng had used—likely the player ID.

Qi Yunchu helped Su Qiuming to his feet, while Chu Mo and Wen Ye filed out behind them.

They all gathered at the front counter, waiting for Qi Feng.

Qi Feng closed the door. As he did, he tossed a black ball into the room.

He quickly made his way to the front desk, urging, “Get down.”

As soon as he spoke, Qi Feng dove and a blast rocked the rest room behind him!

Yan Jiyun, still inside, flinched as Qi Feng pressed him down. The crash shook his ears, but he felt no pain—he was too distracted.

After the noise passed, he asked Qi Feng, “You carry weapons? Are you some kind of walking treasure chest?” After all, he’d run and jumped all over him and never found a weapon.

He paused, suddenly wondering if Qi Feng had special items.

Qi Feng nodded. “Mm, treasure chest.”

Got it!

Such an item was like being the system’s favored son; almost anything could be stored. Maybe not invincible, but incredibly practical. No wonder Qi Feng could always pull out whatever was needed in a crisis.

Chu Mo went back to check: the printer was blown to pieces, grey shards everywhere. The tool that had controlled them was now gone, and everyone breathed more easily.

Now, everyone turned their eyes to the shop door, which for four hours had refused to budge.

Qi Yunchu took the lead and drew a deep breath. “We can finally leave.”

Everyone was exhausted by doppelgängers, crystal balls, giants, and printers alike.

The five of them left the gift shop; Yan Jiyun and Qi Feng brought up the rear.

The front door closed behind them automatically. When Yan Jiyun turned to push, he realized it was welded shut—like a real estate model home, made for show and not for use.

Both wore the exhaustion of survivors, but there was still light in their eyes.

They stood together on the street.

From the shop window, the world outside had looked empty, but out here, the entire street brimmed with Christmas spirit.

It was a commercial street; opposite was a bakery, and farther on, a great square with a giant Christmas tree in its center.

Yan Jiyun still carried a half-finished Christmas gift. The fake Caramel—Little Nine—was taken from him by Qi Feng. Glancing back, he thought, That little sneak lucked out.

Qi Feng looked down at Little Nine as well. “I don’t know what’s wrong with Caramel—he’s so listless.”

“Maybe just tired.” Yan Jiyun pointed to the crystal ball in Qi Feng’s arms; inside, the eight copy-cats looked exhausted, each one sleepier than the next. “They all look tired. It’s night now—they sleep early. By midnight, they’ll be running wild.”

It was all nonsense.

Yan Jiyun noticed what Qi Feng hadn’t: after leaving the crystal ball, the nine copy-cats lost their former vitality. Once the shop closed, their spirits drooped even further, as if something essential had been drained.

They were copies, and with the copy machine destroyed, the effect was cascading.

Yan Jiyun glanced anxiously at Little Nine—please don’t disappear in Qi Feng’s arms.

He’d been focusing on taking revenge for his scanned mind, only to wind up ensnaring himself. If Little Nine vanished, it’d be proof he wasn’t the real Caramel.

He still wasn’t sly enough. Impulsiveness is the devil.

Yan Jiyun scratched his head—Qi Feng wasn’t stupid; he’d spot something off sooner or later. All he could do was pray Little Nine lasted till the end of the instance, at least not vanishing right in front of Qi Feng—otherwise, his identity as Caramel would be irretrievably blown. The more he thought, the more his expression twisted.

Suddenly, Qi Feng took hold of his arm. “What are you thinking? Let’s find a place to rest.”

They hadn’t dared rest in the gift shop, fearing the shopkeeper or brat would recover and give them even more trouble for little gain.

Yan Jiyun, still preoccupied with not exposing himself, had forgotten to ask about their third scenario.

“Alright, where should we rest?” He realized if he kept walking he’d overshoot.

Chu Mo and Wen Ye were already seated nearby.

It was a café, still open. Given what they’d just endured, they chose to sit outdoors—back to the wind, not too cold.

Qi Feng and Yan Jiyun walked slowly down the Christmas-lined street together as soft snow began to swirl down.

Yan Jiyun reached out to catch some flakes.

Qi Feng’s eyes lingered on his face, and in a low voice only the two could hear, said, “Do you know what number I entered into the printer?”

Yan Jiyun’s heart skipped a beat. He feigned ignorance, keeping calm: “Eh? Right, I never got to ask how you brought me back. I haven’t even thanked you—thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Qi Feng nearly lost the thread of his topic. Maybe he was overthinking—it was possible no one else had ever encountered a situation like Yan Jiyun’s. Still, his doubts remained. Why had his own game ID worked to save Yan Jiyun?

He’d never found an instance where his own number could save another. Before this, they weren’t even close. What was the logic? Or was there something more between him and Yan Jiyun?

He looked at “Caramel,” fast asleep in his arms. Maybe Caramel was the bridge? Caramel had been pressed against Yan Jiyun’s neck, and as Caramel’s new owner, with Caramel as his sub-account, that was the best theory yet. Maybe Yan Jiyun and Caramel had some sort of bond bonus. But that was a stretch—Yan Jiyun himself nearly died and knew nothing of it.

He glanced up, and saw Yan Jiyun was also staring at Caramel.

Yan Jiyun said, “Let’s trade. I want to hold Caramel for a while.”

Qi Feng agreed, giving him Caramel and taking the crystal ball.

The little black cats inside were already sluggish; Qi Feng, knowing they were fake, didn’t care much—but Little Nine was now a full-sized cat, clearly different.

Yan Jiyun gently shook Little Nine, who only lifted his eyelids before dozing again.

Shit! Now that the printer was gone, would Little Nine disappear?

He checked the instance timer.

[Time until game ends: 06:03:05]

His own experience card had 2 days 10 hours 45 minutes left—enough for now.

But Little Nine might not last!

As soon as they settled down, someone just had to poke the sore spot.

Su Qiuming began, “Is that cat sick?”

Yan Jiyun scrambled: “Probably not, maybe just tired.”

Su Qiuming said, “I studied some veterinary medicine before. I can take a look.”

Yan Jiyun: “…”

If only Qi Feng and Su Qiuming could fall out even more completely.