Cat 221: Who Has the Best Luck?

Chapter 221: Who Has the Best Luck?

No one understood better than Yan Jiyun how exhausted Little Nine was. “Caramel” was nominally Qi Feng’s cat, so decisions regarding it had to be made by him; Yan Jiyun couldn’t overstep his bounds.

Naturally, Qi Feng was concerned about his own cat. He remembered it had cried before Yan Jiyun woke up, and back then, he had felt a pang of sorrow—it was unclear for whom the sorrow was truly felt.

Rest time within the dungeon was extremely limited; they were now in the third scene of this instance, and not a second more could be wasted. For the sake of his cat’s health, Qi Feng was willing to bend and adapt. He let go of grievances for the time being—nothing was currently more important than Caramel’s wellbeing.

“Mm, give it a check. It doesn’t look very energetic.”

Su Qiuming was not as mobile; to avoid suspicion, Yan Jiyun didn’t want to add another point for Qi Feng to keep an eye on, so he put Caramel on the table in front of Su Qiuming. Little Nine didn’t even want to lift its eyelids, its whole body limp, sprawling along the table like a long ribbon.

This was well beyond just looking listless.

Yan Jiyun, somewhat guilty, lowered his head. The others thought he was grieving.

Su Qiuming, himself injured, had been spared most of the fighting, and thus had slightly more rest than the others—he was in better spirits at this moment.

He lifted Little Nine’s eyelid, checked its teeth, but lacking proper tools, could only assess the very surface.

Yan Jiyun suspected he was only half-competent and wouldn’t be able to discover much. Glancing toward Qi Feng, he remembered his “treasure chest”. That thing was probably like his humanoid experience card. Could Su Qiuming’s bonus points have been allocated to his eyes? Yan Jiyun looked searchingly into Su Qiuming’s eyes.

Su Qiuming narrowed his eyes slightly; his gaze at Little Nine differed entirely from how he looked at people.

He then glanced around at the others. Even Qi Yunchu, though ill, could still survive. So what was his initial survival skill? Chu Mo and Wen Ye surely had their own.

Everyone had one; a survival skill meant to offset a player’s natural flaws.

No wonder Su Qiuming always went straight to the heart of things—perhaps he could exchange with the system for a specialized observation skill. But how extensive was that skill? Could it directly see through his real identity? Yet Su Qiuming hadn’t exposed him thus far—could his eyes work like X-rays? Could he see through the humanoid disguise of the experience card?

Yan Jiyun’s lowered eyes betrayed a flash of alarm. It was clear he couldn’t underestimate any player. Su Qiuming had braved countless top-level instances—he must not be taken lightly, and arrogance would be disastrous.

Caution and humility—that was the way forward.

Su Qiuming had already examined Little Nine for several minutes. Yan Jiyun hoped the copycat would hold up, letting nothing seem amiss.

Qi Feng, more anxious about “Caramel” than Yan Jiyun, pressed, “Did you find anything?”

Su Qiuming felt Little Nine’s limbs and pressed its belly.

Under everyone’s anxious gaze, he said, “Didn’t find any issues. It should just be tired.”

Yan Jiyun let out a silent sigh of relief, hugging Little Nine back into his arms. “Good, nothing’s wrong. I’m feeling a little cold, I’ll hold Caramel to warm up.”

Qi Feng remarked, “So the reason you switched seats with me earlier was just because you were cold?”

Yan Jiyun, clutching the limp Little Nine, nodded casually, “Of course, it’s snowing—who wouldn’t warm up with a cat?” Luckily, when Su Qiuming examined Little Nine, its body had been warm and it still breathed. But from now on, he had to be extra careful not to let Little Nine be taken from his arms, especially not by Qi Feng.

If Little Nine should suddenly lose all signs of life in front of everyone, there’d be no more “Caramel”. No matter how he tried to explain, there’d be no way to clear the suspicion. Qi Feng, distracted now by the dungeon, might not have analyzed things too deeply yet, but when he did, he’d surely realize how bizarre it was that Yan’s ID could wake him up. If Little Nine disappeared then and the truth about “Caramel” came to light, it would only be a matter of time before people drew connections between him and “Caramel”.

Luckily, there were many people present, and “Caramel” was just a mascot in their eyes. Once Su Qiuming confirmed it was physically fine, the group began to discuss how to leave the dungeon.

Their main quest still had not been completed.

But after dealing with the brat and the shopkeeper, the snow globe as a Christmas gift seemed to have lost all value.

Chu Mo propped his chin with both hands. “Is it possible the gifts are different in every scene?”

Qi Yunchu: “No way. If that’s true, then we’d have to search this entire street again for a new gift.”

Yan Jiyun tucked Little Nine into his arms, then leaned in toward Qi Feng, “Brother Feng, read me the main quest again.”

It was a reasonable request. Qi Feng read aloud, “On the night Christmas Eve arrives, find the Christmas gift sent by Santa Claus.”

Yan Jiyun approached it differently. “There are three keywords in that sentence.”

Qi Feng nodded. “Christmas Eve, Santa Claus, Christmas gift.”

They had been fixating on the Christmas gift.

In truth, they’d thought about all three terms—but perspective shifted with every scene, and thus the emphasis changed as well.

In the mall, there were mutated Santas and reindeer, various main and side quests coming at them. It was only natural that “Christmas Eve” and “Santa Claus” had fallen out of focus. In the snow globe, they’d entered a gift shop and become stuck on the last task, so focusing on “Christmas gift” was only logical—who would’ve expected a third scene?

This top-level instance really had quite a wild imagination.

Wen Ye: “There are six hours left before Christmas Eve ends.”

Chu Mo: “Santa Claus really does put presents in children’s stockings on Christmas Eve, but that’s just the traditional story.”

Wen Ye rarely spoke; his creativity was a bit weaker than the rest. “In fact, this is a bloody Christmas.”

Su Qiuming: “A bloody Christmas will surely continue.”

Yan Jiyun, supporting his chin, considered, “So where exactly is the sweetness in ‘Sweet Christmas’?”

His thoughts drifted far afield.

As he spoke, the café’s door swung open and a server walked out with a tray, placing five fragrant cups of coffee in front of them. Shortly after, another server brought out aromatic Christmas roast turkey sets.

Chu Mo inhaled the scent of the coffee. “Perhaps it’s in this cup of coffee.”

Qi Yunchu: “I don’t recall us ordering coffee, or the Christmas set.”

Wen Ye: “Maybe it’s a reward for clearing the snow globe?”

Su Qiuming: “It could be a trap.”

Yan Jiyun was already tearing off a turkey leg. “Not bad.” He ripped off another leg and offered it to Qi Feng. “Want some?”

Qi Feng accepted it, unable to refuse such a gesture. “Sure.”

The other four looked at the pair, speechless.

Qi Yunchu: “Neither of you are worried there might be poison?”

Qi Feng now hesitated, neither eating nor putting it down.

Yan Jiyun swallowed a mouthful of meat, playing the part of a carefree rookie. “Food sent to us must be for eating—how else will we have strength to clear the next stage?”

After days of physical hardship without a proper meal, the group fell silent. …He did make a good point.

Qi Feng chuckled softly. After his recent brush with death, he felt liberated—what should be eaten, should be eaten. Besides, Yan Jiyun looked rather cute eating.

If he were truly famished, he’d be devouring food, but instead he ate leisurely, bite by bite.

Qi Feng also noticed a little gesture: Yan Jiyun picked off some meat and brought it to “Caramel’s” mouth, but with the table blocking the view, no one could be sure if “Caramel” ate.

Yan Jiyun brought food to Little Nine’s mouth, but saw its lips never parted, its body unmoving. A chill crept into his heart, and the meat and coffee in front of him lost all flavor.

His little companion was leaving with no warning, catching him completely off guard.

Acting as if nothing was amiss, Yan Jiyun finished his drumstick, ate a piece of cauliflower, took a few sips of plain water, and touched nothing else.

Qi Feng watched him out of the corner of his eye. “You’re eating so little?”

They’d nearly finished off the whole turkey, but after Yan Jiyun’s drumstick, he didn’t go for seconds; he didn’t touch bread or mashed potatoes, either.

Yan Jiyun pressed his stomach. “I’m full.” It was an enormous chicken leg, enough to surpass his usual capacity—he found his appetite had increased lately.

Qi Feng offered kindly, “There’s a tough fight ahead, you should try to eat a bit more.”

He noticed that, after the waiters had brought them food so suddenly, the once-empty street outside grew lively—people came and went, the festive atmosphere swelling. If they looked closer, though, every NPC on the street wore the same expression—it was almost as if the game studio had botched the modeling.

Yan Jiyun wasn’t entirely carefree—he noticed, too. But mostly, he was focused on hiding Little Nine’s condition.

Little Nine was Caramel’s stand-in, and could not disappear just yet. Yan Jiyun still hadn’t figured out a better solution; after all, he had used Little Nine as Caramel before. If Little Nine “froze” now, his earlier deeds would dig his own grave. Who could have foreseen such a reversal in the copy system? No wonder none of the other players’ copies made it out of the snow globe—his nine cats were already an anomaly.

He unzipped his coat, tucking Little Nine inside, arranging it as if a cat were curled up sleeping on his chest.

Qi Yunchu elegantly set down his coffee cup. “At this rate, people would think you’re raising a son instead of a cat.”

Yan Jiyun felt a guilty pang, but feigned composure. “Of course it’s a son! You have to look after him day and night.”

Qi Feng said nothing—he did, indeed, raise Caramel as if it were a son, though he’d never utter such words.

Fed and watered, everyone rapidly shifted from a relaxed mood to a state of heightened alertness, returning to the puzzle of Christmas Eve, Santa Claus, and the Christmas gift. Now, they also had the strange situation on the street to consider: the threat could appear at any moment.

Su Qiuming brought the discussion back to the main quest. “Night has already fallen—Santa Claus should be on duty by now.”

Qi Yunchu seemed inspired. “It feels like we’re nearing the climax of the game. Look, all the pedestrians are walking in the same direction.”

Chu Mo hopped onto a neighboring table to get a better look. “There’s a plaza up ahead—anything special over there?”

At that moment, the street’s festive lights came on. Suddenly the automatons of before perked up, their faces animated, movements fluid, not stiff at all.

Was the earlier awkwardness just bad programming?

Someone shouted, “Santa Claus is giving out presents!”

Qi Feng reached out to grab a nearby NPC who was about to run forward. “Hey, mind telling us what’s going on with Santa giving out presents?”

The NPC stared in surprise. “You really didn’t know? Every year on Christmas Eve, Santa gives out presents at the plaza!”

Qi Feng: “It’s our first Christmas here, so we’re new—could you explain it to us?”

Yan Jiyun realized the dungeon’s pacing was reversed. In other dungeons, players were given the plot from the start—then battled and leveled up according to it, culminating with a final boss fight. If you won, you cleared; if you lost, you died. But this place was different. The front half was all about battling monsters, but now, at the end, they were finally moving into the story. It was truly unique.

The NPC was quite willing to chat. He said that every Christmas Eve, gifts were given out at the plaza—people came because presents could be cheap or expensive. Cheap ones were trivial trinkets like hats or stuffed animals; expensive ones could be jewelry. Someone once received a ruby on the spot.

After sharing this, the NPC dashed off to fight for presents, quickly vanishing into the crowd.

Chu Mo: “Now that’s a real Santa Claus present.”

Qi Yunchu felt a touch of helplessness. “So after all this, the closer to the end, the clearer things get—the Christmas present we need awaits us here.”

Yan Jiyun: “This is like opening mystery boxes. But how will we know which is the right Christmas present to give the game? With so many people here, surely thousands will be handed out.”

Su Qiuming nodded in agreement. “Exactly.”

Qi Feng asked, “So what if—just hypothetically—among us five, who has the best luck?”

Everyone looked at each other.

Su Qiuming: “I once won a ‘try again’ bottle cap.”

Qi Yunchu: “I did win a first prize once—a gym membership in a lucky draw. But only after I’d bought thirty thousand yuan worth of classes.”

Everyone: “……”

Wen Ye: “Never won a lottery in my life.”

Chu Mo: “By that standard, I’ve won a special prize, too.”

He instantly earned the hopeful gazes of four pairs of eyes.

Chu Mo added, “The special prize was a photo with the boss.”

Everyone: “……”

Qi Feng, himself a boss, was puzzled. “What’s so bad about a photo with the owner?”

Yan Jiyun asked him, “So, how’s your luck?”

Qi Feng: “I give out the prizes. I never enter the draws.”

Everyone: “……”

Finally, Yan Jiyun was left. All eyes turned to him, the lone newcomer and, apparently, their last hope.

Noticing their expectant looks, Yan Jiyun pointed to himself, putting on a playful air. “Me, a newcomer, making it into the top-level instance with you all. Take a guess?”

None of them had thought luck could be such a distinct quality, and instead, a vague sense of relief filled them.

They all nodded in unison: Good, you’re the unluckiest one here.

[‘Want to Be Human’ Live Room:]

“Hahaha, damn, if Cat Cub hadn’t listed it, no one would’ve noticed how unlucky he was. Is it because he’s Black?”

“Hahaha, none of these five have any luck! Qi Yunchu’s thirty-thousand-yuan gym class got me, that’s just a scam!”

“Brother Feng is killing me—he doesn’t even get to enter the draw, just gives the prizes out.”

“I think Chu Mo’s was funniest—a photo with the boss? I’d rip up my prize list! Who wants that?”

“God, I’m dying, these people’s lives are just traps—only the ‘try again’ cap is halfway normal.”

As light laughter rippled through the live room, Yan Jiyun and the others had already followed the NPCs to line up for Christmas presents at the plaza.

The line was impossibly long, nearly vanishing into the distance; all of the NPCs were queuing up. If they tried to cut in, they would only draw unwanted attention.

Clearly, waiting in line wasn’t the optimal strategy. Qi Feng suggested, “You all wait here. I’ll go ahead to see how long the line is.”

Wen Ye, who had paired up well with him that day, said, “I’ll come with you.” The two could watch out for each other.

The four others remained where they were, queuing.

Yan Jiyun, still holding Little Nine’s faintly warm body, uttered a resigned question, “Are we really going to stand in the freezing wind for six hours?”

The other three: “…” Thanks, please don’t jinx us.