Cat 279: Playing House-Who’s the Bride

Chapter 279: Playing House—Who’s the Bride

[Have You Seen My Cat?] livestream chat:

“I’m dying of laughter! This is the first time I’ve seen Brother Feng so relaxed in a dungeon—is this the true joy of having a cat by your side?”

“Brother Feng’s cat is incredible. Every swing is right on target. If it weren’t for the cat, how would Brother Feng get through this level? I’m really curious.”

“He’d just tough it out with brute force—the balls are hittable, it would just take more time. There are plenty of balls on the field.”

“The rest of the game is still in chaos, but Brother Feng and his cat are about to clear the stage.” The Best Video Gamer

“How did Brother Feng know these balls were played by NPCs? Seems like none of the other players even care.”

“This kitten is killing me with laughter—others are dead serious, fighting for their lives, but he’s just seriously playing.”

“I feel like some strange phrases are popping up in Brother Feng’s stream…”

“Ah, we’re all family here, no need to be formal. Don’t just call him ‘Brother Feng’s cat’—let’s all call him Kitten. We can share cat-raising tips! Bet you didn’t know, a few days ago Kitten and his owner entered a dungeon together—the live-action was wild! The owner turned into an overbearing alpha—intense forced love!”

“Brother Feng wasn’t streaming before, how could he have entered the game? Quit fooling us.”

“Heh, then you’re missing out on tons of good scenes. That’s all I’ll say.”

[Want to Be Human] livestream chat:

“Back from the Kitten Owner stream, that atmosphere’s no good. Our Kitten’s channel is way more fun~”

“Ha, Kitten just hit another ball. Hahahaha, these NPCs are having a rough time. Glad I didn’t sign up for the NPC experience session in this tournament, or Kitten would’ve beaten me half to death!”

“No big deal—it’s just a consciousness experience. Just lower pain sensitivity to zero.”

“But what if some overconfident participant didn’t lower their pain settings?”

“Oof, that hurts just thinking about it. Three seconds of silence for that poor soul.”

And indeed, just as the comments predicted, there was one particularly arrogant experiencer. He had great luck—every time he signed up, he was chosen by the game, and as an NPC, he always performed spectacularly. No player could get past the stages he guarded unscathed, and even if they did, he made sure they had a hellish experience. This time, the experiencer had been assigned to the blindfolded ball-hitting round.

He was confident he could torture the players, never letting them through. With all the players blindfolded, they’d be at his mercy.

He loved watching players panic, helpless against his games. Victory was certain in this round!

Experiencer 097 bounced around gleefully, first inciting player skirmishes. As long as there was bloodshed, he felt his time as an NPC was well spent—it only thrilled him more. Buoyed by past high scores as an NPC, this time he’d only reduced pain to 50%. As a ball on a field of hundreds, with blind players everywhere, there was no way anyone could hit him.

097 jumped and tumbled, trading banter with other experiencers.

“These players are hopeless—nobody’s hit a single ball.”

“Maybe this round’s just tougher. But hey, I saw a player hit a ball just now—watch your back.”

“Tch, no way these stupid players are any match for us. They’ll be eliminated soon enough!”

Number 097 completely ignored the screams of fellow experiencers being forcefully logged out as they were eliminated.

As an experienced NPC, 097 felt untouchable. Ignoring all advice, he spotted two overly cautious players who had tied themselves together—he especially liked messing with the fearful ones, delighting in their dejection when they missed. He planned to stick around and savor their panic when they got split up.

Rather than targeting others, he decided to tease these two.

097 bounced up to the bat-wielding player, knowing they couldn’t see him; he aimed to break the knot between them and watch them flounder in confusion.

Dark laughter in mind, he acted. With a powerful leap, he flung himself toward the knot between the two.

He leaped. He crashed forward. And was smashed to the ground by a single swing!

“AAAAAAGH, IT HURTS, IT HURTS!”

Why was it so painful?

Simple. The “foolish” players had actually slammed him to the ground with the bat, then pinned him there with a boot before he could bounce away.

Nearly out of his mind with pain, 097 was stunned—how could he, the proud NPC, be taken out by these ants? Impossible!

And yet… it felt like his waist had been snapped in two!

Was he really being hammered into the ground?

He bitterly regretted not turning pain all the way to zero!

He figured after being hit, the system would boot him, but nothing happened. Without a system prompt, he was stuck. He’d file for a work injury after this—what kind of moronic player bashes an NPC’s waist so hard? Despicable! The Best Video Gamer

097 waited to be logged out, but instead, he was hoisted up by a player with a terrifying grip—no amount of struggling helped.

He heard the bat-wielder mutter, “I heard this ball talking just now—see if you can question it. I think I heard it screaming. I’ll go hit two more balls; if it won’t talk, we’ll leave the game.”

It was Yan Jiyun, who specialized in catching the talkative balls—these had more personality and were easier to work with.

“Be careful—these balls are sly, don’t let them catch you,” Qi Feng warned, always right behind Yan Jiyun, his main job now interrogating balls—a skill he was quickly mastering.

097’s arrogance was now uncertainty.

Why, after ten seconds, hadn’t the system pulled him out yet?

The man in the brown jacket pinched the ball, “How did you get into the game?”

097 dared not speak; it was forbidden to reveal game-related details.

Without warning, Qi Feng performed his patented stretch move, elongating the ball—immediately, a sharp pain shot through 097’s sensitive spot.

Damn! With his pain only reduced 50%, this player had found his weak point.

097 howled, “You idiotic scum! Stop, unhand your grandpa right now!”

Yan Jiyun said, “He doesn’t seem very cooperative. Want me to punch him too?”

097 broke out in a cold sweat: “……”

Qi Feng grinned and punched 097. “No need—I’ll do it myself.”

097 was in so much pain, he nearly blacked out… but the player’s control was precise; he couldn’t even faint to log out!

097 realized if he didn’t talk, they’d never let him go. “What—what do you people want?”

Qi Feng cocked his fist for another punch: “Answer me honestly. How did you enter the game?”

097’s voice quavered, “Don’t hit me! I’ll talk! We enter the game through consciousness!”

Qi Feng pressed on, “What technology did the developers use?”

097 stammered, “I—I don’t know!”

Qi Feng’s fist fell again, the ball squeaked in pain.

097 sobbed, “AAAAAGH! Stupid player! I’m going to tell my mom!”

Qi Feng: “Just answer my questions, and you won’t get hurt.”

If their theory was correct, the developers and the spectators must share the same dimension, their technology far beyond Earth’s. Otherwise, why would only Earthlings get pulled into the game, and not any random livestream viewer?

And, in the stream, not only was game plot disclosure forbidden, but revealing information about the game operators was also banned.

Whatever the game wanted to hide, they would dig up. That’s how it should be.

Qi Feng: “How do you get out?”

097, bullied into honesty, sniffled, “Once our experience time is up, our link to the game is automatically severed; once our consciousness disconnects we can leave.” The Best Video Gamer

Qi Feng: “What do you use to connect to the game?”

097 started, “Of course it’s—zzzzz—”

System: Detected breach of experience rules by 097. Immediate forced disconnection!

As his consciousness was yanked out, 097 felt like he’d survived a brush with death—he’d nearly been beaten to death by a player! Death itself had seemed near!

Qi Feng’s hand was empty. He leaned in to Yan Jiyun, murmuring, “The NPC vanished again. I timed it—it’s about thirty seconds before the system catches on. We did get a bit of useful info, though.”

Both were keeping track of the game time. The Best Video Gamer

Yan Jiyun listened for other balls. Only those last two were special; the rest were quiet.

He said, “None of the other balls made a sound when hit. Squeaks are just the ball itself—ones that talk are actually conscious.”

Qi Feng: “Yeah. Some are system-generated; some are played by spectators. Some can feel pain, some can’t. There must be some mechanism.”

Yan Jiyun: “If it’s conscious entry, then pain must be modulatable. Let’s discuss after we’re out—a bit dangerous to talk here.”

Qi Feng: “Mm.”

It was just a sliver of information, but piecing it with prior clues, they could infer a good deal about the game.

With Yan Jiyun’s earlier hints, most players began earnestly searching for balls—first catching, then squeezing, then hitting with a bat. Results were promising.

Some players even set aside their competitiveness and cooperated, with surprising progress.

Yan Jiyun and Qi Feng were just one ball away. The round was actually quite hard. “Should we help them?” Yan Jiyun asked.

Qi Feng: “You wouldn’t ask unless you wanted to.”

Yan Jiyun: “Within reason, I like to help. Not everyone is evil.”

Qi Feng: “I’ll follow your lead.”

Yan Jiyun gripped Qi Feng’s wrist, “As expected of my master!”

Qi Feng’s heart skipped—‘master’ had such a pleasant sound.

Yan Jiyun decided to spend a little time helping the others. His hearing was still sharp; he guided any players nearby.

Several players took his advice, collaborating on catching balls. The chaos of the start faded.

After spreading a bit of kindness, Yan Jiyun struck the last ball. With Qi Feng, his vision returned, and they found themselves at the empty game entrance.

Once again, they clinched first place—unsurprisingly.

The little raccoon greeted their arrival with a flat voice, apparently numbed by their repeated wins—there was no trace of enthusiasm in his congratulations.

Little Raccoon: “Congratulations to you both for taking first place yet again.”

Yan Jiyun jumped in, “Do we get any new reward this time? Skip-a-level or level selection rights?”

Little Raccoon: “Since you’ve taken first place for three consecutive rounds, you get one extra reward. Besides skipping a level, you will also have the right to choose the next game round.”

Qi Feng: “If we skip a level, how much harder will the game become?”

Little Raccoon: “No comment.”

Qi Feng: “We choose to skip.”

Yan Jiyun started browsing the next level selections.

Since they’d skipped a round, the screen immediately disabled several options—but many challenging rounds remained.

There were only names, no details—the experience was similar to choosing a dungeon. In fact, each level was basically a mini-dungeon. Nothing wrong with thinking of them that way.

Yan Jiyun’s gaze finally settled on an option. “How about this?”

He didn’t say the name aloud, worried the little raccoon would lock them in if he did.

Qi Feng hesitated. “Isn’t it a bit tough?”

Yan Jiyun hinted, “I think more people will choose this. When it comes to immersive scenarios, players always prefer active storylines.” He was thinking of the spectator-experiencers—he wanted to catch and interrogate a few more.

Qi Feng gave Yan Jiyun a deep look. “Alright.”

Yan Jiyun rubbed his hands, immensely looking forward to the next round. Throwing an arm around Qi Feng, he promised, “Relax, my greatest strength is acting!”

Qi Feng thought, He’d wait and see. He was actually a bit curious about how this new round would play out.

[Want to Be Human] livestream chat:

“Wait, why can’t we see the screen? What scenario did Kitten and his master pick?”

“Maybe it’s confidential? The way the master interrogated that experiencer was brilliant.”

“Tsk, can’t wait to see what havoc Kitten and his master stir up in the next game. Honestly a bit excited.”

Round five concluded. Together with Yan Jiyun’s “cooperation” cheats, thirty-nine teams cleared it, and after just one minute’s rest, everyone was thrown into round ten. The players’ exhaustion was palpable—they were more tired than plow oxen!

[Welcome, players, to the ‘Playing House: Who’s the Bride?’ game theater.]