Cat 290: The Undercover Identity

Chapter 290: The Undercover Identity

As Yan Jiyun dashed toward the living room, he abruptly stopped. This damned game was as devious as ever.

No wonder they’d felt so drowsy after entering their rooms—the game had clearly pulled some strings, intentionally luring all the players to their respective grade-specific hotels, then, as soon as everyone let their guard down, used some trick to put them all to sleep and drag them unconsciously into the second round of the game.

What kind of game requires you to play inside a dream?

The lack of items didn’t trouble Yan Jiyun too much, but not having his experience card at this moment was a real adjustment. He’d become so fluid in shifting between human and feline form that being forced back to square one now was infuriating.

He recalled the plaza rules: the second round was a team game, but the game had dispersed everyone as soon as it started. His top priority now was to find Qi Feng. If his experience card didn’t return before he found his teammates, everything would depend on how Qi Feng adapted on the fly.

If he wanted to go forward, he’d have to come clean with his teammates about his identity.

Yan Jiyun had thought about revealing himself before, but he’d hoped for a gradual process. Now, it seemed he’d been shoved into it unprepared.

Moving lightly, Yan Jiyun stepped out from the bedroom into the living room. There was no hint of anyone’s presence outside, not even footsteps.

The system had revealed so little this time, not even a timestamp. Were it not for the stray glance he’d given his system interface to notice the system notification, he might not have known he was already in the second round.

Where had Qi Feng and Lan Mo gone?

Gu Wenzhu and Qiu Xi were already familiar with Lan Mo, so they’d intentionally arranged for those two to room with Qi Feng’s other teammates to build camaraderie.

The room was pitch-black and utterly still, meaning he needed to venture out to find his teammates.

Yan Jiyun sprang up to open the hotel room door. Outside, the corridor was as silent as ever.

Why was this phase of the game so silent?

Just as he cracked open the door, there was movement at last.

A blaring “dee-doo-dee-doo” alarm sounded throughout the building. Yan Jiyun quickly clamped his ears with his paws—it was loud, and who knew what sort of stunt the game would pull next.

He had no one to ask.

“What on earth are we supposed to do?”

Yan Jiyun immediately shut his mouth. Could he talk in feline form again?

He remembered, in the black room watching the scenario video, he’d also been able to speak in feline form even without his experience card.

So that was it—this was a special ability granted to him by whoever, or whatever, was behind the game.

He remembered that Teacher Qu had been the first to remark on his ability to speak as a cat. Could he, like David, be someone familiar with him? Had they all known each other?

Did all the NPCs know him subconsciously? Perhaps the answer was close at hand.

No, he still couldn’t believe it. Teacher Qu and David were both NPCs; how could he be one of them? Unless there was another possibility.

Yan Jiyun forced himself to stop dwelling on it, because just then the system began broadcasting the rules in earnest. It seemed the early plaza rules were just the tip of the iceberg for round two.

The system’s voice shifted to a deep, British-tinged butler’s tone, “All players are now awake. The game officially begins.”

“Your chosen grade determines your instance’s difficulty. I look forward to seeing all of you clear the S-tier challenge.”

“This round’s task is quite simple: find your teammates. And let me tell you—some members of your team actually belong to other groups.”

“To be a bit more specific, if player A from Team A goes undercover in Team B and is not discovered by Team A by the end of the game, then Team A wins. If they are found within the time limit, then Team B wins.”

“How well do you really know your teammates? Can you spot the undercover? Now, let the game begin.”

Once Yan Jiyun had finished listening to the rules, he understood: this round was all about testing bonds and trust, a contest of wits and hearts. The real enemy was the players’ own minds.

He gazed down the empty hotel corridor. Not a soul in sight. Where was he supposed to find his teammates?

As he grumbled inwardly, the pitch-black hallway suddenly lit up.

Though the lights dissipated some of the eerie chill that had been building, the empty corridor was still unnerving. Still, as illumination returned, noises began to stir around him—people stepping in and out of elevators up and down the building.

Yan Jiyun realized wherever he’d walked after waking up was where he stood now. Did this mean he’d woken up later than the others, and they’d already been moving about? He checked for his experience card and items—still missing.

So, it was human nature that mattered in this round, not items.

He recalled that the S-grade tower had thirty floors, each with thirty suites, four people per suite—a capacity of nearly 3,600 players. That was about the size of a large high school. In other words, he’d need to pick out his teammates out of thousands of players, all the while knowing that one of them might already have been switched with a player from another team.

But no—everyone got a room number. All he had to do was return to their original rooms.

Yan Jiyun started running back, following his own scent trail, but when he looked up at his former room, he found the doorplate gone. The game had completely blocked off any route of recognition based on returning to one’s base.

If a player had noticed and memorized their room number on arrival, it might have helped, but things were already a mess by now.

Their squad was eleven, three rooms among them.

Another thing that frustrated Yan Jiyun—when he’d come out, he hadn’t closed the door, but now the door was shut tight. Without a keycard, there was no way back in. The game had closed all escape routes for this little kitten.

He heard footsteps coming from the elevators—other players thinking along the same lines. These were S-tier players; anyone choosing S had to be high-level and astute.

As the footsteps drew nearer, Yan Jiyun, not wanting to ruffle the thick carpet, slipped into the fire escape—narrow and dark, a perfect hiding place.

He heard the players getting off the elevator notice that the doors now lacked room numbers.

Among them, one person merely grunted in response; the sound was familiar. Yan Jiyun sifted quickly through his memory, then recalled who it was. Interesting—the game had put a player from Su Qiuming’s team right across from Qi Feng’s team. Was this intentional, judging who had grudges against whom?

While Yan Jiyun mulled this over, someone in Su Qiuming’s group found something odd.

“Ming-ge, I found a discrepancy in the number of rooms on this floor. The first time we came, rooms 1015-1030 were on the left corridor, 1001-1014 on the right—but now it’s 1001-1086. The number of rooms has doubled.”

“Mm. It’s obvious the game has scrambled our understanding.”

“Now how are we supposed to find the rest of our team?”

“Don’t forget the rule about the undercover. The people we meet might not even be members of our own team.”

The three fell silent, each lost in thought, turning the situation over in their minds.

Yan Jiyun was caught off-guard by Su Qiuming’s presence. He remembered, the last time he’d qualified for the summit, players who’d already cleared the S-tier didn’t get pulled back in. So why had the rules changed this time? Was it because the second round now included S-tier?

In the first round of duo mode, most stages depended mainly on the player, not player-versus-player contest. The same was probably true for solo and four-person teams. Thus, by stage two, it became like a dungeon—you could choose higher, more challenging dungeons, or keep to lower ones. S-tier veterans didn’t influence the tournament too much overall.

But players from the top tier were much more shrewd; thus, this game of “find the undercover” would be trickier than he’d thought. Worse, he no longer had his experience card.

He reflected that he’d grown a bit reliant on it.

He should break this dependence on the game, starting with being a cat!

The idea of using room numbers to find teammates was mostly invalid. Many players probably never paid attention to their room numbers—a team of four, one holding the card, the others just tagging along, perhaps only remembering the floor.

Who would be the undercover between his and Qi Feng’s squads?

Yan Jiyun suddenly felt danger approaching.

The footsteps, which should have gone straight to the elevator, paused abruptly outside the fire escape. Top-tier players were this cautious.

Yan Jiyun pressed himself against the wall, trying to hide deep in the shadows. Unfortunately, right above him was a bright lamp, and the door swung wide open—Su Qiuming peered inside.

Smartly, he stood to the side, letting the light fall straight in rather than blocking it—as a precaution against getting kicked in the head by whoever (or whatever) was inside.

Yan Jiyun’s dark fur showed up clearly in the light.

He’d taken every precaution to hide, but was still discovered. Never underestimate the vigilance of a top player.

Su Qiuming hadn’t shown his face in, perhaps worried someone dangerous might be inside.

Instead, he was surprised to see what looked like Qi Feng’s cat.

He squatted in front of Yan Jiyun, his voice far gentler than when he addressed his teammates: “Caramel? You’re Qi Feng’s Caramel?”

Yan Jiyun was an adaptive feline. He knew he couldn’t become human now, and the only person he’d met so far who recognized him was Su Qiuming. Still—he figured it might be smartest to follow him for the time being.

Su Qiuming had no idea “Caramel” was actually a player.

Yan Jiyun strolled up and let out a soft meow, lowering his guard.

Yes, I’m Qi Feng’s Caramel.

“How’d you end up here?” Su Qiuming, perhaps attaching fondness for the owner to his pet, scooped Yan Jiyun up. “You’re heavy—what on earth have they been feeding you?”

Yan Jiyun: …Hey, I’m just sturdy!

No sooner had he grumbled at Su Qiuming than the system hit him with a truly spiteful notification, leaving Yan Jiyun momentarily blinded with frustration.

[Congratulations, player Yan Jiyun, you are now the undercover in Su Qiuming’s squad. Please do your best to protect your identity and stay undercover for at least 30 minutes. The longer you remain undetected, the more points your team will earn, and the higher your rank, the greater your rewards. Protect your undercover status at all costs—don’t let the squad find you out~]

Damn it all—what a ridiculously casual way to be made a mole!

Yan Jiyun mentally rolled his eyes, barely managing to keep his thoughts in check. He could still speak human language if he wanted.

Su Qiuming, seeing the cat droop its ears, couldn’t help but rub his head. “I’ll help you find your owner—don’t worry. We’ll have you back soon.”

Only now did Yan Jiyun glance seriously at his undercover mission: the longer he stayed in the opposing team’s squad, the higher his team’s score. He mulled it over for a second, then decided to set aside any remaining dignity, stretching out a paw to pat Su Qiuming’s chin.

Setting aside the fact that Su Qiuming had failed to rescue Qi Feng in the zombie scenario, he was actually pretty handsome—like a gentle manga protagonist.

An undercover should act the part: “Meow~”