Cat 294: I’m Your Daddy!

Chapter 294 I’m Your Daddy!

Now that Yan Jiyun had found Su Qiuming as a backer, a new question arose: how to play this game at all? The perfect gaming console.

Only eight minutes remained. Several players who struggled with the controls had already been knocked out by others. The rest, now more adept, were quickly honing their skills in this survival contest.

Losing his carousel meant Yan Jiyun’s group attack skill vanished as well—an unfortunate turn.

But he didn’t dare grow complacent just because he could lean on Su Qiuming now. If anything, this was the moment to be more cautious than ever.

So, others saw a black cat’s head poking out from behind Su Qiuming, its two paws hooked over his shoulders. To those in the know, it was clearly a survival horror game; but to outsiders, it might look like some event where you could bring a pet.

[Want to Be Human] Live Room:

“HAHAHAHA, this kitten is killing me! How does he manage to exist in a totally different vibe while everyone else is desperately controlling their carousel? It’s so dissonant and funny, and also satirical.”

“So adorable! I’m dying from the cuteness! I was so nervous when he was leaping around on the carousel, now it’s hilarious. My heart rate is entirely in this kitten’s tiny paws—such a little tormentor.”

“Carousel plus bumper cars—how are you supposed to play this?! Are the skills just flying around? The game gave players no warning at all, it’s so hard.”

“Hard or not, what does it have to do with the kitten? His carousel’s gone, which means no skills. What now, just cling to Su Qiuming all the way?”

“The kitten can’t switch forms now—he can only rely on Qi Feng or Su Qiuming.”

“Am I the only one who thinks this kitten is crazy brave? He has no way to protect himself, yet dares to perch right behind another player. What if someone attacks Su Qiuming and the kitten loses his grip? He really ought to go back to his owner’s arms—at least that’s safe. Damn, I’m so worried; kitten, you’d better make it out alive for me!”

“To be honest, I’ve been anxious every time the kitten enters a game—so conflicted. I want to see his wild maneuvers, but I’m scared he’ll get himself killed. Is that the fan mentality? Has this kitten completely conquered my mind?”

“Whatever else—I just love this kitten~”

Yan Jiyun observed every movement of the surrounding players. His field of vision, wider than a human’s, let him track much more—he knew exactly who was doing what around him.

In Su Qiuming’s team, besides Yangzai, there was also a vice-captain named Ahu—Yangzai was powerful and trusted, while Ahu was a massive man, two meters tall, broad as a bear.

The two steered their carousels alongside Su Qiuming. “What’s our next move?”

When the boss was around, they followed his lead. The former guild leader, Xu Xian, had lost himself in the glamour of his title, then lost his life in the Sweet Christmas dungeon. If only he’d been low-key and worked on his skills, he might not have died. The guild regretted his passing, but not deeply.

Yangzai and Ahu had once asked Su Qiuming why Xu Xian was made guild leader, but Su Qiuming only said, “You’ll understand later.” Over time, people stopped asking. After Xu Xian’s departure, Yangzai and Ahu led a round of reorganization, and now the Fenghuo guild was much more united.

Ahu was an old guild member. When Qi Feng and Su Qiuming fell out, he remained. He was emotionally inclined toward Su Qiuming, convinced that Su Qiuming wasn’t the type to turn against Qi Feng, though lacking the reasoning to see beyond that. Another reason: after leaving, Qi Feng had become clearly separate from the guild, a free player.

Su Qiuming quickly devised a strategy. “Ahu, Yangzai, arrange the formation. Anyone with attack skills, up front—group or individual, both work. Defense skills, hang back and protect the others.”

The team organized itself with smooth precision. Yan Jiyun, always a solo operator, had never seen guild cooperation up close. The contrast was striking—working with a guild really was different, but then, they had the benefit of long practice together.

Due to his special status, Yan Jiyun couldn’t take part, but Qi Feng could organize his team in the same way.

As he watched Su Qiuming’s arrangements, Qi Feng was also setting his own formation. Their situation was a bit tougher; players had begun targeting Qi Feng’s team with attacks. They were undermanned and had a mole, the fake “Yan Jiyun,” whose skill could be used against his own team. No telling what method Qi Feng would use to handle this. Just seeing someone wearing his own face at Qi Feng’s side was infuriating.

Su Qiuming’s team was already in formation when a twenty-man squad attacked them. The three frontmost members suddenly froze, paralyzed, forcing their teammates to jump in and steady them—otherwise, they might have fallen off, their fate unknown.

Yangzai, wielding a group control skill, barked, “A bunch of little punks, how dare you attack your grandpa! Let’s go! I’m activating my skill—fifteen seconds of control!”

Ten teammates rushed forward on their carousels, making it both an epic and bizarre sight—epic from the team battle, bizarre because they were charging on carousel horses.

Yan Jiyun kept one eye on the unfolding action, the other on Qi Feng’s undercover.

He discovered that airborne skills glowed with colors matching the carousel horses:

White: individual attack skills;

Black: group attack skills;

Blue: individual defense skills;

Red: group defense skills;

Purple: single control skills;

Orange: group control skills.

Yan Jiyun couldn’t get on the field, but he could see through the use of skills. Qi Feng’s team had only ten members—ten skills. Targeted by other players, the mole began his treachery, steering his horse to ram into Qi Feng, who was busy directing his team forward.

Sensing disaster, Yan Jiyun yowled frantically in Qi Feng’s direction.

“Meow meow meow!!!”

“Meow meow meow!!!”

“Meow meow meow!!!”

Qi Feng wasn’t startled, but his sudden outburst nearly shattered Su Qiuming’s eardrum.

“I only just realized—cat yowling is so loud.”

Yan Jiyun dug his claws into Su Qiuming’s shoulder. Loud? You’re loud!

“It was just a comment. This cat’s got a real temper—stop scratching, or I’ll bill your owner for medical bills.” Su Qiuming spoke over his shoulder to Yan Jiyun.

Yan Jiyun heard clearly. In worrying about Qi Feng, he’d let his emotions slip—dangerous, since it might blow his cover as a mole.

Still, he noticed Su Qiuming’s attitude was clear: he wasn’t trying to claim the cat, continuing to regard him as Qi Feng’s. This prompted Yan Jiyun to reconsider the relationship between Su Qiuming and Qi Feng. If Su Qiuming was a pure opportunist, he’d have no reason to fight over a mere cat.

Every unknown in a dungeon meant new risks. Was Su Qiuming arrogant or scheming, or did he have another motive—like helping Qi Feng bear a burden? Of course, Yan Jiyun didn’t think he was a burden, but Su Qiuming didn’t know that. Maybe, in his own way, Su Qiuming was trying to help his old friend?

Would Qi Feng even realize it?

Why would Su Qiuming secretly assist Qi Feng—was it guilt, or some deeper secret?

Yan Jiyun had seen their stint in the zombie dungeon—he remembered their impressive teamwork. The moment Qi Feng was bitten had been surprisingly abrupt, and Su Qiuming’s sudden blackout odd as well. In hindsight, the whole thing seemed suspicious. Was it possible their falling out had never been real?

Clearly, he needed an honest talk with Qi Feng; not doing so would just cause more delays.

Of course, he hadn’t revealed himself for long, so some loose ends were only natural. For now, he’d keep observing Su Qiuming’s character while undercover.

Whatever the truth, the matter was set aside.

Yan Jiyun’s loud yowling had reminded Qi Feng to look back. The fake “Yan Jiyun” seized the moment to pretend he was moving up to help, warmly asking if Qi Feng needed a hand.

Still, Qi Feng refrained from eliminating him—if he moved now, the real Yan Jiyun would be exposed, and the cat’s connection to Yan Jiyun made that a critical risk.

Yet, inwardly, he was grateful for the well-timed warning—any meow, no matter how it sounded, brought him reassurance.

Perhaps bolstered by someone watching out for him, Qi Feng widened the gap between himself and the imposter, shuffling him to the front lines. The key now was a quick, savage assault to clear the field and take first place—a way to reward Yan Jiyun’s perilous intervention.

The fake “Yan Jiyun” had a single-target control skill. He forced a smile. “Brother Feng, is it okay for me to be in the front?”

Qi Feng shut him up: “Usually you’re first into every fight, so this shouldn’t be a problem. But since you asked, come stand behind me. I’ll protect you.”

If the fake “Yan Jiyun” pushed to the rear, he’d be exposed immediately. Who’d have thought the imposter would be so eager to take one for the team—stupid to the core.

Watching Qi Feng interact with his copy, Yan Jiyun almost burst out laughing. Qi Feng was slick—he tossed the mole right into the line of fire, cleanly and without a hint of malice.

Even the teammates were momentarily thrown, before realizing what was happening. With how fiercely protective Qi Feng was of the real Yan Jiyun, there was no way he’d send him to the front as cannon fodder.

Even slow-witted Lan Mo finally got it: their “Yan Jiyun” was a fake—otherwise Caramel would be glued to him, not snuggling up to their archrival Su Qiuming!

That heartless little thing!

Yan Jiyun’s nose started to itch—he stifled a sneeze.

Su Qiuming: “Even cats sneeze?”

Yan Jiyun: “…” His paws began to itch as well.

By now, the carousel battle had reached a fever pitch. At first, everyone picked their targets, but after several misplaced skills caused friendly fire, things grew ever more fierce.

Yan Jiyun dared not run around now—he clung tightly to Su Qiuming’s back. Seven minutes of his undercover timer remained, just as the current battle hit its hottest phase. The perfect gaming console.

Only half the players remained!

Su Qiuming’s and Qi Feng’s teams were both intact, each holding defensive tactics, refraining from firing off attack skills to stay under the radar.

Under Yan Jiyun’s anxious gaze, Qi Feng and Gu Wenzhu fought harder and harder, and Su Qiuming’s side took down two groups.

Unnoticed, only three teams remained on the field.

The Purple Team: every player’s hair was dyed purple, as if afraid they’d go unrecognized—certainly a striking sight.

Su Qiuming’s team had lost three players to spent skills and elimination—it wasn’t clear if those removed left only the minigame or the larger game as a whole.

Qi Feng’s team was still at full strength, with the ever-meddling fake “Yan Jiyun” still in place.

Yan Jiyun fervently hoped Qi Feng and his team would survive unscathed.

Then, Su Qiuming scooped Yan Jiyun from his back to his front, turning to Qi Feng: “Care to work together?”

Yan Jiyun instantly felt like a hostage, Su Qiuming using him as leverage to force Qi Feng’s cooperation.

Qi Feng, his expression unreadable, acted as if he hadn’t even noticed the sight of Yan Jiyun clinging to the carousel horse. “Fine,” he said.

Su Qiuming looked down and addressed the black cat, sighing, “You know, this is the first time your dad and I have cooperated in three years. Caramel darling, you’re really useful.”

Yan Jiyun raged inwardly, his tail lashing furiously against Su Qiuming’s waist.

First, stop randomly assigning people as my elders!

Second, only Qi Feng is allowed to call me “darling”!

Third, I’m your daddy!