Cat 84: Caesar’s Pursuit

Chapter 84: Caesar’s Pursuit

“I don’t really get this storyline either; never seen it before. Watching the zoo instance is all about seeing players transform into animals—I never thought they could turn into humans, and I’ve never seen a player with a transformation card.”

“A transformation card? I don’t remember the game ever offering one. I’ve watched it for years and never saw that. I just started watching this player’s stream—is his card ‘human-to-cat’?”

“I’m new too, but right from the start, you can see the kitten switches between human and cat.”

“Hehe, I’m a long-time fan of the kitten’s stream now. He first entered the game using his cat form. He didn’t turn human in the first instance at all—it was only from the second that he started doing so.”

“New players don’t get points in their first instance—they can’t use transformation cards. So… isn’t he just a real cat?”

“That’s right; he probably turned human just to blend in with the other players. He’s very smart—almost always pulls off unique endings. Anyway, follow our kitten streamer, you won’t regret it.”

“The kitten must be a real cat. I suspect the system gave him intelligence, so when he turns human, his words and actions are no different from a real person.”

“Wait, aren’t we getting off topic? Weren’t we supposed to discuss Dr. Peng? Does no one know if he’s a villain?”

“Nope.”

“Nope +1.”

“Nope +2.”

Yan Jiyun had no idea, either. He’d been wondering if Dr. Peng would turn on him like Old Man Man or Jiang Meiying, secretly sabotaging his progress—yet things went the opposite direction; suddenly, Dr. Peng was the one who needed protection.

Veterinarians in a zoo are special and vital. A step forward brings prosperity to the zoo; a step back spells ruin for the animals—a path split between two extremes. Naturally, Yan Jiyun hoped Dr. Peng was a “good” NPC; otherwise, he’d have no idea where to even find the main mission in a zoo instance that he’d already turned upside down.

Judging by the system’s current hints, Dr. Peng was the breakthrough, since the zoo’s first crisis centered around him.

Dr. Peng was an important NPC who must be protected—but other players mustn’t realize just how vital he is.

In this instance, different roles could receive different tasks. Today, the wolf player and he were in the same area but had entirely different objectives, so somewhere else there could easily be a player whose task is to kill Dr. Peng. Maybe, through the animals’ eyes, the vet is the villain, while to humans, he’s the heroic NPC.

“Dr. Peng! Wait!” Yan Jiyun shouted. “You can’t just rush in like that—what if they hurt you?”

But Dr. Peng didn’t even hear him, charging straight at the twenty flamingos squabbling in chaos.

One flamingo, thinking Dr. Peng was attacking, flew up and smacked him across the face with its wing, landing square on his nose—blood instantly streaming from his right nostril. Dr. Peng had to hunch down, clutching his nose.

“Ow—these birds are fierce! Last time, they were much gentler.”

Maybe it was that he checked on the flamingos too often; one hit him, and then others came after him again, as if animals were innately resistant to veterinarians.

Yan Jiyun rushed to his aid, pulling him out of the shallows just before the next flamingo could lunge. Even he almost got pecked—these flamingos attacked indiscriminately, pecking anyone who got close.

The two fell back to the safety of the grass. Yan Jiyun asked, “Dr. Peng, are you all right?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Grab me a cotton ball from the kit so I can stop the bleeding—these flamingos are always combative, especially at night.”

Feigning ignorance, Yan Jiyun asked, “Why’s that? All the zoo animals seemed pretty docile by day.”

Dr. Peng shrugged. “I don’t really know why. For the last couple of months, once night falls, the animals become irritable. That’s why the zoo needs keepers and vets on night duty—to care for animals who get hurt fighting. Stranger still, at night the animals break out of exhibits themselves, only to return to their enclosures before dawn as if nothing happened—aside from injuries, nothing changes.”

Yan Jiyun passed Dr. Peng the cotton ball from the big medical box to help stop the nosebleed.

While Dr. Peng tilted his head back, Yan Jiyun peeked inside the kit—found basic animal meds, emergency veterinary tools, everything needed for treating animals. Dr. Peng clearly meant well. But why did animals get especially violent at night?

The system hadn’t revealed details about the first crisis in the zoo, but it almost certainly related to this violent night behavior—that meant he had to get to the bottom of it.

Why did the animals turn aggressive at such a specific time? Was it human-caused, or environmental?

All questions he needed to answer.

Vets knew most about animal habits and conditions—Dr. Peng was the NPC best positioned to know.

But in all his words and actions so far, Dr. Peng didn’t seem to understand the cause at all.

“Why doesn’t the zoo form a research team to study this?” Yan Jiyun asked. He’d seen the zoo’s financials—all seemingly normal; unless there were two accounting books, one for outsiders and one connected to the crisis. He’d need another look at the admin area—he hadn’t seen the office of any managers yet.

Dr. Peng patted his shoulder. “You’re still young. In the zoo, the animals and the people running it all have their own societies—unless there’s an animal death, management won’t pay it much mind.”

Realizing he’d let too much slip, Dr. Peng just smiled and said no more.

Yan Jiyun understood: management completely ignored the issue.

If it truly had only just started a couple months ago, it could be blamed on weather—heat, cold—animals are far more sensitive than humans. In real life, that might be plausible, but in an instance copy, he could rule it out immediately.

Back to the core problem—he needed to resolve the first crisis.

Yan Jiyun asked, “If the animals stay like this—agitated—will it get worse? Will it affect their health?”

Dr. Peng nodded instantly. “Absolutely. Think about it—if people are constantly irritable, their mental state falls apart; eventually, they go mad, or worse. No one can stay angry all the time—least of all animals.”

“Is it all animals?” Yan Jiyun asked.

“Smaller animals cope better; the larger they are, the worse the effects. Some start self-mutilating, others turn on each other. Any disaster can happen. So be on guard around any animal we visit tonight.” Dr. Peng finished stemming the blood and sighed at the flamingos. “They’re actually not so bad compared to the rest.”

“How do you ease this problem?” asked Yan Jiyun.

Dr. Peng shook his head, regretful. “No ideal solution yet.”

Yan Jiyun suggested, “Spray them with water? Cool them down, get them to snap out of it?”

“We’ve tried. It helps for a few minutes, but then the agitation returns. Not effective.”

As they puzzled over solutions, Yan Jiyun suddenly looked up. The fighting flock of flamingos abruptly began stampeding toward them, about to crash right into them. Reacting fast, Yan Jiyun yanked Dr. Peng away from potential mauling.

“Dr. Peng, run!”

Dr. Peng scrambled after him, never letting go of his kit.

As they ran, he called back, “Xiao Jiang, flamingos don’t attack us; there’s no need to run, surely?”

Yan Jiyun threw him a glare. “They just made you bleed.”

Dr. Peng fell silent—he couldn’t argue with that.

Then Yan Jiyun noticed something else: some flamingos were now gliding low, others doubling back to the lake. But his most urgent discovery was a large animal lurking near the lake, hurtling toward them!

His task was to protect Dr. Peng—the best result would be for him to stay alive.

The system failed to say for how long. If it meant all shift, would he need to keep Dr. Peng by his side until dawn?

“Dr. Peng! There’s a big animal charging at us!”

Dr. Peng was more shocked than he was. “What? Large animals don’t usually come to the lake!”

Yan Jiyun: …

Well, could it be a large animal player? Maybe not—Dr. Peng had just said agitated animals exhibited any kind of behavior—who could say if something that hated water suddenly wanted a swim?

Tiger? Lion? Leopard? Or something else?

Any big cat spelled doom; two-legged people couldn’t outpace four-legged predators.

Yan Jiyun’s headache worsened—he had to flee and keep Dr. Peng safe at the same time.

But Dr. Peng, used to tussling with unwilling animal patients, could still run hard—panting, he glanced back at Yan Jiyun.

He still doubted Yan Jiyun’s warning. “I don’t see any large animal chasing us.”

“Trust me—keep running!” Yan Jiyun said.

Even as the words left him, a thrashing noise erupted from the dark brush, sending the flamingos into higher flight.

The sound convinced Dr. Peng. “W-wait—maybe there is something!”

There was more crashing amid the bushes.

With his sharp night vision, Yan Jiyun made out a head in the trees—a lion.

When the lion saw Yan Jiyun looking, it roared—a thunderous sound that seemed to shake the earth.

This was it; it looked like he wouldn’t be getting out alive. This lion was no pushover.

Dr. Peng was pale, whether from running or fear of that roar he couldn’t tell.

Yan Jiyun had never visited the lion enclosure, didn’t know the animals’ temperaments.

“Dr. Peng, that’s a lion. What’s it like?” Yan Jiyun asked.

“That’s Caesar!” Dr. Peng replied. “He’s the ill-tempered one—I have no idea what he’s doing here!”

“How’s your relationship with him?” Yan Jiyun pressed further.

“Not great—none of the animals in the zoo like the vet. I’m their least favorite, by far!”

Yan Jiyun: … That was not an outcome he’d planned for—the least-liked vet?

A keeper that animals dislike, and a fake keeper—how could they possibly escape a lion’s jaws?

Unstable lions meant dangerous, biting lions—they couldn’t possibly fight off a beast this size.

Caesar kept in pursuit—they’d need a diversion.

Yan Jiyun told Dr. Peng, “Dr. Peng, get out of here—I’ll draw it off. Whatever you do, if you can’t win, run!”

Dr. Peng’s survival was absolutely key for him!

Worried, Dr. Peng asked, “But what about you?”

“I’m a keeper—I know how to handle it. Go! Now!”

Dr. Peng believed him and quickly explained where he would go hide. “There’s a staff rest area ahead! I’ll shelter there—come find me later!”

Yan Jiyun nodded. “Good—look after yourself.” He could indeed draw Caesar away, though it wasn’t a great plan.

Next moment, Dr. Peng was gone.

If they just kept running, the lion would keep chasing. For now, Caesar seemed more playful—perhaps teasing its chosen prey.

Realizing he was being toyed with, Yan Jiyun’s spirits dropped yet again.

He had no tricks to tame a lion—he was no real keeper. All he could do was run off in the opposite direction.

This was the aviary—a densely wooded area. Lions were creatures of the plains, so this was unfamiliar terrain; the zoo’s enrichment for them was prairie-like. Amid trees, it would be harder to corner him.

Yet as a human, Yan Jiyun could never outrun a lion.

Slipping into the woods, Yan Jiyun caught the lion’s attention—it bounded after him, eager and excited.

Remembering Old Man Man’s fate, Yan Jiyun wondered whether someone was poisoning the animals—two months in a row. If so, it had to be someone staff—an enemy of management, or with a special agenda.

“Roar!”

Caesar’s roar drew closer, Yan Jiyun ducked behind a tree in case of a pounce.

As Caesar watched him, he watched Caesar too—a mutual standoff.

Caesar seemed to sense that Yan Jiyun was different from other keepers; he was neither panicked nor terrified, so the lion showed less aggression.

Judging by Caesar’s build, he was an adult male lion—huge, powerful, a splendid animal. As a human, Yan Jiyun almost wanted to pet him!

A shame that he was now Caesar’s prey.

Concealed behind the tree, he used his experience card.

Sensing the presence of a small animal, Caesar immediately charged his way. Yan Jiyun hurried up a tall-branched tree, his black form melting into the shadow.

Still, this was a zoo—apart from birds and the less scent-sensitive animals, anything with a keen nose could find him.

But as a cat, his odds increased for climbing—even though he couldn’t outrun a lion, he could easily outclimb one. If he lured Caesar up, he could quickly slip down and escape; a lion’s descent was much slower—he’d be gone before Caesar could follow.

Yan Jiyun climbed two branches higher, deliberately tempting Caesar up.

Caesar leapt and gripped the trunk, cunningly refusing to climb higher; instead, he dropped down, circled, and then rammed the trunk, shaking the branches violently.

The ploy failed. Hugging the branch with all four paws, Yan Jiyun clung on—no matter how the lion shook the tree, he wouldn’t budge.

“Roar!”

Caesar was getting truly riled—just as Dr. Peng had said, the worst-tempered of the bunch.

He tried roaring Yan Jiyun down, but it didn’t work. Yan Jiyun simply remained motionless and silent, locked in a contest of patience and composure.

Having confirmed Caesar wasn’t going to climb, Yan Jiyun was now certain he wasn’t a player; otherwise, he’d never chase a keeper and a vet so persistently. Caesar, clearly recognizing the vet, must have been after revenge—or grievances—but ended up tricked away by a “fake” keeper, letting the vet escape.

“Roar!”

Caesar resumed battering the tree. Who cared if a two-legged creature suddenly transformed into a black thing—it didn’t stop his fury.

Perched above, half rocked by the shaking, Yan Jiyun had time to consider other things.

All players, after hours, were no longer constrained by rules. If Caesar could escape his area, so could other animals—and that meant players too. The entire zoo was open for animals and players to roam and seek clues freely.

No wonder those keepers always doubted he’d survive the night—their violence unleashed, animals were as likely to attack staff as each other. If even the flamingos pecked anything near, the rest couldn’t be counted on to act friendly toward a keeper.

Lost in speculation about other players’ tasks, Yan Jiyun heard a sharp crack below.

He’d thought this tree solid, but it wasn’t!

Caesar, for all his bad temper, was smart—seeing the tree give, he redoubled his assault, shaking Yan Jiyun to his core.

Damn! He’d hoped to lure Caesar to climb, but the tree was too fragile—if it toppled, he’d be lion food.

Yan Jiyun scanned for another tree within jumping distance.

Crack!

The trunk bent closer to the ground—heartsick, Yan Jiyun watched as Caesar prepared the final blow.

He had to think fast or share the fate of Jiang Meiying’s squashed pet… he had no wish to be a paper-thin cat!

Caesar battered the trunk again, surely knowing the prey would soon drop.

The tree now tilted at sixty degrees—one more ram, and Yan Jiyun would be forced down.

Abruptly, Yan Jiyun bared his teeth at Caesar in a feline threat, crouching tightly and digging his hindlegs into the branch for purchase.

Caesar paused, surprised by a prey animal challenging him; he crouched low and rumbled back.

With Caesar stilled, Yan Jiyun leapt for the next tree!

Caesar was dumbstruck, then lunged to intercept—the little thing intended to escape!

Yan Jiyun had gauged the leap; just barely gripping a twig, though he was still at risk of falling.

Caesar reared and swiped with huge paws, but the target was high—he missed—and resumed battering the new tree.

Yan Jiyun groaned in frustration. Why was this lion so damn clever? Were all the zoo’s animals selected for intelligence?

Thank goodness his own “shovel officer” had given him thorough training—he scrambled toward the trunk, relying on his arms for balance, and spotted another branch nearby.

He braced for a jump; Caesar slammed the tree again!

The lion was tricky, too: although he battered the tree non-stop, he never lost track of his quarry.

Why was Caesar so dogged? Was life as a lion that boring?

Yan Jiyun quit baring his teeth, focused on angle and distance—his owner had taught him to run across wobbling water balls; at least Caesar’s shaking was tamer.

This leap spanned a bigger gap—Yan Jiyun readied himself, certain he could make it.

With a running start, he jumped!

At the critical moment, Caesar struck the tree again—Yan Jiyun’s paws hit mostly air, just brushing the leaves.

Damn!

He plummeted, bouncing off the lower branches—no chance to grab hold, everything whirling by too fast.

Fortunately, two twigs broke his fall, and his instincts took over: he twisted midair and landed on all fours, safe—pure reflex!

Still, he dived immediately into a thicket.

Caesar wasn’t about to let such a prize go; surprised by the speed, he was a hair too slow, but gave chase hot on his heels.

Enthusiastic, Caesar dove into the brush—prey shaken loose at last, a triumph!

All Yan Jiyun could do was run—run as if his life depended on it. Against Caesar’s senses, he was practically naked—nothing blocked Caesar’s ears or nose.

Being a keeper was hard; being a cat was harder!

Yan Jiyun ran, Caesar close behind, trampling flowers—matching him move for move.

Until at last he was cornered by a zoo’s high wall—he tried to climb, but it was slicker than Monkey Hill’s stones; even claws couldn’t find a grip.

He was finished—Caesar was right there!

Yan Jiyun didn’t threaten or challenge this time, just braced himself to bolt if needed.

Caesar slowed, stopping five meters away—perfect pouncing range. He crouched, hind legs coiled, ready to spring at any moment.

Yan Jiyun tensed every muscle. Desperate, he sent out a feline distress call for help from other big cats.

“Meow~”

“Meow~”

“Meow~”

Caesar hesitated, uncertain whether to kill the little black cat, then waited, watching for a few seconds. Suddenly, his hind legs tensed, and he lunged straight at the cornered Yan Jiyun!