Chapter Index

    Chapter 86: The Perilous Road

    [Want to Be Human] Livestream Chatroom:

    “Who would’ve thought? Dr. Peng is so quick. The cat cub has barely rested, and a new mission’s been assigned to him.”

    “But doesn’t that just prove something? Dr. Peng is the only person at the zoo who’s truly prepared. He’s clearly the protagonist of the zoo storyline. My cub is amazing—whenever he enters a scenario, he meets the main character.”

    “Not necessarily, though. What if Dr. Peng isn’t the protagonist? That would be quite embarrassing. Besides, he doesn’t look like a protagonist. In the two scenarios our cat cub has been through, the main characters were all quite handsome. Dr. Peng doesn’t quite measure up in terms of looks.”

    “To the sister above, even if Dr. Peng isn’t as good-looking, he really seems to have protagonist’s luck.”

    “Don’t forget this is a beginner-level scenario. It’s entirely possible for the protagonist to appear late. I don’t think Dr. Peng is the main character—he doesn’t seem very smart.”

    “Exactly! I don’t have high expectations for the protagonist’s looks, but his intelligence definitely can’t be low. It’s only the first day, and Dr. Peng has already almost gotten himself killed a few times. I just don’t see him being the protagonist. By the way, can any high-level player give us a spoiler—is Dr. Peng actually the protagonist?”

    “To tell the truth, apparently no one knows yet that players can become human, and the path he’s taking is extraordinary.”

    “Why do I feel proud? The cat cub I follow is just built differently. I bask in his glory.”

    As Yan Jiyun received the mission, he was about to say something, only to see Dr. Peng looking at him with hopeful eyes—and whatever he was going to say, he swallowed.

    Dr. Peng really cared for the animals at the zoo. He was willing to risk his life to get the elephant’s blood.

    Yan Jiyun still asked, “Dr. Peng, why don’t you draw the elephant’s blood during the day?”

    Dr. Peng was still out of breath. “I tried, but whenever I checked the blood during the day, all the values came back normal. It’s at night that something goes wrong. That’s why I thought to draw the blood at night. If possible, I’d like to get samples from all the animals, so I can figure out what’s really wrong.”

    Yan Jiyun’s doubt was answered, and he set his sights on the black panther. “Dr. Peng, do you still have your tools? The black panther is right here—I think you might want to try collecting a sample from it as well.”

    Dr. Peng thought he’d misheard. He looked around, his whole body tense.

    “There—there’s a black panther here?” His voice was taut with nerves.

    Yan Jiyun nodded. “Yes, but you don’t need to be afraid. Right now, the black panther won’t hurt anyone.”

    He could see Dr. Peng was nervous, but pressed on, “It’s not in an agitated state, is it?”

    Yan Jiyun couldn’t tell Dr. Peng he’d been mistaken for the panther’s kind, so he simply said, “Maybe a little agitated, but I think you can try— it probably won’t resist.” He gave the black panther a guarantee on its behalf, just hoping it wouldn’t embarrass him later.

    Dr. Peng’s expression shifted from fear to delight. “That’s wonderful! You’re the best keeper I’ve ever met. You don’t know— the black panther is the rarest animal in our zoo. Last time I saw it, the director was the one to bring it in.”

    Yan Jiyun was curious about the black panther’s origins and caught a crucial word. “The director?”

    Dr. Peng replied, “Yes. My medical kit is just ahead. I’ll go fetch it so I can take the panther’s blood.”

    The director seemed to be a mysterious figure too. Up to now, he’d only ever heard his supervisor mention the vice-director, never the director. Both were mysterious—neither had ever appeared.

    Yan Jiyun, thinking that Dr. Peng had just given him a mission, knew he needed to get this tube of blood into the lab for storage.

    He gazed at the panther hidden in the dark and walked up to it. “Soy Sauce, I need to trouble you to protect Dr. Peng and let him take a tube of your blood.”

    To resolve the problem of animal agitation, more samples would be needed. Since Soy Sauce listened to him, he hoped the panther could be persuaded to give up one more sample.

    The panther glanced once at Yan Jiyun, then crouched to the ground, unmoving.

    By this time, Dr. Peng had caught his breath. He told Yan Jiyun, “Little Jiang, I’ll have to trouble you. I’ll retrieve my medical kit, then look for the other animals and collect their samples.”

    With that, the two parted ways.

    The pursuing elephant, having lost its target, had already taken another path, its destination unknown.

    Yan Jiyun suspected he wouldn’t be able to persuade the panther to donate blood for Dr. Peng, but he at least hoped the panther would protect him.

    He negotiated again with the panther. “If you don’t want to be drawn, just protect him for me. I’ll come find you once I’ve delivered this blood.”

    Soy Sauce snorted and immediately followed Dr. Peng, who had already disappeared into the woods.

    Yan Jiyun called after it, “Tsk, so you do understand. Clever boy.”

    Time was running out, so he set out at a run toward the Animal Medical Center.

    The medical center was essentially at the heart of the zoo—no matter where a problem occurred, injured animals could be brought there by the shortest route.

    Yan Jiyun was currently in the Fun World area, near the edge. With no electric cart, he would have to go on foot. Twenty minutes might not be enough.

    This scenario was just torturous—every mission was timed. This particular mission even tied into the main quest. These blood samples might be the key to resolving the zoo’s first crisis.

    Once night fell completely, more and more animals began to emerge from various exhibits.

    As he ran, Yan Jiyun saw animals that were usually calm fighting each other, some battling until bloody, others howling in agony.

    In such chaos, sticking together was the wisest choice; a lone traveler was easy prey for the mobs.

    Worse, larger animals were outright eating the smaller ones.

    Yan Jiyun saw the utter disorder and realized just how hard it would be to survive the night. He didn’t dare reveal himself to the animals and felt a chill in his heart.

    No wonder Dr. Peng would rather risk his life to find animals for blood draws than deliver samples to the lab—he knew the return trip was perilous, especially if one wanted to avoid detection.

    Yan Jiyun knew he couldn’t stay hidden forever—some routes were unavoidable, and many of the animals were savage. He would have to find a way to evade them.

    Even transforming back into a cat wouldn’t necessarily guarantee reaching his destination. Cats couldn’t carry things easily; as a human, it would still be more convenient to get there.

    [“Dr. Peng’s Request” Mission Countdown: 18 minutes, 49 seconds]

    Another issue occurred to Yan Jiyun: if the zoo’s animals kept escaping and fighting every night—some being eaten, others dying in brawls—wouldn’t there be very few animals left by the next morning? If the star animals didn’t appear, wouldn’t that mean a sharp drop in visitors?

    He understood then.

    The current visitors, after all, were here for the players. Any animals that died overnight simply stayed dead, and whether new ones would arrive in the morning was unknown. Tonight’s riot would definitely reduce their numbers. So the system’s animal celebrity ranking was a way to attract attention to those animals.

    Whether riots would happen every night remained unclear. This was the first night of five; if it recurred every night, by the last night there would be no animals left and no clues to follow. So, on this first night, it was essential to assist Dr. Peng in collecting blood samples.

    Another thing—players were in just as much danger, since they, too, were animals.

    Just then, Yan Jiyun hid behind two stone monkey statues making heart shapes. He needed to cross an eight-meter-wide road now watched over by tense animals; if he made a sound while running out, death would be almost certain.

    Both groups blocking the way were wolf packs—packs that Yan Jiyun had dealt with before.

    On the left side, a team led by the alpha pair; on the right, a team led by the wolf player.

    Both sides were agitated, baring fangs and issuing low warning growls.

    Yan Jiyun recognized the wolf player, who now stood at the center of the left pack, issuing commands.

    His eyes were clear; by contrast, the wolf packs around him—including the alpha pair—had bloody red eyes. Their agitation was more severe than that of the leopards or tigers.

    So, players weren’t affected by the animal riots; only the zoo’s animals became violent.

    Dr. Peng was collecting their blood, and once he had the data, the problem could be resolved.

    The alpha pair and the wolf player—one human, one true wolf; it was obvious which had greater cunning. The wolf player had already demonstrated his skill, and the alpha pair would likely lose. If they were defeated, the wolf player would kill them, leaving the wolf pup orphaned.

    Yan Jiyun didn’t want to see that happen.

    But why did the wolf player want to become the alpha? Did it matter so much?

    If he became alpha, he could control the entire pack—then what?

    Yan Jiyun remembered that when he’d tried to save the wolf pup, the wolf player had tried to kill it. Because of the scenario rules, the wolf player couldn’t kill caregivers himself, only direct the pack to attack.

    Still, controlling the whole pack was indeed a survival tactic—only by rising above the others could he complete the system’s tasks.

    Yan Jiyun stopped worrying about the wolf player’s motives. Ultimately, all players sought the same thing—complete the mission, gain points, and leave the game.

    The alpha pair was soon besieged.

    Yan Jiyun’s sympathies were with the alpha pair. After all, he’d rescued the cub, and he had no real liking for the wolf player. Of course, he’d prefer the conflict to be resolved peacefully.

    In numbers, the alpha’s group was outmatched.

    With things so chaotic, the alphas had no hope of fleeing. They would be bitten to death by the smaller teams under the wolf player’s lead.

    Yan Jiyun admired the wolf player’s ability to stir up discord as a wolf—he was clearly an exceptionally clever player, mastering the species’ instincts in a short time.

    But for now, the most pressing question was: How long would this fight last, and how could he get across?

    Yan Jiyun had to cross the eight-meter road and then rush over a bridge to continue on to the medical center.

    On either side of the bridge lay a vast man-made lake. There were no other bridges; this was the only way across.

    After six, rules were lifted; players were no longer prevented from attacking the keepers.

    The wolf player would certainly assume he and the alphas were in league. If Yan Jiyun ran out, the wolf player would attack him immediately, no doubt. He had interfered with the wolf player’s attempt to kill the cub, and to many jaded players, killing an NPC was no big deal—they only cared if an NPC could be beaten or not.

    He had learned all this from the days spent listening to his “pooper scooper” (caretaker), and from overheard player conversations in Central City: The further one got into advanced scenarios, the more jaded players became; those who sympathized with NPCs would be laughed at. But after the livestream system started, viewers didn’t want to see players abuse NPCs—rather, they liked seeing players abused by NPC villain bosses. So, players rarely targeted ordinary NPCs—it was pointless and unrewarding.

    Yan Jiyun didn’t know which kind of player the wolf player was, but caution was safest. If he was emotionally unstable or wanted to vent on an NPC, Yan Jiyun would be out of luck—after all, in the wolf player’s eyes, he was just a zookeeper NPC.

    Time was running out; he had to come up with a solution.

    The wolf player split the wolves into two groups and separated the alpha pair, defeating them one by one, breaking their synergy.

    Yan Jiyun knew the alphas’ teamwork gave them strength greater than the sum of their parts, but divided, their power dropped.

    Things were going the wolf player’s way. If he won, he would rule the wolf area.

    But there was nothing Yan Jiyun could do but fret in hiding.

    He glanced at his experience card—he’d have to use it. Before activating it, he took off his bag and hid it, tying the tube of blood with a strip of cloth so he could carry it in his mouth as he crossed.

    As long as he stayed clear of the fighting, the wolves shouldn’t notice him.

    Battles like these could go on; he might finish his mission before they were done.

    Yan Jiyun hid all his gear, then transformed back into a cat, clutching the tube wrapped carefully in a scrap of gauze, and crept into the underbrush, his eyes fixed on the melee. He’d have to circle around behind the wolf player’s group.

    As a human, he was too conspicuous; as a cat, he was nearly invisible. If he slipped across quickly, the wolf player wouldn’t notice a black cat. Most importantly, he was dark enough, and with the sky so dim, they probably wouldn’t see him at all.

    Now he just had to find the right moment to dash across!

    The wolf player was tackled by an alpha’s subordinate—distracted in a scuffle, all his attention was on biting back. The wolf player was more wolf than the wolves—brutal and ruthless.

    Yan Jiyun immediately slipped out behind the fighting pack. The chaos of the wolf brawl, the deepening night, and the lack of streetlights all favored him—as long as no wolf noticed him, he could get across.

    Two wolves tumbled at his feet—he leapt left!

    Two more wolves snarled in his path but didn’t fight, so he bounced right!

    It seemed he’d been seen!

    Yan Jiyun fixed his sights and dashed at full speed for the bridge ahead.

    He leapt over one wolf after another, all his focus on getting through.

    Usually, two strides would cover eight meters; now, he had to zigzag between obstacles!

    But even then, at the last two meters, he found seven or eight wolves blocking the bridge.

    Taking advantage of their divided attention, he leaped on the spot—narrowly made it! By the time the wolves noticed a black blur flashing past, Yan Jiyun had already dashed over the bridge with the sample.

    Phew!

    He’d made it.

    But he’d barely had time to celebrate when another battle unfolded ahead!

    Two huge crocodiles, each four meters long, jaws easily able to swallow four or five cats his size.

    Crocodiles launched surprise attacks from the water, and Yan Jiyun dared not rush forward, fearing they’d abandon fighting their own kind and just gulp him down.

    Another wait—another chance needed.

    The two crocodiles were locked in a standoff instead of actually biting, staring unmoving at each other.

    Yan Jiyun scouted left and right, then lightly sprang onto the bridge railing. Crocodiles had keen senses—he dared not make a sound.

    He truly wanted to scream for help—why were there only terrifying giant creatures around?

    He hoped not every night would be like this—or he’d lose his mind.

    Crocodiles could outrun humans on land and had brutal strength; they didn’t fear cats, had excellent senses, and fast reflexes.

    The wolves’ battle was moving, but the crocodiles just opened jaws at each other, unmoving.

    Why couldn’t they fight in the water?

    Yan Jiyun watched his mission time tick away.

    [“Dr. Peng’s Request” Mission Countdown: 15 minutes, 40 seconds]

    [Human Experience Card Remaining Time: 3 minutes, 40 seconds]

    He needed to get away before the card expired.

    He kept scanning his surroundings. If he jumped off the bridge, he’d still be within range of a crocodile’s attack—the worst case would be if one turned and came for him.

    How could he get the crocodiles back into the water quickly?

    But he only had the one blood sample on him.

    The crocodiles kept watching each other, so he dared not relax, fearing they’d change targets.

    Just then, a bird fell into the water with a splash.

    Both crocodiles spun toward the noise and slid from the bridge into the water in pursuit of food!

    Even agitated or fighting, their senses were as sharp as ever. If he’d rushed across recklessly, he’d definitely have become their dinner. Luckily, he’d paused to think.

    But wasn’t this exactly what the game demanded? One false move and death awaited.

    Patience and caution were clearly essential for success.

    For animals, feeding was instinctive, and most interspecies conflict was over food.

    In the instant the crocodiles dived, Yan Jiyun sprang down from the bridge and shot into the bushes on the far shore.

    Here the brush was sparse, dominated by bamboo, with thirty-centimeter-tall grasses underfoot. Yan Jiyun made his way through the grass.

    The bamboo grove was alive with flying birds and running animals, all feverishly excited. So long as he didn’t meet more predators like crocodiles, he could handle the small fry.

    He ran for two minutes, hearing bird cries, sometimes chased by birds nipping at his fur—but he’d swipe them off with a paw.

    Two more arrived; Yan Jiyun was just about to smack them when one was suddenly knocked away by a big talon, hitting a bamboo stem with a squeak.

    Recognizing the color of his helper, Yan Jiyun held back his paw and brightened with relief.

    “Bad cat! Bad cat!”

    That voice—it was definitely Qingqing.

    The kid had slept all afternoon and was full of energy now?

    Yan Jiyun tapped its wing with a paw, then continued forward; Qingqing noticed that the “bad cat” had nowhere for it to perch in cat form and was forced to fly alongside him.

    Yan Jiyun made a mental note to correct its greeting someday—who had taught it to call him “bad cat?” Had it met another cat before?

    He noticed that, in a fight, Qingqing held its own—any bird that tried to grab Yan Jiyun was kicked away. The route out of the bamboo went smoothly.

    He’d crossed the manmade lake and come out of the vast bamboo forest, with Qingqing guiding him away from snakes coiled on the bamboo.

    A teammate who could fly and communicate made everything easier.

    Out of the bamboo, another challenge appeared: ahead was a pavilion over a lotus pond in full bloom. Judging by the flowers, Yan Jiyun guessed the scenario was set in August.

    But this was no time to admire the scenery. On the pavilion’s pillars, two giant pythons were coiled, their bellies bulging, the ground below littered with bird feathers. Anyone could see they’d eaten their fill.

    The sight of those revolting creatures chilled Yan Jiyun to the bone.

    Qingqing, seeing the snakes, didn’t dare move, feathers standing on end in fright. But snakes couldn’t fly—they just waited on their pillars for prey. Qingqing could fly over; the snakes couldn’t catch it.

    That was an easy solution for Qingqing—fly high and he’d be safe from ground-dwellers. Not so for Yan Jiyun—a land-bound animal.

    Here the system’s countdown feature played its role—a real test of the player’s composure.

    His experience card time was a one-way countdown. Each use took five minutes; thirty minutes gone so far, and four and a half days to go.

    [“Dr. Peng’s Request” Mission Countdown: 14 minutes, 7 seconds]

    [Human Experience Card Remaining Time: 2 minutes, 7 seconds]

    Yan Jiyun forced himself to refocus on getting past the pavilion.

    This scenario was just too hard for a cat. Go left, right, or straight through—and either way he’d end up snake food.

    He had an idea.

    The pavilion sat over the lotus pond, designed for viewing the flowers.

    At this hour, the overlapping lotus leaves—each one radiant in the moonlight—offered a path.

    Yan Jiyun had no time for beauty. He leapt onto the rail to measure the pond’s width. As a decorative pond, it wasn’t too large.

    If he moved fast enough, he could cross by hopping from leaf to leaf.

    He’d have to try—even if he fell, he could swim. He wouldn’t be crossing the pavilion and handing himself to the pythons for a midnight snack.

    Worth a shot.

    By now, Qingqing had flown to a willow on the far side to wait for him.

    Yan Jiyun took a deep breath on the rail, fixed his gaze on the nearest lotus leaf, and prepared—so long as he kept up speed, he wouldn’t fall through!

    His hind legs tensed, and at top speed he launched toward the first lotus leaf!

    Second—third—fourth—!

    Note