The System Mistook Me for a Cat-Chapter 161

Three-Five-Five took a while to understand what an "intern ranch master" meant.

In the eyes of others, it was simply Chu Tingwu meowing to the cat mom, while the tortoiseshell cat occasionally licked her mouth.

Everyone agreed that Three-Five-Five's gaze seemed quite intelligent.

After Chu Tingwu went back to her room, Three-Five-Five lay on the living room carpet, pondering:

The little one had entrusted her with managing the territory, asking her to take care of the dogs (??), horses, and the cattle and sheep reserves.

As for the birds, no matter how rare, in the eyes of a cat mom, if they weren't for eating, they were for entertaining the little one.

But the territory was a bit too big, and she needed help.

-

The ranch had a maintenance day every two weeks, where it was closed to visitors. Those already staying inside the ranch, however, could witness the peculiar sight of robots lining up to return to the warehouse.

Robots scattered across the ranch usually didn't return to the main warehouse but instead charged and rested in nearby indoor venues after "work hours." Each robot had a designated area to manage—while the system could detect any programming errors, mechanical damage from work could still affect the robots, so human inspections were necessary.

The maintenance crew didn't live on the ranch, as life there was somewhat inconvenient, but they would come on maintenance days.

But today, they found that in addition to the robots, there was also a cat in the warehouse.

Someone greeted: "Good morning, Three-Five-Five."

The tortoiseshell cat gave a haughty glance.

They weren't worried that Three-Five-Five would damage the equipment; she had never done anything like that before. Maybe she was just tired of arguing with the dogs and had come to the warehouse to find some peace.

However, it didn't take long for someone to notice—was the cat mom acting like a supervisor?

She paced around the warehouse, inspecting everything as if checking whether they were doing their jobs properly.

Someone tried to offer cat food to Three-Five-Five, but when it was presented, she delicately pushed the person's wrist away with a "Meow."

Just then, barks came from outside. Danhuang couldn't enter but could see people through the door, so he lifted his paw to wipe the glass while barking. Three-Five-Five's ears twitched several times, and she couldn't help but let out an "Meow-ow!" before jumping down to argue with the silly dog.

By the afternoon, someone else noticed: "Three-Five-Five's been quite active today. She's been drinking a lot."

Chu Tingwu nodded, "Mm." From the location map, she could tell that Three-Five-Five seemed to be confirming the size of the territory, marking the boundaries. She had been running around all day, so exhausted that her tongue was out.

Chu Tingwu didn't stop her, and others, seeing the "Intern Ranch Master" tag around the cat's neck, just thought the boss had some new idea and didn't actually consider the cat as their superior.

But this news still reached the protection organization.

They found it a bit strange but quickly forgot about it, redirecting their attention to observing the habits of the red-rain falcons—especially the Chinese members, who were the most enthusiastic and had the best attitude toward Chu Tingwu.

Even though they didn't know if the red-rain falcons would return next year, seeing them this year was a bonus.

As a result, visitors often saw a group of people laughing and chatting while carrying lots of equipment and heading to the off-limits area supposedly dominated by wild birds, littered with bird droppings, and clearly not tourists.

A joke indeed—how could visitors to the ranch not have an electronic cat following them!

The visitors indeed didn't have an electronic cat, but they were repeatedly blocked by a large cat perched on a robot.

Once, Three-Five-Five's robot passed through them on a set route, and someone couldn't help but ask, "Is this cat... choosing the same robot number every time?"

The system: "..."

It wasn't "the same," but rather that this newly activated robot was Three-Five-Five's designated ride.

The day after the maintenance day, Three-Five-Five went to the warehouse, picked out an unused robot, tapped it with her paw, and meowed assertively.

The system: "==="

Fine, it's all yours.

Since living at the Jin City home, the cat mom had been used to having an invisible but communicable "companion" (servant?), so she handled ordering the system around quite naturally.

Once she realized that patrolling the entire park daily was too exhausting for just one cat, she exercised her rights as ranch master and found herself a ride.

And Three-Five-Five would even switch rides.

Because the next day, the team noticed that the familiar tortoiseshell cat rode past them on a horse—just like before, completely ignoring the humans who smelled fine.

When Chu Tingwu's flight back to Jin City was booked, the protective facilities around the main activity area of the red-rain falcons were completed, rather than just being blocked by a sign. The Qi River City announced the news of a group of wild red-rain falcons breeding at the Shanwan Ranch.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Using "bird droppings" to deter was just a temporary protection measure. The existence of these birds couldn't be kept secret for too long, so it was best to protect them while warning: letting visitors know what the penalty was if they disturbed these birds.

There were two layers of protection, and the autonomous driving sightseeing cars within the park also changed their routes to avoid disturbing the birds' lives—as for the planned museum, it would only start construction once the birds had left.

But this didn't dampen visitors' enthusiasm.

Some might not be into birds, but they loved the "rare" and "protected" aspect, wanting to go just to take pictures, so it was better to appease rather than suppress. The ranch decided on a lottery system, allowing a very small number of lucky visitors to enter the first layer and view the birds from afar, accompanied by professionals.

The ranch also purchased special binoculars for protected areas as observation equipment... although given the size of the ranch, binoculars weren't really necessary to get a good view.

Those who didn't win didn't get upset either, as they noticed something else strange—

"Is the kitten also working today?"

This wasn't referring to Three-Five-Five, but to the "tour guide cats" who by theory shouldn't be on duty.

Now that only two episodes of the animation had aired, the cats already had fans. Many visitors even came especially to have a cat as their tour guide. Normally, spending a lot meant only getting a brief encounter with an idol, but "chasing" a virtual cat star just required a train ticket and entrance fee to have your favorite guide accompany you around the ranch for hours of conversations—more words than even seen in the animation—setting their hearts afire with bliss.

But some cats were very popular while others hadn't appeared yet, so it was random to see your choice star kitty. Thus, these fans had developed strategies and valued the ranch's released "schedule" as holy texts.

They ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‍clearly remembered the working days of the cats.

Three-Five-Five and the group of cats were squatting on the second floor of the Lego hotel.

The hotel was planned to open in mid-September, but for now, visitors couldn't go up, so they could only watch from the outside. A group of tourists saw a lively tortoiseshell and a crowd of transparent cats having a meeting.

The system: "..."

Three-Five-Five seemed a bit impatient, pacing at the front before occasionally turning to let out a "Meow-ow," somewhat sternly.

The cats around her looked to the left and right, their voices not too loud, very cautious.

But this made Three-Five-Five even more exasperated: these "cats" had no scent, no scent at all!

Cats communicated not only through body language and vocalization but also most importantly through smell. Smell could mark objects and creatures, send messages to others, and was crucial.

But Three-Five-Five had long since recognized that these cats were "disabled kittens." It took her some time to figure out that they were the same kind of creatures as the "dragon babies" running around Fallen Phoenix City with the little one. They looked like cats, moved like cats, sounded like cats, but smelled completely off.

If Three-Five-Five knew about a ghost concept, she would probably say: like kitten ghosts, meow!

That's why Three-Five-Five felt a bit repulsed by them.

After the change in her kitten's taste last time, Three-Five-Five hovered around her kitten, rubbing against it. Her cognitive abilities had improved significantly, and thus, she began to secretly interact with these "tiny cat ghosts."

System: "……"

The System knew everything but wasn't overly talkative, silently granting permissions instead.

It was a bit of a struggle for Three-Five-Five to tame the electronic kittens.

Fighting ability was one of the key factors determining a cat's status, and a good scrap often resolved many issues. After a fight, a friendly grooming session usually cemented the hierarchy—but electronic cats, with their programmed personalities, would play-fight with each other, making Three-Five-Five's attempts to pounce land on thin air.

Yet, the cats would scatter, as if they really could be pounced on.

This was the program's interactive response, but it left Three-Five-Five baffled... she found these scentless cats a bit silly.

Unable to rely on brute force, she turned to using her voice and presence instead. The System didn't intervene, merely quietly collecting data. It soon noticed that Three-Five-Five, while observing and thinking, began to frequently insert herself into the skirmishes between the tour guide cats.

Yes, she began to mediate.

Interactivity! She quickly realized that this interactivity was a double-edged sword. While the cat mom felt she was swatting at air, her actions, combined with her mediation, made these cats actually act as if they had been hit.

However, with so many cats, Three-Five-Five was getting a bit exhausted.

When Chu Tingwu called back, Three-Five-Five had already started to understand the individual "personalities" of these cats and had grown accustomed to identifying them through sound and behavior rather than instinctual scent. She had even begun to efficiently manage the non-working, off-duty cats.

Chu Tingwu nodded constantly on the video call, occasionally letting out a serious "meow" or two. Then, she didn't forget to register an account on the Shanwan Ranch visitor forum, posting the information provided by Three-Five-Five—

Although the backend already had detailed information on the cats, the perspective of the cat mom was undoubtedly unique.

The users were in shock.

This account, with the ID "Cat Language Translator," described the personalities and behaviors of the cats (even providing examples) in great detail and accuracy, as if the author were among them.

But why... were there cat sounds in every sentence, complete with pinyin annotations and tones? Was this translator for real?

"Wow, are you the legendary Chu Tingwu?"

The commenter was just joking, thinking it was a fun stunt, as they couldn't tell if the "cat language" was authentic or not.

But behind the account was Chu Tingwu: "=="

Chu Tingwu responded: "Actually, I'm Three-Five-Five."

The commenter replied: "That's impossible; cats can't type."

Half an hour later, the comment resurfaced: "……I was wrong, Master Three-Five-Five, any more scoops?"

This was getting absurd! Upon arriving at the ranch, they found Three-Five-Five leading a group of idle electronic kittens, watching a digital map projected in mid-air, and even using the touchscreen with impressive proficiency!

Could it be that she could really post online too?