The System Mistook Me for a Cat-Chapter 198

Three-Five-Five crawled out of bed, first tiptoeing on cat-like steps to the ensuite bathroom, where she groomed her fur in front of the mirror. After smoothing down her ruffled fur, she jumped into the automatic litter box, stayed for a while, then hopped out and squeezed through the cat flap on the door. Just then, she heard the sound of the door opening.

Aunt Mei and Three-Five-Five ran into each other as the latter emerged, and Aunt Mei greeted her familiarly, "Three-Five-Five, you're awake. Come out for breakfast."

Three-Five-Five: "Meow."

Aunt Mei's sleeve still had black cat fur stuck to it, and although the living room downstairs had a cat tree and a cat bed, Shikuai insisted on lounging on the narrow staircase railing. As he lay there, his belly fat spilled over the sides, giving him a very relaxed appearance.

Three-Five-Five walked past without a glance, heading straight to eat her cat food.

Aunt Mei poured Shikuai's portion into the bowl next to Three-Five-Five's, but Shikuai twitched his ears and didn't start eating.

Lately, he seemed to be on some sort of diet or something, as he had become sluggish even when eating. However, Aunt Mei knew the reason: a few days ago, a friend of Teacher Zhang's family had visited and brought cat treats. Aunt Mei had opened a pack for both cats to try, and ever since, Shikuai had been begging for snacks instead of eating his regular meals.

Aunt Mei wasn't one to indulge him. She lifted the blanket on the sofa and, sure enough, found Wu Classmate underneath.

Wu Classmate had long since learned to use a designated spot for his business, but perhaps due to the change in environment, he had developed a bit of a stomach issue. A couple of days ago, he had an accident in the living room, so now he wore a bird diaper on his rear.

Before Aunt Mei could say anything, Wu Classmate seemed to sense what was coming and let out a couple of squawks, flying over to hover above Shikuai's food bowl.

As soon as he looked down, Shikuai sprang into action.

The black cat in white underpants, who had been dozing just moments ago, now darted out in a flash to reclaim his bowl.

Three-Five-Five, who had almost been stepped on: "..."

Three-Five-Five raised a paw and gave Shikuai two solid thumps: even though it was just a close call, as the "cat mom," she treated Shikuai like her little brother, and little brothers were not allowed to fly over the big sister's head.

After Three-Five-Five finished eating, Teacher Zhang also woke up and sat down at the dining table for breakfast.

What made Aunt Mei happy was that since arriving in the small town of Melmors, Teacher Zhang had been sleeping longer, and the quality of her sleep seemed to have improved.

This Russian town was located within the Arctic Circle, and just by opening the window, one could see the aurora borealis. The town was sparsely populated, with houses spaced far apart. There was only one supermarket in town, and Aunt Mei went out once a week to stock up on supplies.

However, she didn't have to worry too much about running out of essentials, as every month someone would deliver food and water that couldn't be bought in Russia. This was arranged by Man Xing.

Just at the beginning of the month, Man Xing had sent Three-Five-Five over along with the supplies.

Though no longer working as a personal assistant, Man Xing still handled all sorts of life management tasks, though most of the time she delegated the work rather than doing it herself.

Unless the work involved Three-Five-Five or Chu Tingwu (the cat).

Snow had also fallen at Shanwan Ranch, but there, the peacocks, parrots, and horses had dedicated caretakers, and the dogs spent the winter in the hotel with the staff. So, only Three-Five-Five had gone abroad.

After finishing her meal, Three-Five-Five calmly licked her paws and jumped onto the sofa.

Aunt Mei sat down beside her and began trimming the fur on Three-Five-Five's paws.

Teacher Zhang also came over with her tablet, turned on an audiobook, and as soon as she raised her hand, Shikuai plopped onto her lap and started kneading.

She smiled and said softly, "Oh, Shikuai, you're getting fatter and fatter."

Though he could understand the word "fat," since Teacher Zhang hadn't said it in cat language, Shikuai pretended not to understand and just meowed sweetly, too lazy to argue.

Aunt Mei chuckled:

Shikuai used to love running around outside, but the winters here were too cold. After one outing, he came back with his head covered in snow, and since then, he had been piling on the pounds.

As ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‍for Three-Five-Five... after Aunt Mei finished dealing with the annoying fur on her paws, Three-Five-Five jumped down and walked to the door, even fetching her leash from the shoe cabinet, signaling to Aunt Mei that it was time to go.

Aunt Mei agreed and went to get the custom-made VR live-streaming equipment for the tortoiseshell cat.

Once everything was ready, the two of them went out for a walk.

This wasn't to start a live stream on Chu Tingwu's account—she no longer had a monthly streaming requirement. Instead, they were recording a VR video to send to the little one on the icebreaker once she had internet access.

The tortoiseshell's fur had visibly thickened, and after stepping into the snow, she lifted a paw to shake it off before retreating to the cleared path.

Once Aunt Mei caught up, the cat mom glanced back at her, made sure the leash was secure, and then suddenly leaped forward, diving into the snow—

She wanted to play "snow swimming."

Aunt Mei: "Ha."

Three-Five-Five had initially been troubled by the town's snow because, even with a cat's light weight, walking on the thin top layer could cause her to suddenly sink. But last week, she seemed to have discovered that rolling in the snow was quite fun, and she could even paddle forward with her front paws.

Of course, Three-Five-Five never played like this in front of Shikuai. Only after they were a good distance from the house would she signal to Aunt Mei.

If she got tired of paddling, Aunt Mei would pick her up, brush off the snow, and carry her while continuing their walk.

As they walked, a neighbor's door opened.

Aunt Mei greeted them: "Lots of guests today?"

Two cars were parked outside the neighbor's house, so it seemed they were heading out for work.

The neighbor laughed: "Yeah, some tourists arrived."

When she stepped out, she saw Three-Five-Five and brought out some snacks—not for cats, but the kind of sugary treats kids love.

She had once wondered if the family renting the house next door treated their cat like a child or if they had a child. But after talking with Aunt Mei, she learned that it was the cat who was raising the child, which explained why she liked snacks meant for kids.

The cat would bring the snacks back to the room and store them carefully.

Thinking of this, she took the opportunity to give Three-Five-Five's head a couple of hearty pats, withdrawing her hand just as the tortoiseshell let out an annoyed "meow."

The neighbor: "When your kid comes over, I'll take her to see the aurora for free!"

Aunt Mei smiled and said thanks.

The neighbor's job, colloquially known as "aurora hunting," was a common profession in the town. Of course, in this town, seeing the aurora was easy—just look up at the right time. But not all auroras were the same.

Tourists traveled from afar to take photos and enjoy the scenery, and that's where "aurora hunters" came in.

Most were locals who knew the best spots for the most stunning auroras and the most photogenic views. They even coordinated with others to ensure certain locations remained free of crowds.

They took tourists out in cars to chase the aurora... it sounded incredibly romantic, but it was also a good business.

The neighbor patted the car and shrugged: "Those tourists came by car, but their vehicles aren't suited for this place, so I had to borrow one from my siblings."

Aunt Mei and Teacher Zhang weren't too concerned about this, especially since Teacher Zhang couldn't see.

...It wasn't like Aunt Mei could take two cats and a crow to see the aurora, right?

On the way back from walking Three-Five-Five, Aunt Mei ran into the group of tourists. They seemed to be discussing a tabletop RPG, planning to continue playing back at the hotel after seeing the aurora. Their lively chatter made the falling snowflakes seem more vibrant.

She smiled, pushed open the door, and heard Teacher Zhang humming a tune, Shikuai and Wu Classmate squabbling, and the robot vacuum slowly patrolling the room until Three-Five-Five jumped down and stepped on it.

Aunt Mei: "You start the game, I'll go make some snacks."

She was referring to the game "Cat House."

They had come here for a vacation, and it would have been inconvenient to bring the VR pod, but Man Xing had sent it over, and it was the latest upgraded version.

In the room, there were two experience pods. Aunt Mei could have played together with Teacher Zhang, but while Teacher Zhang was playing, Aunt Mei would usually do some housework, bake some snacks, or even play with the cat, especially Shikuai, to prevent him from sleeping too much during the day and suddenly going on a nighttime ramble.

—Teacher Zhang was getting older, and Aunt Mei was worried that she might face some inconveniences in the experience pod. Since communication wasn’t suitable in the game and the pod was soundproof, Aunt Mei rarely played.

She thought she might mention it to Chu Tingwu later—perhaps they could add some health monitoring features to the customized experience pods, considering the elderly players.

But seeing Teacher Zhang playing the game, Aunt Mei couldn’t help but smile.

The fact that even the visually impaired could experience the joy of semi-holographic games made her very happy.

-

In the game, Zhang Youyi went by the name “Teacher Zhang.”

She had been called “Teacher Zhang” for half her life and had grown accustomed to the title. When the calico kitten addressed the players, it would take the last two characters of their ID and add “Mom.” So when she logged in, the calico kitten would meow and approach her, saying, “Teacher Mom~”

Teacher Zhang patted its head.

Perhaps other players didn’t feel the stark difference between a cat’s body and a human’s, but every time Teacher Zhang logged into the game, she could feel a unique lightness—compared to her human body, being a cat was just so comfortable.

Therefore, if it weren’t for the experience pod’s daily playtime limit, designed to consider the players’ physical conditions, Teacher Zhang might have found herself getting addicted, just like the younger players.

—Even though the scenery here wasn’t quite like the real world.

The game’s graphics were still just game graphics; the semi-holographic realism wasn’t perfect, and even with the best experience pods available, players could still feel a noticeable difference from reality.

She glanced at the “snowy scenery” outside the window, opened the door of the cat house, and stepped out, first finding three message bottles in the snow.

After the chat channel went live, the friend system followed shortly after, allowing players to send private messages once they added each other as friends.

What relieved the players was that while the message bottles still couldn’t be directed to a specific recipient, the chances of them drifting to a “friend” had increased, and players could now put small notes inside the bottles.

The number of message bottles was dynamic—players could get one by signing in daily, and once they retrieved the contents of a bottle, they could wash it and reuse it.

Inside the bottle was a gift from Teacher Zhang’s friend, Chengzi.

But it had already changed hands several times—

Even though the probability had increased, the bottles still weren’t guaranteed to reach the intended recipient. So, when others found the bottles and saw the notes inside, they might add the “recipient” as a friend to increase the chances and then toss the bottle back into the virtual sea.

Thus, the gift had passed through several hands before finally reaching Teacher Zhang.

She had added several friends—some she continued to chat with, while others deleted her after completing the message bottle relay task.

But they were all undoubtedly good people.

Teacher Zhang’s friend Chengzi was no exception. She didn’t know Chengzi’s gender or occupation, only that Chengzi seemed to have issues with their legs, much like how Teacher Zhang was visually impaired. Through the game, Chengzi had also experienced what it was like to be “normal,” and both of them hoped that the era of fully immersive holographic games would truly arrive, and that Chu Tingwu’s company would continue to thrive.

She took out the gift, then rummaged through her own stash to find something Chengzi might find useful, and stuffed it back into the bottle.

Then, she picked up the other two bottles—these had also been misdirected to her. One contained a small note thanking the previous person for re-tossing it, while the other had only a note inside, no items, returning to the essence of a “message bottle.”

The note read:

“Hello, stranger, wishing you an early Happy New Year, good fortune, and prosperity. The cat food inside is a red envelope for your little one.”

This chapter is updat𝙚d by freeweɓnovel.cøm.

“P.S.: I’m the second handler. The previous person already took the cat food, but I thought the blessing was nice, so I’m passing it on to you.”

Teacher Zhang was both amused and touched: quite generous, indeed.

For the recipient, it was essentially a free bottle.

After some thought, she added fifty pieces of cat food, left the note untouched, and simply added that she was the third handler, tossing in a small red envelope for good luck before throwing the bottle back into the virtual sea.

She returned to her workshop to work on some blueprints. Outside, the snow was falling heavier, and she decided to finish this week’s limited-edition design, giving the furniture a unified style. But before long, the system notified her that she had received another message bottle.

Inside was another note.

“P.S.S.S.: I’m the fourth handler. I took the cat food. I’m in a bit of a tough spot myself, so I can’t offer much, but thank you, kind stranger. Here’s a poem to wish you a Happy New Year.”

Teacher Zhang: “…”

Teacher Zhang: “Hmm…”

She tossed the bottle back out.

A little later, the chat room buzzed with activity—someone had received that bottle but decided not to toss it back.

[I Gave Birth to This Kitten]: [Image]

[I Gave Birth to This Kitten]: Whose silly poem is this? The previous person who tossed the bottle kindly adjusted the meter for you. Since the bottle’s probability is so low, I was worried you wouldn’t see it, so I’m posting it here. No need to thank me.

The channel immediately lit up as everyone gathered to admire this “masterpiece.”

The poet, feeling utterly embarrassed, lifted a paw to cover their face: “…”

We’re all cats here—writing poetry is already impressive enough…

What more do you want?