DSMC Chapter 37.2

think of this update as a bonus so we can properly get to the new arc next week!

While Qi Feng’s mind raced through possible strategies, Yan Jiyun — who had just woken up — was still stunned at the system notification.

Why was Qi Feng labeled as [Master], and not “Main Account Player”? Or even just by his name?

Wouldn’t a notification like [Main Account Player Qi Feng has logged in] have been enough?

He looked down at his furry paws, his brain buzzing with signals, successfully summoning the young man’s voice.

The youth: “When a player enters the system, it detects that you and the main account share a master–pet relationship in reality, so that relationship was generated here as well.”

Yan Jiyun: “Can’t it be changed?”

The youth: “The data has already been generated and cannot be modified. From now on, all interactions and data between the main and sub-account will follow the initial configuration.”

Yan Jiyun saw the [Master] info tab at the top right of his translucent interface and felt it was utterly absurd.

That label hadn’t existed before. Now it did.

He wished he could claw the word [Master] right off the screen.

Yan Jiyun: “Can you change [Master] to Qi Feng?”

The youth: “No.” 

Yan Jiyun: “Damn.”

Subconsciously, he opened the [Master] information tab.

[Master Name: Qi Feng]

[Species: Human]

[Age: 28]

[Status: Online]

[Intimacy: 0/100]

[Location: Unknown (Insufficient Intimacy — No Permission to View)]

[Instance Information: Unknown (Insufficient Intimacy — No Permission to View)]

Yan Jiyun: “How much Intimacy is needed to unlock Qi Feng’s location?”

The youth: “Unknown.” 

Yan Jiyun: “Isn’t your system level too low? You never know anything.”

The youth replied, “You are a new player, so I cannot provide that information yet.”

However, after seeing the whole pet–master setup, Yan Jiyun asked another question, “If Qi Feng gets notified when I log on, does that mean when I log in or out, he also gets notified?”

The youth: “Yes.” 

Yan Jiyun: “Then does his status panel look similar to mine?”

The youth: “No comment.” 

In other words, he’d have to ask Qi Feng himself. What a useless system.

But now there was an awkward problem. He couldn’t approach Qi Feng in human form, since the other man didn’t know he could transform. And if he went out as a cat, he’d become a suspicious anomaly in the Central Zone.

So the only place he could meet Qi Feng safely was in the real world.

Qi Feng was probably still processing the fact that his cat had entered the game. Yan Jiyun couldn’t help but feel a little curious. Would a man who rarely showed his emotions be utterly shocked?

Once he logged out, Qi Feng would definitely bring him into [Destiny]. That would temporarily solve the problems of food and access.

But of course, that assumed Qi Feng cared enough to act on it.

The biggest issue right now was that Yan Jiyun couldn’t enter [Destiny] on his own. He could only log in if Qi Feng brought him along, or if the system automatically pulled him into an instance when the timer hit.

Yan Jiyun: “If Qi Feng and I log in together, do we appear where we each logged out?”

The youth: “Yes. Wherever you log out, that’s where you’ll appear.”

This game truly made it impossible for Qi Feng to locate him quickly. Yet he couldn’t expose his ability to turn human. He had no idea if Qi Feng would accept that his own cat could become a stranger.

Humans relaxed around small animals, but for someone as cautious as Qi Feng — someone who had survived countless backstabs in instances — his guard against strangers was bound to be higher than most. Yan Jiyun wasn’t about to gamble on that trust.

He believed Qi Feng understood the game rules even better than he did. So how would Qi Feng go about finding him in the Central Zone? Or perhaps… he wouldn’t try at all?

There were still four days until the next instance opened. Yan Jiyun decided not to gamble with his life. Better to keep his fate in his own hands.

When the time was right, he’d test Qi Feng’s attitude bit by bit. As long as Qi Feng spent enough time in the Central Zone, they were bound to run into each other sooner or later. When that happened, he could simply turn back into a cat.

Step by step. No rushing it, haste makes waste.

This time, Yan Jiyun decided not to log out. He couldn’t risk being randomly assigned another instance. He had to stay in the Central Zone and gather information.

For now, he was still a new player. Even if he found Qi Feng, they wouldn’t be able to enter the same instance anyway. That was the most infuriating part of the game. Veterans couldn’t just carry newbies through.

He selected one of the simplest beginner instances from the system list.

To save points, he rarely went out during the day, venturing out only at night for a quick stroll. His temporary Human Form Time Cards were bought in short durations, five to ten minutes each. Most of the time, he just went out to get food, though the fish others cooked for him tasted terrible. He missed his pooper scooper and Lin Xie’s cooking so badly it hurt.

After eating, he’d find a secluded spot to turn back into a black cat and listen for rumors. The night served as his camouflage, though he’d nearly been spotted once. Thankfully, his reflexes were quick.

There were both paid and free places to gather information. The paid one was called the Information Exchange Center, which was a clever player’s creation. Simpler instance info cost fewer points, while harder ones were pricier, though always within range for players of that level.

Yan Jiyun spent some points to buy data for a simple instance. It cost 500 points for just two vague clues. If not for his decent savings, he couldn’t even afford it. The players running such operations weren’t ordinary. They were shrewd businessmen, or as the game called them, guilds.

He learned that most shops within the Exchange Center were run under guilds. Guild players farmed instances for clues, then cleverly translated them into coded language that wouldn’t violate system rules, something akin to Morse code, and sold them to others.

With so many instances in the game, guilds each specialized in different ones. Most left each other alone, except in Intermediate- to High-difficulty instances. The lower-tier Easy ones were often farmed by small guilds.

Joining a guild meant access to shared information, while unaffiliated players were called freelancers.

Yan Jiyun knew he was bound to Qi Feng and didn’t plan to join any guild for now. His points were still stable. He’d clear his first five Newcomer instances before considering the rest.

He mostly moved around the Central Zone at night. He hadn’t seen Zhou Ying or the others again. They might have logged off or were resting in their personal spaces.

Tonight, he visited two more info shops, but none had updates about the instance he wanted. Most players only bought Introductory-level clues, while few bothered with Challenging-level ones. After all, beginners only needed to clear two Challenging instances total, and by the time they finished three simple ones, most had already joined guilds that provided Challenging-level data. Thus, almost no one farmed them solo.

His transformation card was about to expire, so Yan Jiyun ducked into an alley and shifted back into a cat.

No sooner had he done so than a rich, savory aroma drifted through the air.

Crispy fried fish snacks!

Not only that, there was the scent of cat rice too!

is nose twitched. The more he smelled, the more his appetite stirred. It even smelled like his shit shoveler’s cooking.

Wait. That couldn’t be right. This street barely had any food vendors. How could someone suddenly open a stall here? Could they even make a profit?

Whatever the case, the scent of fried fish had completely captured his attention. He’d been eating nothing but plain boiled fish and chicken breast for three days, and only one vendor even agreed to cook for him. That same guy kept lecturing him that eating just chicken wasn’t healthy, that his “fitness diet” was unscientific, and that he needed balanced nutrition to build muscle properly, then even handed him a gym flyer.

The problem wasn’t fitness. It was food! Cats are obligate carnivores, damn it!!

And now, here was the most delicious smell he’d encountered in days. He didn’t even know if it was safe for cats, but he had to see it.

Slipping through the shadows, Yan Jiyun padded toward the source. If it was edible, he’d turn human, buy some, and enjoy it back in his personal space. The scent was too good to ignore. His mouth was practically watering.

Most players here were busy worrying about instances and survival, too broke to care about food. So even though the aroma spread far, no one seemed overly curious.

Only one black cat crept closer and closer, tail flicking, pupils dilating at the irresistible scent.

It was fried fish snacks.

Yan Jiyun’s heart nearly melted. He was living proof of the phrase “greedy cat.”

Whoever the chef was, he will thank the game gods for dragging them in.

The scent wafted through the dim street.

The vendor had been clever, setting up a small pushcart in a shadowed corner, its lighting low and unassuming. It’s a perfect hiding spot.

And behind the cart stood two men.

One of them he knew.

That refined, aloof bearing. Those long legs. That enviably perfect build. That striking, unforgettable face — he’d recognize it even if it turned to ash.

It was his human butler, Qi Feng.

But he couldn’t rush in. The other man was a stranger. What should he do? Could he trust him?

Yan Jiyun’s throat tightened with emotion. He knew Qi Feng was aware he was in the game. This little stall… this smell… it was bait. A trap for one greedy cat.

He wanted nothing more than to leap into Qi Feng’s arms and beg for fish snacks, but with a stranger here, he couldn’t act rashly.

Instead, he crouched by a crate under the streetlamp behind them and listened.

“Feng-ge, why are you suddenly running a stall here these days? And in some deserted alley, no less. Hardly any customers this late. If you wanted to ‘experience life,’ we could’ve gone to the Residential Zone,” said the blue-haired, buzz-cut man. He grabbed a freshly fried fish from the pan and bit into it with loud crunches.

Qi Feng said calmly, “I have my reasons.”

Yan Jiyun watched his precious fried fish, one after another, disappear into the man’s mouth, and his heart ached.

Those were his! And this man was devouring them like a bottomless pit.

Qi Feng finally noticed the dwindling pile of fish and smacked the man’s hand. “Stop eating. I need those.”

Blue Buzz-cut: “Need them for what? They haven’t even attracted a single cat.”

Yan Jiyun, crouching in the shadows: The cat is right here.

The man chuckled, still munching. “Didn’t think you, of all people, could cook this well. Feng-ge, don’t tell me you’re actually a chef? I have known you this long and never learned your profession.”

Qi Feng, clearly losing patience, said, “Be quiet for a moment.”

Blue Buzz-cut: “So quiet already, and you still want silence? Fine, fine. I’ll just eat this last one.”

Before he could finish the last fried fish, Yan Jiyun crept forward, and while the blue-haired man was distracted, he reached out a paw, lightly hooking Qi Feng’s pant leg, hooking and shaking them again and again. 

He knew Qi Feng’s reflexes. He’d notice immediately. Seeing a pair of emerald eyes staring up at him from a sleek black face, relief washed through him. He bent down, scooped the cat into his arms, and vanished from sight.

The blue-haired man blinked, confused. “Feng-ge, did you not add salt to these?”

When he didn’t get an answer, he turned, and realized Qi Feng was gone.

The blue-haired buzz-cut man was confused. “Feng-ge?”