Chapter 128: Why Are You Talking to a Cat?

Watching Phantom look as if he were too utterly disgusted by your very presence to even open his eyes, you began to seriously suspect that your ‘Small Animal Mastery’ passive charm had failed for the very first time.

Then, it hit you. A sudden, horrifying realization washed over your gamer brain: to the people of Terra, you were the furry.

If this entire land was populated by people with animal ears and tails, then a completely hairless ape like yourself was the ultimate anomaly. If things kept going this way, the world truly was finished. Someone had to stand up, take a brave stance, and shout, “Furries are gross!”

Having quickly processed this twisted logic, you consciously slid your chair a few inches further away from the brooding assassin. It was always best to maintain a safe distance. Who knew what kind of strange, niche dating-sim event flag you might accidentally trigger if you got too close?

At that exact moment, Phantom was still keeping his eyes tightly shut, his mind swirling with a strange sense of relief.

‘Ah, this land is truly doomed,’he thought to himself.’Alright, Bacchus, stop indulging in these pathetic hallucinations,’he urged the dark voice in his mind, though his physical body remained perfectly still.’Although I do not know what this bizarre, earless and tailless species is supposed to be, it is blatantly obvious that if you can see him, your madness has reached a severe new low. Hurry up and find a way to wake up!’

Fortunately, he was not Bacchus.

This was true art!

When Cheng Shan hurried over, struggling to balance a massive potted catnip plant that stood taller than she did above her head, she happened to catch sight of the newly awakened Phantom. The elegant assassin was currently sipping his chilled plum juice in tiny, rapid mouthfuls, lapping at the rim of the glass exactly like a stray cat drinking from a puddle. Every few seconds, he would cast cautious, sidelong glances at the hooded youth who had silently taken up residence by the window.

‘He’s awake?’ Cheng Shan’s conscience immediately began to prickle with guilt. He didn’t seem to realize his dire situation at all. Although his dark clothes were a bit tattered from battle, his overall demeanor remained impeccably elegant. He certainly didn’t look like the sort of desperate soul who had fallen so far as to sell himself to others for this kind of humiliating roleplay… Should she remind him?

After three agonizing minutes of nervous fidgeting and intense internal struggle, seeing that the “cat” had finally decided to distance himself from that group of potential perverts, Cheng Shan gathered whatever courage she had left. She stepped forward to confirm things one last time.

“Sir, you know they say you’re a cat, right?”

‘So my assigned identity in this hallucination is a feline?’ Phantom wasn’t the least bit surprised. His dreams back in the Crimson Troupe’s castle were always a chaotic blend of the beautiful and the bloody. He had been a precious prince, and he had been a rampaging, out-of-control monster. Becoming a simple housecat in this particular illusion was actually quite mundane.

Phantom calmly played along with the words of this hallucinated monster—who was currently wearing a convincing Feline skin—and replied smoothly, “Yes, that is correct. I am a cat.”

Cheng Shan, who had just opened her mouth to advise him to flee from this den of perverts, choked on her words. “…”

Phantom immediately followed up with a sharp counter-question. “Then why are you talking to a cat? Are you insane?”

Cheng Shan blinked, her mind stalling. “…”

Phantom’s internal logic was flawless. Merely trying to persuade this hallucinated monster to let him go would never be enough to break the dream; he needed to use physical actions to shatter the illusion. For example, he needed to interact with things related to cats—objects that his subconscious mind would naturally spawn in the corners of this fake world.

What would be related to cats? A grooming comb, a leather collar, a fresh cut of salmon, or… Wait, why would there be such a ridiculously large pot of premium catnip sitting in the middle of a shop? This was a glaring flaw in the hallucination!

Thus, under Cheng Shan’s utterly shocked gaze, this elegant but clearly mentally ill gentleman leaped lightly into the air. He landed squarely inside the massive catnip pot she was still holding above her head and skillfully began to roll around in the dirt and leaves.

Cheng Shan panicked, desperately trying to balance the swaying pot. “Sir, please don’t do that! Stop for a moment!”

Phantom’s logic at this exact moment was crystal clear. “You really are sick, actually trying to hold a conversation with a cat.”

Cheng Shan was on the verge of a complete mental breakdown. “No, you aren’t a cat! In what way do you even look like a cat?!”

Phantom tilted his head, his expression a mask of sincere curiosity. “Then why are you holding the catnip you prepared for me?”

“You… I, ah, no, but…” Cheng Shan was completely derailed, her already not-very-bright brain seizing up entirely under the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Phantom nodded firmly to himself. ‘It really is a hallucination. It looks like a person, but in reality, it reveals its broken, nonsensical nature after just a few words.’

He knew it!

Cheng Shan had completely fallen into a spiral of self-doubt. “Ah… no, sorry, Mr. Cat, let me think for a second…”

Phantom disdainfully kicked at the thick stalks of catnip near the edge of the pot, causing a small shower of loose potting soil to fall directly onto Cheng Shan’s head.

He was a cat now. Would a cat ever be kind enough to give a human time to think?!

Outside the window, the sunshine was warm, a gentle breeze swept through the streets, and various furry citizens went about their daily lives.

Far from the gloomy castles and the bloody ghosts of the past, everything in this war-free town looked incredibly peaceful. There was no need to worry about reading gruesome casualty reports, no need to remain constantly vigilant against the sudden betrayal of short-sighted Sarkaz mercenaries, and no need to constantly bury one’s own negative emotions behind a tactical mask.

Being the Doctor of Rhodes Island was just so much better than being the Ghost of Babel!

You let out a long, highly satisfied breath. When you turned around to check on your companions, you saw Phantom sitting inside the giant catnip pot on top of Cheng Shan’s head, using his hind legs to vigorously dig up loose soil and fling it directly into the poor girl’s hair.

…Hmm. Outsmarting people was also a lot easier than being the Ghost of Babel.

Looking back out the window at the warm afternoon, you watched the locals who had just finished their morning shifts walking down the street. Suddenly, a loud ruckus broke out between a Sarkaz and a Feline.

“You Victoria trash! You cockroach-like Infected! Ptooey, don’t touch me!”

Alright, maybe this level of noise was a bit excessive for a peaceful afternoon.

You had gradually recalled the plotline of this specific area. This small town was one of the very first in Victoria to adopt Columbia’s experimental method of handling the Originium crisis—a city where Infected and non-Infected were allowed to live together.

The Infected were permitted to work and operate businesses within strictly designated quarantine zones. Although the income and treatment they received were far inferior to that of ordinary citizens, it was still considered a rare paradise for them.

—After all, it was little more than a classic frontier reclamation tactic, using lenient policies to encourage desperate prisoners to become self-reliant laborers in a new territory.

Currently, the local council was supposed to be debating a proposal to provide basic health insurance for the Infected, resulting in a bitter political stalemate. Soon, the radical faction opposing the Infected would send their own subordinates, disguised as Infected rioters, to abduct the opposing councilors, thereby artificially intensifying the violent conflict between the two classes.

Afterwards, there would be some sort of accident that caused the conspiracy to leak. Skipping past all the tedious, irrelevant side quests, the radicals would eventually try to burn down the Green Spark shop that Cheng Shan had just purchased.

However, considering the specific inventory currently stored in the hidden basement beneath the shop, if they actually managed to set the building on fire, this entire town might just be wiped off the map in a blinding flash of light…

There was no helping it. That was just what happened when Rhodes Island’s military production capacity reached excessive levels—the engineering department always wanted to bury a tactical nuclear explosive under every single safehouse.

Violent clashes between the Infected and non-Infected weren’t exactly rare on Terra, but the specific person caught in the middle of the street conflict this time was someone you found very rare indeed.

Down on the street, the Infected Sarkaz kept his head bowed low. He was desperately gripping his own wrist, forcibly restraining his hand, which was itching to draw his blade. He swallowed the unprovoked insult in silence.

He was no longer a member of the Reunion Movement. Since he had chosen to abandon the battlefield and live incognito, he had long prepared himself to give up solving his problems with violence.

If he drew his sword now, it wouldn’t solve a single thing. It would only serve to completely ignite the powder keg of conflict between the Infected and the ordinary citizens, destroying one of the few remaining homes on this continent that actually accepted his kind.

The Reunion Movement had already fractured and disbanded. He was no longer that infamous, blood-soaked “Red Blade”…

“Still daring to play dumb?!” The Feline citizen sneered, shoving him. “You have the guts to bump into people on the street, but no guts to even look up—”

“Shut up, you pathetic man who is about to be evicted for failing to pay rent, and who just got cheated on by his wife.”

A cold, youthful voice sliced through the heated air. It was shockingly biting, carrying an icy authority that the Sarkaz felt vaguely, terrifyingly familiar with.

Red kept his head down, watching a dark shadow stretch across the cobblestones to block the angry Feline’s path.

“That delicate handkerchief tucked into your lapel is provided exclusively by the downtown casino, is it not?” The voice continued, dripping with calculated disdain. “Such small, rundown establishments only hand out those specific handkerchiefs to the desperate leeks who have lost absolutely everything, so they have something to wipe their tears with., haven’t you noticed that the jacket you are wearing is at least three sizes too big for your frame? Did you honestly believe it was a loving gift your wife prepared for you? Use whatever is left of your brain and think about why she would buy such cumbersome, oversized clothing for a man who makes his living through manual labor. I’m afraid her lover hadn’t even left the house yet before she panicked and threw his coat onto you to hide the evidence.”

The Feline’s expression rapidly morphed from arrogant anger to pale shock, and then from shock to burning, obvious shame. Under the stunned, whispering gazes of the pedestrians gathering on the roadside, he barely managed to roar a pathetic, “What do you know?!” before turning tail and fleeing in the direction of his home.

You internally sighed. You really didn’t like using such humiliating, Sherlock-style analytical takedowns, just for the record.

“Red. Formerly affiliated with the Reunion Movement, correct?”

Red felt a light, gloved hand come to rest on his tense back. His breathing hitched, pausing completely.

Upon hearing that iconic, lazy, yet utterly unquestionable tone of absolute authority, the memories clicked into place. He finally realized exactly why that voice sounded so familiar.

“Doc… Doctor.”

[Rhodes’s Note:

Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?

(This daily grind literally pays the landship’s rent! 🙇‍♂️):

Massive thanks for reading and supporting the operation!]