Cats always keep their word

“Cough, cough! Silence!” The Director, an elderly man with graying hair, tried to quiet the chaotic meeting room after a long absence.

The room wasn’t crowded, with only a few attendees: The Captain who was on his way, a small group of researchers, Dr. Sun, The Director, the logistics director, and a few other senior tactical and administrative staff.

Despite the small number, the room was as lively as a marketplace.

Everyone, finally able to voice their long-held questions, was filled with excitement and anticipation.

“Since the meeting hasn’t started yet, feel free to speak your minds,” someone suggested, leading to a flurry of guesses, strategies, and hopes mixed with worries about the unknown.

The Director, however, maintained his authority.

With a stern voice, he silenced the noise: “I know everyone is excited, but remember, the greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment. We’ve prepared for every possibility. Let’s proceed with the questions in an orderly fashion.”

Just as he finished speaking, The Captain pushed open the door.

His tall, muscular frame paused as he entered, saluted his colleagues, and then strode confidently to his seat, revealing the petite figure of a catgirl behind him.

She held a large, round ball of fur in her arms.

“It’s no easy task,” The Captain remarked, “Gao Xin is so small, and Bai is so tall. Bai had to shrink herself to match Gao Xin’s height.”

Seeing the girl’s confused and nervous expression, The Director spoke kindly: “Don’t be nervous, young one. Take a seat at the empty spot. You just need to translate for your friend, Xuan Bai.”

Gao Xin noticed for the first time that the meeting table had been replaced with a large round one, the only empty seat being directly across from The Director.

With Bai in her arms, Gao Xin took her seat.

Bai gracefully leapt onto the table, circled around, and sat directly in front of Gao Xin, using her fluffy tail to partially hide her paws.

The others averted their gazes, exchanged glances, prepared their notes, and The Director leaned in to ask, “Is she ready?”

On their way, Gao Xin had tried to explain to Bai what was about to happen.

Bai understood, but understanding didn’t mean she had to respond, especially since no one knew what a cat’s values might be.

They could only promise to meet Bai’s demands if she cooperated.

Bai, of course, agreed without hesitation.

The questions were carefully crafted by a group of experts, covering hundreds of possibilities to ensure a comprehensive inquiry.

However, Bai’s response to the first question shattered many of their preparations.

“Where do you come from?” The Director asked, and the room fell into a tense silence.

Everyone watched the cat, who seemed to be deep in thought, and occasionally glanced at the catgirl translator.

If not for the seriousness, the scene would have been amusing.

Bai pondered, wondering where she truly came from.

Was it the nameless mountains, the old city where she had lived for 20 years, or her cozy cat bed?

Opening her eyes, Bai’s gaze, enhanced by her spiritual sight, became deeply profound, almost eerie.

Through her abilities, she seemed to understand their questions.

Memories of the reincarnation cat’s words before leaving the old city flooded back.

Bai’s answer was conveyed to Gao Xin through their contract link: “Xuan Bai says she comes from another world.”

The room erupted in chaos.

While they had considered this possibility, it seemed too small and too unsolvable.

The Director, however, maintained control.

With a firm slap on the table, he silenced the room and asked the second question: “What are the anomalies?”

Bai had wondered about this since they started calling her an anomaly.

She pondered the other anomalies she had seen, which lacked intelligence but had a faint sense of soul.

They were just clusters of intertwined information, like infectious viruses.

Bai didn’t know how to answer.

Her deep gaze returned to its usual clarity, and she simply conveyed her thoughts: “Xuan Bai says she doesn’t know.”

Suddenly, she added, “Xuan Bai also says: She is not an anomaly.”

This statement led to further confusion.

In the Countermeasure Bureau, denying being an anomaly was as absurd as a prisoner in jail claiming innocence.

But when the prisoner is the only one in all the jails who can speak and escape at will, yet chooses not to, their statement carries more weight.

“Do you truly understand the difference between yourself and the anomalies?”

Of course, Bai understood, even if she didn’t comprehend their strange devices.

The cause and effect of this world were like indelible factory labels, but cats had none.

Gao Xin’s eyes began to glaze over as she struggled to understand.

After much hesitation, she offered her interpretation: “Xuan Bai says the anomalies are local, and she is not, so she definitely isn’t an anomaly.”

Oh no, the meeting was derailed.

Two questions had already caught everyone off guard, forcing them to ask some pre-prepared filler questions.

How did you come here? What is your purpose? Why did you choose to come here?

This was torturous for the catgirl.

Xuan Bai’s messages were incomprehensible, and Gao Xin had to strain her brain to translate.

How did she come? She learned from her kind and squeezed through with feeling.

Why did she come? Her home was too small to live in.

Why here? It was random.

What was her purpose? To eat and play, she supposed.

Besides learning that Xuan Bai had another feline friend who hadn’t arrived, they couldn’t glean any more information.

The Director rubbed his temples, exasperated.

Only one question remained: “How did you change the anomalies?”

Change the anomalies? Oh, that silly ribbon?

Bai was still young and hadn’t learned to manipulate the complex information.

She had only copied it using an auxiliary system through their contract.

The changes were random due to information overflow.

Next to her, the catgirl, exhausted from overusing her brain in just an hour, struggled to translate: “Xuan Bai says it can change, but the changes are random.”

So, was the side effect of the last change just a coincidence?

Could they try it again with some useless containment objects?

Finally, the long interrogation ended.

Bai rubbed against her pitiful catgirl friend, licking her thick hair, just like Bai’s own.

Gao Xin, flushed with happiness, buried her face in Bai’s thick fur, rubbing back and forth.

This, she thought, was mutual marking, a friendly exchange.

With all questions answered, it was time for Bai to make her request.

What could possibly motivate Bai to answer an hour’s worth of chaotic questions?

Of course, it was revenge, especially against someone who had recently brought her and the catgirl with such force, adding to old grievances.

Bai intended to follow through on her promise!

Oh, and that man who deceived the cat, constantly asking new questions, he would get his comeuppance too.

The bad man and the dumb giant would become cat people!

Receiving Bai’s intent, the catgirl’s mouth twitched.

Become cat people… Gao Xin quickly realized what Bai meant.

After translating Xuan Bai’s responses for an hour, Gao Xin felt like a traitor.

She silently criticized herself, then followed Bai’s gaze and cautiously spoke up.

“Um… Xuan Bai says she wants to sign a contract with Captain Wei and Dr. Sun.”

The questions had already covered what a contract was.

Bai’s response was that it facilitated communication and skill sharing, with the physical changes due to the vast difference in spiritual power.

Unfortunately, Gao Xin’s translation was: “Communication and sharing abilities, the physical change is due to the power difference.”

While the power difference was hurtful, it was understandable, given that Bai could fly and teleport, while humans couldn’t.

The ability sharing was misinterpreted as physical attributes.

In reality, those were side effects of information overflow, and since Bai hadn’t loaded any public skills, Gao Xin didn’t know about them.

Contracts were temporarily harmless, but that didn’t mean they were truly safe.

Bai’s direct request made everyone uneasy.

Asked why she chose them, Bai replied candidly: “Because he pulled my tail, and he deceived me!”

The Captain wanted to protest loudly, but Dr. Sun seemed delighted: “I’ve always wanted to try becoming a different species. Come on, let’s sign!”

His eager gaze, magnified by his glasses, made Bai’s fur stand on end.

No way, no way, no way.

If they didn’t want to change, becoming cat people was the revenge.

If they did, Bai wouldn’t let them.

Hearing Bai decline Dr. Sun and only agree to contract with The Captain, The Captain panicked, his eyes wide with fear: “No, Dad, this…”

“Call me what?” The Director asked sternly.

“Director, this… I don’t accept it! I still want to contribute to the country!”

The Director finally understood.

This cat had no hidden agendas or sinister purposes; it just wanted to have some fun.

So, he encouraged The Captain, “Contributing to science is also a contribution. You can focus on internal affairs from now on.”

Under the dual authority of commander and parent, The Captain had no choice but to obey.

With a painful expression, he closed his eyes, hearing the familiar, sweet voice: “Xuan Bai invites you to join the Soul Lamp Network. Do you agree?”

With a resolve to get it over with quickly, The Captain firmly tapped ‘confirm.’

The Director stared in disbelief as a soft, white light enveloped the muscular man beside him.

The light wasn’t bright, but it completely obscured his form.

The blurred outline shrank, and two small, triangular ears began to form on his head.

Soon, the light faded, revealing a small, black-haired catgirl with a round face and large, black eyes.

She looked more like a loli than a yandere.

A short, round black tail peeked out from behind her.

The Director muttered in a daze: “I just wanted to coax her into changing the conditions, but you actually agreed?”

“You should have said something earlier, meow!” a clear, childish shout echoed through the meeting room.

(Reminder: Communicate more with your parents.)