[Congratulations to player [Lost] for successfully clearing the dungeon [Cat and Mouse], earning a reward: +30 points.]Â Â
[Congratulations to the player for completing the hidden quest [Escape from Cat Village], earning a reward: +1 attribute point.]Â Â
[Congratulations to the player for obtaining the dungeon item: Insulated Suit ×1.] Â
Su Luo, as was her habit, murmured to herself, “Add the attribute point to Spirit.” Â
She opened her status panel, the familiar interface flickering to life before her eyes:
Health: 25 (+6)
Strength: 7
Speed: 12
Spirit: 14 (+2)
Endurance: 10
Luck: 1
Charisma: 12
Points: 47
Talent Skill: Divine Redemption (Legendary): Instantly teleport one fully healed individual to any location the skill’s owner has previously visited. Limited to one use per dungeon.
Skill 1 – Healing Bullet: Increases (or decreases) an ally’s (or enemy’s) health by 100% of their Spirit value (Cooldown: 5 seconds).
Su Luo was about to log out of the system when a sudden thought struck her—she should buy another bottle of disguise potion for next time.
She tapped open the marketplace, only to freeze in surprise.
There, among the usual wares, was something new: a Five-Cubic-Meter Personal Storage Space (Limit: 1 purchase) for 30 points. Â
Her heart sank.
This blasted game was toying with her, she was sure of it.
Those 30 points she’d scraped together, still warm in her virtual pocket, were about to slip through her fingers.
Grief welled up, threatening to spill over like a river running backward. Â
Reluctantly, she made the purchase.
Who knew if this item had a stock or time limit?
If she hesitated and it vanished, where would she go to cry?
But with her points spent, the next dungeon loomed like a death sentence, her survival hanging by a thread. Â
Logging out, Su Luo let out a long, weary breath.
In truth, she’d only been in this dungeon for two days, but it felt like an eternity, her body and mind utterly drained.
There were still so many hidden secrets in the dungeon she hadn’t uncovered, though thankfully, they weren’t tied to the main quests. Â
This time, the dungeon had been a bountiful haul.
True, she’d given the mysterious pill to Ji Hei, but he was likely to become her teammate, so it wasn’t a loss.
She trusted Ji Hei’s character, after all. Â
Sinking into the plush embrace of her bed, Su Luo let her mind drift, and soon, sleep claimed her.
When she woke, it was already eleven o’clock.
She ordered a standard meal, pointedly noting “no fish”, and savored it with relish.
After lunch, she opened the player forum and typed “Cat and Mouse” into the search bar, only to be met with disappointment—nothing about the dungeon came up. Â
She tried searching “dungeon” instead, and this time, a result appeared: fourteen bold red characters glaring across the screen:Â Â
[Player Forum Prohibits Revealing Excessive Dungeon Content.]Â Â
Fine, then.
Su Luo gave up on the search and decided to go out, to wander and clear her mind.
She might be broke, but that didn’t stop her from window-shopping. Â
Opening the city map app issued to new players by the airport, she began plotting her itinerary, treating the day like a tourist’s adventure.
Su Luo was a native of the capital in her old world, and here, in this strange new one, she was still a capital girl at heart. Â
Her first stop: Q University.
Just like in her original world, Q University here opened its gates to visitors on weekends.
Today was Saturday—perfect timing for a visit. Â
Q University’s campus was breathtaking, its greenery meticulously curated, vibrant and alive.
But in this world, Q University boasted an even greater draw: a simulated dungeon system.
Players could design their own quests and experience near-authentic dungeon environments. Â
Beyond that, the university’s faculty was a marvel in itself.
Formal professors were all high-tier players, and rumor had it that the chancellor was a legendary figure.
In a player continent of two hundred million, fewer than two million were high-tier players—a staggeringly small fraction.
It spoke volumes about the caliber of Q University’s staff.
High-tier status didn’t guarantee academic prowess, but those who reached such heights were undoubtedly exceptional in both learning and ability. Â
Every time Su Luo thought about her impending enrollment in this prestigious institution, even her cool, composed nature couldn’t suppress a faint smile.
The campus buzzed softly with life—students strolling in pairs or small groups, mingled with visitors like herself. Â
As she prepared to leave, an unexpected figure caught her eye: Shuibei.
He didn’t recognize her, thanks to the disguise potion. Â
Su Luo couldn’t help but marvel at the world’s smallness.
She was even more surprised that Shuibei was still alive.
Based on his performance in the last dungeon, he’d seemed like an utter novice. Â
Then it clicked.
Shuibei hadn’t bought a disguise potion, so he’d kept his 20 points.
Death only came with negative points, so he must be sitting at zero now. Â
She had no intention of staging a dramatic reunion.
With a single glance, she turned and walked away.
Shuibei seemed to sense something, his gaze drifting toward her, but all he saw was a patch of weeds. Â
Leaving Q University behind, Su Luo checked her itinerary.
Next stop: Meister Bonwu, the city’s largest mall, surrounded by a sprawling commercial street.
No money?
No problem.
She could still feast her eyes. Â
Along the way, she kept an eye out for job opportunities.
She’d given herself a month’s break, but after that, she’d need to earn her keep. Â
The commercial street was alive with advertisements.
This world had celebrities, too—people needed entertainment, after all.
Here, stars came in two varieties: natural celebrities and point-enhanced ones. Â
The latter were players who boosted their Charisma stat.
Their features, while still beautiful, took on an otherworldly quality, distinct from Earth humans—a kind of beauty universally appealing, no matter the species. Â
These point-enhanced stars were controversial.
Many accused them of chasing fame at the cost of their lives, dragging teams down in high-stakes dungeons.
Su Luo shrugged it off.
It was their life, their choice.
If they were beautiful, they could team up with a powerhouse and maybe even bring some luck to the group. Â
As she wandered Su Luo spotted that several shops were hiring.
Her favorite was a bubble tea shop offering ten bucks an hour.
She also noticed that prices in this world were slightly lower than her original one, but so were wages. Â
A sudden chime interrupted her thoughts.
She opened the system to find a friend request from Ji Hei.
She accepted, and he messaged her immediately. Â
[Ji Hei: Meet up to talk?]Â Â
[Su Luo: Next Monday?]Â Â
[Ji Hei: Works.]Â Â
[Ji Hei: Meister Bonwu Mall, second-floor café?] Â
[Su Luo: Sounds good.]Â Â
A few brief exchanges, and the plan was set.
Ji Hei said no more, and Su Luo closed the system. Â
Feeling she’d seen enough, and with no budget for dinner out, she headed home, eager for a meal and some rest.
After a quick dinner, she pulled out her notebook to jot down thoughts unrelated to the dungeon but worth remembering.
She didn’t want to forget these details in time. Â
[Cat and Mouse Dungeons:
1. Cosmo Corporation Â
The name appeared on the pill’s packaging.
It could be a system-generated fiction, but Su Luo had her doubts.
A name so ripped from sci-fi novels felt suspiciously real. Â
2. The Six Players’ Items Â
According to the dungeon’s lore, the six players were explorers.
But explorers carrying insulated suits?
Cat masks?
Pills that faked death?
Those weren’t adventurer gear—they seemed tailor-made for the dungeon.
Either the system planted them to ensure a clear, or something deeper was at play. Â
3. Cat Village’s Secret Â
This quest was tough, Su Luo realized only after leaving the dungeon.
The other hidden quests were simpler—one didn’t involve people, another just required convincing a child.
Extracting secrets from an adult was far trickier.
More importantly, the secret clearly involved outsiders—whether the rats or the gods of the original story, neither were from Cat Village.
Su Luo couldn’t shake the feeling this task was flawed somehow.  ]
Closing the notebook, she opened another, this one for recording mistakes.
[Cat and Mouse Dungeon Errors:Â
1. Insufficient Deduction Â
This stemmed from her handling of hidden items.
She’d fallen into a trap of habit.
After discovering the lack of cosmetics, learning that hot water removed makeup, and finding scent-masking cosmetics, she’d uncovered three secrets.
Three was a psychological threshold—most people assume they’ve found everything after three.
Like searching for cameras in a room: find three, and you think you’re done.
The fourth stays hidden.
Su Luo had let her guard down after three discoveries, missing an obvious pitfall. Â
2. Too Soft-Hearted Â
She’d realized this when she told Little Hua the truth.
Though she’d rationally assessed it as safe, there was always a risk.
What if Little Hua had been a reckless, powerful NPC?
She could’ve died for her kindness.
Softness was a liability. Â
3. Poor NPC Interaction Â
In two days, she’d only spoken to three NPCs: Uncle Ai, the old lady, and a passerby.
Was she socially anxious?
Compared to her, Ji Hei was a social butterfly, chatting with Uncle Ai, the old lady, a boy, and countless others.
It shattered her initial impression of him as a cool, aloof heartthrob.
Still, their skills complemented each other, and she was satisfied with that.  ]
Finished, Su Luo yawned and flopped onto her bed.
But a sudden thought jolted her upright.
She sat up with a carp-like flip and opened the player forum once more.