Chapter 176: Cats Are Not That Easy to Be

The slowly awakening person did not understand their current situation, yet felt an inexplicable fear.

Human?

No, not.

Just now, amidst the haze, I definitely heard a human voice, but at the same time also heard a cat's cry.

He twitched his leg, seemingly trying to rub off the rope tied to his ankle, but another cat's meow made his scalp go numb.

He knew this cat; that meow was all too familiar. Because of that sound, he had suffered nightmares for a long time—even watching videos of cat abuse, or even killing a cat with his own hands, could not dispel this fear in the slightest; instead, it only grew worse.

It's it!

It's that spotted cat he almost slaughtered but which ultimately escaped!

Why does it keep haunting him?!

He regretted it, truly regretted it……

Why, when buying a cat from the cat dealer back then, did he choose this one?

Perhaps because this cat's gaze was the most defiant, the most ferocious? It gave him the greatest pleasure in abusing it.

"Wooh——"

Another cat's meow.

Upon hearing this meow, even someone unfamiliar with cats can sense a warning and aggression in it.

After hearing that meow, Zheng Tan pressed his ears back, feeling that something was off.

Normally, a warning "wooh" starts low, rises, then falls at the end.

But this spotted cat's voice now sounds different from that, seemingly mixed with other tones. Perhaps to ordinary people there isn't much difference, but Zheng Tan, from a cat's perspective, using a cat's hearing to discern, feels that this meow contains… a meaning of summoning its kin?

It's like you don't understand this language, yet you can tell kindness or malice from someone's tone just the same.

A cat's meow is actually quite complex; though not as rich and varied as human language, since becoming a cat Zheng Tan has heard hundreds of them. Perhaps each cat has its own way of expressing itself, or perhaps different vocalizations actually convey the same meaning, but no one can say for sure. Even Zheng Tan can only roughly infer possible meanings from these meows, without being able to delve deeper. Many sounds that sound similar to people actually convey very different emotions.

Zheng Tan was thinking about that when a cat's meow came from not far away.

I don't know whose cat it is, out for an evening stroll.

"Meow——"

That spotted cat raised its voice and called, one meow after another.

Soon, a few more cat cries came from the distance, belonging to different cats. No need to fully understand them; yet upon hearing the first one you can roughly guess its meaning.

"Tsk. Are these cats starting to go into heat?" Er Mao poked Zheng Tan, who was standing on the car roof.

People's first reaction to a cat's loud yowl is usually that the cat is in heat again. Little do they know, a cat's yowl can have other meanings, and this kind of yowl is completely different from the previous kind.

Zheng Tan watched as more and more cats responded. He wondered where this summoning-type vocal technique came from—he didn't know whether the spotted cat had figured it out on its own or learned it from another cat. In any case, this sound can make cats resonate, as if the most primal consciousness hidden in their blood were awakened, exciting them and drawing them toward the source of the call.

Zheng Tan suddenly recalled the scene from a wildlife documentary where, under a full moon, a wolf on a high point howls once and the pack joins in.

In the not-so-tall grass patches and farmland planted with crops, a swishing sound came one after another, different from the rustling of leaves brushed by the evening wind; in this quiet night it was not hard to tell—it was the sound of cats running through the grass.

From Er Mao's perspective, under the moonlight, one could clearly see the wild grass clumps and crops, about half a meter tall and already somewhat dense, swaying due to the movement of creatures inside, their running paths pointing straight this way.

Larger feline predators like tigers, leopards, and lions have roars that sound immensely imposing, but a cat's yowl is different—it sounds chillingly eerie.

He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, took a deep drag, and Er Mao pressed down that uneasy feeling in his heart.

The cigarette's ember flickered with each gust of night wind.

Er Mao leaned against the car and glanced around.

The responding cat cries grew more numerous.

Is this a chorus?

Zheng Tan, standing on the car roof, gradually felt somewhat excited; Er Mao couldn't tell, but Zheng Tan suddenly felt an urge to howl as well.

He lifted his head, gazing at the full moon hanging in the sky, and Zheng Tan took a deep breath.

"Owo——"

The cats' cries came to an abrupt halt.

It was like everyone was singing when suddenly a fart sounded; the dissonance directly blew away the mood that had been built up.

In the grass, a cat froze in place; in the shorter, sparser patches one could still see a cat's sharp ears twitching, seemingly trying to figure out which local ruffian that sudden howl belonged to. Moreover, a few cats overly sensitive to their surroundings sprang up like fleas, their half-meter-high grass unable to conceal their arched bodies leaping into the air.

Having just taken a puff, Er Mao and Zheng Tan were startled by that sudden yowl, choking and nearly coughing to the ground. This was the first time Er Mao had heard Zheng Tan howl; before, he had only heard a little about it from Wei Leng, but he never expected the auditory impact to be so great.

The spotted cat flicked its ears, glanced at Zheng Tan, then turned back and continued yowling at the person on the ground who was frantically kicking his legs.

Zheng Tan understood the gist of that glance from the spotted cat. Damn, the old man's been rejected!

The gloomy Zheng Tan scraped his claws on the car roof, leaving a few scratch marks.

After nearly two years as a cat, he's still unqualified.

Cats, indeed, are not that easy to be.

Fortunately, those cats didn't have many other thoughts; after a pause, they continued to gather toward the center under the spotted cat's lead.

Having recovered, Er Mao tossed the cigarette butt and stomped it out with his toe, then said to Zheng Tan: "Give it up—your yowl could scare off ghosts. Let's not call anymore; let them do the calling. Just sit nearby and watch; if they can't handle it, you can step in."

He glanced at the distant expanse of grass, Er Mao shivered at the goosebumps on his arms. This scene is indeed eerie. There must be about ten or so already; looking at it, probably more cats will hear the commotion and come running.

Cats as animals are really hard to figure out.

For safety, Er Mao opened the car door and climbed in; it seemed he didn't need to get his hands dirty. These cats didn't look very friendly.

Er Mao always felt that cats were a blend of devil and angel—when they lazily lounge in the sun or squint their eyes while rubbing against you for affection, they are indeed cute and lovable. Their overall ease and narrowed eyes seem to make time's pace leisurely, making one feel the whole world is warm, but their other side constantly makes people grit their teeth; perhaps gritting one's teeth is still okay. Just now, those pairs of eyes in the night revealed a defiant, untamed wildness, as if they were constantly seeking, waiting for the next prey, leaving no doubt they would spring out their claws and point them at you in the next moment.

Zheng Tan lay on the car roof. Watching the cats gathering around the spotted cat, they lunged toward the person struggling on the ground. That person had his mouth sealed, unable to speak; Zheng Tan knew from the grunts coming from his nose that this person was truly terrified, terrified to the extreme.

Compared to the many purebred pet cats in the city center, the cats here in the suburbs are generally more wild, playing daily in the fields and wild grass, fighting with other small creatures of the countryside—how could they be well-behaved? Moreover, there are some true feral cats among them; when they turn fierce, there's no saying more.

Some relatively timid cats prowled the periphery, occasionally seizing a chance to swipe a paw under the influence of other cats. Meanwhile, the bolder, more aggressive cats followed the spotted cat in lunging at that person; some cats acted like constables— the more they were kicked back, the braver they became, getting up again to rush forward, biting and scratching.

Er Mao rubbed his goosebumps inside the car, rolling the windows up a bit more, fearing those cats would rush in.

After all, these cats haven't been trained; most are just house cats, unaware of where human vital points are, their attack strength limited, and perhaps some merely treat this as a game, like playing with cat toys. The person on the ground deliberately curled himself up; injury doesn't matter, what matters is protecting his life.

The ones that bite fiercely are also that flower cat and a relatively fierce wild cat.

Er Mao watched the time and the situation over there; he didn't intend to let this person die here, so he had to keep an eye on things.

As for Zheng Tan, he is learning, from that flower cat's calls, to discern which ones are causing the current situation, which can affect a cat's mood, and how to mobilize a cat's mood. Cats nowadays are not considered gregarious animals, but they are not absolutely solitary either, after all they have infiltrated human society; there are many people keeping cats around, and every time you go out you can encounter quite a few cats, most of which coexist peacefully. If, one were to gather all the cats of Chu Hua University together, what would that be like?

Just thinking about it makes one a little excited.

However, this is not an easy skill; perhaps even after a cat's life ends Zheng Tan may never learn it. As a being with a cat's body and a human's heart, compared to a real cat, Zheng Tan faces greater obstacles. But if his learning ability and comprehension are strong, Zheng Tan believes he still has a chance.

When Er Mao called for a stop, the flower cat already had quite a bit of blood on it; hearing Er Mao's shout, it reluctantly responded, but eventually it retreated, walking to the side of the car to lick its fur. Without the flower cat, the other cats gradually stopped, scattering around to lick their paws; the wild cat, seeing Er Mao approach, ran off, presumably thinking this person was not easy to deal with.

The person on the ground had his clothes and trousers turned into bloody rags, his hands and face scratched full of blood marks. Curled up there, unmoving, only a slight rise and fall indicated he was still alive; urine and blood on the ground had mixed into a puddle.

Although the flower cat becomes fierce when angry, it still listens fairly well to Er Mao; after getting in the car it returned to its previous docility, and if it weren't still stained with human blood, its gentle appearance would be more convincing.

That person, already covered in blood, was shoved by Er Mao into the trunk; Er Mao said he would handle the rest, guaranteeing that Zheng Tan and the flower cat would never see that person again, though it didn't seem like he truly intended to kill and silence them.

When the car drove back to the rear side gate of Dongqu Dayuan at Chu Hua University, Zheng Tan got out and went home; the flower cat remained with eyes closed, crouched in the back seat, showing no intention of getting out. Er Mao tried to shoo it away twice without success, so he let it be.

Zheng Tan stood at the courtyard gate, glanced at a small grove not far away, twitched his ears—the sergeant was again fighting with the cats from the western district; hearing their cries during the fight, the sergeant didn't seem like he was about to lose, so Zheng Tan felt reassured and jogged home. (To be continued...)

ps: (2.28)