The System Mistook Me for a Cat-Chapter 190

"Um... I'm going to Antarctica. These two months are summer in Antarctica, so the weather won't be too cold. I'll be accompanied by a professor from the university, which is like an early admission for me," Chu Tingwu paused, "I'll ask Sanwuwu for her opinion. If she agrees, I'll send her to stay with you during the New Year."

The person on the other end of the phone was Teacher Zhang, but the lower half of the screen was blocked by a pair of pitch-black cat ears. Shikuai, seemingly hearing a familiar voice, kept nudging toward the camera, but not even her eyes were visible.

However, through the camera, Chu Tingwu could still see the thick snow on the windowsill.

This year for the New Year, Teacher Zhang and Aunt Mei would be staying in Russia. They were staying at Grandma Narcissa's house, where they had played cards together before, in a city near the Arctic Circle. Perhaps stepping outside, they might even catch a glimpse of the aurora.

Chu Tingwu was also heading to a place with auroras, but the Antarctic Circle was currently experiencing polar day—endless daylight with no nights—so naturally, there would be no chance to see the beautiful auroras.

This year, Chu Tingwu wouldn't be able to spend the New Year with Sanwuwu. Although Sanwuwu could probably take care of herself on the ranch, Chu Tingwu still wanted the cat mom to spend the holiday with familiar people and cats.

Zhou Qiang had already returned to her hometown, and Chu Tingwu was starting to pack her things—

On New Year's Day, she met Professor Mi again. Perhaps because she was a "minor," Professor Mi had specifically arranged for a student to pick her up by car.

They would head to the airport together, transfer flights multiple times, and eventually land at an air force base in Antarctica, then take a vehicle to the research station where they would stay.

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Perhaps because they were heading to Antarctica, the airport security was stricter than usual. When they arrived at the final stop, Saipan Airport, they encountered a cyclone, and the flight was delayed by five hours.

Chu Tingwu decided to perform an instant sleep act and rest in her dream classroom for a while... Then she heard someone trying to strike up a conversation.

"Hello, I'm Takada Shunsuke. My children and I really like your game... No, wait, I mean, hello, my name is Takada Shunsuke. You can call me Takada or Giles. My children love the game you made, and I... no, no..."

—Though, judging by the volume of his voice, it didn't quite meet the standard for a proper conversation.

Chu Tingwu kept her eyes closed, breathing steadily, appearing as if she were asleep or perhaps just pretending. Meanwhile, she listened to the person not far away muttering almost to himself, repeatedly struggling to find the right words for an opening line.

At the same time, she recalled his information in her mind:

Takada Shunsuke, a researcher from Japan, was forty-six years old. He appeared stern and serious, and hadn't done anything unusual during the trip—except for glancing at Chu Tingwu several times.

After all, when they first met, Professor Mi had proudly introduced Chu Tingwu as a "pre-admitted student," even though they weren't actually in a mentor-student relationship. Professor Mi had emphasized Chu Tingwu's "exceptional talent," intelligence, and the fact that she was the youngest member of the research team.

Takada was still practicing his opening line, but his expressionless muttering made it seem like he was cursing something. Chu Tingwu opened her eyes, turned around, and extended her hand:

"Hello, Mr. Takada."

Takada's eyes widened.

Then, he rummaged through his backpack and pulled out two 10cm-tall cute cat plushies. The plushies looked similar, but their outfits were different—one wore a pirate costume, and the other wore pajamas. He respectfully handed them over:

"Hello, Mama Gaogao, could you sign the tags on these plushies for me?"

Chu Tingwu: "...?"

She recognized them—they were fans of the animation "We Live on the Ranch"! These plushies were even limited editions in China, so they shouldn't have been sold in Japan. Therefore, he must have either come to China specifically to buy them or had someone purchase them for him, which couldn't have been easy.

She signed the tag on the Gaogao plushie and noticed that the plushie was as clean as new, and the paper tag didn't have a single crease. After signing, the middle-aged fan, suppressing his excitement, asked, "I heard your company is working on a semi-holographic game related to cats. Will the protagonist be one of the cats from 'Ranch'?"

He sounded like a fan asking if their favorite actor would have a role in a new drama—of course, it would be even better if they were the lead.

Chu Tingwu: "...The protagonist is an original stray cat."

And, due to her personal preference, the cat's appearance was inspired by Sanwuwu—a long-haired tortoiseshell cat, though the color pattern was different.

It was probably impossible to find two tortoiseshell cats with exactly the same color pattern in the world.

Takada looked a bit disappointed but said, "Okay, I'll still support the game. Thank you for making it, and I hope we can play a true holographic game in the future."

Chu Tingwu: "The game probably won't be sold in Japan..."

Since the VR devices were previously only used for live streaming, there were no plans to market them abroad. Now, even though they were being used for games, the accompanying VR devices hadn't yet entered the international market—after all, buying them just to play games without the ability to watch live streams seemed like a waste—so there were no plans to sell them overseas either.

Takada nodded expressionlessly but said, "So, I'll ask my friends in China to help me buy it."

Even if he couldn't play it.

And he planned to buy three sets of related merchandise—one for dark storage, one for display, and one for spreading the word.

Chu Tingwu silently returned to her seat, pretending to rest with her eyes closed... but she felt the gaze from behind growing even more intense.

A few minutes later, Chu Tingwu opened her eyes to see Ms. Monica, the representative from the research team's sponsoring organization, standing in front of her.

She had come to discuss whether they could record VR footage.

After production capacity caught up, the distribution of portable VR viewing devices and VR experience pods had expanded significantly, but the restrictions on VR broadcasting equipment remained strict—real-name verification was mandatory.

For criminals, VR devices could potentially enhance the thrill of committing crimes.

Chu Tingwu knew that on the dark web, someone had posted a hefty bounty for a custom VR video themed around "violence and abuse."

If someone filmed such a VR video, viewers could experience the thrill of inflicting violence on others as if they were there themselves. So, sometimes realism was a double-edged sword—some might see the victim in a video, while others might admire the perpetrator.

Chu Tingwu suggested that such people should watch her free solo rock climbing videos—wasn't legal thrill exciting enough?

Perhaps due to the inability to pass real-name verification, Monica's company hadn't been able to obtain permanent VR broadcasting equipment—they had tried, but when Monica reviewed the research team's roster... she spotted a familiar name: Chu Tingwu.

Monica: "..."

They had been struggling to negotiate with higher-ups for the right to use VR equipment, and here was the CEO of the company right in their team?!

Monica: "We hope to record both regular footage and VR footage simultaneously, to provide more visual material for future research."

VR broadcasting equipment wasn't just for live streaming—it was also incredibly useful for research and education. In China, it had already been widely adopted in these fields, but abroad, they could only watch enviously.

After discussing it with Chu Tingwu personally, and given that it was for scientific purposes, the request was quickly approved. Some members of the research team were visiting Antarctica for the fourth time, and Chu Tingwu listened as Monica talked about the team's mission. She had previously only known that they were studying changes in marine environments and animal ecosystems, but in reality, each team member had their own research focus.

Monica: "We go to Antarctica every year, and every year, I notice that one or two familiar icebergs have disappeared... But looking at the world, it seems like nothing much has changed. Oh—"

She forgot that the person who brought changes to the world—from VR live streaming to semi-holographic games—was right in front of her.

She smiled.

"Some research might require forty or fifty years of observation to yield results, like making a long documentary about this world... There are many documentaries about Antarctica, but I don’t think any of them have captured all of it," Monica said. "So I’m really grateful for the emergence of VR imagery. It allows many people to see Antarctica from another perspective."

From being a no-man’s-land at first, to later having regular cruise tours, to now having VR and various documentaries, the way we explore has evolved.

Even though the cost of exploration hasn’t decreased much, more people can now see this world at a relatively lower price.

Chu Tingwu blinked.

She looked toward the airport gate. The sky was a pure, unblemished white. She said, "The weather has improved a bit. We should be able to take off soon."

Sure enough, half an hour later, airport staff came to notify them to prepare for boarding.

After settling into her seat, Chu Tingwu said to the system, "We can start selling the semi-holographic game overseas."

Unlike live streaming, the content in the game has been thoroughly tested, with no inappropriate elements. However, while the game itself is cheap, the accompanying equipment is expensive. If overseas players want to purchase it—

The system: "Should we let domestic players complete the testing first, make sure there are no remaining bugs, and then sell it abroad two months later?"

Not only would they have to buy a set of equipment, but they’d also have to wait for a while, and the equipment would be more expensive due to tariffs.

Even Chu Tingwu felt this seemed a bit too harsh... She pondered for a moment and said,

"How about we open pre-orders first, and then randomly select a few players who purchased with foreign IPs to invite them to China for the beta test?"

During the time she was moving to a new location, the progress of the stray cat-themed game had also been mostly completed. In a few days, they could indeed start the beta test.

Although the gameplay wasn’t particularly unique, the semi-holographic format meant this beta test would likely make quite a splash.

Such a small matter naturally didn’t require the system to handle it personally. It instructed the company to handle the initial promotion and announce the beta test, selecting six players from foreign IPs.

All players who purchased the pre-order would receive a shopping code. Normally, this code would be white, but if someone’s code turned gold, they would immediately receive an invitation.

The invitation to participate in the beta test would cover everything from airfare to accommodation, all paid for by Wu Voice Group.

The results of the lottery would also be published online.

Netizens: ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‍"..."

[Got it! It’s like the holographic game version of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, right?]

[I just checked the pre-order numbers. An hour ago, it was in the five digits, but after I finished eating, it’s already in the seven digits?!]

[Please, I want to win the golden ticket to the chocolate factory too! I have three cats at home, I’ve triple-liked all of Chu Tingwu’s videos, and I even eat from cat bowls bought on the 365app! Doesn’t that prove something?]

[↑Prove that you’re a weirdo?]

Some players were just voicing their thoughts, while others had already started taking action.

The beta test slots were limited, and while only six were allocated to overseas players... it didn’t hurt to try, right?

Comparing the participation ratios, it might even be easier to win by competing in the foreign players’ pool.

At 6 p.m. on the day the lottery results were announced, people noticed that next to the five major country IPs, there was also a player with an IP from the Republic of Magana, with a garbled username.

Five minutes later, the post was edited, and the player’s name disappeared. The total number of winners was reduced to five.

Players: "..."

They knew it.

Only some non-gamer bystanders were confused: "What’s going on? Was there some shady manipulation?"

The players responded with a knowing air: "No, if it’s the Republic of Magana... that’s completely normal."

Because when purchasing the game on the platform, switching to that IP was the cheapest option!

The person who was just selected was clearly a fellow countryman, and the company found out, so they had to redraw.

Redraw...?

Wu Voice Group announced that night: The IP was indeed switched by a domestic player, which didn’t meet the requirements. However, since the lottery was based on purchases, all prizes were already sealed and couldn’t be redrawn.

So, they contacted the actual user of the Magana Republic IP and asked if they would like to participate in the beta test. The user happily agreed.

The domestic player who switched the IP lost their chance to participate in the beta test, but it was fine—a lucky person from Magana got the opportunity instead!

And they were very grateful!

[...]

[Does anyone know this unlucky person? Can they come out and say a few words? We won’t make fun of them, we’re just really curious...]

[How are they feeling right now?]

Chu Tingwu: "..."

The player’s feelings were unknown, but their Siamese cat was probably not in a good mood.

Because the owner kept frantically sending the company’s lottery account various posed photos of the cat, trying to prove that the game was bought by the cat, that the cat was a foreign cat, and that the cat was good and deserved to play.

Give the cat another chance!

Better yet, let the cat bring its human servant along. After all, the noble Siamese cat needs care, and the servant can even bring their own food—no need to cover travel or accommodation expenses!

Give the cat (and its poor servant) another chance!