RHWHEG -Chapter 46 Third Beta Version

Yu Qunqing quietly took note of both his old and new grudges — he’d settle all the scores when the time came. He could feel his body speaking, but he couldn’t quite hear the words.

Jiang Qiwen continued, “After you deal with the Klein Bottle, you plan to take on that downtown residential area next? Aren’t you being too anxious? Without technological support or shelter capsules, they won’t last long anyway. Fine, if you’re that worried about that defected Level 2, as long as the benefits are worth it, I don’t mind helping you out again.”

“But lately, I’ve only been interested in one person…”

Suddenly, distant cries for help echoed out as waves of people surged forward like a tide.

Yu Qunqing saw many familiar faces.

After so long, Yu Yanlan was back, clutching a box and sprinting wildly. Han Shuzhu, however, was dragging Yu Yanlan right toward their direction. Someone arrived before them, panting heavily as they called out to Jiang Qiwen: “The Klein Bottle broke free from the trap!”

Jiang Qiwen frowned and shoved through the crowd toward the center.

The body Yu Qunqing was in staggered. It felt like an earthquake — people were running in all directions, chaotic and disordered.

“I’m a doctor! Open the perimeter now and let us get the wounded out! Do you want the front-line espers to all die here?!” a bespectacled young man shouted at the commanding officer.

“Anyone who steps outside the perimeter is a deserter!” the commander roared back.

Nearby, a squad of backup special forces ran past, wearing heat-resistant suits. One of them, at the back, had long hair curling from beneath the helmet — glinting gold in the sun.

There were too many familiar faces here…

They were once Yu Qunqing’s teammates — Li Yuebai, still serving dutifully as a doctor, and Tang Qianjiang, who had just awakened his powers.

Yu Qunqing sensed his time here was short. He tried looking around for more information.

But the crowd in front suddenly parted.

A monster, bringing with it the pressure of a thousand armies, charged toward them!

For the first time, Yu Qunqing saw the real Klein Bottle.

Its body was small, yet it radiated a suffocating aura. Eight chaotic legs moved in alternating rhythm, enough to make one’s vision spin. The most terrifying part was its five eyes — identical, pasted-like replicas that had no sense of distance or perspective. No matter the angle, they all looked flat and unblinking. The Cartesian coordinates of the human physical world couldn’t even define its existence.

It was staring right at him!

It was as if the vast cosmos slowly opened a single eye toward him.

The Klein Bottle stepped on the rubble and lunged like a missile into his arms. He was falling, tumbling, sinking — time stretching infinitely into eternity—

“Meow!”

The Klein Bottle roared its fury at humankind.

Yu Qunqing jolted awake on the park bench. The pain of the Klein Bottle slamming into his chest still faintly lingered.

Before the memory faded, he noticed someone in that vision had worn a watch — meaning it happened an hour ago. He had only slept for half an hour. Which meant: the Klein Bottle had failed to break free an hour ago, and sent him its farewell message half an hour ago.

In the distance, his teammates were enthusiastically playing a claw machine game. A few children watched curiously nearby. Lin Luyi insisted on showing off but kept embarrassing himself. The cheerful, peaceful atmosphere was completely different from the battlefield in his memory. This — this was the world Yu Qunqing wanted to protect. He wouldn’t let anyone destroy it.

Ding-dong!

“Disaster Class H – Klein Bottle: data collection progress 75%. ‘Traveling Meow Meow’ now open for third beta test.”

Yu Qunqing: “Wasn’t this game supposed to shut down?”

System: “Maybe the developers want to squeeze out one last bit of cash?”

He opened Traveling Meow Meow. The little cabin was empty; the Klein Bottle-cat hadn’t come home. A new button appeared: Send Mail.

“The thread in a human’s hand, the clothing on a cat’s back — you can mail your kitty once every 24 hours! If it likes your gift, affection will rise and the chance it returns home increases!”

Yu Qunqing pondered for a moment, then opened another game, Penguin Farm, and harvested one Stonefruit Pomelo.

This special fruit grew underground in Flame Farm — its shell was rock-hard, round as a basketball, with only a small opening at the top. Inside, it was juicy and fragrant, often consumed like coconut water.

He cracked open the stem, stuffed in the catnip and dried fish he’d received from sign-ins, and clicked “Send Mail.”

“Transmitting… The Klein Bottle has received your package! Come see its reaction!”

On the screen, in a desolate ruin, a fuzzy mass was trudging along. It didn’t bleed, but barely looked like a cat anymore — just a chaotic clump of fur. Still, anyone could see it was on the brink of death.

Suddenly, it spotted a large stone ahead, carrying the scent of something that could delight a cat’s very soul. It crawled faster, squeezed through the tiny gap easily — after all, a cat was a liquid.

Inside, it found delicious things — fragrant, sweet, and cozy. In that narrow space, the Klein Bottle rediscovered its feline nature and happily curled up.

“HP +1”

appeared above its head.

Outside the pomelo, human footsteps and voices approached.

“Detectors say it’s nearby! Turn over every rock! And remember, spray the liquid nitrogen first!”

“This place is all stone… oh wait, wasn’t this once an old mansion? Can’t even tell— ah! I stepped in a hole— pull me up!”

The humans passed right by the pomelo, never realizing the Klein Bottle was right beneath their feet. They couldn’t even imagine this thing was a fruit.

The black cat’s life would continue a little longer.

“The Klein Bottle is happy! Affection +3!”

Yu Qunqing: Thanks, but that’s not necessary. I just didn’t want the game to end yet.

By now, all the claw machines were emptied by Yu Qunqing’s team. He stored the dolls away, planning to surprise She Lulang later. Then he invited everyone out for afternoon tea at a café — one of everything on the dessert menu.

When She Lulang walked in, the café air froze for a second. Everyone’s eyes darted between the two of them.

She Lulang sat down beside Yu Qunqing.

Lin Luyi whispered, “Don’t you think there’s something… weird between them?”

Dong Changxin nodded. Sun Min accepted a dessert from 060 with both hands, expressing heartfelt thanks.

Yu Qunqing stole a glance at She Lulang. His clothes were neat; it seemed his post-power instability had passed. Relieved, Yu Qunqing got straight to business. “I suspect the suburban shelter plans to move against us.”

Sun Min asked, “Why? We’re all humans. We didn’t even take their resources. They’ve taken in so many civilians — what, just to use them?”

“Do they treat me like a human?” Lin Luyi said coldly. “A bunch of sanctimonious hypocrites. Don’t be so surprised — they probably love the idea of having a group of espers they can hunt openly.”

Dong Changxin said between bites of cake, “Back at our university town, the first student who mutated into a snake — he got injected with something. I remember the logo. It was from Polar Bear Corporation. Could that be connected?”

“Polar Bear Corp. is working with the shelter now,” She Lulang confirmed. “They probably broke off their last partnership with the Ecological Ethics Foundation.”

Sun Min sighed. “What are they even after…”

Everyone focused seriously as they discussed, their earlier awkwardness forgotten.

Yu Qunqing circled a few points on a map, sketching out routes toward the Klein Bottle’s area. Since the shelter was bound to attack them, better to strike first. The neighborhood had already birthed a few elite espers — they just needed to take down the strongest enemy points.

At that moment, a group of researchers came out of Building One, noisy and uneasy. Among them was Anan. Yu Qunqing asked her what happened.

Anan sighed. “The shelter blocked its broadcast channel in our direction. Our neighborhood’s fine for now, but if there are other small shelters nearby… we were going to ask Crocodile Immortal what to do.”

Official shelters broadcast daily updates about disasters, tech developments, terrain changes — vital info for ordinary survivors. Blocking those signals to target Yu Qunqing’s community would be catastrophic for everyone else.

So Yu Qunqing logged into the Crocodile Manager account and typed:

“Increase broadcast power. Transmit information and coordinates daily to nearby areas.”

Those abandoned by the main shelter — they could just come live here instead.

He opened more job positions. The local branch of the Ecological Ethics Foundation, who knew the most about mutations, could handle the info processing. He even appointed special officers to collect reports from exploration teams.

The neighborhood’s economy gained another layer of structure.

Soon, the Crocodile Manager received good news:

The Agricultural Research Institute successfully cultivated a radiation-resistant crop, based on simulated disaster-soil research and Penguin Farm data.

Mass breeding would take time, but the news alone filled the community with joy. Farming meant hope.

The electronics and agriculture departments submitted their daily reports — only the light industry department was left.

They reported that their clothing reconstruction project was going well and that several precision lathes were still stored in the Polytechnic lab building. If those could be recovered, it would be a great help.

Yu Qunqing recalled that he hadn’t crashed into that building and said, “Once our population reaches 1,500, we’ll open the Cargo Express Hub.”

Their neighborhood’s tech level was improving steadily, though still far behind the official shelters.

Because the official shelters had blocked their signal, residents quickly realized the hostility. Most of them were university students, already skeptical of authority — so they naturally declared the shelters as enemies. The sentiment spread fast, and soon even surrounding residents began to feel protective pride for their self-made community.

The local branch of Polar Bear Corp. requested Yu Qunqing’s approval to revive their original business — entertainment. Among them were a few fans of traditional crosstalk comedy, eager to perform on the broadcast. Yu Qunqing gladly approved.

The café buzzed with people coming and going. 060 was tirelessly at work, managing delivery bots and the automated kitchen. She only handled a small portion of serving and cashiering herself. She moved gracefully among the customers, determined to be the best waitress possible.

The sight was so natural that people unconsciously forgot she had once been unable to move — and now, her two fish tails swayed smoothly as she swam through the air.