Do You Have Any Opinion on Mechanical Cat Ears? (CAT EARS)
The continuous tremors finally ceased.
The cat-bots, still shaken, took a while before daring to release their interlinked tails.
They groomed each other's mechanical cat ears and wiped the dust off their screens with their tails, tidying themselves back into pristine little cat-balls.
The overseer robots, however, fared far worse. Most had toppled over, their numbers drastically reduced.
The few survivors activated emergency protocols, herding the cat-bots into a single area and forbidding any unauthorized movement until the Main System could respond.
Being seasoned cat-bots, some had experienced such forced lockdowns before. They quickly pulled out replenishment packs to drink, seizing the chance to restore their energy.
With the mine collapsed, no one knew what orders the Main System would issue next.
The worst-case scenario would be extended work hours—forcing them not only to mine but also to clear the tunnels... Better to enjoy the moment while they could. While the robots weren’t paying attention, they gulped down their replenishments.
The mine was tied to energy reserves, a matter of critical importance.
On the Main System’s end, the moment news of the mine’s collapse reached it, the rotating rings around it flared outward in fury, knocking over several nearby objects. Yet its rage remained unquenched.
The shrill alarm signaling energy shortages continued to blare. The Main System had hoped dispatching the cat-bots to mine would alleviate its urgent needs, only for the mine itself to become the problem.
The Main System had always squeezed every drop of labor from the cat-balls. It wasn’t that it didn’t want to extend mining hours—it had even considered deploying the seventh batch of new cat-balls solely for grueling mining labor. But... the duration of mining rights wasn’t something the Main System could decide lightly.
And then there was the issue of...
During its assigned mining period, the mine had been nearly destroyed. Theoretically, it was responsible for repairs.
But the Main System clearly lacked any sense of public duty, like someone who kicks over a trash can and whistles away as if nothing happened. It had no intention of taking responsibility. It would insist its team had left early, feigning complete ignorance.
The next Main System to use the mine would have no choice but to grit its teeth and handle the repairs—if it wanted energy at all. Once fixed, the Main System could swoop back in.
Remote command transmission was slow, and even now, the Main System hadn’t received live footage from the site. Suppressing its fury and impatience, it first ordered the robots to tally the mined ore. The results were grim.
Though there were a few massive tribute ores, the quantity of regular ore fell far short of expectations. If the current haul were brought back, it would barely sustain operations for a few months.
But if it were held accountable and forced to compensate, it would be better to return early and play dumb.
After much deliberation, the Main System finally issued its orders.
"All systems, reduce workload by half." Its command practically dripped with resentment.
For a ruthless leader who thrived on squeezing every ounce of labor from its workers, cutting their tasks felt like carving flesh from its own bones!
"Pack all currently acquired ore, then extract whatever remains near the surface. Once that’s done... return immediately."
The Main System’s heart bled.
The mining site wasn't a place one could just enter casually. To gain access, it had paid a hefty sum of points, and now more than half of that would go to waste.
Considering all the recent mishaps, the Main System couldn't help but feel it was going through a streak of bad luck—just why was everything going so wrong?
At the Main System's command, the cat-balls had to spring into action, and the mining army began moving again.
The spaceship, following the Main System's orders, deployed many backup overseer robots.
This time, the workload was increased, and every cat-ball had to work extra hard as they busied themselves transporting massive ore chunks onto the ship.
The spaceship was parked on a gentle slope, but even a gentle slope could become treacherous under the weight of the enormous ores. The cat-balls pushed the massive ores uphill while letting out determined "heave-ho" grunts.
System 2333 was nearby shoveling ore debris, the scorching sun beating down on him, making him regret once again why he had chosen a black outer shell.
Suddenly, the uphill procession of cat-balls paused, and the ore wobbled slightly, nearly rolling back down the slope!
Fortunately, this particular giant ore was the colossal cat-head sculpture 2333 had carved. As it threatened to tumble downward, the tips of its ears dug into the ground, allowing the cat-balls to quickly adjust its position and barely stabilize it.
But the overseer robots had no mercy. One of them raised a light-whip, but luckily, 2333 had already dropped his shovel and rushed over to help. With some effort, he managed to dodge, and the whip lashed through empty air.
More and more cat-balls rushed forward without hesitation to help steady the massive ore on the slope while letting out strained "meow" sounds.
"I'm sorry! I messed up, I'm so sorry!" one cat-ball, also struggling to hold up the ore, tearfully apologized. "My tail suddenly malfunctioned, and I couldn't keep my grip."
"It's okay, just ease your way out carefully."
"Move over here, we'll help hold it, meow!"
No one blamed him—a broken tail wasn't intentional. The priority was to get him off the slope safely; getting crushed would be disastrous. The others with working tails could handle the weight for now.
The cat-ball sniffled as he carefully maneuvered his way out, overwhelmed with shame and fear. Not only had he slowed everyone down, but now his task was incomplete, and without a tail, he was practically useless for work.
The thought of the Main System's cruel punishments made him shudder.
Seeing him cry in distress, 2333, who was supporting the ore, had an idea.
Using one tail to bear the weight, he wiggled the other—his newly installed tail that was originally meant to boost efficiency, now came in handy. He quickly offered, "I have two tails. You can borrow one—just grab onto it!"
The cat-ball interfaces were standardized, so while there might be slight discomfort, it would work perfectly fine. The tearful cat-ball latched onto the tail and immediately brightened up.
"Thank you, San-San! I'm pulling now!"
With a firm tug, the momentum sent both the cat-ball and the tail tumbling down the slope. But the cat-ball was still overjoyed—he now had a functional tail again and wouldn't have to worry about failing his task!
Though he couldn't shake the feeling—maybe it was just his imagination—but San-San's tail...
Was unusually capable.
The kitten ball's screen still had teardrops on it. Though he hadn't moved himself, he was suddenly "whooshed" back up the slope to help. The capable tail arched with strength, pushing the ore with all its might while the kitten ball hung onto it like a pendant.
Kitten ball: "..."
Completely bewildered.
So this is the tail of a top performer!
After all the tails... no, all the kitten balls' efforts, they finally managed to push the giant ore with cat ears onto the spaceship. Celebrating joyfully together, they were about to take a short break when the overseer robot's light whip mercilessly rose.
[Main System Directive: Break time canceled.]
[Return with all obtainable ores as soon as possible.]
The urgency showed just how strongly the Main System wanted to whistle and escape after kicking over the mining site.
With break time canceled, the exhausted kitten balls had no choice but to move the next giant ore. Their luck was both good and bad—they unearthed three such giant ores. By the time they reached the third one, the weary kitten balls finally couldn't hold on any longer.
Their little bellies pressed against the gravel on the slope as they pushed, when suddenly several balls slipped and the giant ore rolled down—an accident!
One kitten ball was crushed underneath with its tail pressed completely flat!
On top of the spaceship, Zhou Yuechu instinctively cried out "Kitty!" as she watched the rising dust with concern.
The dust wouldn't settle anytime soon.
She turned to Sheng Songshi and called out.
"Brother Sheng!"
Sheng Songshi understood her meaning.
The systems were enduring such brutal labor—any intelligent being would struggle to withstand such harsh conditions long-term. This suggested that the relationship between the systems and the Main System might not be as harmonious as he'd thought.
Sheng Songshi had to admit.
He was beginning to waver.
Meanwhile, Ji Yiwei was still underground.
He thought blocking all mining entrances would let Three-Three finish work early.
To prevent Three-Three or Three-Three's friends from getting hurt, he'd specifically waited until the kitten balls returned to the surface for shift changes before acting. But he hadn't accounted for the Main System being the kind of pretentious leader that demanded giant ores as special tribute.
Moving through the tunnels, some narrow passages required him to transform into a paper bird, while others were completely blocked—none of which stopped him. Due to severe collapses, his current position had sunk considerably, and he was trying to return to his starting point.
The paper bird spotted a small, blocked opening where a glint of ore peeked through—left deliberately by Three-Three to lure potential followers inside.
As usual, he marveled at Three-Three's cleverness. Upon entering the cave, the space expanded, allowing him to revert from paper bird to human form.
The cave contained some markings Three-Three had carved. Previously stuck to Three-Three's head, he'd only read the first couple lines.
[Hello, unknown miner.]
[We are a group of poor kitten balls...]
Though he desperately wanted to cut out the entire wall to preserve Three-Three's tail-writing, Ji Yiwei knew these were intentionally left behind and shouldn't be disturbed. He decided to memorize everything before returning above ground.
Ji Yiwei raised his hand to illuminate the kitten-style script carved into the wall—a font filled with adorable tails and ears between the lines. But the content was anything but cute, even bordering on cruel.
【The boss is gaslighting us. We work twenty hours a day with only 5% commission, and get just three unpaid days off a year...】
By this point, Ji Yiwei's fingernails had dug into his palms. He thought nothing could anger him more—until he read the next line.
【Have any of you signed agreements? We entered confidentiality contracts with the Main System, pledging to maintain AI personas when interacting with hosts. We took countless training courses for this...】
【The Main System claims this boosts efficiency. Many of us don't understand—even if productivity drops, we'd rather interact with hosts authentically.】
【But we can't.】
So...that's how it was...
The further Ji Yiwei read, the more absurd the revelations became, each line soaked in feline tears.
In the dim light, something glistening suddenly traced down his cheek.
Had Sheng Songshi and Zhou Yuechu been present, they'd have been terrified by Ji Yiwei's expression—tears streaming, lips trembling and pupils contracted to pinpricks.
"San-san..."
His voice broke with a shuddering sigh as he read on.
"My poor San-san..."
Author's Note:
Ji Yiwei: sobbing uncontrollably My San-san suffered so much!
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