Chapter 89: Extras Three & Four Part 2

Around this time, Ye Chengxing submitted her resignation. With the Space-Time Bureau demanding regular missions, she could no longer juggle her job here.

Taskers earned reward points upon mission completion, and those points could be redeemed anywhere, with the Space-Time Bureau weaving seamless explanations into reality—whatever was redeemed simply existed as it should.

Li Jia’s identity in this world had been handled the same way: streamlined from her previous one.

Her colleagues were sorry to hear she was leaving, but they understood when they remembered how, after wrapping up her final surgery, she’d collapsed right there on the floor. It had been heart-stopping even for them watching from afar; she’d barely woken up. Their profession was grueling by nature, and for someone like Ye Chengxing, chaining together a dozen or more surgeries was routine.

Prolonged sleep deprivation and exhaustion would break down anyone’s body in the end.

Even so, with her resignation approved, she still had mountains of handover work—details to sort across every front.

And all the while, Li Jia remained away on her missions.

Hers took far longer than Ye Chengxing’s ever had.

Likely because she had to tackle tasks across multiple worlds.

Ever since Li Jia departed, Ye Chengxing had checked in with 999 repeatedly for updates. Each assurance that all was well brought some relief, but beneath the longing lurked an unrelenting worry she couldn’t shake.

Finally, the day she tied up all the loose ends and left the hospital for good, she stepped out into the sunlight.

Her phone chimed before she even reached the car.

Handover notifications had her phone buzzing nonstop lately.

She pulled it out as usual, but the message that popped up first wasn’t work-related. It was the one she’d been hoping for daily from Li Jia.

She dialed back immediately.

It connected in the next instant. “Sister.”

Li Jia’s voice made Ye Chengxing’s taut nerves finally unwind completely.

But something in her tone felt off, prompting Ye Chengxing to press on. “Xiao Li, are you home? Are you hurt?”

She started up the car as she spoke.

There was a brief silence on the line, as if Li Jia were weighing her words. “I’m home… It’s hard to explain over the phone, but all the tasks are done successfully. We can talk details when you get back.”

Those words yanked Ye Chengxing’s heart right back up into her throat, a storm of grim possibilities swirling in her mind.

Hard to explain…

Injured? Or something worse?

She sped home without a second’s delay. Still catching her breath, she flung open the door and called out, “Xiao Li.”

No answer, no sign of her. Ye Chengxing shut the door behind her and headed inside, only to spot Li Jia peeking around the corner. “Sister, you got back so quick.”

Ye Chengxing rushed over at the sound of her voice and swept her into a tight embrace. “…You had me terrified. No response—I thought you’d passed out.”

The worry lingered, so after a quick hug, she pulled back, scanning Li Jia with anxious eyes. “Anywhere on your body feeling off?”

It was only now, with the rush fading, that she noticed something atop Li Jia’s head.

Ye Chengxing paused, then reached up tentatively, wondering if her eyes were playing tricks.

Fluffy white fur. No mistake.

The instant her fingers brushed it, the lovely, plush cat ears quivered, as if to affirm her suspicion.

Li Jia fluttered her lashes, her voice barely above a whisper. “…This is it. No injuries—just a minor mishap.”

As she finished, Ye Chengxing spotted the tail swaying behind her.

Snow-white cat tail, looking impossibly soft to the touch.

She couldn’t help but stroke it.

But barely two passes in, Li Jia went limp against her. “Sister… lighter there…”

Ye Chengxing came to her senses and steadied her, cheeks tinting pink. “Sorry… I reacted on instinct.”

The feel was exquisite, softer than any kitten she’d petted, plush and utterly irresistible—so very cute.

Her fingers curled instinctively, warmth creeping to her earlobes. “But you’re unhurt. That’s what matters.”

Ye Chengxing had heard tales of taskers carrying over residual effects from missions.

This must be Li Jia’s case, tied to whatever world she’d visited.

Musing on it, she gave the soft cat ears another gentle rub and softly inquired about the tasks Li Jia had done lately.

…

By the end of the rundown, Ye Chengxing had the gist.

Only uncertainty was how long the white cat ears and tail would stick around.

Everything else checked out—no injuries—and she relaxed at last.

Cat ears and tail were harmless enough; they’d fade on their own before long.

Extra appendages aside, Li Jia acted much the same, just more cuddly and attached than ever.

The tail gave her away too: eyes shut in repose with a neutral face, yet a joyful wag against skin betrayed her delight—or drooping ears signaled a sad kitten when down.

One change stood out sharpest, though…

Prolonged tail-stroking elicited outsized reactions.

Intimate moments amplified it tenfold.

This version of Li Jia was devastatingly cute, and with Ye Chengxing’s weakness for anything fluffy, resistance was futile. She toyed with the cat ears, dangling the soft feather to tease. “Little Li Cat-Cat, how about calling me Master?”

Ears kneaded, Li Jia merely nuzzled her palm in playful coquetry.

Just banter on Ye Chengxing’s part, but Li Jia obliged for real. The sound sent a flush through her.

Picking up on the embarrassment, Li Jia doubled down, voice clear as she cooed “Master,” tail curling around her waist.

The soft feather—redeemed from the Space-Time Bureau—was all downy fluff.

Fresh from a bath, Li Jia lounged in a loosely knotted robe.

Tail teasing her waist, ticklish and insistent.

Ye Chengxing’s hand closed on the cat tail by reflex.

Li Jia shuddered, knees buckling.

Tug and release left the snowy tip glistening damp.

Eyes flickering, Ye Chengxing halted the feather, then trailed it feather-light across skin.

It sparked a shiver of tingling delight.

Moments later, the feather was sodden.

Her free hand on the tail matched it—tip slick and wet.

She hesitated. “…Want to finish yourself?”

The suggestion stunned Li Jia into stillness, ears wilting.

Yet the tail quivered in obedience.

Irresistibly endearing, Ye Chengxing massaged an ear, claimed her lips in a kiss. “How is our Little Li Cat-Cat this adorable?”

Gripping the tail, she took over fully.

Even casual brushes overwhelmed that sensitive white fluff; deliberate coaxing shattered all restraint.

Climax crashed swifter than ever.

Clock hands marched on.

Ye Chengxing scooped up her boneless, melting Li Cat-Cat.

Bathwater still warm from earlier, but another rinse was in order.

…

Li Jia’s imported cat ears and tail piqued Ye Chengxing’s curiosity about that small world, sight unseen.

So on her next mission pickup, spotting 999 drift by in a haze, she hailed it. “Hey, 999—do you know which small world Xiao Li visited? The one packed with cute kitty folk?”

Caught off guard, 999 dredged its memory. Yep, small worlds full of adorable cats existed.

But… Li Jia’s assignments? Miles from anything that cutesy.

Mouth opening for a reply, it caught Li Jia glancing its way.

A glacial chill flooded the entire system.

It still remembered that day at the Space-Time Bureau, remembered the way Li Jia looked when she logged in after clearing more than a dozen worlds.

999’s initial plan had been to make things as difficult as possible, with absolutely no intention of letting her pass the assessment. The worlds it selected—ones that had already collapsed and desperately needed clearing—were mostly Supernatural Worlds, Horror Thriller Worlds, Infinite Flow Worlds, and Battle Royale Worlds. In short, every one featured settings that demanded life-or-death struggles, dangers so extreme that even teams of battle-hardened taskers couldn’t clear them. It figured a lone Li Jia had zero chance of success.

Worlds like those ought to make her back off and abandon the whole idea.

So it truly hadn’t expected her to actually clear them all and emerge victorious.

The instant it spotted Li Jia at the Space-Time Bureau and their eyes met, 999 almost thought she planned to blow the place sky-high.

In that split second, its mind raced with panic: it was done for. It had personally cultivated a monster. It would have been better to assign her a few peaceful, ordinary worlds.

But Li Jia did nothing of the sort. She simply submitted her mission results and asked in a calm tone, “Where’s the employee contract?”

The more vehemently 999 had refused her before, the more obsequiously it handed over the contract now.

Now, hearing Ye Chengxing’s words, 999 managed a dry laugh. “If you’re interested, I can set that world up as a vacation spot for you sometime…”

Cute kitty? What cute kitty? When Li Jia had emerged, the only things draped across her body were a chain of resentful ghosts—the kind taskers described as capable of wiping out one’s SAN value with a single glance. They clawed and snapped viciously, desperate to devour her soul, only for her to crush them one by one.

Instinct warned 999 not to breathe a word of it, especially since Li Jia was clearly trying to hide the evidence.

Of course, the primary reason was the look she’d just shot its way.

If it dared say anything, the Space-Time Bureau really might end up in ruins.

999 glanced over at Li Jia. Having just finished issuing her little threat, she was now swaying her white cat tail and sidling up to Ye Chengxing, putting on her best spoiled act in hopes of an ear-rub. Its heart slowly crumbled.

Well, how to put it…

No matter how many times it faced her head-on, the terror never faded.

But 999 reflected that Ye Chengxing was pretty terrifying in her own right. To make a being like this play cute right in front of her was no small feat.

Yet their relationship differed from any of the tactics 999 had witnessed taskers employ.

Whether it was returning to their home world only to defy the compulsion and refuse to forget, or suppressing their instincts to submit willingly; whether distrustful to their core yet handing their lifeline over without hesitation.

Any one of those elements left it utterly baffled.

The former bore a heart and thus shouldn’t dwell on past pain. The latter was heartless by nature and incapable of true emotion.

And yet, the scene unfolding before it was undeniable reality.

…Was this the power of love?

999 patted the top of its head.

It decided that this thing called love was truly bizarre.

Sometimes as fragile as a sheet of paper, utterly insignificant. Other times, it could rattle the soul itself—more potent even than death.