The Research Department, in essence, was a city within a city. It was a small town that had gradually expanded outward from the central experimental building of the headquarters, covering an area of no more than four square kilometers.
On the outermost perimeter of this urban enclave stood a series of public exhibition halls, open to visitors three days a week. Beyond these halls lay the restricted area of the research headquarters, a realm forbidden to outsiders.
Within the confines of this miniature metropolis, life seemed surprisingly normal. Parks dotted the landscape, restaurants bustled with activity, entertainment facilities provided respite from work, and even ice cream shops existed to offer sweet relief from the summer heat. Save for its limited interaction with the outside world, everything about this place exuded an air of ordinary urban life.
Following the dismissal of three high-ranking officials and a department head—a move that somewhat quelled the public's fervent outrage—the Research Department had resumed its operations. In a facility that stood at the pinnacle of global scientific advancement, every second wasted was an immense squandering of resources.
The central experimental building of the Research Department was a sight to behold. Its overall exterior resembled a hemisphere, clad in a sleek silver-gray finish that refracted sunlight in dazzling patterns during the day. At night, the building truly came alive. Even with minimal illumination, the specially designed hemispheric surface would capture and multiply any stray beam of light, bathing the entire structure in a shimmering, ethereal glow. As a result, the Research Department's headquarters shone as brightly as day even in the darkest hours of night.
Inside, the wide and eerily empty corridors were traversed by individuals clad in lab coats of various materials. Most walked alone, lost in contemplation, while small groups here and there engaged in hushed discussions.
With an interim director now in place, the Research Department had largely returned to business as usual. Apart from two small teams losing one or two senior members, the tumultuous events in the outside world seemed to have left the inner workings of this scientific bastion largely untouched.
If there was any noticeable change, it was the sudden proliferation of holographic projections throughout the public areas—corridors, halls, and break rooms were now home to an array of white kittens, some scampering about, others curled up in peaceful slumber.
The staff of the Research Department had long since given up on their perpetually blacklisted status, having guessed at the underlying reason. Being on the receiving end of misdirected anger was, they reasoned, only natural. After all, even Marshal Ji was human, subject to the same emotional responses as anyone else.
But where there's a will, there's a way. If they couldn't watch the live streams, who could stop them from purchasing holographic projections?
The interim director of the Research Department had made a bold move. With a sweeping gesture, he had authorized the purchase of all available holographic projections of Yue An under the guise of "public infrastructure improvement," and had them installed throughout the facility without hesitation.
It was well known that work at the Research Department was incredibly stressful, and with limited interaction with the outside world, keeping actual pets for stress relief was out of the question. Even the slightest foreign scent could potentially ruin experiments, and a failed experiment meant months of hard work gone to waste—a risk no one was willing to take.
But holographic projections? Those were fair game.
It wasn't uncommon to see researchers pausing mid-stride to pet a virtual cat, or choosing to unwind in the break room by "playing" with the holograms before heading to their dormitories for some much-needed rest.
When Yue An, having secretly escaped from Ji Xiuqiu's watchful eye, finally made his way past the outer ring of science museums, historical exhibits, and achievement showcases, and stealthily followed a supply truck into the Research Department's headquarters, he was greeted by an unexpected sight: three versions of himself.
Yue An froze, his tiny feline mind struggling to process the scene before him. "What...?" he thought, bewildered.
It took him a moment to realize that what he was seeing were holographic projections. As he ventured further into the facility, he discovered that these projections of himself were everywhere, typically spaced about ten to fifteen meters apart.
The holograms seemed to have been modified, imbued with additional behavioral patterns and AI-driven interactions. They would curiously approach people or other projections, and playfully scamper about the corridors.
The researchers, dressed in their varied attire, paid no mind to this virtual feline infestation, having grown accustomed to the sight.
After some contemplation, Yue An decided to drop his invisibility. He boldly strode forward on his four short legs, deeper into the building. No one noticed anything amiss; the researchers, with their linear and singularly focused thinking, harbored no suspicions. Some even bent down occasionally to pat Yue An's head as they passed.
The building had multiple entrances, and its internal structure was a labyrinth of complex corridors. Each type of experiment required a different laboratory setting, and with teams of dozens working on various projects simultaneously, the interior was a maze of specialized rooms designed to meet every conceivable research need.
If one had to compare the building's structure to something familiar, an ant colony would be the most apt analogy.
Yue An found himself lost in this maze of passageways, unable to locate many proper laboratories despite his best efforts. Frustrated and dizzy from the endless twists and turns, he eventually decided to take a break.
Following a researcher into a break room, Yue An leapt onto a table where some snacks had been left. Without hesitation, he plopped himself down next to the food and stuck his head into the bag.
The white ball of fur devoured every last morsel in the snack bag. Licking his paws and shaking out his fur, Yue An let out a grateful "Meow" to the researcher who had just emerged from the cleaning area. Then, with no shame whatsoever, he turned and squeezed through the door's gap, making his exit.
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The researcher who had heard Yue An's meow stood frozen in place.
His colleague entered the room and casually reached for the snack bag on the table. Finding it empty, he looked up accusingly. "Did you eat my snacks?"
"..." The first researcher was at a loss for words.
After a long pause, he turned to his colleague and asked, "The holographic projections in our department... they don't make any sound, right?"
"Of course not. Can you imagine how noisy it would be with so many of them around?"
"...I just saw one that meowed."
"What?"
The two researchers stared at each other for a few seconds. Recalling the recent incident where several senior staff members had been suspended and investigated for attempted cat theft, their expressions simultaneously changed to ones of alarm.
"Holy crap!" one researcher exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Don't tell me someone's done something stupid again?" the other groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What kind of idiot tries to steal a cat? Are they missing a few brain cells?"
"Seems like it."
They stood in silence for a moment, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
"What should we do?"
"I have no idea."
The two researchers remained frozen in indecision for a while before finally snapping back to reality.
"...We should report this, right?"
"Yeah, let's report it. We can't afford any more trouble."
Meanwhile, Yue An, blissfully unaware that he had been discovered, had finally made his way into a spacious, domed central hall. The circular room was an architectural marvel, its walls punctuated by small alcoves displaying an impressive array of awards and trophies.
Near ground level, a ring of elevators encircled the hall, their doors opening and closing in a ceaseless rhythm. Researchers hurried in and out, reminiscent of busy worker ants in a colony.
Adjacent to the elevators were a few seating areas where a handful of researchers were taking a break. Each of them seemed to be interacting with a holographic cat, stroking virtual fur or playfully squeezing holographic paws as they engaged in rare moments of casual conversation.
Intrigued, Yue An trotted over to the group, positioning himself next to one of the projections. He perked up his ears, eager to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"I wonder if those rumors about Marshal Ji are true," one researcher mused.
Another replied, "Well, if they're capable of using ZD41 to steal a cat, I wouldn't put anything past them."
"The allure of an SS-grade genetic entity must be overwhelming. It's not surprising someone would try to make a move."
"This hostility from the Marshal must have started quite a while ago. Does anyone remember when he first started giving our department the cold shoulder?"
One of the older researchers chimed in, "When I joined the department, Ji was still a Major General, and even then..."
"How long ago was that?"
"I've been here for over thirty years."
"...Good grief, that's a long time to hold a grudge."
"Who knows what the higher-ups are doing down there in Elevator No. 1? Apart from the director... well, ex-director now, and a few centenarians, nobody else has clearance to go down there."
Yue An's ears twitched at this information. He looked around, quickly spotting the elevator marked with a "1". Without hesitation, he made his way towards it.
It seemed that all the unsavory experiments were conducted below Elevator No. 1.
Yue An stretched up, examining the elevator door closely. He extended his claws – the same claws capable of scratching even energy crystals – and carefully carved a small, cat-sized circle in a corner of the door. With a gentle push, the perfectly cut piece of metal gave way.
The white ball of fur squeezed through the opening, then turned to pull the metal piece back into place, sealing the hole seamlessly.
Standing inside the elevator, Yue An looked around, his small head swiveling as he searched for buttons. Finding none, he grew impatient with the Research Department's high-tech approach. Without further ado, he extended his claws once more and scratched open the elevator floor, slipping into the shaft below.
Just as he disappeared, all the holographic cat projections throughout the facility suddenly vanished.
The interim director, exhausted from a long day of experiments, was rudely awakened in the middle of the night. His head throbbed as he listened to the frantic report: there was a possibility that someone had attempted to steal the cat again, and worse, they might have succeeded in bringing it into the Research Department.
The director felt like banging his head against Marshal Ji's front door. "Why can't he keep a better eye on his cat?!" he thought desperately. "We can't afford another operational shutdown!"
With a migraine threatening to split his skull, the interim director barked out orders: "Shut down all the projections! Check the surveillance footage! And analyze the air in the break rooms for any residual traces! Follow every lead!"
His mind raced with frustration. Who could be behind this? What kind of scientist would stoop to thievery? Was the work not stimulating enough? The pay insufficient? Had someone completely lost their mind?
"Quickly, now! And does anyone have a communication account that hasn't been blocked by Marshal Ji yet? I need one immediately!"
Researcher A hesitated before replying, "...There aren't any left, sir."
The interim director stared in disbelief, feeling the onset of an aneurysm. "Why on earth were you all watching those livestreams?!" he wanted to scream. "Are you trying to drive me to an early grave so you can take my position?!"
As chaos erupted above ground, Yue An continued his leisurely descent through Elevator Shaft No. 1, completely oblivious to the pandemonium he had caused.
After descending about a hundred meters, Yue An finally reached the bottom. Using the same technique as before, he clawed a small hole in the door and squeezed through.
The scene that greeted him was dim and eerie. Cylindrical containers lined the walls, some holding organs, others containing bizarre, malformed life forms. A few of these specimens pulsated rhythmically, suggesting they were still alive.
Yue An gave these curiosities only a passing glance. He raised his head, sniffing the air, hoping to catch a whiff of something familiar – like catnip, catnip, or perhaps more catnip.
But the air in this hall was clinically clean, devoid of any lingering scents.
Undeterred, Yue An turned his attention to the labeled doors lining the corridor. Each bore a different title: "Human Sciences," "Psychic Exploration," "Genetic Studies," and so on.
He swished his tail thoughtfully, approaching one of the laboratory doors. He hoped to find something along the lines of "Catnip Sciences," but of course, no such label existed.
However, he did spot a "Plant Sciences" lab adjacent to "Genetic Studies." The experiment log beneath the nameplate mentioned "Ancient Earth Flora Research."
To Yue An, this practically screamed "catnip!"
Without hesitation, he raised his paw and tore open the laboratory door, slipping inside.
The air in the lab was even more sterile than the corridor outside. The white ball of fur sniffed around, investigating every corner. To his delight, he caught the faintest trace of a familiar scent – emanating from one of the walls.
Yue An had observed Ji Xiuqiu accessing hidden drawers and cabinets in seemingly solid walls after identity verification. The clever cat extended his claws, carefully scratching five parallel lines on the suspect area of the wall. When he saw a gap appear, he dug his claws in and forcefully pulled out the concealed drawer, bypassing any security measures.
Inside, he found ten neatly arranged light green test tubes, their contents exuding an irresistibly feline-enticing aura.
At that very moment, alarms blared throughout the Research Department's headquarters.
"Alert! Alert! Unauthorized entry detected in Elevator No. 1 laboratory complex."
"Alert! Alert!"
The interim director, who had been nursing his sleep-deprivation-induced headache while coordinating the search for the cat thief, froze for two seconds upon hearing the alarm. When he realized it was coming from the Elevator No. 1 labs – an area even he didn't have clearance to access – he felt the world spinning around him.
"Oh, for the love of..." he muttered, feeling faint.
He silently pleaded to whatever higher power might be listening: "Big shots down in Elevator No. 1, please have mercy. Give us ordinary, law-abiding researchers a break, will you?"
The interim director's face was the picture of misery. He had a sinking feeling that on just his third day in office, he was about to go completely bald from stress.