Although Bai Meow had grown up in the royal palace and been drilled in all kinds of etiquette, she barely followed any of it herself.

If you had to put it this way:

A well-mannered princess is like a noble Persian cat, every movement radiating that “aristocrat among cats” aura.

Then by that standard, every move Bai Meow made was like a stray cat’s—wild, carefree, utterly unrestrained.

Maybe it was the relaxed atmosphere in the room. Ever since Bai Meow moved in here, she’d taken the last trace of etiquette knowledge in her mind, wrapped it up, and tossed it straight into the trash.

You could tell from one simple thing:

No matter how weird Orange Cat’s movements were, at least he was still using his paws instead of his palms, throwing the dice in a “proper” way.

But this little loli Bai Meow? She’d turned rolling dice into a performance art.

Who had ever heard of putting the die on the tip of your nose, giving your head a little shake, and tossing it out that way?

Who had ever heard of swinging your tail around in front of you, using the die as a ball and your tail as the racket, then batting it out?

And that’s not even mentioning:

Using those soft, tiny feet instead of hands, lightly stepping on the die to casually send it flying.

Watching the princess pull all these improper moves, Orange Cat started doubting the loyalty of his subordinates (the cat horde).

“Meow meow? (That’s not right. Didn’t the little ones say this princess was gentle and soft? Why is she wilder than me?)”

His Majesty the Orange Cat, feline emperor, obviously didn’t understand:

This was an era that worshiped looks. Felines weren’t exempt.

Sure, his underlings had given him some basic info about Bai Meow, and yes, they did say “very soft and cuddly.” But what they meant was:

Her healing-type face, and that petite “soft voice, soft body, easy to push over” appearance.

To Orange Cat, personality might matter more than looks. But to the cat horde, “appearance beats personality” was absolute truth.

Before Orange Cat could snap out of his confusion, some time passed.

During that time, Bai Meow had already started her next roll.

She rolled a 6. After getting used to the rules, she calmly moved her piece forward twelve spaces.

Wang Xiaole had been wanting to ask about this since just now.

He’d waited only because he was worried Bai Meow couldn’t recognize human numerals.

But after carefully watching her a few times, the girl realized the little loli across from her didn’t have trouble reading the pips at all.

It was the opposite: Bai Meow recognized human numbers just fine.

She was looking at the number on the die first, then doubling it in her head, and moving her piece twice the normal distance.

At this “2x speed,” Bai Meow’s gameplay had basically shifted from simple “buying and selling property” to “a world tour around the map.”

Yep, a trip that started the second she felt like going.

As she sighed over “how beautiful childhood is,” Wang Xiaole finally couldn’t hold it back.

“Bai Meow, are you holding some kind of ‘die only smart people can see’ in your hand?”

Bai Meow shook her head.

“No? Then how come, from what I’ve been seeing, the number of spaces you move every turn looks like the sum of two dice?”

“......”

“Don’t tell me your explanation is: ‘Because I’m beastkin, my movement speed each turn is naturally twice that of normal players’?”

At the same time she nodded, the little loli awkwardly propped her hands on her tiny waist, shyly showing off a hint of racial superiority.

Wang Xiaole summed things up:

Lucia was the “True Love Player” who treated prison walls like they didn’t even exist.

Bai Meow was the “Super Player” who moved twice per turn and treated “traveling around the map” as the main goal.

“What about you? Got anything special?”

Wang Xiaole stared at Orange Cat without blinking. The cat straightened his tail, raised his head, spread his front paws wide, as if declaring on the spot:

“I am the royal-blooded player who rules the world!”

In that unguarded moment, Wang Xiaole suddenly realized:

Out of all four players here, he was the only one totally ordinary, a “commoner” with no title and no special perks.

It was like:

A party formed in an online game, four members total, and three of them were pay-to-win whales. As for the last one… no need to spell it out.

And under those conditions, how was he supposed to “enjoy” the game—Wang Xiaole swallowed that line back down.

He was the one who suggested playing Monopoly in the first place. If he started complaining now, he’d just look petty.

No point hesitating. Just keep playing.

He comforted himself:

I’m the only guy in this whole room anyway. Giving in a little to the three ladies around me isn’t that big a deal.

Thud.

He rolled the die and moved his piece according to the number shown.

When his fingers finally stopped and he put the token down on the board, he noticed something:

He’d landed at the entrance to the Court.

According to the rules, anyone who entered this spot couldn’t just walk past. They had to pick someone to accuse.

Staaare—

He looked around. Three people and one cat fell into a deadlock of “big eyes staring at small eyes, small eyes staring at cat eyes.”

The atmosphere in the room wasn’t just “awkward.” It was very awkward.

Who to sue—that was the question.

If Wang Xiaole were online right now, playing with three strangers he didn’t know, he could accuse whoever he wanted without a second thought.

But these were people he lived with.

They literally slept under the same roof. Shared the same bed. They were that familiar.

In a situation like this, picking a fight with anyone could hurt feelings.

He thought it over and decided to start with the one who was easiest to talk to.

“Xia!”

Lucia’s shoulders trembled slightly when her name was called.

The instant their gazes met, her big watery eyes half-closed.

Holding down the two “towering peaks” that were about to burst out of her clothes, she spoke with tragic sorrow, her chest giving the tiniest bounce as she moved.

“Dear! After all the storms we’ve gone through together—” (definitely less than a month) “—why would you do this to me?”

“What… did I do wrong?”

Wang Xiaole tilted his head back, rubbed his sore eyes, and asked in confusion.

“No, of course you did nothing wrong, my dear! The one at fault… is me. I thought that with how close we are, we’d make the perfect teammates, hand in hand through this game world, facing danger together…”

“Hold it. This is an elimination game. There is no such thing as ‘teammates.’”

It wasn’t “like” she didn’t hear. Lucia straight-up ignored the explanation, and just kept acting out her tragic drama.

“Waaah, who would’ve thought that in my beloved’s eyes, his virtuous wife—” (self-proclaimed) “—is nothing but a stepping stone to be sacrificed for victory. Oh, heavens!”

“Stop. I’m not suing you anymore. Let’s drop it.”

She sniffed once, and whatever tears Lucia had been about to shed were instantly withdrawn, completely “recycled” in the blink of an eye.

Getting nowhere with the “easiest to talk to” one (question mark very necessary), Wang Xiaole could only move on to the next target.

“Bai Meow…”

But after calling her name, the words that were supposed to follow just refused to come out.

Right in front of him was a pitiful little face.

Her eyes were as clear as a summer spring, untouched by any of the world’s impurities, reflecting nothing but the purest innocence of a girl.

Bai Meow didn’t say a word, but her expression was doing all the talking, full of silent grievance.

“Big brother, can you really be this heartless?”

“Big brother, just for an empty victory, are you really going to do something so cruel?”

“Big brother!”

Lolis as a species came with natural immunity to all physical attacks, and a passive that softened even the hardest, coldest hearts.

Under that silent gaze, Wang Xiaole went down without a fight.

Staring at that face, those eyes, he was thoroughly enlightened, lowering his head to stare at his own filthy hands.

He couldn’t help but ask himself:

What was I about to do?

How could I even think of accusing a little girl? That’d be worse than an animal.

Unable to stand it, he let both the older girl and the little girl off the hook and, helpless, turned to the final target.

This time, he didn’t even need the party in question to speak; the party in question—cat—made the first move.

Orange Cat stretched his lazy limbs, then, with textbook catwalk swagger, headed from the room to the balcony and hopped up onto the railing in one smooth motion.

Right now, all four paws were staggered along the slick railing.

As a cat, his balance was flawless—as long as he actually wanted to stay balanced.

“Meow meow meow! (My dear friend, if you dare betray our friendship and shamelessly accuse me, I’ll jump from this towering height—” (second floor) “—right now!)”

They said cats had nine lives.

But that might not apply to cats in another world. And besides, Wang Xiaole couldn’t guarantee that:

The life Orange Cat was using right now wasn’t his last.

So there was only one option left.

Under Orange Cat’s “I’ll die to prove my point” threat, Wang Xiaole ended up overturning the game’s rules and adding a special clause:

If there were four players in the same room, then when one of them entered the Court, aside from accusing the other three, they also had the option to:

Accuse themselves—like a one-man split personality act.

Of his own free will, Wang Xiaole chose to go to jail for three turns.

By the time the game reached this point, the conclusion was obvious:

This game was seriously unbalanced. Calling it “free play” was generous; it was basically one man’s struggle against fate.

Given all the constraints he was under, no wonder that when the game finally ended—right as Cai came back from outside—Wang Xiaole threw himself at her and clung to her.

“Society’s going downhill. Even playing a game is this hard now!”

Cai looked at the clothes she was wearing, currently being used by Wang Xiaole as a face towel, and couldn’t help tilting her head, mumbling softly:

“What happened? Why do I feel like… I came back way too late?”