In the gleaming corridors of the Animal Sapience Academy at United Stellar University, the floors were polished nanoself-cleaning mirrors. They clearly reflected the orange, waddling bulk of Fat Cat III. He hugged the wall's shadows, padding as silently as his thick paw pads allowed on the cool tiles.
Back when he was Liu Yao, he walked with his head high. But now, this body... forget it. Tilting his head up only exposed his double chin stack; puffing his chest made his potbelly hilariously prominent. Every step felt like a parade of personal failure.
"Well, well! If it isn't our resident 'Negative Bigshot'!"
The voice hit like a poison-tipped needle, straight into Fat Cat's ear. His fur instinctively poofed out before he forced it down. No need to turn around. Gu Yan. Student Council President. Scion of the Scholar-Oligarch Gu Family. He sauntered around the corner, flanked by lackeys, his gaze scanning Fat Cat up and down behind gold-rimmed glasses, a smirk playing on his lips – superficially polite, deeply mocking.
Gu Yan flicked his wrist. A holographic screen materialized in front of Fat Cat. Displayed there? The "Special Hardship Sapience Aid Application." Fat Cat had practically groveled before his smart-assistant to fill it out days ago. Gu Yan's finger tapped hard on the 'Family Assets' section. It read: -9,000,000,000,000 Stellars.
"Nine Trillion in debt?" Gu Yan's voice suddenly projected like a stage actor's, ensuring the entire corridor heard. "That's not 'debt,' Fat Cat, that's 'might-as-well-bankrupt-a-nation'! Bad puns cost money, you know?" He looked around at the gathering crowd and spread his hands wide, like he just couldn't contain the absurdity. "Seriously, guys! This operation is legendary!"
"HA! 'Negative Bigshot'! Perfect!"
"NINE TRILLION?! Selling the whole university wouldn't scratch that!"
"Fat Cat's got jokes!"
Laughter, scalding hot, poured over Fat Cat III. Each word felt like a whip on his nerves. A low, warning growl rumbled in his throat, claws scraping tiles. Visions flooded back: his father clutching his chest, collapsing behind a redwood desk; the holographic projection, its plummeting red curve... ending at that impossible, icy number. Shame and fury boiled inside him like magma, threatening to erupt from his obese frame. He snapped his head up. His amber eyes weren't fearful anymore. They were sharp. Crazed. Cornered.
Gu Yan flinched almost imperceptibly behind his glasses. Then, a wave of cheap protein powder and aggressive testosterone washed over Fat Cat. A massive hand, thick as a bear paw, slammed down on his shoulder with crushing force.
*THUD!*
Fat Cat was slammed straight down onto the cold floor. A puddle of grimy water squelched out from under him – splorch – triggering another wave of stifled giggles.
Zhao Ritian, muscles straining his tank top, glared down. His buzz cut framed eyes like a pit-bull's. "Knock it off, dumb cat," he hissed, leaning close to Fat Cat's wet ear, voice low but ice-cold. "Friday. Old place. Fire rings. You want your pathetic crumbs of a subsidy... or not? Huh?" He punctuated each word by slapping Fat Cat's fleshy cheek – pat-pat-pat – like it was dough.
Fat Cat froze. The pain in his shoulder blade battled the floor's chill. Zhao Ritian's blatant threat was a bucket of ice water, extinguishing his momentary fire. Despair clung to him like soaked fur. The memories surged again: father collapsing, the plummeting red line on the graph, ending at that number! He hated his past weakness, causing his father's death, destroying the family. But being reborn here? In this stumbling, punchline body... what was the point?
A wave of elegant, oppressive perfume cut through the odors. The crowd parted like the Red Sea. Lin Wanwan, impossibly beautiful, glided past like a priceless art exhibit. Her bespoke dress shimmered with starlight, every step calculated. She didn't spare Fat Cat a glance, as if he were dust. But as she passed, the pristine hem of her gown swept precisely over his muddy paw.
"Disgusting."
Two words, light as feathers, dropped like a verdict from her perfect lips. She moved on, trailing whispers of admiration and leaving Fat Cat III's dignity pulverized.
Later - "Cross-Species Collaborative Sociology" Lecture
The massive, holographic amphitheater was packed. A distinguished, silver-furred professor, sporting a vintage monocle, lectured on the challenges and opportunities since the Genetic Equality Act. "...True equality rests on mutual understanding and respecting individual differences, not simply comparing brawn or brains..."
"Professor, apologies for the interruption?" A clear, melodic voice, perfectly pitched for politeness, cut through. Every eye snapped to the front center aisle. Lin Wanwan had raised her hand. Today's silver-white skirt suit made her skin look like porcelain. "Miss Lin?"
"Your mention of 'individual differences' brought to mind... well, an admittedly sensitive, yet highly illustrative example." She turned gracefully, her gaze laser-focused to the very back corner, where an oversized orange body was trying to shrink into invisibility. "We happen to have one such... 'representative' sapience student in our academy. Fat Cat III, correct?"
Hundreds of spotlights seemed to hit Fat Cat. He felt every hair stand on end. Sheer shame screamed at him to phase through the floor.
"Research consistently links Genotype Optimization Grade to societal contribution potential and collaborative efficacy," Lin Wanwan stated coolly, like reciting facts. "Fat Cat's public records list his grade as... D-Minus. Doesn't this inherently render him a 'drag' on efficiency? Might it validate the controversial 'Genotype Determinism' theory? After all," she paused, a ghost of mockery on her lips, "could such a low optimization imply fundamental... impediments... to grasping complex societal rules or controlling primal instincts? Like unchecked appetite leading to morbid obesity? And the consequent sluggishness – both physical and... mental?"
Her words were scalpels, flaying Fat Cat bare. Each sentence sounded reasonable, academic... yet each stabbed his heart.
"I don't..." Fat Cat choked, voice tiny.
"Oh?" Lin Wanwan feigned surprise. "A dissenting view? Perfect. Do enlighten us from your... distinctive perspective. As a D-Minus individual facing academic rigors—say, the upcoming Advanced Energy Matrix Theory midterm—how do you cope? Given your last simulation score was... 7 points?" She dragged out the final words, the number hitting Fat Cat like a sledgehammer.
Low snickers rippled. Fat Cat's face burned. Humiliation suffocated him. He could feel Gu Yan's smug smirk behind those glasses, Zhao Ritian silently mouthing "loser." The professor frowned slightly, but Lin Wanwan sat, smooth as silk, as if concluding a standard scholarly debate.
Fat Cat heard nothing for the rest of the lecture. The professor's voice was muffled static. The words "D-Minus" and "7 points" echoed like demon drums. He used to manipulate billions! Now he flunked basic subjects! His obese, clumsy, genetically "condemned" body was a monument of shame. His amber eyes held only deep self-loathing. Claws absently scraped the desk, leaving pale marks.
Later Still - "Hardship Student Solvency Verification Hearing"
The top-floor hearing room screamed corporate sterility: cold alloy walls, harsh lighting. Five stony-faced adjudicators sat behind a long table. Fat Cat III perched nervously on a reinforced, extra-wide chair. Opposite him, Gu Yan, the picture of efficiency as Student Council Rep & Hearing Assistant, organized data on his holoscreen, glasses flashing.
"Applicant Fat Cat III," the stern female lead adjudicator stated flatly, "Your Hardship Aid application triggered review due to extreme anomalies in the 'Family Asset' section. Detail your claim of '-9 Trillion Stellars' and provide verifiable proof."
Fat Cat took a steadying breath. "It's accurate. The debt stems from my... predecessor-family's business collapse. Inherited legally." His words were thick. "The Interstellar Bankruptcy Tribunal ruling is Appendix 37."
Gu Yan tapped his screen. "Apologies, adjudicators. The ruling is valid. However, the debtor 'Liu Interstellar Consortium' lists no liability heirs matching 'Fat Cat III' or his prior identity 'Liu Yao'." His eyes narrowed professionally. "Records indicate the primary creditor, 'Lin Interstellar Capital,' absorbed and restructured the debt post-liquidation. How do you substantiate a personal, legally enforceable debt liability? Could this be... falsifying hardship claims?"
"Falsifying?!" Fur bristling, rage cut through Fat Cat. "That was MY family! My father DIED! How could I—"
"Confine remarks to facts and maintain composure," the lead adjudicator droned, rapping the table.
Gu Yan smoothly continued: "Under University Ordinance 9.3, applicants require unambiguous asset documentation. You lack court-recognized evidence linking this debt to you personally. Moreover," he highlighted another entry, "we found an asset under 'Fat Cat III': a 20-year leasehold on a derelict warehouse in Ring Three's 'Nomad's Cove.' Valued conservatively at 50 Stellars. Doesn't this negate 'destitution'?"
A warehouse? 50 Stellars?! Blood pounded in Fat Cat's ears. That junkyard, left by Fat Cat II (this body's loser gambler predecessor), was worthless! Gu Yan was exploiting a pathetic technicality, ignoring the 9 Trillion! This was pure malice, wrapped in bureaucratic paper!
"That hovel's trash! The debt—" Fat Cat stammered.
"Procedure observes verifiable records," Gu Yan cut in, turning to the panel. "Given the evidence, Applicant Fat Cat III exhibits potential misrepresentation. Recommend suspending subsidy pending supplementary, legally binding documentation of personal liability."
The adjudicators conferred with glances. "Recommendation adopted. Benefits suspended pending proof. Hearing adjourned."
Fat Cat was hollow. The door slid open silently. Gu Yan paused beside him, his voice silky and low: "Oh, and reminder? Fitness Assessments are soon. I'll ensure your... special case... receives special attention. Resources must prioritize the deserving." His gaze swept the bloated frame. A thin, victorious smile touched his lips.
Fitness Assessment Fiasco - "Peak Performance Pavillion"
The giant dome of the University's fitness hub buzzed with sweat and sterility. Students in sportswear queued near gleaming, cold machines. Sapient species clustered in designated zones.
When Fat Cat III's turn came, the zone hushed significantly. Exchanging smirks, techs readied the equipment. Zhao Ritian leaned against a wall, the gym's co-owner/student-rep, watching like a lion eyeing prey.
"Yo! Campus 'heavyweight' contender!" a tech called out snidely, drawing snickers. He gestured to a glowing blue, egg-shaped device – the "Reflex Agility Harmonizer" for small-to-medium canines/felines. "Care to dazzle us with some nimble moves? See how your... protective cushioning... affects those lightnin'-fast reflexes?"
Fat Cat III stared at the modest hatch, then his sphere-shaped body. Heart sinking, he had no choice. Under the gaze of dozens, he lumbered, half-crawling towards the Harmonizer. Mere meters felt like a marathon. Loud, labored breaths, wobbly blubber... each shuffle drew more smirks and whispers.
He shoved his torso into the hatch. Cold metal dug into his belly folds. He sucked in, paws scrabbling, desperate to force himself inside. It was like shoving a stuffed toy into a dog kennel – absurd and pitiful. Sweat matted his chest fur, strands stuck to his face.
"You got this, chonker! Almost!"
"Oof. Core strength... not great."
"Need a push?"
The taunts pricked his back. Biting back humiliation, Fat Cat III heaved with his last shred of strength—
*CRUNCH!*
He jammed half in, but his rear end and hips wedged solidly in the frame. He was a fleshy, furry cork. Trapped. He wriggled uselessly. Humiliation surged. His gasping breaths echoed. Sweat dripped on the floor. Mocking stares burned.
"Welp, guess the sizing's off," Zhao Ritian drawled, strolling over to inspect the wedged spectacle. "How 'bout the Basic Physique Evaluation Bench instead? Plenty o' room. Little ol' grip strength, squats, micro-sprint... Piece of cake, right? Pass line's a chill 30% for strugglers." He emphasized 'Basic' and 'strugglers.'
The bench was for newly optimized juveniles. This was calling Fat Cat worse than a toddler.
Freeing himself, rumpled and panting, Fat Cat shuffled to the bench. The grip bar felt cold and alien. He squeezed desperately. The display flickered pathetically: 15kg – barely a third of kitten standards.
"Logged: Grip Strength – FAIL," Zhao Ritian snapped, entering notes.
The squat bar was at its lowest. Fat Cat stared, surrounded by malice. He bent his knees. His belly swung forward like a sandbag. Knees barely bent 30 degrees before his center crashed down. He windmilled his paws, gravity winning. His balloon-body pancake-flopped onto the bench with a resonant *THUD!*
"BWAHAHA—!" Zhao Ritian exploded. "The floor kiss! Was that a squat or a belly-flop contest entry?!" Camera flashes erupted. Fat Cat III lay cheek-flat on cold metal, every breath raising dust. Sweat and raw shame crawled up his spine. Flashes of his father's collapse, the plummeting red graph, Gu Yan's sneer, Lin Wanwan's disdain, the hearing's finality – "Procedure observes..." Claws scraped grooves in the bench floor.
"Don't play dead, lardball!" Zhao Ritian nudged Fat Cat's trapped gut with a boot. "Burst test time!" Two chuckling techs flipped him like a ragdoll and hauled him to a short sprint track's starting line, dizziness mixing with the ache in his back and hips.
*BEEP!* - Ready! - the electronic voice commanded.
Fat Cat focused on the glowing hoop ten meters away, legs tensing...
*BRRRRRP!* - GO!
The start buzzer ripped the air. In that instant, a vicious, burning jolt speared into the base of his skull! Like a superheated syringe injecting molten wire. Scorching energy exploded through his muscles!
"AGGH!" A choked scream escaped as his body launched like a cannonball! Layers of fat whipped wildly as he achieved near-blur speeds!
*WHUMP!*
He slammed chest-first into the impact foam. The track lit up red. The display flashed a staggering time: 3.2 seconds – smoking fast lynx territory!
Silence. Dead silence.
Zhao Ritian stared, jaw slack, glasses askew. The techs blinked, rubbed eyes. Fat Cat III stood stunned, trembling, staring at his own paws. His heart felt ready to detonate. That power... wasn't his.
"CHEAT!" Zhao Ritian roared back to life, face purple with rage. He stormed forward and grabbed a fistful of Fat Cat's neck scruff, wrenching him up. "Spill it, tubbo! Where'd you stash the juice? Under the fat rolls?!" Rough fingers dug into his neck, hunting a phantom chip. The public roughing up sent tremors of agony and fury through Fat Cat. His pupils became slits. As Zhao Ritian was about to paw him—
[...fzzt... host de-tec-ted... DIGNITY CRUMBLE RATE: 99%... EMERGENCY RESET... IN-IT-I-ATE...]
A crackling, glacially cold, impossibly distant robotic voice abruptly vibrated deep within Fat Cat III's skull!
Darkness swallowed him whole....