Otaku Translation: Honey Badger's Streaming Life C85

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In reality, Wang Ping was just overreacting. The combination of blankets and a closed door made it nearly impossible for anyone outside to hear anything. Even if Gu Lang—Third Brother Gu—had heard something, he probably wouldn’t care. After all, earlier that afternoon, he had handed Wang Ping a fully charged tablet to play with. A little noise? Completely normal.

Inside the blanket, the faint blue glow of the screen cast an eerie light on the honey badger’s furry face.

Fortunately, the laptop automatically connected to the Wi-Fi network in the house, saving him precious time.

Staring at the desktop icons, Wang Ping instinctively reached out with his tiny paw toward the right side of the laptop but found only empty space.

"Shit! In my rush, I forgot to grab a mouse!"

By now, the computer was already booted up, and the impatient honey badger couldn’t bring himself to go through the hassle of fetching one. Instead, he grabbed his own tail and awkwardly maneuvered it across the touchpad, moving the cursor slowly and deliberately.

Ignoring the 720 Turbo Browser icon installed by someone else, Wang Ping double-clicked on the Internet Explorer shortcut.

The designer behind the WAP (World Animal Protection) website clearly had… unique ideas. The internal staff portal could only be accessed via Internet Explorer; other browsers would load the homepage fine, but the gateway to the intranet remained stubbornly hidden. And every time Wang Ping used IE, its glacial loading speed reinforced his belief that the designer must have been brain-dead.

Carefully retracting his claws, Wang Ping painstakingly tapped out the URL letter by letter, gritting his teeth as he endured the excruciatingly slow connection. Clutching his tail like a lifeline, he watched the webpage sluggishly refresh before his eyes.

The first thing that greeted him was a photo of a dog, accompanied by bold black text proclaiming, “This is humanity’s closest companion.”

It wasn’t that dogs were being given special treatment—WAP rotated different animals on their homepage each week for promotional purposes. This week just happened to feature dogs.

Slowly guiding the cursor with his makeshift touchpad, Wang Ping clicked on the “News” section beneath the subheading. The page refreshed, displaying a series of past news articles.

Before he could even scroll down, his small body stiffened abruptly where he sat cross-legged on the bed.

Fourth article down, there it was: a black-and-white portrait of Jacob smiling widely, as though blooming like a chrysanthemum. Above it, bold black letters screamed: *World Wildlife Protection Association Staff Member Dies in Africa – Honoring the Memory of Jacob Root.*

"What the hell?! How could it be Jacob?"

Wang Ping’s mind exploded with shock, leaving him stunned and blank.

He wanted to click on the article to read more, but his trembling paws refused to cooperate. Each attempt missed the target entirely, inadvertently opening random tabs instead.

The date on the next article indicated it was published a month ago. That meant if WAP had truly released a full list of casualties, Wang Ping wasn’t on it. In other words, he might still be alive.

But there was no sense of relief or joy.

Facing your own death and facing the loss of a teammate are two entirely different experiences. Especially when that teammate happens to be half a mentor to you.

Not many people get the chance to imagine what it feels like to see themselves dead. But if given the choice, Wang Ping would rather have seen his own picture than Jacob’s.

“Damn it!”

Frustrated, Wang Ping slammed the laptop shut and burst out of the blankets, gasping for air.

On the bright side, he didn’t need to worry about Wang An losing her mind anymore. Unfortunately, aside from that silver lining, everything else seemed utterly hopeless.

Jacob’s death loomed over Wang Ping like a sudden nightmare, crushing him with its weight. He felt suffocated, unable to breathe.

For some inexplicable reason, he suddenly craved a cigarette.

Gu Lang didn’t smoke, nor did Grandma Sheng. If anyone in the family smoked, the only plausible place left to find cigarettes would be in the master bedroom occupied by Gu Lang’s parents.

Climbing up to the third floor, Wang Ping approached the single locked room. Using the same trick as before, he crawled along the ceiling and entered. On the dressing table, he discovered half a pack of ladies’ cigarettes and a dainty lighter.

Without bothering to ponder why Gu Lang’s father smoked lady cigs, Wang Ping hopped onto the dressing table, plucked a cigarette from the pack, and placed it between his lips. With clumsy paws, he fumbled with the lighter until a bright flame flickered to life.

Leaning closer to the flame, he took a deep drag.

“Pfft!”

“Keh-keh-keh…”

Smoke hit his nose hard, choking him instantly. Instinctively, he spat out the lit cigarette, sending it flying across the room. It struck the mirror, scattering sparks before landing back on the table. Meanwhile, Wang Ping doubled over, coughing violently.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally caught his breath.

Picking up the discarded cigarette, which had burned a small black mark into the table, Wang Ping held it delicately between two claw tips. Straightening up, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror.

In the dim lighting, the figure staring back at him looked almost feral. Save for the white fur atop his head, his entire body was covered in sleek black hair. His glowing eyes, close up, bore a striking resemblance to those of a bear. Yet, no matter how you looked at it, nothing about this creature screamed “human.”

"Damn... look at you, neither man nor beast!"

Raising his arm, Wang Pink took another drag, then blew the smoke forcefully toward the mirror.

"Go screw yourself!"

Sitting cross-legged on the dressing table, he finished the cigarette in silence. Once his emotions settled somewhat, he stood up, dusted off his butt, and prepared to leave.

Pausing momentarily, Wang Ping decided not to waste the remaining half-pack. With a shrug, he stuffed both the cigarettes and the lighter into his mouth.

After all, Gu Lang had mentioned that his parents rarely came home. Might as well make use of their stash.

Back in his room, Wang Ping finally allowed himself to think about other matters.

First and foremost—the current status of Team Three.

Jacob’s death was an event Wang Ping hadn’t foreseen. In his last memory, the lecherous bearded man who loved cracking dirty jokes was still very much alive, cheerfully administering injections without so much as a mosquito bite marring his skin. Others, however, weren’t so lucky—they’d sustained injuries here and there.

If even Jacob had fallen, what fate awaited the rest of them?

Crawling back into bed, Wang Ping reopened the laptop. With great patience, he manipulated the cursor using his tail, clicking three times on a small gray logo tucked away in the bottom-left corner of the homepage. The page refreshed, revealing a login window.

Just as he was about to input his ID number and private password, Wang Ping hesitated.

What exactly was his current situation? Was he presumed dead but unreported? Unconscious? Or had some jerkass transmigrator taken over his body and was living his life for him? If someone checked the backend login records and found traces of his activity, wouldn’t that spell disaster?

Hmm...

Scratching his white-furred scalp with a claw, Wang Ping pondered.

What was Anna’s password again?

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