'SEE YOU MORNING' 128 Friends in Low Places

After getting snubbed by Grace, Hunter’s desires were clearly unsatisfied. Lin Yuhui could sense him driven by urge—he pulled out of the garage, set his destination, and vanished rapidly into the night toward the city center.
Yet Lin Yuhui now possessed vision far sharper than any human’s; even at a great distance, he could still track Hunter’s car. But as he followed, his consciousness flickered again—sometimes drifting toward the sky, tangled with fragmented perceptions—making it hard to grasp the present. Finding a physical vessel seemed an urgent task indeed. But how? And where would he find one?
When the car reached the side streets of the entertainment district, it could no longer speed. Only then did Hunter have the focus to observe his surroundings. This area glowed with neon lights—through walls, Lin Yuhui glimpsed racing simulators, robot combat fights (or perhaps outlets for venting), ordinary discos, KTV lounges, and of course, casinos to stir primal human appetites.
Along the street drifted stunningly dressed escorts—men and women—but a closer look revealed them to be robots in human guise, pitching entertainments to potential guests.
Hunter was clearly a regular here. He walked right in without hesitation; the machines didn’t bother introducing anything or offering guidance. The building bore no sign or logo—its purpose unclear. Lin Yuhui soared higher for a bird’s-eye view of this glittering playground. Only then, through holographic projections cast by optical diffraction devices mounted on roller coasters, Ferris wheels, and space towers in the distance, did he catch occasional flashes of the words: “Alien Space Entertainment World.”
He never lost Hunter’s trail. Following him inside, they first entered a disco—dance floor surrounded by lounge seating and a bar. Hunter clearly had no interest in such rudimentary amusements. But as Lin Yuhui passed through the floor with him, he felt the sound pressure and strobe lights disturbing his very essence. There seemed to be shifting electromagnetic fields interfering with his focal point and location, as if he were tossed and submerged in ocean waves, powerless. He barely scrambled out of the dance floor’s range. Glancing back, he couldn’t tell if the disorientation came from the place or himself—but the anxious need for a physical body grew sharper.
Hunter headed to the VIP lounge at the back. Before long, someone came out to greet him.
“Hey, Hunter. What brings you here tonight?” It was a middle-aged man.
“Yeah, home’s just too damn boring.”
Lin Yuhui sensed the contempt beneath the man’s surface—though unspoken and unexpressed, he knew about Hunter’s family upheaval. The man murmured something into his collar, then poured Hunter a whiskey, handing him the glass.
“Wait a bit—your old friends will be here soon,” he said, eyeing Hunter up and down.
The worthless wretch took no offense, wearing that pathetic, alcohol-crazed look—as if making up for some deficit at dinner.
“I was sorry to hear about your brother’s passing,” the man said, watching him.
“Ah, yeah. He was a loser,” Hunter replied without a trace of grief, tinged with mockery.
The man opposite certainly noticed. But Lin Yuhui perceived more: Hunter was thinking of his father’s lifelong favoritism toward his brother and disdain for him. His brother’s death brought thoughts only of his sister-in-law.
“With your brother gone… think your dad might name you CEO?” the man probed.
“Me?” Hunter was taken aback—he hadn’t considered it. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.
“Think it’s possible?” he asked tentatively, knowing his father despised him and having no clue about corporate protocols—he understood none of the real business anyway.
“Who knows? You’re his only son left.”
“Oh.” Hunter blinked, a sly glint beneath the idiocy.
Just then, the man received a message. Seeing Hunter finish his drink, he signaled staff to lead him to a room in the back. Curious about such places, Lin Yuhui followed. Inside were various facilities: projection screens, sensory interactive gear, drink service—similar to outside, only more private.
Then another door opened. In walked one man and two women.
“Hey, Hunter, welcome,” the lead man greeted.
“Brock, you’re here too?”
“Yeah, heard you were coming, so I dropped by.”
“And these ladies are?” Hunter’s gaze was already captured by the strange allure of the two women behind Brock.
“This is Tulip, and this is Poppy…”
Before Brock finished, Hunter’s drool had already hit the floor. Dazed, he asked,
“Are th-they… human?”
Lin Yuhui was startled too—but wouldn’t ask so bluntly. He could see through their bodies: they were biological organisms. Whether artificially designed biochemically or genetically enhanced humans, he couldn’t tell. For now, he’d classify them as human.
Tulip was a dark beauty, but her facial structure resembled a cat’s—deep purple lipstick, jade-green eyes with vertical pupils. Her black hair fell in twin straight braids like whips. She was thin, hairless, her skin glowing darkly with subcutaneous capillaries—a dark hue tinged faintly purple.
Hunter eyed her head to toe. Apart from her face, she looked human—just bony.
The other, Poppy, had fair skin. Her face was unusual too—muzzle slightly protruding, nose tip fine and upturned. Her eyes slanted like willow leaves; a single glance held a thousand charms. With a faint smile, Hunter was utterly bewitched.
But Lin Yuhui saw beyond appearances. Though they had human bodies, they radiated a feline grace and fox-like enchantment no human woman possessed. Yes—they were a black cat and a white fox, now amplified by human forms. Their pull on Hunter was no ordinary seduction; it was sorcery.
“Ladies, please sit,” Hunter invited, moving to fetch drinks.
“What’ll you have?” he asked, eyes roving over their faces and bodies, forgetting Brock entirely.
“Whiskey.”
“Brandy.”
Whether toying with him or not, they ordered different drinks. Bewitched, Hunter handed them full glasses, then—confused—poured either whiskey or brandy for himself and Brock before scrambling to sit beside Poppy. Raising a toast, his hand slid from her lower back down to her buttock.
Just as Hunter prepared to enjoy the drink with a feel of the beauty, his wandering hand was swatted away. Mid-swallow, he nearly choked. He looked down—the hand that struck his away was attached to a white-furred fox tail.
Hunter couldn’t believe his eyes. He blinked hard, then looked up, staring wide-eyed at Poppy.