The Group Chat Is Full of Fluffballs

The day my family went bankrupt, a new group chat suddenly appeared on my phone.

It was called “Pets of the World Chat Group,” and the messages were all things like, “The canned food my two-legged servant gave me today tasted so bad I cried,” and “I scratched a new masterpiece into the sofa.”

I stared at the screen, dumbfounded, then suddenly noticed that every cat and dog avatar had its inner thoughts displayed beside it.

The rich lady's dog next door: “Mom's new boyfriend smells weird. I really want to tell him he's two-timing her.”

The orange cat downstairs: “That litter of kittens yesterday actually belongs to the Ragdoll across the hall, but those cat treats from the guy who buys my food are so good.”

I quietly saved the screenshots, then walked into the pet shop in our complex, which had just gone out of business.

The next day, a sign appeared outside: “Spend 500 or more and enjoy one pet mind-reading session.”

The livestream chat instantly exploded: “Streamer, my tortoise son says he's been in love with the bathtub duck toy for three years. Is that true?!”