Chapter 53: The Brothers Are Forced to Move, Xiao Mu Packs Up…

242 didn’t understand why the little one didn’t eat but instead came over to hug him.

Once he felt the kid’s grip loosen a bit, 242 still gently pressed his finger against the sticky little bundle’s forehead and slowly pushed him out of his arms. Then he placed the bucket back in front of the kid, gesturing for him to eat.

Su Ximu looked at the small bucket, then at his brother, and shook his head. He patted his belly to show, “Brother, I’m not hungry. I don’t need to eat.”

He had only been a bit curious and wanted to try what his brothers usually ate.

Though it really tasted bad, he had vaguely come to understand that these things that filled the belly were actually very precious.

His brothers couldn’t eat three meals a day like he used to. They could only eat once every two days.

So, it was hard to eat and precious. He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t waste it.

After patting his own belly, he reached out to pat his brother’s. It was flat, nothing like the round, full feeling after eating his fill before.

They could only eat once every two days and still couldn’t get full.

At such a young age, Su Ximu had already faintly begun to grasp what a sour feeling was.

He had his brothers sit in a row and strained to lift the small wooden bucket, holding it up to his brother’s mouth.

The bucket really was small. Even filled almost to the brim with nutrient liquid, a four- or five-year-old child could lift it.

242 didn’t open his mouth at first and just stared at the kid’s belly. Only after another ‘stern’ urging did he finally open his mouth and take a sip.

This was the first time he ate away from the Feeding Tube.

The same went for 241 and 243.

Under Su Ximu’s distribution, urging, and explanation that he didn’t need to eat, the small bucket of nutrient liquid was finally divided up.

The extra two shares of nutrient liquid went to the three who had only eaten half-full before, but it still didn’t create an exaggerated sense of fullness.

Yet 243, after finishing this extra meal, still looked down at his belly in full wonder.

In the past two months, while learning to speak from his little brother, he had easily understood and remembered the word ‘hungry.’

But the opposite of ‘hungry’—’full’—he just couldn’t learn or comprehend, no matter what.

Until today, when he felt a slight sense of satisfaction from a part of his body for the first time. He pointed at his belly and said to his little brother, “Full?”

Su Ximu nodded.

243 glanced at his belly again, grinned happily, and shouted loudly, “Full!”

241 also touched his own belly and looked down, not knowing what he was thinking—or if he was thinking anything at all.

Ever since 242 learned to smuggle nutrient liquid, the conditions at home visibly improved.

At the very least, 243 no longer got so hungry his legs went weak from playing just a bit longer at the Sand Dunes each day.

Time passed leisurely like that for a few more months, and District 13 ushered in another Collection Day.

243 was no longer the same irritable kid from half a year ago who could only grind his arms against the ground. The night before this Collection Day, he paced circles around the house. With each lap, he growled fiercely, “Hate it!”

Half a year ago, he had resisted inwardly but wouldn’t have rebelled.

Now, 243 had started to think about why.

Why did they have to endure the pain?

Why couldn’t they refuse?

No one told him the answer.

Su Ximu didn’t know either.

He himself was still muddleheaded about this world. Being able to venture alone to the other side of the wall out of sheer determination to find medicine for his brothers was already impressive enough.

243 didn’t expect his little brother to give him answers either.

When not pacing, he imitated his brother by hugging the kid and instructing him, “Tomorrow, no, no, go, out, out…”

Perhaps because he hadn’t been too corrupted by this world yet, 243’s self-awareness awakened without too much difficulty, and his learning ability was quite good.

As early as two months ago, he had even begun trying to ponder some relatively complex questions.

For example: Little brother seemed different from them.

His brother 242 had seemed to realize this even earlier. That was why, on Collection Day, he had pushed the kid who followed them back into the room.

Precious things needed to be hidden away so they wouldn’t be taken.

That was the vague lesson 243 had learned from the nutrient liquid smuggling operations during this time.

He couldn’t articulate it specifically, but he knew the little brother was even more, more, more… precious than nutrient liquid.

So, he needed to hide and protect him even harder.

In half a year, Su Ximu had fully adapted to life here. He now called 243 both Third Brother and little brother interchangeably, clearly regarding the four of them as family.

From Third Brother’s reaction, Su Ximu vaguely guessed something.

Even now, he still remembered the incident half a year ago when all his brothers had been badly injured together.

Now, was someone going to hurt his brothers again?

Su Ximu got very angry. He didn’t listen to Third Brother’s instructions. Instead, he rolled up his sleeve to show his brothers his muscles, then made a punching motion. “Me, me tomorrow also go, go, go beat bad guys!”

“I’m very strong. Tomorrow if I see bad guys with knives cutting people, I’ll smash them with a rock first!”

“After smashing, I’ll, I’ll run. They can’t catch me.”

In this half year of playing outside every day, the little guy hadn’t even gotten tanned. When he rolled up his sleeve to show his ‘muscles,’ his lotus-root-segment-like little arm dented with just a press—where were the muscles?

Afraid he couldn’t convince his brothers, he pattered over to the corner and pulled out his weapon.

It was a small shovel sharpened from a fairly sharp stone flake.

The small shovel had been made under his verbal instructions and guidance, with big brother grinding the stone flake on the ground each night until it slowly became a small shovel.

The little guy held his shovel and demonstrated a downward scooping motion, indicating that if he couldn’t smash someone, he could scoop at their heel with the shovel, and it would hurt them a lot.

That way, all the bad guys would chase him, and no one would have time to cut big brother, second brother, or third brother with knives.

The little guy performed his whole routine with the shovel there by himself. Once he finished, 242 stepped forward, reached out to ruffle his fluffy little head, took the shovel from his hand, and turned to tiptoe and put it up high somewhere.

It was a clear confiscation of the tool of crime.

Su Ximu looked down at his now-empty hand, then at second brother who had hidden his small shovel, feeling a bit aggrieved. “Brother…”

242 picked him up and rocked him soothingly.

Su Ximu stayed in his brother’s arms, rocked for a good while, before asking in a downcast tone, “Brother, because I’m a little kid, right?”

“Those bad guys are all strong adults.”

“If only I could grow up right away.”

Then he could go stop the bad guys as a strong adult too.

Instead of like now, where his only weapon got hidden away and he couldn’t even reach it.

242 patted him lightly with his hand. Su Ximu looked up, suddenly missing his mom a little.

Brother felt like mom.

No, more mom than mom.

He couldn’t remember if mom had ever soothed him like this.

No matter how unwilling they felt, the next day, Collection Day proceeded as usual.

The three brothers deliberately left early. When they went out, 242 folded one of his clothes and padded it behind the still-sleeping little guy.

243 had thought this Collection Day would be like before: everyone lining up together, the ones at the front getting a chunk of flesh cut off one by one, then going aside to stop the bleeding in an even more painful way.

But this time, after big brother stretched out his arm at the front, the knife-wielder suddenly looked into his eyes and exclaimed in shock.

“Officer, his eyes—they’ve already started transforming,” the collector said to a man in a white uniform standing further ahead.

The officer walked over at once upon hearing this, glanced at 243’s eyes, and nodded in satisfaction.

His formerly black pupils now showed a faint golden hue upon close inspection.

243 stayed silent, and neither the collector nor the officer minded his reaction. On the contrary, they thought it was normal.

In the time that followed, 243 wasn’t sampled again. Instead, he was taken to another all-white little room.

Because the chains proved their blood relation, 241 and 242 were taken there too.

The three of them were poked and prodded by a researcher in a white coat. They also had some blood samples taken.

It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but compared to the crude sampling outside, it was much milder.

Finally, a researcher with a smile handed the test results to the officer and said casually, “Their paternal and maternal genes both come from ordinary Meat Citizens. Who would’ve thought combining them would produce such high quality.”

“All three show varying degrees of transformation. The lowest has already completed 70%.”

“Some transformations change the appearance, some don’t. No. 243’s changed his eye color.”

With that, the researcher sighed regretfully. “Sigh, if we’d known their parents’ genes would combine so well, we should’ve turned their parents into breeding stock back then.”

Instead of letting them die without even bones left.

The officer, flipping through the report, also felt a bit regretful. But discovering three high conversion rates before collection even started was a pleasant surprise.

Putting aside that bit of regret, the officer took 241, 242, and 243 to another small room to wait.

He was a bit expectant—maybe there’d be more surprises today. So he ordered tests on the flesh samples from Area 45 first.

Area 45 was the sector where 241 and the others lived in their tin shack.

And so they waited from morning until afternoon. Under the researchers’ priority rush processing, Area 45’s samples were tested, and two more were found.

Once those two were sampled, they left the collection point and returned to Area 45.

After waiting nearly a whole day for just two low conversion rates, the officer lost interest. He yawned and signaled the driver to take the three in the room to Area 45 to pick up people. After that, per usual procedure, send them straight to the inner district of District 13.

243 was led by the driver via his chain into the rear compartment. Along the way, he noticed it was the road back home and finally unclenched his fist.

Just like the vehicle from half a year ago, this one also stopped not far from their house door.

Inside the house, Su Ximu—who had been counting the time inwardly and wondering why his brothers were taking so long—kept peeking out through the door crack.

Until a very familiar large vehicle parked not far from the door, and in its rear compartment, he saw his brothers who still hadn’t returned.

He remembered clearly: Neighbor Grandpa and the aunt several doors down had left in a vehicle like this and never came back.

At this moment, the little guy finally understood.

So this vehicle wasn’t for moving house. It was for taking people away.

Because his brothers wouldn’t move without taking him.

A young child has very firm traits in his personality.

He knew that home was where his family was.

The place where he was alone was just a house.

After seeing his brothers on the vehicle, Su Ximu turned around, quickly spread out the clothes his brother had left, and placed his various little treasures inside one by one, along with his brothers’ collections.

Once he packed these things, he tied the clothes into a small bundle, slung it on his back, quietly pushed open the door, and ran with small steps toward the large vehicle.