[Year 101 of the Star Calendar | Dawn League Monitoring Station]
“The Overseer is in position.” The woman speaking stood before the large screen, her white hair meticulously pinned up neatly behind her head, her prominent cheekbones lending her a stern air.
“Overseer 01 in position.”
“Overseer 02 in position.”
“Overseer… in position.”
Dozens of voices rang out from the various monitoring feeds. Qin Mian listened quietly, hands clasped behind her back. When the final confirmation came, she nodded. “This league tournament marks the first restart in a decade. The event is important, but the students’ safety is paramount. We absolutely cannot allow the tragedy from ten years ago to repeat itself.” She paused slightly, her tone growing even colder. “If necessary, Overseers must immediately terminate the match and evacuate contestants from danger zones.”
“Understood!”
She turned to face the main screen, where footage from each competition zone gradually appeared. The contestants were geared up and raring to go. A smile touched her face, but just as she was about to look away, her pupils contracted sharply, her gaze locking onto a feed in the corner.
“…What is that thing?”
[Aurilion | Junkyard]
The base still had enough meat for Li Ao to last another day, but he had raised a “little dog.” With one bite for him and one for it, it was all gone.
So his lunch today was some scavenged biscuits.
Li Ao held the water bowl and poured it into the fluffy chestnut ball’s mouth. “Drink some water, okay? That way you’ll feel fuller.”
Did an unknown entity need food and water? The robot doubted it but didn’t call it out, because the joy the kitten showed while caring for it was far too genuine.
On this near-extinct barren star with nothing but Zerg left, a fluffy black chestnut ball of similar size was perhaps a better playmate for the cub than a cold, boring machine like itself.
Li Ao was unaware of the robot’s thoughts. He covered the water bowl and stowed it back in his pack. “Today, we’re gonna find lots and lots of food. Otherwise…” He trailed off. Despite his small size, he knew better than to burden others. He patted the tuft on Xun’s head. The two dark stripes above its eyes gave the little cat a serious expression. “I’ll definitely take good care of everyone!”
The black dumpling’s scarlet beast pupils brimmed with adoration. With a single leap, it nestled against that fluffy, reliable chest.
Qin Mian zoomed in on the footage, capturing Li Ao and Xun’s interaction perfectly on screen. She stared at the figures, frowning in thought. “A primitive cat? Didn’t that species go extinct ages ago?”
Primitive cats had vanished into history long before the Star Calendar era. Existing feline creatures were mostly evolved or modified variants—sparse fur, scale-covered bodies—with almost no resemblance to the fluffy, short-legged cat on screen.
“Any trace on the signal source? Did some contestant’s monitor get lost?”
A subordinate reported, “Signal source unlocatable. Doesn’t match any contestant’s ID info.”
“How did a non-contestant signal get into the live stream? Block it!” Qin Mian assumed it was a staff error mixing in an external feed, her tone laced with displeasure.
“Unable to block. The signal has top-level military authority specs.”
“What?” Even with years of experience, Qin Mian had never encountered anything like this. Meanwhile, as they traced the signal, the Dawn League live stream had already synced to the Star Network.
【So exciting! The tournament’s finally back after ten years!】
【Damn it! If I’d known it was this year, I would’ve delayed graduation to compete!】
【LMAO, talking like your grades could qualify for a repeat year.】
The Dawn League was a joint competition among interstellar universities, with contestants being top elites selected through rigorous screening.
【Guys, guess which school takes it this year? Who gets champion?】
【Hard to say. They added a culture event this time—overall scores decide.】
【Don’t remind me, it’s lame. For a century it was wilderness survival and Xenoid hunts. Throwing in culture points? What’s the point?】
【Barbarians, all you think about is killing bugs? What era is this? Gotta develop morally, intellectually, physically, and aesthetically.】
【Bet they’re scared from last time’s casualties. This year’s venues are all in safe zones.】
【Yeah, final round last time was in a wild system, and they ran into a newborn A-Rank Xenoid. If Delphi’s forces hadn’t been nearby on a mission, probably none would’ve survived.】
That was the bloodiest war since the Star Calendar, costing countless alliance troops—not to mention Delphi’s Prince Zane Regalis falling there.
【Speaking of Delphi, they got a few students competing this year, right?】
【Yep yep, checked the roster. At Tassion Academy.】
【Tassion’s a lock then. Delphi folks are monsters with superhuman physiques.】
【Not guaranteed. Delphi’s elite, sure, but their whole planet’s population is tiny. Can’t compete with Federation Dawn in numbers alone.】
Federation Dawn Academy was the largest public university in the stars, under the Interstellar Federation government. Unlike Tassion’s family pedigree focus, it accepted all excelling talents—a key cradle for Federation prodigies.
【Now it’s interesting. Culture class and safe zones killed my hype, but Delphi got me hard again.】
【WTF is this? A contestant???】
Someone posted a live stream link on Star Network.
【What? Some virus link?】
The quick-fingered clicked in. Two seconds later: holy shit.
【What the heck is this? Such short, fluffy legs???】
【Why the riddles? What’s got you all shocked? Noobs… holy shit? So cute! What is it?】
Wind was fierce today. Li Ao feared his lightweight little dog getting blown away, so he found a rope to leash it.
“Tie up!” Xun mimicked Li Ao, taking a deep sniff of the little cat’s cheek gland. Wrapped in the sweet kitten scent, the little monster melted blissfully, eyes narrowed as it stayed put, letting Li Ao pat it all over.
Its learning speed grew exponentially. From just last night’s educational vid watched with the kitten, it had already mastered seven or eight parts of the common tongue.
“Oops, forgot—you’ve got no neck.” Li Ao tugged the rope, at a loss where to tie it, finally knotting a bow at the fluffy chestnut ball’s little braid spot. “Hehe, looks pretty good like this.”
Li Ao was too smart! The little cat puffed out his chest proudly, tying the other end around his own waist. He stood on his hind legs, took a few steps, and wagged his tail in satisfaction.
【Aaaah what is this? How are its legs so short? So cute so cute wuwuwu, it walks on two legs too!】
【Monitor busted? Picture but no sound?】
【Checked it out—this is a cat.】
【Impossible! Don’t lie, my cat doesn’t look like that.】
【For real, primitive cat. But… not quite. Even primitives don’t have legs this short or fur this poofy—like a cotton candy.】
【Weren’t primitive cats extinct?】
Li Ao dashed forward, rope tied to his waist. The fluffy chestnut ball didn’t resist, letting itself float balloon-like into the air with the wind.
【What’s that black blob? Another cat?】
【Looks weird. No species match in records.】
【Short-leg cat flying a black kite (lol)】
【Is it scavenging? How’re those tiny paws so nimble?】
Today’s spot was some kinda dump, piled with identical backpacks.
Extreme day-night temps and harsh conditions hadn’t degraded these military packs—they were intact enough for Li Ao to score a find.
“Biscuit?” Li Ao eyed the slab dubiously, tapping it against his glass bottle. The bottle shattered on impact.
Hard as rock.
Li Ao’s face fell into classic kitten pout, suspecting it was a weapon, not food.
Right or wrong, he’d bring it back for the robot to check. No room to be picky now—edible, filling, survival—that was it.
Li Ao rummaged nonstop, stuffing items into his little pack till it bulged. He switched to a bigger one and filled that too.
Great haul, but how to drag it all back?
He was strong-ish, but not that strong.
As Li Ao fretted, the stream viewers were flipping tables in anxiety.
【OMG! E-Rank Xenoid behind the kitten!】
【Can’t watch, can’t watch the fluffball die aaaah!!!】
Lowest-grade Xenoid: mantis-shaped, vulture-sized. Its drool hit the ground, corroding wisps of green smoke. It crept toward Li Ao step by step.
Xun narrowed its eyes and let out an odd cry. The Xenoid clearly feared it, halting its advance.
Li Ao heard Xun’s cry and looked up. “What’s up?” Thinking it was bored. “Don’t worry, Li Ao’s packing stuff. Once done, we’ll play.”
【Silly kitty don’t look up!!! Look front!! Run!!!】
Li Ao couldn’t hear the frantic chat barrage, but he sensed something off. He scooped up a brick-hard biscuit to use as a weapon.
The xenoid let out a shrill hiss, its six sharp steel legs scraping deep gouges into the ground. The commotion was so huge that Li Ao couldn’t have ignored it if he tried.
He raised his brick and looked over, instantly freezing in place.
“Huh? Is this the mantis monster that Dong Xixi encountered during its adventure?” This thing was almost identical to the character from the cartoon Li Ao had watched.
“But it doesn’t seem quite right.” He stretched out a paw and gestured, recalling the cartoon. “It’s a bit bigger than the one Dong Xixi ran into.”
【Why isn’t it running? Even though it’s just an E-Rank xenoid, killing a few ordinary people would be no problem at all!!】
【I can’t watch anymore, I don’t dare to look, save us! Who the hell put this stream in the league anyway?】
Xun’s scarlet pupils suddenly contracted sharply. An invisible pressure instantly spread out, the rank suppression from his bloodline causing the xenoid to halt its movements once more.
Li Ao really wasn’t afraid. First, because he was a cheerful little guy. Second, because he’d seen this thing in the cartoon. Third, because his first meeting with Xun had already raised his fear threshold.
【It’s got a death wish!!! Why aren’t you running, what are you waiting for??】
【What’s it holding? Holy shit, military compressed biscuits? Oh my god, I can’t take it anymore, why isn’t it running?】
【I looked it up—primitive cats have really low IQs. It probably doesn’t even recognize it. It’s gonna die, wuwuwu.】
Li Ao glanced at the biscuit in his paw, a lightbulb flashing over his head. He squatted down and beckoned to the mantis monster. “Nom nom nom, are you hungry? Nom nom nom?”
The xenoid was initially wary of the suppression and didn’t dare advance, but as Li Ao moved, the pressure faded. It could no longer hold back its inner cravings.
So fragrant. The scent he was giving off was so fragrant.
It had never felt such intense longing before—not for flesh and blood, but a kind of closeness it had never experienced.
His voice made the bug feel so comfortable. It wanted to get closer, it felt like it should get closer.
It could no longer hold back and charged straight at Li Ao.
【Someone save it!! Where’s the Overseer? Save this cat!】
【I don’t dare look…】
【Run!!!】
【—Gah?】
The barrage of comments came to an abrupt halt.
【Huh?】
【Ha?】
【WTF? This cat just smashed the bug down with a biscuit?】
【Though… military rations are really heavy…】
The biscuit slammed heavily onto the xenoid’s head with a crisp smack, even shaking the ground.
Li Ao first gave the bug a solid whack. “Submit or not?”
The xenoid sprawled on the ground, its six legs twitching slightly. It just tried to raise its head when another biscuit laced with sweet spiritual power came smashing down… It got smacked into bliss and stopped moving.
Li Ao then gave the bug a sweet treat. “Submitted now? If you submit, this biscuit is yours. Eat up and then help this cat with work, got it?”
That was exactly how Dong Xixi tamed the mantis monster—Li Ao was just following the example perfectly!
【…What? Which director filmed this comedy?】
【Speechless. Playing with monkeys? This must be some entertainment segment they arranged. And here I was screaming in worry for so long.】
【It’s not entertainment!! Look closely! It’s scoring! This cat’s on the leaderboard!】
The match had only just begun. The contestants were still in the safe zone and hadn’t even entered the wilderness yet, let alone encountered any xenoids.
With all scores still at zero, Li Ao had been judged by the monitor to have dealt with a Zerg, rocketing him to the top of the rankings.
The audience was dumbfounded. The Overseer was dumbfounded. Qin Mian was dumbfounded too.
“Did the system glitch?” She was at a loss as well.
