The starry river flowed like tides, and a starship silently threaded through it.
It was a heavily modified large starship, its hull covered in all sorts of graffiti, the surface spray-painted in patchy layers that exuded a wild, unrestrained vibe. The most eye-catching spot on the ship’s side bore a metal winged skull emblem. The wings flared upward, with ruby-like sensor lights embedded in the skull’s eye sockets, coldly flickering.
That was the mark of the Freemen.
They belonged to no regime and obeyed no laws.
They roamed beyond the borders, surviving in interstellar rifts—star pirates in the eyes of the world, yet they called themselves Wave Walkers.
These Wave Walkers lived by plundering passing merchant ships, their movements unpredictable and unbound, making them the most uncontrollable bunch on the interstellar frontier.
But though they seemed lawless, they knew better than anyone how to seek profit and avoid harm.
They dared to intercept certain Federation warships. They dared to hit fleets in shipping lanes. But Delphi’s ships? They never touched those.
Dealing with the Federation, they had plenty of confidence. After all, in those gray-income zones even officials couldn’t openly acknowledge, the Freemen contributed no small amount of illegal resources to the elites. Corrupt Federation higher-ups turned a blind eye to it—as long as it wasn’t robbing them, they’d sweep it under the rug and pretend nothing happened.
Delphi was different. Those people were real monsters. Military or civilian, try touching any one of them and see what happens. You’d be begging for death; they’d dig up your ancestors’ graves and scatter your ashes to the wind.
And yet, this band of vicious, slippery rogues—who kept their distance from Delphi—was heading toward the Delphi system’s border.
“Boss.” A scrawny guy built like a little chick kept knocking on the captain’s quarters door. “Boss, open up, hey!”
After about two minutes, the hatch hissed open.
A burly man stood there shirtless, his solid chest muscles bulging, fresh red nail marks on his skin. He had half a cigar in his mouth, one hand braced on the doorframe, and he spat curses right away. “You fuckin’ trying to die? Knocking like the grim reaper?”
They were brothers who’d been through life and death together. Little Chick respected but wasn’t scared of him. Peering past the man, he saw a voluptuous woman inside fastening her clothes. Little Chick winked and grinned cheekily. “You think I wanted to come? The doc sent me to notify you and sis-in-law—we’re about to hit Delphi’s edge.”
The man hadn’t even opened his mouth when the woman walked out. Her face was plain, but her figure was killer. Little Chick dared to joke with the man, but to her, he was all respect. “Sis-in-law.”
Qin Yi took the cigar from her husband’s hand and stuck it in her mouth. “How much longer?”
“After jumping the last wormhole, about 20 hours and we’ll be at the outermost edge of the Delphi system,” Little Chick said, getting serious about business. “Big Bro, Sis-in-Law, is it really okay to just charge in like this?”
He was seriously spooked. That was Delphi—even clean, law-abiding folks didn’t dare set foot there, let alone a bunch of villainous Freemen like them.
Qin Yi exhaled smoke. “Gotta try. How else you know if it works?” Liberty already had over a dozen early Doom patients locked up. Those were brothers who’d fought and bled with them; they’d never abandon one unless it was absolutely hopeless.
“Are the gifts ready?” she asked.
“All set!” Little Chick grinned. “Just hit a rich merchant ship a few days ago—loaded with kid-friendly eats and toys. Besides, what does a little brat like anyway? He’ll love ’em for sure.”
“The little guy’s small, but the adults behind him aren’t easy to fool. Pick ’em with care.” Qin Yi shoved the cigar back into her husband’s mouth, treating him like a human ashtray. “That little cat said one buck a pop, but we can’t show up empty-handed. When asking for favors, you gotta show real sincerity.”
Even with gifts ready, the real problem remained—they needed to first get clearance to even talk to Delphi.
No matter how cocky these lawless pirates were, they knew the truth: without permission, you couldn’t even enter Delphi system space, let alone see that cat.
They could only hope the doctor could secure an audience. Hope that cat really was the one-of-a-kind good kitty from the video. Hope he could help a bunch of interstellar thugs like them.
Late June, the sea surface gathered sunlight into shimmering mirrors. Kindergarten let out early today; three or four in the afternoon was peak heat.
The robot had greeted Li Ao that morning, saying it’d take him out for a group dinner tonight and let him play on the streets while it finished work.
Waving sticky goodbye to his little friends, Li Ao grabbed Xun and waddled butt-wiggling toward the small market next to the kindergarten.
Magnolia Flower Kindergarten was far from the castle center, not a spot that should be bustling, but it had boomed thanks to a certain little cat attending. Stalls were set up haphazardly; hot sea breezes tinkled the wind chimes.
Nearly every stall had a little staircase-like step stool. Wood or metal, all polished smooth; some had tiny flowerpots or toys on top.
All Delphi folk were tall— who needed these? The answer was obvious.
Short, stubby limbs scrambled up the steps, and a sleepy cat head poked out in front of the napping stall owner.
“Auntie.”
The next instant, the stall owner snapped awake, wiped drool, and her square face lit up with joy. “Aiyo, out of school already?”
Li Ao squatted properly on top, tilting his face adorably as he handed over a buck. “It’s Friday~ Teacher Xiao Yang said early dismissal.”
“Goodie.” The hawkishly robust woman beamed, firing up the shaved ice machine, her voice soft as water. “What flavor, sweetie?”
The gold-and-white kitten tiptoed close to the counter, fluffy head right up to the menu—pinyin specially marked on the big letters. He scanned each one seriously, then pointed at blueberry. “This one.”
“Comin’ right up—” She twisted the crank, and the old-school machine whirred to life.
Snowy ice shavings flew down into the clear cup, sunlight turning it into bottled summer.
The kitten squatted watching, eyes sparkling with anticipation, tail swishing gently behind. Xun stood below, spotted it, and pounced in a hug—like a burr stuck to the cat’s tail.
The ice was piled so high, one move and it’d spill. The owner glanced at the chairs by the shop, served it in a dish, and carried it over.
The chair wasn’t too high. Li Ao gauged the distance, twisted his butt, and hopped up. The sun-baked wooden seat scorched; paws lifted, shook—he wanted to sit but it burned his butt.
The owner saw, chuckled fondly, padded the seat with the tray, and propped up an umbrella to shade him.
Li Ao tilted his head back, flashed a toothy grin.
“Eat with the little doggie too.” Delphi folk could now deadpan “little dog” at a Xenoid without flinching.
The two little ones huddled around the big wide-mouth cup, taking turns lapping up the shaved ice.
Before they knew it, folks had gathered around. An old timer quietly left a bag of snacks by them, not minding the hot ground, squatting with a grimace. They clustered in twos and threes, playing chess, cracking seeds.
An old man with a nicotine craving eyed the kitten’s fluffy head, scratched his cheek, and pocketed his pipe.
How to describe such an afternoon, with time lingering so tenderly?
Was it the kitten’s blissful squint from the cold, or the warm gentle sea breeze?
When Silver Wing came to pick up the cat, this was the scene: short-legged cat lounging like a grandpappy, belly out, munching snacks from who-knows-who.
“Aiyo—” The enthusiastic elder pulled back, awkwardly caught by the cat’s guardian. “Silver Wing’s here, huh. Uh, didn’t feed much, didn’t feed much. I’m off, haha.”
“…” The robot didn’t scold, just greeted. “Hello.”
“Hello, hello.” The old man slung an arm like corralling. “Handed off to you, yeah? We’re outta here.”
Oversnacked on carbs, the kitten was sleepy, yawning drowsily and flopping back—right into the robot’s arms.
“Thanks.” Silver Wing nodded to the auntie still fanning with a palm leaf, its cold electronic voice somehow warm.
“No need to be polite.” She waved them off, watching the robot carry the two little ones away.
Hard to believe that a century after the Machine Wars, such a nation existed, such people—accepting an Alpha machine without a hint of prejudice.
“Yo, you made it quick?”
Silver Wing’s colleagues all handled the empire’s entire network security, each with their own kids. Nicely put, it was a family dinner with young ones. But really?
The robot eyed the short-legged cat, surrounded like a star by the colleagues, feeling oddly complex. No wonder they’d insisted. Robots didn’t have kids—they’d banked on it bringing the short-legged cat.
“…” It’s still the cat’s problem—he really is pretty cute.
Xun, sitting at the kids’ table, narrowed his eyes displeasedly. He was just about to hop over to the little cat’s side when he got surrounded by a group of slightly older children, who started chattering all at once:
“Xun, what does Highness like to play?”
“Xun, what does Highness like to eat?”
Green tea Xun glanced at the cat, his scarlet pupils blinking as he immediately replied, “Little kitty likes playing with puppies, and little kitty likes eating with puppies.”
The elementary schoolers: ? What’s with that bragging tone? So the point is “with puppies,” huh?
A young pup was already rubbing young folks the wrong way.
Li Ao had already stuffed himself full of snacks that afternoon. Now facing a table full of chicken, duck, and fish, his heart was willing but his stomach couldn’t keep up. Unwilling to waste food, and seeing the adults’ expectant gazes, he let out a string of burps, rubbed his belly, and opened his mouth to eat another bite.
Silver Wing finally couldn’t stand it anymore. It pushed aside the data stream seeds its colleague had specially prepared for it and scooped up the cat, carrying him to the next table over.
