Chapter 35: 035 The Presentation and the Vote Part 1

It was the young man’s soft laugh.

Ming Ruan hadn’t meant to crack up!

But the scene before him was too reasonable and too adorable.

Before his eyes, in this golden hall, seated in every single seat, was a little fluffy!

Some he’d seen at the Clarence estate, some he hadn’t—from common cats and dogs to even a giant panda! They sat quietly, obediently in their own seats, eyes bright, eagerly looking up.

The situation suddenly shifted from a presentation full of adult-world competitive pressure to a children’s channel little teacher leading the babies.

“Um… hello everyone. It’s very nice to be able to see you all here,” Ming Ruan said with a smile. “Babies, are any of you surprised to see me here?”

The small animals in the audience went from soft “woofs” to unable to help themselves, loudly echoing with chirps, barks, and meows.

On the golden stage, the young man, wearing a white outfit resembling both a windbreaker and a long robe, gently put a finger to his lips.

“Shh—”

The clamor ceased abruptly.

Ming Ruan’s eyes curved in a smile again.

He started sorting through his thoughts from the beginning.

He suddenly remembered the first day he had come here, amidst endless confusion and helplessness, the very first animal he met—the Gray Wolf.

He abandoned those carefully worded scripts—the little animals wouldn’t understand them anyway, what was the point of saying boring things like that?

Ming Ruan: “I remember on my very first day as Executor, before the flying sedan even picked me up to go to the Base, an alert popped up on my Light Brain saying an animal needed emergency rescue.”

These words didn’t need much organizing; they naturally flowed from his heart to his lips and were spoken.

“At that time, I thought, I wouldn’t become the first Executor in history to be dismissed for negligence within five minutes on the job, would I?”

In the audience, some little animals seemed to make chirping, cawing laughter.

Like telling a fairy tale, Ming Ruan spoke of his encounters and interactions with the Gray Wolf, the Fox, the White Tiger, the Lion… and many, many more little animals.

“The Gray Wolf likes eating raw food, but it must be washed clean and presented beautifully. Most importantly, you have to actively invite him to come and eat. He’ll be very happy. On the surface, he’s very reserved, but actually, his tail and ears move around a lot—that’s how you know he really likes it.”

“The Fox loves to go out to play, but he needs someone to accompany him, or he absolutely won’t leave the house. He likes playing with water and also likes pretty, delicate little things. I made him lots of little clothes…”

“The White Tiger likes clinging to me, but doesn’t like me clinging to him. It’s okay, the effect of cuddling is mutual…”

“The Lion acts like he can’t be bothered with anyone, but actually, he’s very soft-hearted and considerate. One time…”

“The Ragdoll likes it when people praise how pretty his colors are, the Red Panda loves hanging onto people, the Holland Lop actually seems to prefer canned food…”

Ming Ruan detailed the hobbies and habits of these fluffballs, telling funny daily stories.

From the Gray Wolf and others he had known for a long time, to those little animals he had only interacted with for two or three days.

The details he mentioned, even the individuals being singled out hadn’t realized themselves before.

In fact, no one before had been willing to be this close to Beastmen, let alone observe such subtle, detailed things.

In the darkened seating area, Shi Huai, being publicly put on the spot, turned his head awkwardly and with emotion—and saw Xie Gewen’s courteous smile on his face had already bloomed into a red blush. Turning his head again, he saw Su Yuyun, completely unflappable, taking out his hat and pressing down the tiger ears that had somehow emerged beneath it.

On stage, those stories—something the people of the Alpha Galaxy had never even fantasized about, the beautiful, fairy-tale-like interactions between humans and animals, stories they could never hear enough of—were already reaching their end.

At the story’s end, Ming Ruan stood on the stage and softly said to himself: “This truly has been a very, very, very beautiful experience.”

He loved them, and they responded to his love. Even though they met at a low point, in interaction after interaction, they drew the strength to move forward from each other.

Everything was the same.

“Whether animals, or people.”

No matter the species, no matter where the animals were, or what circumstances people were in.

Every single one, every one of them.

“Everyone is worthy of being loved.”

“I hope you all live well, happily. I hope all the fluffballs, and all people, are doing well.”

Ming Ruan had no experience with eloquent, polished speech. He was simply direct and certain:

“I love you all, and surely, there are many people who, just like me, love you all too.”

Love was never something that shouldn’t be easily spoken.

When Ming Ruan’s voice fell.

The little animals in the venue could no longer maintain their quiet.

Simultaneously, countless StarNet viewers in the holographic live stream room erupted in unison!

Everyone was expressing that inexplicable surge of emotion in their hearts in their own ways!

The chaotic sounds gradually converged into the same word, online and offline.

“Ming Ruan!” “Ming Ruan!” “Ming Ruan!”

“Meow!” Ming Ruan! “Awwoo!” Ming Ruan! “Cheep cheep!” Ming Ruan!

Ever since Ming Ruan appeared, his actions had been like winter sun, constantly trying to thaw the ice frozen over people’s hearts since the Beastmen Era began.

And today, the ice layer emitted the soft sound of melting under the sunlight.

Perhaps,

Perhaps the beast form wasn’t as grotesque and alien as they believed.

Perhaps therianthropy wasn’t so utterly despairing.

Perhaps their ending didn’t have to be losing everything and dying alone.

Perhaps they always had a choice—

To choose acceptance, to choose to love and be loved.

Below the stage, Xie Gewen closed his somewhat dry eyes, but the image of the golden stage and that figure in white lingered in his mind, refusing to fade.

He suddenly touched the top side of his head. “I…”

In the next moment, under everyone’s gaze, Xie Gewen’s form suddenly changed!

A few breaths later, the distorted clothes were retrieved into a Space Button. A familiar Gray Wolf with icy blue eyes appeared before the crowd.

Immediately after, Shi Huai’s seat next to him was also empty. Clothes fell to the ground, the lumps inside shifting left and right before a little Fox emerged.

Seeing this, the Mecha Soldiers who had been discreetly guarding the perimeter of the hall quickly moved over. The accompanying researchers from the Beastman Research Institute also activated safety measures and tentatively approached: “Sirs! Sirs! Are you still conscious?!”

The Research Institute also believed that Shi Huai and Xie Gewen, of course, couldn’t have completely achieved Reverse Therianthropy just like that. According to the latest data model projections, the timeframe for Shi Huai and Xie Gewen to revert to beast form was indeed around these few days.

But logically, it shouldn’t be happening now, right?

Therianthropy usually occurred during emotional overload from negative feelings. Had something Ming Ruan said just now made them uncomfortable?

Everyone’s hearts tensed. The Mecha Soldiers stood ready.

The Fox was manageable, but they had witnessed Xie Gewen’s aggressiveness after transforming.

The accompanying researcher hurriedly sent a status report to the Research Institute while turning on the Portable Beastman Mental State Detector.

“Huh?” The researcher’s frantic movements paused. He looked at the detector in disbelief, then up at the Gray Wolf and Fox, then back at the detector, then at the Gray Wolf and Fox again.

The Fox was so impatient it was sharpening its claws on the chair.

Transformed! Transformed! Now could they go find Ming Ruan?!

Even the Gray Wolf stared at the researcher, as if saying: if there’s nothing else, they’d like to leave now.

The researcher scratched his head.

The Beastman Mental State Detector showed that Xie Gewen and Shi Huai’s condition wasn’t just good—it was exceptionally good. Their mental state remained in an extremely positive, stable condition.

Then why had they suddenly transformed?

The researcher keenly sensed that such a new change would inevitably bring new research topics to Reverse Therianthropy studies. They were very likely about to step into the next phase of research.

And the architect of all this…

The researcher watched the Fox, who, after receiving permission, immediately dashed to the front of the stage, and the Gray Wolf, who appeared unhurried but moved just as fast as the Fox.

The architect of all this is, I’m afraid, still that young man who brought countless possibilities and hope—Ming Ruan.

On stage, Ming Ruan had gotten carried away by his own emotions and hadn’t stopped speaking for a while.

It wasn’t until a Light Brain notification interface suddenly popped up before his eyes that he remembered: his audience wasn’t just the fluffballs sitting here, but more importantly, the supervisors online who were going to vote!

Uh-oh, he’d gotten completely carried away.

Ming Ruan belatedly began curling his toes in embarrassment.

Just then, the wall behind Ming Ruan suddenly transformed into a massive wraparound screen. The interface on his Light Brain instantly synced onto this large screen.

A progress bar was displayed on it.

In just a split second, the bar was already past halfway.

Supervisor Voting in Progress: 67%

Another blink.

Supervisor Voting (Completed)

Central Authority Verification… (Countdown 30S)

As the countdown appeared, the historical voting approval rates of past Executors scrolled by on the side.

Jonathan Girard: 27.2%

Mervin Grant: 12.6%

Wusai: 44.9%

Maynard: 6%

…

Huh?

Ming Ruan stopped curling his toes and urgently tried to recall. To get full marks on this Supervisory Vote, it needed an approval rate over 66.6%, right?

No way? Really? He looked again.

Ming Ruan tensed up.

He had been somewhat confident he’d get a decent score, but seeing his colleagues all score so poorly, it seemed the supervisors must be very strict indeed.

Central Authority Verification… (Countdown 10S)

Thinking back carefully, he had also changed his script on the fly for today’s presentation. It could be called completely unscripted and free.

But, this was truly what he had wanted to say. Even if he had to do it over, he probably would say the same things.

He had no regrets.

Central Authority Verification… (Countdown 3… 2… 1)

Verification Complete

Ming Ruan instinctively closed his eyes briefly.

A moment later, the sound of footsteps approached. Someone stepped onto the stage and stood before him.

The golden light was partially blocked.

Ming Ruan opened his eyes to see Su Yuyun, also in a white official ceremonial uniform. His fingertip was touching the Light Brain screen in front of him.

Please have the Adjudicator (Su Yuyun) review the verification results and approve or raise a query.

Phew.

Up and down, his heart had skipped several beats.

Seems like it still wasn’t his turn yet.

Ming Ruan couldn’t help but sneak a peek up at Su Yuyun’s expression, trying to glean some information from his face.

But Ming Ruan failed.

With almost no hesitation, Su Yuyun replied to the Central Authority: “No objections. Approve the result.”

Then, he turned to Ming Ruan. “Probationary Executor of the Twelfth District, please review the voting results and publicly display them.”

Ming Ruan blinked, still immersed in his own speculation, not moving.

For a split second, he seemed to see the corner of Su Yuyun’s mouth—that line painted on his face that had never moved—gently curve up. The man before him lowered his voice and repeated, “Please review, Ming Ruan.”

Ming Ruan came back to his senses abruptly.

He steadied himself, didn’t delay any further, and simply tapped on it.