“PJ, what do we do?” Someone looked toward the black-haired youth in the corner.
PJ merely glanced indifferently at the leaderboard. “Outmatched in skill.” Either keep killing bugs or withdraw from the race. “Cooperation over. I’m leaving.”
They’d only teamed up to kill one Xenoid. No need to waste more words on them.
The youth’s nonchalant attitude infuriated the onlookers. “What’s so cocky about you? Just an utterly ordinary Eastern face, and such a half-assed name to boot.”
“No wonder they say Delphians are all freaks.”
PJ’s hearing was excellent, but he couldn’t be bothered to deal with these weaklings. The top ten on the leaderboard got one hour of networking time each day. Most used it to contact the outside world and discuss tactics, but PJ opened Li Ao’s livestream and sent a barrage comment: 【Little Cat Highness, come here come here (pervy blush laugh)】
【Upstairs pervy bro, you’re late today huh.】
This Xenoid was enormous—Li Ao needed ages just to circle around it once.
“How’d you guys get tangled in so many threads?” Fortunately, these threads were just like the Mantis Monster’s—one tug and they snapped right off. Way easier to sort out than Xun’s.
From the performance of yesterday’s eleven Xenoids and the short-leg cat’s words, the robot knew these monsters were afflicted by some kind of threads that only the little cat could see.
He could help relieve their pain, so they didn’t hurt him. But Xenoids were wild beasts—did they even know mercy? There had to be something holding them back, forcing them to suppress their urges and submit quietly.
Alpha-13 shifted its gaze to the little monster obediently staying by the short-leg cat’s side. What was its true goal?
What was Xun’s goal?
It was a superior being born from the Abyss. Its very existence was to devour and save its race. It could devour anything, yet it couldn’t even save itself. Not until it met Li Ao.
“Li Ao.” The little monster, still ignorant of human emotions, instinctively stuck to the warm glow like glue.
[Like so much]
[Like Li Ao so much]
The little cat got knocked over by its rubbing and scrambled across the ground to dodge the licks. “I get it, stop licking me!”
Xun’s mouth had no saliva—just an abrupt array of teeth and tongue. Its barbed tongue was dry and rough, scraping painfully against his fur.
The little monster looked at the fleeing little cat with grievance, cluelessly sticking out its tongue and stretching its paw to inspect it.
[It looks just like the little cat’s—why won’t it let me lick?]
Black-furred chestnut ball spits tongue in confusion.jpg
【Why’s this Xenoid just lying there? It even looks kinda pitiful…】
【Upstairs, take one look at those horns sharper than a knife blade before calling it pitiful (cold laugh). Zolax are the vanguard shock troops of the swarms—countless humans have died to those horns. Pitiful my ass.】
【Don’t let Regalis I’s power and uniqueness make you forget how brutal and bloody Zerg really are!】
Most viewers in Li Ao’s livestream seemed to default to assuming it was this little cat’s uniqueness that made the Zerg submit.
【Is it Spiritual Power?】
In the interstellar era, evolved humans awakened Spiritual Power—a form of consciousness energy transcending the physical body.
Spiritual Power could not only shatter physiological limits to grant humans enhanced perception, computation, and control, but in extreme cases, even influence external matter.
Spiritual Power values ranged from 0 to 100. Anything over 1 entered the realm of “new humanity.” Yet most new humans topped out below 20, and those breaking 30 were already peak powerhouses.
【History’s highest human Spiritual Power belonged to Delphi’s founding emperor, Regalis I. They say he held off an entire swarm with just a single sword.】
【Yup. The current upper benchmark for Spiritual Power measurements comes from Regalis I. Rumor has it even his descendant Isiris hit 100.】
【So Little Cat Highness is weak, helpless, short-legged… but with insane Spiritual Power?】
Spiritual Power could indeed push humans beyond their limits, but could human Spiritual Power really achieve something like this?
Outsiders had no clue, but Isiris knew full well—this little cat was seriously off.
The blond emperor held a chess piece in hand. “Any reply from the Federation?”
Shen Que replied, “The Federation says there’s an issue with the monitor’s stellar positioning device. Even after reconnecting, they still can’t pinpoint His Highness’s coordinates.”
“His Highness?” Isiris gave him a flat glance. “We don’t even know if it is or not.”
This cat’s appearance was far too suspicious. Caution was warranted.
“I won’t accept that excuse. Pressure the Federation. Since they announced to the world that this is a descendant of my Regalis line, they’d better cough up the proof.”
Such overbearing words. He was the one who’d agreed to the announcement in the first place, and now he was turning the tables.
The loyal hound didn’t question it. He simply bowed his head, made his move, and acknowledged the order. Then he asked, “Shall we inform the royal family members and the public about the little cat?”
Delphians disliked tech-heavy lifestyles. The entire planet’s information was sealed off, and everything about the little cat remained solely under the emperor’s control—no leaks.
“Not yet.” Isiris’s sharp eyes lowered slightly. “If it truly is Zane’s descendant, then we’ll bring it back.” The upturned corner of his eye turned icy cold. “But if it’s a trap set by the Federation…”
He tossed the chess piece onto the board. Clearly, his mood for the game was gone.
“Demand the Federation sync their signal link to Delphi. At the same time, dispatch fleets to search for planets matching the desert profile. True or false, I’ll hold the initiative.” A treasured sword materialized out of thin air, and he strode away.
“Yes.” The purple-eyed man good-naturedly cleaned up the mess for him.
—
Li Ao was exhausted from tugging. He flopped onto the Xenoid’s massive head, idly lifting a paw now and then.
“The Mantis Monsters still aren’t here.” The little cat yawned, tears welling up.
Xun tried linking to those few Xenoids, but they were too far away to connect. “Li Ao.”
“Oh… maybe they went off to play somewhere far…” He was so sleepy that midway through talking, his head lolled to the side and his eyes drifted shut.
The C-Rank Xenoid remained prostrated on the ground, sensing the tiny warmth atop its head. It had never felt such pleasure before—the satisfaction from having its mental domain sorted far surpassed devouring all its prey combined.
And the source of this “far surpassed” was already snoring away.
Xun wasn’t some beast that loved sharing. To it, these low-rank Xenoids were just fodder it could devour—emergency rations at best.
The only reason it allowed them near Li Ao and to receive grooming was because the little cat needed it. It didn’t understand human relationships, but it could sense that the little cat required trades and dependence—these things made the little cat happy.
“Li Ao.” It had already grown four legs but still couldn’t walk, so it hopped over to the little cat’s side and rubbed against him. “Li Ao.”
Fierce Cat was out cold three seconds after hitting the ground. His short limbs stuck straight up in the air, his white fluffy belly rising and falling rhythmically with his snores.
Xun eyed the little cat, wanting to pick him up. But its paws were too short. After fumbling for ages without success, it disturbed the little cat’s sleep and got slapped for its trouble.
It lacked any sense of aesthetics and had simply mimicked the little cat’s paws, but it had no idea how to use them. Now looking at its hands, it suddenly had its own idea: too short. Couldn’t hold the little cat. Super inconvenient.
But all the long-handed things it had seen were ugly (Mantis Monsters, robots). It didn’t want to turn out like them, so it held its paws up in annoyed frustration, at a loss.
“AL0731.” The robot, having repaired the energy field, called up from below the Xenoid. “The sky’s turning red. We need to head back to base.”
The little monster dropped its paws and squinted down. “Li Ao sleeping.”
This was the first time Alpha-13 had properly heard the little monster make a human-like sound—and in ancient Chinese, no less. The robot froze for several seconds before climbing up the Xenoid’s rugged body to the top. There, it found the short-leg cat belly-up with zero defenses, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth in sleep.
【Did that black ball just talk? Why’d it get mosaiced and muted? (dumbfounded)】
The monitor’s programming had been tampered with by Alpha-13—now nothing but cat meows could transmit.
【Dunno why, but I’m seeing speechless vibes on the robot’s face.】
【For real, it’s so magical. Everything around the little cat feels inexplicably humanized?】
【Hallucinating or what (rubs eyes)】
“Let’s go.” Alpha-13 scooped the dead-to-the-world little cat into the crook of its arm. Passing the little monster, it paused, then extended a mechanical arm to pick it up too.
Xun blinked, hopped to the little cat’s side, curled up, and snuggled in tight.
So ugly.
The robot silently snarked. Black to begin with, and now sporting a giant red bowtie? What kind of taste was that?
The monitor was once again cut off from the base by the energy field, able to glimpse only the robot’s receding back from afar before it vanished from sight.
【This planet feels so weird…】 After several days, people had started noticing something blocking the monitors from following.
【So barren, yet sporting such a massive energy field. Even on the bustling Federation Capital Star, protective fields are only in the central zones.】
【Yeah, the funds needed for an energy field this size… I don’t even wanna think about it. What planet is this? Anyone got the star system coordinates?】
The Federation was also racking its brains. What the hell was this place? Even their most cutting-edge tracking tech couldn’t lock on.
“Sir, information from Delphi.”
The Federation’s leader had just finished reading it when his blood pressure skyrocketed. “A rundown, backward monarchical planet actually dares to threaten the Federation government!”
How could it not dare? Someone muttered inwardly, He dares to threaten you—do you dare to threaten him?
“We cannot sync the link to them.” Qin Mian stood up. “The monitor involves core technology; non-Federation members cannot share the link.”
“Of course we can’t give it.” A smiling man said, “Technology is secondary. It’s just that we can’t let Delphi find this cat first.”
“Exactly. Intelligence reports that Delphi’s external fleet is assembling for a search—they’ve already begun looking.”
“We can’t let them get the jump on us. Controlling this cat gives us leverage to suppress Delphi.”
Even if this kitten wasn’t Regalis’s descendant, his ability to suppress Xenoids alone was worth deploying an entire division to find him.
A division?
If these people knew the heights Li Ao would one day reach, they’d probably regret not throwing everything they had at it right now.
Pity there are no ifs in this world—fate just loves these coincidences.
The robot, predisposed to favor Delphi because of the Builder’s existence, had only left a faint positional clue in the monitor—one that only Delphi’s people could puzzle out.
And this remarkably farsighted robot was now standing stone-faced at the base entrance, staring at the base as it was wrapped and entwined by green vines.
“AL0731, get up.” The robot grabbed the cat’s tail and gave it a shake. “Get up and look at the damn thing your seed has grown into.”