The robot had always wanted to give the short-legged cat a full physical examination, but the lab egg hatching area lacked testing equipment, so it hadn’t been able to before. Now that the living area was open, it could finally give him a comprehensive checkup.
AI broadcast: [Scanning in progress……]
[Breed: Primitive Munchkin Cat] Anyone with eyes could see that.
[Fur color: Gold with white] A bit like a calico.
[Shoulder height: 12cm] Very much in line with the breed.
[Leg length: 4.55cm] Sure enough, under 5 centimeters.
[Weight: 25kg]
“……” Wait, what did you say? 25kg? This tiny furball weighs 50 jin?
The robot’s electronic eyes trembled.
Li Ao heard the voice broadcast and proudly flicked up his tail. He still remembered Grandma weighing him before at something like 24-point-something kilos. “I haven’t lost weight! Grandma will definitely praise me for taking good care of myself!”
Alpha-13 pressed down the cat’s tail, which was about to ascend to the heavens in smugness, and prepared to test its hypothesis. “Can you shift back to human form?”
“How would I do that?” The short-legged cat was confidently clueless, making the robot feel like its CPU was aching. Records on Complete Evolutionary Bodies were already scarce to begin with, let alone present-day feline ones—there was only Delphi’s royal Regalis.
And all records on Delphi were top secret; nothing was available in open databases. It could only infer: “Imagine it. Imagine yourself turning into a human.”
Fierce Cat thought about it. Fierce Cat tried really hard. But Fierce Cat just couldn’t.
Just as the robot was at a loss, the little monster hopped over to the little cat’s side. “Li Ao.”
“Huh? Need a human reference, right?” Li Ao looked up. “Machine, got any humans to reference?”
“……” Alpha-13 was afraid of ruining him with bad examples and carefully selected a video of a kid around the right age that fit machine aesthetics to show the cat.
Li Ao stared at the screen, frowning and straining, and amazingly, he actually shifted back.
“Wow—” He happily wiggled his hands and feet. “I turned human!”
There was a mirror right ahead. With no shame whatsoever, he crawled over naked to check himself out. Little hands touched his face, satisfied. “Same as before, just the eye color changed.” His originally black pupils had become blue.
As the kid excitedly posed in front of the mirror, Xun was also staring intently at him, studying.
[Hands, long.]
How long could a kid’s hands and feet be? But compared to the short-legged cat’s 4.55cm claws, they were worlds longer.
Xun had long been frustrated that its short limbs couldn’t properly hug the cat and had disdained shifting toward the mantis monster or robot since they were ugly. Now, seeing the kid’s human form, its eyes instantly lit up red.
[Like it. Stay like this.]
So when the robot returned with clothes, what it saw was a naked kid next to a little monster that had sprouted two human-like arms.
This scene was really too sanity-draining.
The robot glitched, stiffly dressing the kid in a white T-shirt. Finally unable to take it, it closed its eyes and told the little monster, “Change back!”
Xun ignored it, but when the little cat said it didn’t look good, it changed back.
“This form looks good.” The kid patted Xun’s head. “Yours just now with those long arms looked weird.”
The little monster blinked. It still wanted long arms. It planned to practice shifting on its own and only show him once it looked as nice as the little cat.
Alpha-13 breathed a sigh of relief and beckoned Li Ao over to continue the body scan.
[Weighing in progress. Your weight is 25 kilograms.]
As expected, ever since the little cat’s change during the last crisis, he had broken through his body’s limits. Though his appearance was still feline, his weight stayed at human levels. No wonder those two little paws packed more punch when they thumped it……
Alpha-13 pulled back its wandering thoughts and continued the checks. All metrics were normal; health status excellent. In fact, his physical data not only met age standards but was practically perfect. This could be because the lab egg had been nurtured to perfect specs from the start, or perhaps unconscious mental interference on his part. After all, the kid said he looked the same as before.
The robot wanted to test Li Ao’s mental value, but mental scanners were expensive and had been taken away by humans along with them from Aurilion. Helplessly, this test had to be shelved for now.
The AI continued broadcasting: [Contamination value: 0]
This should be normal, but it actually wasn’t.
Human genes inherently carried the Doom Virus to begin with—the difference was only whether it activated. Normal cubs’ contamination was usually under 5; zero was definitely abnormal.
The robot scanned the little monster next and found its contamination had dropped from 100 on the last scan to 90.
Its contamination value had regressed. Even more impossible. But this miracle had indeed occurred.
“Li Ao, you absolutely cannot tell anyone that you can see the lines and pull on them.”
The kid lifted his head, puzzled. “I never told anyone to begin with.”
The robot wanted to sneer at his righteous little attitude. He might not have said he could see them, but no one tugged faster than those little claws of his.
Whatever. With that brain of his only remembering food and drink, better to drill it in repeatedly.
—
Li Ao’s human form couldn’t last long—half an hour at most—before he’d shift back into a little cat. And shifting took a huge toll; he’d skipped lunch and was already snoring away.
Alpha-13 carried the cat back to his nest, where the little short legs automatically stretched out, stuffing the tiny paper box to the brim.
Xun, as usual, wanted to snuggle with the little cat, but the robot blocked it. “Can you take me to Crex? You know, the mantis monsters the little cat groomed.”
“If he wants to go home, he needs contact with the outside. And I need to grasp the situation to better protect him.”
The little monster blinked and agreed.
[There’s visuals now. Sees the robot. Huh? How come there’s only the black-furred chestnut ball and the robot? Where’s my damn cat!]
Alpha-13 and Xun weren’t bound to the monitor drone, so it stayed hovering in place without following.
They reached a sand dune, where Xun stopped and released a special frequency only Xenoids could sense.
A few minutes later, the sand trembled faintly. Rustling sounds came from all directions. Alpha-13 looked around to find itself completely surrounded by Xenoids.
With the little cat absent, these Xenoids dropped all restraint, their true nature fully revealed. Sharp mouthparts clicked open and shut, terrifying compound eyes locked on the machine. If not for Xun’s oppressive presence holding them back, they’d have pounced long ago.
Xun stood atop the dune, quietly overlooking them, its beastly pupils like a bloody abyss.
Finally, one Xenoid slowly approached, arching its body and lowering its head to Xun. Then more followed suit. They looked stronger and more terrifying than the little monster, yet they chose to submit to it.
“Scan them,” Xun said.
Alpha-13 stepped forward, scanning each Xenoid in turn. Without exception, they were all infected with the virus to varying degrees.
For thousands of years, Xenoids’ contamination had always been zero—no anomalies detected. And now, just as the little monster said, they were infected.
“If left unchecked, they’ll all turn into Xenoid Variants in the end?”
“Yes,” Xun replied. “Some fast, some slow, but infection starts the mutation.”
“You can control them now, but once the mutation completes, you’ll lose your hold over them?”
The statement irked the Great Old One. Xun narrowed its eyes. “I can kill them.”
But Alpha-13 already understood. It glanced at those Xenoids the little cat had once brought back and stated the fact: “Li Ao can help you retain your sense of self.”
The Zerg and humans were eternal, irreconcilable foes, but it couldn’t be denied—they fought only for survival. To Xenoids, humans were just food, the same as how tigers viewed prey. Beastly instinct dictated their stance.
Their struggle stemmed from instinct. Just like super-social insects such as ants and bees that submit to their queen, the lower-level Xenoids among them would also yield to the higher ones.
But Xenoid Variants were different. The Xenoid Variants had completely lost their self-awareness. They had no hierarchy, no cognition, and couldn’t even maintain the most basic laws of survival. They were like out-of-control viruses, only knowing to devour and expand indiscriminately until everything was exhausted, unable to sustain even themselves.
The robot said, “They submit to you because of rank. They are friendly to Li Ao because of benefits.”
Xun let out a word: “Transaction.”
This was a word the little cat liked, and also a word Xun liked. “They help the little cat, and the little cat helps them too. That’s a transaction.”
The robot glanced around at the numerous Xenoids and noticed there were no shortage of massive C-Rank ones like Zolax.
“Even if the little cat can help you all, he is just a cat with only four legs. How is he supposed to take care of so many of you?”
This was exactly what Xun was troubled about.
“First, order them not to devour the infected corpses, to avoid deepening the contamination. At the same time, have them patrol the surroundings to ensure the Xenoid Variants can’t approach the energy field range. In exchange, the little cat can help them purge the contamination in batches. The rest, leave it to me for experimentation.”
The little monster that hadn’t received any memory inheritance pondered the robot’s words and found no flaws. Plus, this was better for the little cat’s safety, so it agreed.
Heh— so what if it was liked by the short-legged cat? Its brain was just like a cat’s: it had a little, but not much.
What it promised wasn’t what the little cat promised. If the little cat couldn’t handle it by then, you lot can fight it out yourselves.
Alpha-13 was, after all, a machine that had inherited data from thousands of years. Dealing with this dumb little monster that was just like the short-legged cat—newly born and clueless—was a piece of cake.
“Bad Machine!” The short-legged cat’s shout suddenly echoed inexplicably in the robot’s CPU. It froze for a moment, looked back, and didn’t see the cat, then relaxed its program.
The little cat had no idea the bad machine was using his name to freeload off these bugs for work. The little cat was dreaming.
He dreamed of that ice peak they had climbed a few days ago.
Sunlight shone on the snowy summit, and it actually spoke. It said, “Li Ao… please save me… Li Ao… please come to my side…”
