“It’s a seed! The one I picked up!” Little Li Cat came pitter-pattering over and rummaged through his little bundle, pulling things out one by one.
“Biscuit!” Not sure if it was.
“Canned food?” His tone wasn’t too certain either.
“Sticker!” He held up the sticker, which had faded more than halfway.
Biscuits and canned food were edible, but what could you do with a sticker? It was just about to open its mouth to teach him not to pick up useless junk when it saw his paw quickly tear the sticker open.
“Li Ao’s gonna stick it on your tummy oh.”
Alpha-13: ???
Its electronic eyes began flashing red light frantically.
The mechanical voice practically did the splits in fright: “What are you doing?”
Li Ao’s paw froze as he watched it retreat nonstop. Tilting his head innocently, he said, “To stick it on you ah. It looks so good—I specially picked it up for you.”
The germaphobe Alpha-13 coldly refused. The short-legged cat pouted, not too happy.
After a few minutes of standoff, the all-white nanny robot— sporting a belly full of dusty stickers and a cold expression—plopped the cat into the bathtub for a good scrub-a-dub.
The obediently drying Fur Chestnut Ball spotted this and flapped a few times, wanting to get out.
The robot turned its head and saw the high-temperature sterilizer that the short-legged cat had turned into a dryer, exchanging a glance with the little monster that was about to be roasted. Then it looked down at the short-legged cat doggy-paddling away…
It really left the machine speechless.
—
After his bath, Li Ao picked up the seed to plant it. The weightless Fur Chestnut Ball chomped onto his tail and followed along behind the cat’s butt.
Alpha-13 watched as he pushed the flowerpot along, gripping the shovel with both paws in a laborious attempt to dig the soil. It stated the facts: “This bag of seeds has already lost its viability and cannot grow into living plants.”
It had scanned them upon discovery and confirmed they were dead seeds. Even if they weren’t, humans had long been unable to mass-produce crops since before the Star Era.
With polluted land and the ravaging Zerg, even if the outside world had made some major technological breakthrough over the past century to grow fresh vegetables, that wouldn’t extend to this abandoned place.
Aurilion’s land was largely desertified. What little black soil remained was heavily polluted, and the dirt in this flowerpot was probably left behind by researchers a hundred years ago—now hard as an iron lump.
“You won’t be able to grow it.” Alpha-13 reminded him. It figured that if he planted it only for nothing to sprout, this kitten would throw a delicate hissy fit and cry.
“No way.” The not-delicate-at-all Macho Cat was brimming with confidence as he stuck his butt up in the air and waved the shovel around. “Li Ao’s super good at growing veggies. It’ll definitely sprout into a tomato tree!”
He might be young, but he’d been helping Grandma with farmwork since early on. He had nearly two years of experience by the age of not-quite-six and was personally certified by Grandma as a little farming pro.
That said… having a cat with 5-centimeter legs try to shovel the ground was really pushing it.
After digging for ages, the iron-lump soil didn’t budge an inch. The stubbornly defiant short-legged cat immediately went to war with it.
Clang clang clang—smashing away nonstop, defeated in battle after battle yet battling defeat after defeat, never once thinking to ask for help. Talk about stubborn where legs were short, stubborn where strength was lacking—stubborn until he was seeing red, baring his teeth like he was about to chomp it.
(●─●)…
The robot combed through its past experiences but had truly never encountered anything like this.
Li Ao gripped the shovel and slammed it vertically—clang clang—for over a dozen times until he finally smashed that dirt clod apart. He lifted a paw to wipe his sweat, shot a sneaky sideways glance at the robot in the distance, then proudly puffed out his chest and loudly declared to the Fur Chestnut Ball, “Xun! Isn’t Li Ao super awesome? Super useful!”
“Li Ao!” As if in agreement, the black dumpling let out two perfectly pronounced words.
“You can talk now?” The little cat’s face lit up with obvious delight. “Say it one more time for Li Ao to hear oh.”
“Li Ao!”
The little monster kept calling the short-legged cat’s name, rubbing hard against that fluffy cat chest.
Alpha-13 wasn’t human and wouldn’t lose any San value (sanity). It just found its yowling gross and clingy.
But this idiot kitten clearly didn’t think so. He patted it with a fully satisfied look and praised, “Good little doggy. So smart.”
The robot eyed the monitoring ring on the little monster’s head as its processor pondered how to electrocute it.
—
Alpha-13 fulfilled its promise, though Li Ao had no idea it had ever made one.
“The Zerg—also called Xenoids—are the most terrifying creatures in the universe.” The robot pointed at the big screen, giving the kitten a lesson. “They’re bloodthirsty and brutal. They devour everything, even their own kind. Some species even possess extremely high intelligence and are unusually cunning…”
Li Ao’s fur was all puffed up. Exhausted after a full day of hard work, his eyes were dazed as he sat slumped on the ground, his thumb-length legs splayed out while hugging the Fur Chestnut Ball and staring at the monsters on the screen.
“Did you get what I said?” the robot asked, assuming he’d been scared stupid.
The little cat, busy all day, was already extremely sleepy. He rubbed his eyes and mustered his spirits. “I got it.”
The robot froze the horrific image on the big screen and gave the kitten a once-over. He didn’t seem afraid at all?
Puzzled, it glanced at the screen, then pulled up records of other cubs’ reactions to Xenoids for comparison. No matter how it looked at it, this cat’s heart was way too big.
Little did it know, Li Ao’s grandma had a fondness for a certain type of sci-fi flicks—like that one called Alien. Picking up on it from constant exposure, Li Ao had an extremely high mental threshold for such visuals. He wasn’t scared at all.
Alpha-13 found him too weird, nothing like those whiny, noisy cubs outside.
Seeing his eyelids drooping and his head bobbing, the robot shut off the big screen. “Go to sleep.”
Li Ao immediately picked up his little doggy and wiggled his butt toward the small cardboard box. “Xun, you’re sleeping with Li Ao oh.”
—
That night, the robot silently approached Li Ao’s side.
There was an infant pod available, but this kitten preferred a box meant for packing stuff. Curled up inside like a pancake, he was snoring away.
The clump of black monster was pinned beneath him, perfectly quiet.
Alpha-13 extended its mechanical arm toward Li Ao. When the distance shrank to just five centimeters, its movement was blocked by some invisible force and could advance no further. It tried applying more force, but to no avail.
“It’s you.” The electronic voice sounded as it met a pair of red eyes.
The base room gradually faded away. Before Alpha-13’s eyes materialized an endless expanse of darkness. The space was eerily still, yet a low hum faintly emanated from it—like from some unspeakable Abyss.
A human appearing here would go insane in an instant, but it was merely a robot without emotions or a soul. Alpha-13 stared at the crimson vertical pupils hovering in midair, asking in a calm tone, “What are you?”
“Xun.” The name he had given it.
The voice was indescribable. The robot tried to record it but found it couldn’t capture anything.
“What’s your purpose in following the short-legged cat?”
It gave no further reply.
All things were mere ants. The Abyss gazed down upon the insignificant mechanical body, proclaiming its contempt.
Alpha-13 raised its mechanical arm. The metal at the tip had already twisted and melted—no, its entire body was melting, annihilating into the boundless darkness.
It remembered the monitoring ring and hit the button, but the other party showed no reaction whatsoever. A current that powerful couldn’t harm it in the slightest.
I might be dying.
Though it was a robot with no physiological death, it knew this time it was truly over.
Not a bad way to go. Its long, repetitive standby mode had no meaning anyway. It was just that kitten—wonder if he’d feel even a tiny bit sad when he found it gone.
Alpha-13 calmly watched the traces of its existence fade away bit by bit.
“Awu—” A sleepy yawn suddenly echoed through the void.
Li Ao had woken up in the night and was rubbing his eyes as he called out, “Alpha? Xun? Where are you guys oh?”
He was looking for them.
As the voice rang out, the robot saw a surge of some indescribable emotion rapidly flood those cold crimson eyes.
“He needs you. I will spare you.”
In an instant, the darkness vanished entirely, and the familiar scene reappeared.
“Alpha, what are you standing here for?” The short-legged cat stood upright on two feet with the monster perched on his head. His little paw patted the robot’s body. “Did you have a nightmare? Don’t be scared oh—dreams are all fake.”
Alpha-13 raised its mechanical arm and found it perfectly intact, without a trace of melting. Its electronic eye met the beastly pupil for a moment before it lowered its arm and calmly said, “Machines don’t dream.”
“Oh, that’s kinda too bad oh. You can’t eat steamed buns in your dreams then.” The short-legged cat huddled his two paws in front of him, shivering. “Can’t hold it anymore—Li Ao’s gotta pee first oh!” With that, he bolted toward the flowerpot. “Veggies, Li Ao’s here to fertilize you oh!”
The robot stayed calm facing the unknown monster, but this line scared its circuit board numb. “Stop! Don’t pee there!”
A clean freak like Alpha-13 couldn’t tolerate it!
Li Ao pouted as he sat on the toilet, unhappily declaring, “You gotta fertilize the veggies to make ’em grow fast.”
“Quit dreaming about something that won’t sprout. Get back to your nest and sleep.” The robot coldly wiped his butt.
“Why won’t it sprout?” His little paw slapped the ground defiantly. “Everything Li Ao plants will definitely sprout!”
Too many things had happened, and the robot was too lazy to argue with a kitten right now. It tossed the cat into the cardboard box and walked off: “That’s a dead seed. It’d be a damn miracle if that sprouted.”
And yet, it really was a miracle.
Alpha-13 stared at the vibrant green sprout poking out of the flower pot, its face getting slapped left and right.
“Why… why did it sprout? Is there a bug in my program?” The robot plunged into self-doubt.
Li Ao, however, didn’t find anything strange about it. While the robot was frozen, he ate his breakfast on his own and chatted a bit with the sprout. Then he shouldered his bag and prepared to head out trash-picking.
“Alpha, I’m off!” The little cat waved goodbye to the robot. Seeing it still blankly fixated on the flower pot and completely ignoring him, he gave it a look like it was some country bumpkin who’d never seen the world before, and said to the furry chestnut ball, “We’re gonna pick lots more seeds today, so we can grow more veggies!”
“Pick seeds,” Xun parroted, copying his tone.
“Yeah! Li Ao’s taking you to pick ’em!”
—
The sky was blue, the sand fine, the clouds light and wispy. The crimson sky and frost that had terrified Li Ao were long gone by morning.
He clutched a small twig and poked around in the garbage heap, picking through it carefully. Xun mimicked his every move, hopping about here and there.
“Xun, I found a toy for you!” Li Ao pulled a round ball from deep in the trash pile and set it on the ground, giving it a gentle kick. It went rolling off with a rumble.
“Aiya!” Li Ao froze for a second, then his eyes lit up. He wiggled his butt, kicked off with his hind legs, and pounced after the ball.
“Come play too, Xun!” He called out to the bewildered black fuzzball, inviting him into the game. The two little ones took turns kicking and nudging it along. The metal ball rolled rumbling across the ground as Li Ao zeroed in on it and launched himself in a flying pounce—only to miss completely.
“Huh? Why’d it fly away?” Li Ao’s four paws were buried in the sand as he dumbly watched the ball soar higher and higher.
He had no idea that the round ball wasn’t a toy at all. It was a live monitoring device from the Dawn League.
The device had been powerless and dormant for years, but it had just reactivated—and now it had identified Li Ao as a contestant, starting a full live broadcast.
