Xenoids exhibit nesting behavior when breeding offspring.
This was the conclusion Shelby reached while tracking the Crex known as Mantis Monster No. 1.
That E-Rank Xenoid was nearing delivery. Its nest was built in a deep depression among the sand dunes, with a shell in mottled gray-white hues, its surface covered in irregular wrinkles and holes. The Xenoid’s secretions mingled with mucus, forming a semi-transparent membrane. The male Crex stood guard at the entrance, so Shelby couldn’t get close. He could only rely on a high-precision scanner to probe from afar, sensing the situation inside the nest.
“How peculiar.” Shelby crossed his arms, eyeing the male Xenoid that crouched motionlessly at the entrance without eating or drinking. “I’ve never heard of Xenoids displaying this kind of nest-guarding behavior.”
Though humanity had never successfully delved deep into The Abyss before this and knew nothing of Xenoid breeding mechanisms, given their cruel and cold-blooded nature, it was hard to believe they would show behavior so akin to protection.
“Their cognition has no concept of familial bonds. Cannibalism is routine when food sources run dry.” Shelby, clad in a protective suit, leaned down and lightly touched the edge of the nest with his fingertip. The slick mucus instantly drew out a thin strand, corroding a charred hole in his suit.
“Tch.” Shelby shook his hand, unable to halt the corrosion, and tossed the glove aside.
“Sir—” a guard warned, “That Crex is moving.”
Shelby looked up and sure enough, saw the low-rank Xenoid that had been squatting in vigil rise to its feet. It cracked open its mouthparts toward one direction, emitting a shrill cry like cheers of joy.
“…” Shelby had seen countless Xenoids and knew their ferocity and savagery well. He didn’t need to turn around to know that the only thing capable of eliciting such an abnormal reaction from it was that cat.
“Mantis Monster No. 2!” The little cat, having tumbled enough on the snowy mountains, was now joyfully scampering across the soft sands.
Its short legs pumped up and down over the dunes. One foot slipped, and it simply tumbled head over heels down the slope.
The energy-saving little cat stood up, shook the sand from its fur, and brazenly greeted Shelby with its fluffy cat chest puffed out: “Grandpa.”
Shelby was so charmed by him that his breath hitched. Just as he reached out to scoop him up, a guard yanked him away in an instant.
Mantis Monster No. 2 had already appeared where they had just stood, sprawled on the ground, making eerie, creepy noises like it was coquettishly begging.
“Oh, then I’ll head in to take a look.” Humanity still had no idea how the little cat communicated with these Xenoids. In fact, even Li Ao himself was fuzzy on it—he just knew he could understand them.
“Your Highness, you can’t go in.” The guard blocked the cat heading toward the cave, pointing at the corrosive mucus spreading to the nest’s edge. “It’ll hurt you.”
But before he could finish, everyone present froze. The secretions and mucus had parted on their own, revealing a narrow path wide enough to walk through.
Shelby immediately grabbed his equipment. “I’ll go in with you.” But before he could take a step, his foot was ensnared. Gray-white mucus with intense corrosiveness surged up along the sand and stuck to his shoe cover, hissing with white smoke. Shelby’s expression changed, and he immediately halted.
In that split second, the little cat had already dragged Xun inside.
It was hard to describe the scene inside the cave. Imperceptible sticky threads floated in the air, the narrow passage slick and viscous, the gray-white walls bulging then rapidly collapsing.
Anyone who saw this would feel a chill down their spine. It wasn’t about bravery or cowardice—it was humanity’s innate revulsion toward the alien.
But the little cat was oblivious to how terrifying it was, strutting in with chest out and limbs splayed like he was window-shopping.
During delivery, a female Xenoid’s energy breaks through rank limits, effortlessly crushing same-rank creatures. No creature could approach their nests—not even mates, since devouring one’s mate for stamina was commonplace for them.
Yet in such a place, it accepted an outsider without defenses. Not due to the pressure of a superior, but simply because he was Li Ao.
The little cat dashed along the path and found Mantis Monster No. 1 at the tunnel’s end. Its abdomen was prominently swollen, its already horrific mouthparts twisted even more ferociously in pain.
“How are you?” Li Ao carefully placed a paw on the Mantis Monster. “Does it hurt a lot?”
He and Grandma had watched tons of TV dramas, including scenes of mothers giving birth. He knew having babies was tough. “What should we do?” He wanted to help but didn’t know how.
It was hard to imagine seeing affection on a Xenoid’s face. Mantis Monster No. 1 gently touched the little cat with a forelimb. Li Ao received some information and turned to look at Xun.
At some point, that little coal ball had become a beautiful child. Unlike before when it mimicked others’ appearances, this time it had its own form. His ruby-like eyes regarded the Xenoid without emotion—he needed none for them. Low-rank Xenoids were born to obey superiors and be dominated by them. No. 1, No. 2, Mantis Monsters, Cow Monsters—he saw no difference between them and any other. Xun couldn’t even comprehend the little cat’s favoritism toward them, but he wanted the little cat to be happy.
So he nodded at the still-dazed little cat, agreeing to what he was about to do next.
Li Ao stared at Xun for a good while, then suddenly shifted to human form too. The black-haired, blue-eyed kid took two steps forward and wrapped Xun in his warm little arms.
The black-haired, red-eyed Xun froze for a moment, then returned the hug seconds later.
This was their first embrace in human form. Xun narrowed his eyes, carefully sensing the warmth transmitted from the other’s body.
He possessed superhuman learning ability. His appearance was generated to the little cat’s preferences, his body sculpted to perfect human proportions.
Like a human, he had a heart too. It beat on the left, the right forever silent. But when Li Ao hugged him, that heartbeat pressed right against his own right chest. In that moment, Xun vaguely felt a second heart grow in his body.
This external, uncontrollable heartbeat surprisingly felt quite nice to the Xenoid.
“Xun.” Li Ao’s human form was a bit shorter than Xun’s mimicry. He looked up, his slightly round blue eyes—still childish—holding a light that mesmerized the Xenoid. “Thank you.”
Li Ao wasn’t dumb. In fact, instinct told him many things. He was too young to grasp exactly what Xun’s permission meant, but he knew it was something very important to Xun.
The child released his hold and turned to place his hands on Mantis Monster No. 1.
Golden specks of light overflowed from his palms, gently merging into the low-rank Xenoid’s body.
Xenoids were born of The Abyss, unconditionally submitting to superiors. But today, one Xenoid would birth an offspring no longer bound to obey superiors. That offspring would be nurtured by a human’s Spiritual Power, no longer kneeling before The Abyss’s throne—it would become his follower.
In human terms, this was like a monarch handing their military power to another nation’s throne.
Yet Xun simply watched quietly, indifferently—even indulgently—allowing the little cat to share everything that was his.
Mantis Monster No. 1 gazed silently at the child before it. It should have died, for Xenoid reproduction always came at the cost of destruction. The offspring would burst from its body, tearing skin and devouring flesh—that was instinct, destiny.
But the child changed everything.
The glowing child stood before it, small palm against its swollen abdomen. The golden Spiritual Power seeped in gently, and it survived.
“Hey!” The little cat scowled and impatiently kicked the little Xenoid. “I’m telling your mom!”
That was the offspring Mantis Monster No. 1 had birthed—silvery white all over, its carapace gleaming with wet metallic sheen. Its back arched high, six legs long and ending in hook-like curves. Its head wasn’t fully formed, the face like flame-scorched residue, charred and rough. No eyes—instead, vertical slits like torn wounds, constantly twitching faintly and making sounds.
The little cat had been eagerly awaiting the bug baby’s birth, but in just over ten minutes after hatching, this guy had grown bigger than its parents.
And it was clingy and annoying, chattering nonstop—so much that even the talkative little cat couldn’t stand it.
Shelby rubbed the stubble on his chin, watching the newborn Xenoid circle the little cat endlessly without pause. Only when the kid called Xun picked up the cat did it retract its cheeks and warily retreat to safety.
“Little Logic.” Li Ao said sternly to the whining little Xenoid trying to approach: “You stay by your bug mom’s side and don’t cause trouble for everyone.”
It wasn’t that the little cat was harsh with a newborn Xenoid—it was just too annoying. Curious about everything and unable to control its strength, it had already caused plenty of trouble in this short time.
“Don’t trample the tomato seedlings!” The little cat watched heartbrokenly as the frolicking Xenoid stomped the sprouts in the field every which way.
The sprouts sensed the little cat’s gaze, seductively twisting their bodies before tilting their heads, pretending to be completely spent.
The xenoid that the little cat called Little Logic immediately unleashed a teeth-grinding screech. Its six legs slipped on the ground as it charged straight into the nursery.
“Mantis Monster No. 2!” The little cat’s fur suddenly bristled as he called out to the low-level xenoid fetching water in the distance. “You handle it!”
Hearing the command, the low-level xenoid carefully set down the small bucket. Its six legs crawled at top speed, rustling over to stand in front of Little Logic. It raised a foreleg and smacked it right into the dirt, spanking its butt pa pa pa just like a human parent disciplining a naughty child.
The little cat panicked again, hurriedly stretching out his paws to break it up. “No hitting!”
Violence in education is a no-go! Fierce Cat shook his head repeatedly, his big tail wagging like an exclamation mark. He planted his little paws to block both sides’ movements. Then he stood in the middle with paws on hips, twisting his head to scold the one on the left, then turning back to nag the one on the right. Adorably fierce, he pointed at them one by one, lecturing away.
The sun set in the west, its afterglow spilling over the freshly turned sandy soil. A streak of gold and red stretched the shadows of the distant mountains. The Delphi people, finished with their farming, stood along the field ridges covered in dust—but not a single one left.
They watched that xenoid, once the very synonym for humanity’s nightmares, slinking about with a crestfallen look as it accepted a lesson from a little cat.
“What in the actual hell!” someone muttered under their breath.
Before this, to humans, xenoids were beasts, monsters, inhuman archenemies without a shred of mercy.
But after the little cat arrived, the Delphi people had watched with their own eyes as they were tamed into the most docile dogs.
“…” Someone even began to wonder. “Under Highness’s guidance, could these bizarre xenoids help humanity strike back against the xenoid variants?”
In ancient times, humans tamed hunting dogs to fight wolf packs. So what about now?
“We have to be good bugs!” the little cat shouted at the top of his lungs. “No eating people, and no destroying their stuff! Especially you—Little Logic!” He jabbed a little claw. “You broke the doctor’s instruments. Go apologize!”
On the terrifying face of the xenoid called Little Logic, a hint of grievance actually appeared. It dashed swiftly toward the direction the little cat had pointed.
