Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Chop, chop, chop…"

Yale deftly sliced a tomato into thin slices, arranging them on a plate. Lowering his head, he looked at the hovering 015 and said, "Give it a try."

015 nodded solemnly, taking the knife. However, a spark flickered in its mechanical arm as it descended, causing the angle to shift, and the tomato tumbled into the sink with a gurgle.

"I-I'm sorry."

It stammered, its screen displaying a weeping emoji.

"The new battery works well, but the circuitry is severely aged. It occasionally sparks and leaks electricity… It's difficult for me to perform precise actions."

Yale had found 015 a year ago, a silly little robot that, with its last bit of power, helped him find his keys and wished him a pleasant evening with crackling sounds, unaware of its impending malfunction.

Touched by its dedication, Yale took it in.

However, 015 was an outdated model, and repairs were impossible. He resorted to charging it in the hope that it might reboot on its own. After a full month of charging, it finally came back to life.

"Never mind."

Yale picked up the tomato to rinse it, tapping 015's head with his damp fingers. "It's already a miracle that you can still function."

"I'll get you a new chip next month. I've asked the boss to keep an eye out for any new arrivals."

Swiftly preparing the ingredients, he instructed 015 to watch over the soup before wiping his hands and leaving the kitchen.

As soon as he sat on the sofa, the smart home system emitted a soft beep, projecting a large floating screen onto the wall in front of him.

"Detected viewing intention. Searching for suitable content for you..."

"Huge sale! Massive discount! The Female Slave Exchange will be launching a newcomer discount event on the third of this month!"

For a moment, Yale wore a puzzled expression, but then he realized the situation, finding it somewhat amusing yet frustrating.

The overly sensitive AI must have picked up the sound at the door and assumed that it was his "interest."

The projection continued to play, unlike the static advertisement. It was a 360-degree shot inside the exchange, dynamically showcasing the female insects that were up for auction, allowing potential buyers to inspect for any signs of tampering or illnesses.

With nothing else of interest to occupy him, Yale reluctantly continued reading.

"The camera is now showing us the largest training chamber within the exchange, fully equipped with specialized tools..."

Yale never expected such content and was momentarily stunned.

The camera kept moving, capturing the chaotic scene in its entirety, even zooming in on specific details without any attempt at concealment.

His brows instantly knitted together as he turned his head, unusually cold as he spoke, "Turn it off. I don't want to see this."

The smart home system promptly responded, but just as the projection was about to switch off, a familiar golden hue flashed in a corner of the screen.

The image jolted, as if something had been violently kicked to the ground, causing the camera to tilt askew. Amidst the sound of the body hitting the floor, a hoarse groan could be heard muffled in the noise—

In the next second, the projection went dark.

Wait, was that...?

Recalling that fleeting glimpse, a peculiar sense of familiarity washed over Yale, causing him to frown. He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to continue watching or not.

The smart home indicator blinked, unromantically beeping once more.

"It has detected an increase in your hormones and accelerated heartbeat, indicating continued interest. Reopening the live stream for you."

Yale: "..." So why is it this intelligent?

As the projection activated, a shrill wind sound abruptly pierced his ears, followed by the solid thud of a steel rod being swung down fiercely.

"I told you to hide! I told you... Such a despicable male, always asking for trouble if not disciplined!"

Yale's pupils constricted.

His gaze involuntarily followed the trajectory of the rod, landing directly on a pair of eyes suppressing pain.

Golden, feral eyes, glistening with a hint of tears from physical suffering, yet devoid of any fear or retreat—

They belonged to the male insect he had just seen at the door.

Unlike the candid half-body snapshot, the insect in the video was fully exposed, captured in stunning high definition, leaving nothing to the imagination.

He had a head of soft white hair, though it was slightly disheveled from rolling on the ground.

The contrasting hues of crimson and golden bronze were strikingly beautiful, evenly blended with a pale honey tone, exuding a robust and harmonious vitality like that of a mature and fierce snow leopard in its prime.

Yale's gaze was fixed intently on the scene before him, his fingers unknowingly tightening into a crescent-shaped indentation in his palm.

"Ho! You still dare to resist? You won't be having water or food for the next month!"

His Adam's apple bobbed for a moment, and he finally couldn't resist bending over to retch violently.

"Beep! Detecting obvious discomfort. Applying mosaic filter for your well-being."

In the next instant, Yale's vision blurred as the screen was filled with a mosaic, even silencing the sound, which was drowned out by the howling winter wind battering against the windows.

"Aaaah, what happened? I suddenly heard an alarm!"

Unit 015 hurried out of the kitchen, its small screen flickering with anxious expressions.

After choking from the retching, Yale took a while to calm down, his voice slightly hoarse as he said, "It's nothing."

Having spent three years in this world, he had essentially mastered the Zerg language and social norms.

But until today, all that knowledge had been mere lifeless text, devoid of any tangible reality.

The instinctive resistance to this alien world had erected an emotional barrier, automatically filtering out the absurd and unacceptable aspects.

Yet, the scene just now was like a needle piercing through a vacuum-sealed balloon.

No matter how superficially similar, this was a species and society that defied humanity, filled with inorganic distortions and harshness, where fanaticism and coldness were irreconcilable extremes.

Caught in the middle, he was an undeniable outsider.

Yale couldn't quite articulate his feelings.

Anger was there, as was disgust, but more overwhelming was the helplessness of a mayfly lost in a vast forest.

It was like the first time he opened his eyes, witnessing the terrifying bony wings of a Military Female spanning the sky, blotting out the sun.

In the end, he could grasp nothing and change nothing.

"Rumble, rumble..."

A sudden bubbling noise echoed from the kitchen. 015 gasped and rushed back, frantically attending to the commotion.

Yale, lost in thought for a moment, recomposed himself and joined in to lend a hand.

By the time the chaos in the kitchen was cleaned up, the live-stream projection outside, detecting no audience, had already automatically closed.

The sky had turned completely dark, casting a quiet and gloomy atmosphere in the living room, like a dim and cold snowhouse.

*

A month passed swiftly, nearing the end of the year.

Heavy snow fell all day long.

After dinner, 015, preoccupied with the new chip, subtly prompted Yale. Now he asked him to smooth out his coat on the sofa, then he'd roll up the fluffy white scarf...

Once those tasks were done, 015 began circling around Yale's feet, sweeping the floor with a clattering noise, making sure Yale wouldn't miss his hints.

Yale, who had been reluctant to move, sighed and closed the book in his hand. "Alright, alright, I'm going now."

He picked up the down jacket on the side of the sofa, quickly tidied himself up, and left the house under the earnest gaze of 015.

The sky was pitch black, and although the snowfall had lessened slightly, the temperature was much lower than the previous day. The biting cold wind whistled through his scarf.

The shop was quite a distance away. Yale hesitated for a moment but still decided to take a shortcut.

By cutting straight through the black market, he could halve the journey. It was his first time passing through there at night, but with the city's machines patrolling around the clock and males being closely monitored, he didn't expect any issues.

The black market was already closed, and all the shops along the way were tightly shut. Only the old streetlamps emitted a yellow glow, while his boots squeaked against the snow.

"Bang!"

A backdoor of a building not far ahead suddenly swung open, and a vague dark figure was thrown out, followed by several more silhouettes.

"The order from above is to dispose of it directly and scatter the parts in different garbage dumps. Let's get it done!"

Yale's brow furrowed slightly. Then, he lowered his head, burying his face in his scarf, deciding to pretend he hadn't stumbled upon this scene by accident.

Yet the alley was narrow, and passing by would inevitably bring him closer to the scene of violence. The closer he got, the clearer the figures became, and he could sense several hostile gazes upon him.

Yale quickened his pace, but a glimpse from the corner of his eye suddenly caught a faint, dull golden hue.

Wait... golden?

Realizing a possibility, Yale's eyes widened slightly, and his heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason.

He lifted his gaze and, by the dim streetlight, finally identified familiar traits amidst the mangled mass of flesh and blood—

It was indeed that male insectoid.

A month wasn't too long or too short, yet the insectoid had undergone a complete transformation.

He no longer even resembled an insect; his entire body was covered in dried blood and filth, with layers of cuts, lash marks, and burn scars. There wasn't an unscathed patch of skin left on him.

"....Why aren't you dodging anymore? Weren't you quite capable?"

The hard outer shell of the male insectoid had been utterly shattered, leaving him powerless to resist this one-sided assault.

Beneath the disheveled hair, a numb and dazed expression could be seen on his face, his golden eyes dull and turbid, resembling the lifeless, putrid eyes of a dead fish.

Never had Yale been more acutely aware of the fact – he was dying.

In just a few minutes, no, perhaps only seconds, with the next punch landing, this male would cease to breathe, becoming nothing but rotting flesh beside a garbage bin.

Yale slowed his pace, his gaze unwavering, fixated on the figure curled up on the ground.

"What are you doing? Why are you staring! Mind your own business!"

A sudden bellow erupted, causing the bloodshot-eyed male to straighten up, his expression fierce as he glared at Yale.

Forget it.

Leave it alone.

There were so many males in distress; saving one wouldn't make a difference.

Why bother getting himself into trouble.

Rational thoughts swirled overwhelmingly in his mind, yet Yale's breathing unintentionally became labored.

He stepped forward, treading on the ground just inches away from the female insectoid—

Feeling a gentle tug at the hem of his down jacket.

He paused in his steps.

Author's Note:

Yeye is actually a bit emo, because being alone on an alien planet can be very lonely, and he's incredibly softhearted, which somehow reminds the author of a meme: Poor Yeye scavenging to support his family.jpg. (Ironically fitting QAQ)