Chapter 38

Chapter 38

The Mechanical Race's seawater diversion project was carried out without any concealment, causing the Star Network to buzz once more.

What was the Mechanical Race doing with so much seawater?

Opening an aquarium?

Nearly every planet was watching closely, as the Mechanical Race's recent actions had been too numerous and perplexing—first, No.02 led steel warships to Casslo Star, Mechanical Soldiers interfered with Bubble Shows, No.03 lost contact with Menglota, causing a major shift in the interstellar landscape, and now the Mechanical Race was diverting seawater into a desert...

An insider revealed that this was a directive issued by the Mechanical Race's leader.

The Mechanical Race's leader had awakened...

Many couldn't help but recall that baseless rumor—that humans could awaken the leader of the Mechanical Race.

Had a human been born?

But few took it seriously, as the informant couldn't provide concrete evidence.

Currently, Yixu Star's security had tightened considerably. The elite reconnaissance team that had previously collaborated on intelligence gathering had gone and never returned, so no one knew exactly what was happening within the Mechanical Race.

Fortunately, no one had any information about the Mechanical Race. If they had known that the Mechanical Race convened an unprecedented council that night, other planets would likely have been on edge, fearing some major move from the Mechanical Race. In reality, however, the Mechanical Race simply wanted to hold a grand birthday party for their little master.

After the meeting, No.02 informed Tristan that No.03's checkup was done and that he was waiting outside the conference room.

No.03 hadn't undergone a full inspection in many years, but all his systems checked out fine. Aside from secretly installing a signal jammer, Menglota lacked the tech to tamper with anything else.

The signal jammer was extremely sophisticated, attached externally to No.03. Menglota could selectively block or interfere with signals transmitted to No.03, and its installation and operation were completely undetectable. No.03 himself was not the sharpest tool and preferred to remain in low-power mode most of the time, completely unaware of the jammer's existence.

Tristan had already received the inspection results. As he descended the steps, the hulking war machine stood silently in the night like a gloomy black sentinel.

"Leader, I have a question..." No.03 followed closely behind Tristan, his movements producing rumbling sounds. Just as Tristan was about to enter the sky castle, No.03 hesitantly spoke up: "The little master has returned. Why didn't you notify me sooner?"

Even the usually slow-witted No.03 had a rare moment of insight.

If the leader had wanted to contact him, there were countless ways to do so. But No.03 hadn't received a single message, which meant the leader hadn't even considered reaching out.

Mechanical Species weren't supposed to experience emotions, yet No.03 felt his systems ran sluggish. Even ordinary Mechanical Soldiers had seen the little master before him.

It seemed the leader hadn't remembered him either... Mechanical Species instinctively obeyed and avoided the leader, who controlled their core data. No.03 couldn't even look up, like a child who had done something wrong, but he couldn't help asking for a reason.

Had he been away for so long that the leader had forgotten about him?

No.03's systems dimmed further.

"Too many people would make the castle crowded," Tristan replied before stepping into the sky castle.

No.02 understood the meaning behind those words. He, too, wished for fewer people around the little master—fewer individuals to share the little master's attention. Truthfully, it was already extraordinary for a Mechanical Species to form personal wishes.

Previously, his goal had been the continuous evolution of the Mechanical Species, to possess the most advanced military technology. Now, his wish was to protect the little master as he grew.

No.02 had once pondered why such a desire had emerged. The pursuit of technological advancement was an instinct of the Mechanical Race, rooted in their core programming. But the little master occupied the first position in their priority hierarchy, making such wishes unsurprising.

They longed to protect the little master's growth. They longed to earn more of the little master's attention.

No.02 got it immediately. But for No.03, this one line might take him months to process.

No.02 glanced at No.03, who was now examining his own armor in confusion—was the leader thought he was too big? Did he take up too much space?

...

Tristan entered the sky castle, met with the familiar sounds of a Bubble Show.

The living room was carpeted with thick, patterned rugs, and the sofa was as soft and square as a block of butter. The child hugged a small pillow, his belly full, leaving the snacks on the table mostly untouched. He lay curled up, his head tilted to one side.

Hearing movement, the little head immediately turned.

Luo Ci rubbed his eyes, his small face drowsy. He had nearly fallen asleep but had stubbornly stayed on the sofa to wait for Tristan. At the familiar sound, he wobbled as he tried to stand, his short legs slipping while still clutching the pillow, sending him tumbling forward.

"Ah—" He let out a tiny yelp.

He squeezed his eyes shut in fear, but a steadying force caught him from behind. Cautiously, he peeked out to find Tristan—who'd just been at the door moments ago—now behind him, holding him securely. Instantly, his fear melted away.

Still half-asleep, Luo Ci reacted slowly. His chubby little hands clung to Tristan's arm as he mumbled a complaint, "You're so slow..."

"The meeting ran long," Tristan replied, lifting the child into his arms. The light little bundle weighed almost nothing, snuggling effortlessly against his chest. Tiny hands gripped his shoulders for balance, while chubby legs flailed, searching for footing.

Tristan encircled his arms, and the child's feet found support against his forearm, socks pressing into his sleeve before finally settling down.

Softly, he asked, "Why didn't you go to bed earlier?"

"No sleep..." Luo Ci pouted with big round eyes, gazing up at him as he hugged Tristan's arm and whined, "Want bedtime story."

A couple of nights ago, Tristan had told him a rather long bedtime story, ending on a cliffhanger where the protagonist was captured by the villain. Luo Ci had fallen asleep before hearing the rest, so now he badgered Tristan for the rest.

Tristan carried the child to the bedroom. "Did you do your nighttime wash-up?"

Luo Ci didn't want to clean up—he just wanted the story. Pursing his lips, he gave Tristan an innocent look, legs swinging impatiently.

Despite his reluctance, he was carried to the washroom.

Luo Ci could barely keep his eyes open. His head kept nodding, and his small hands initially pushed at Tristan's face, trying to escape. But when that failed, he gave in and relaxed, enjoying the attention. Tristan carefully combed his hair, treating him like a delicate, fragile doll.

Luo Ci reluctantly swished a sip of mouthwash, tilting his head back to blow a string of berry-flavored bubbles: "Blub blub..."

Tristan watched as the child, now nestled happily in his arms, covered his mouth with a giggle, eyes sparkling with mischief.

But the child's energy soon faded.

By the time they left the washroom, Tristan had changed him into pajamas, and Luo Ci was already drowsy in his arms.

Gently, Tristan laid the child in the center of the bed, sliding his favorite pillow beneath his head and covering him with his beloved blanket.

Luo Ci stirred slightly as he snuggled into the blanket, but Tristan's soothing strokes along his back—gentle and rhythmic—soon lulled him back into a curled-up slumber.

Tristan didn't particularly like the pattern on the blanket, but since the child adored it, he found it endearing as well.

...

The next morning, Luo Ci woke bleary-eyed. In the dining room, his usual seat stood empty as Tristan settled him on his lap, feeding him rice porridge with a small spoon.

Though it was just porridge, it had been prepared exquisitely—fragrant with rice and rich fruit flavors, the sweetness and tartness perfectly balanced. Luo Ci's pink tongue darted out to lick his lips, and he hummed contentedly, clinging to Tristan's wrist, asking for another bowl.

As he grew more alert, his little ears twitched at a distant rumbling sound.

Puzzled, he tilted his head. "What's that noise?"

The rumbling was faintly familiar. If the sky castle hadn't been hovering above the ground, the vibrations might have shaken the earth.

"No.03 is training," Tristan said.

Luo Ci rested her chin on her hand and asked curiously, "What training...?"

"Overcoming mechanical inertia."

Mechanical inertia works like muscle memory in humans. Just as someone used to hard labor might struggle with delicate tasks like carving or painting due to built-up muscle memory, the Mechanical Species, after years of working at set power levels, develops mechanical inertia.

Cutting their power suddenly and attempting gentler movements requires overcoming this inertia.

No.03 especially—his minimum force output threshold is 500 times higher than that of an ordinary Robot Soldier, compounded by years of mechanical inertia. It takes constant training and calibration to adjust this.

Luo Ci kinda understood. Though Tristan didn’t explicitly say it, it hit her: perhaps No.03 was doing this for her. She grabbed his sleeve and asked in her sweetest voice, "Can I go watch? From far away?"

Tristan agreed.

...

No.03’s training didn't happen in the armory. He was too destructive for confined spaces, so the sessions took place in an outdoor testing area.

Luo Ci remembered seeing other Robot Soldiers training with plush dolls in the armory, but Tristan expected more from No.03—replacing the plush dolls with glass ones.

No.03 had the worst control among No.02 to No.05. Tristan ordered him to start by learning to say hello gently.

Sitting in Tristan’s arms, Luo Ci wiggled her little bottom to balance herself, her round eyes locked on the testing area.

No.03 slowly raised a mechanical arm, holding the glass doll like it weighed nothing. His other arm reached out horizontally to the doll’s chest, gently grasping its hand.

This was like a tank trying to frost a cupcake with precision. No.03 had to repeatedly train to turn down his strength to the minimum. The unfamiliar sensation caused his balance systems to glitch, his heavy tail thumping the ground, the sheer weight of his body sending tremors through the desert with a loud rumbling.

The noise Luo Ci had heard earlier came from this.

Just as No.03 lifted the glass doll, his gaze met the bright eyes of the little one outside the testing ground.

The child held onto Tristan’s arm, her soft face tilted, her pale skin turning pink, her bright, beautiful pupils staring right at him.

No.03 forgot to control his strength.

His restless tail froze mid-thump, and the glass doll shattered instantly.

"Failure—"

A Robot Soldier monitoring called out.

Luo Ci froze, realizing No.03 had failed. Her ears perked up as she turned to Tristan and whispered, "Was it because of me...?"

"It has nothing to do with you," Tristan replied.

He wasn't just saying that—Tristan genuinely believed it was due to No.03 needing more practice. Training was all about minimizing failure rates in unexpected situations.

Just as Tristan practiced storytelling and lullabies in his free time to make bedtime tales more engaging for the child, reducing errors required ample practice. This was his experience speaking.

The testing ground was managed by an intelligent Mechanical Species. Since Mechanical Species didn’t experience fatigue, neither the armory nor the testing grounds had chairs. The intelligent Mechanical Species gave quick orders to a subordinate Robot Soldier, who dug up two chairs from storage, cleaned them, and brought them to Luo Ci.

"Please rest, little master."

Luo Ci looked at the Robot Soldiers. Perhaps because they worked in the testing grounds—often used for weapon development experiments and filled with radioactive rays—they looked heavier and tougher than usual, encased in rounded black shells.

"Thank you," the little one said politely.

What should a worker bot say in response to gratitude from the little master? They didn't have much programming, and this was uncharted territory.

Luo Ci watched curiously as the silent Robot Soldiers lowered their heads, seemingly at a loss. After a few seconds, identical pink heart symbols appeared on their chests.

Her face lit up. Pointing at the hearts, she kicked her feet. "Hearts! Cute!"

When she got excited or intrigued, her cotton-soft body squirmed, her round, snow-white ears turning pink as she hugged Tristan’s arm, her voice full of excitement.

Who was the cute one here, really?

No.03 crouched in the testing ground, staring longingly in their direction. While the working Robot Soldiers had gotten close to the little master, he remained stuck at a distance.

Noticing No.03’s gaze, Luo Ci figured it’d be fine if he came a little closer—Tristan was right there. She waved her tiny hand at him.

As if receiving a command, No.03 immediately straightened his massive frame and stomped over with thunderous steps.

"Boom, boom..."

Moving too quickly in his cumbersome body, his thick tail knocked over several testing instruments along the way.

The open-air testing ground had small, palm-sized burrows—homes of fennec foxes or other tiny creatures. Startled by the commotion, they scurried into their holes.

"Wait—" Luo Ci frowned worriedly, gesturing frantically with her little hands. No.03 paused, initially thinking she didn’t want him to approach, before belatedly realizing she was upset about his tail scaring the small animals. After a moment of slow deliberation, he hugged his tail with his mechanical arms and inched toward her carefully.

The same heavy war machine that struck fear into enemies across the galaxy now clutched his tail, taking clumsy, deliberate steps—adorably awkward.

Luo Ci looked up at him. The fear she’d once felt was gone. Beaming, she praised, "You’re cute too!"

No.03 listened quietly.

After this, Luo Ci wasn’t as afraid of him anymore. She realized No.03 might look intimidating, but he was actually slow and dull-witted, like a little lamb once you got used to him.

Yet she couldn’t understand: if No.03 was so docile and quiet, why had he joined Menglota and stirred so much conflict across the stars?

How strange.

Was there a secret?

Lost in thought, she tiptoed and whispered into Tristan’s ear.

Tristan gently held her back and said, "You can ask him directly. He’ll tell you."

"Really...?" Luo Ci plopped onto the chair, tilting her head.

"Of course."

After a brief, hesitant struggle, her curiosity won out, and she posed the question to No.03.

No.03 processed her words slowly before lowering his head, looking somewhat dejected.

Instead of answering, he played a past recording.

His voice, deep and monotone, was unmistakable.

—"You can't."

—I don't know when the master will appear, so I need to find something to do.

—No, the galaxy would become unsafe.

—The Mechanical Species' code doesn’t prohibit starting wars.

No.04's voice faded, leaving only No.03's gloomy muttering.

—No, must stop…

No.04 was clearly more energetic and combative, being the first to want to spark war across the galaxy. But No.03 believed this would make the environment unsafe. He didn’t want the master to arrive in an unstable environment and tried to stop No.04, but obviously, he failed.

No.04 joined Sanole.

So, to maintain stability, No.03 chose to assist Menglota.

An armored mech who appeared capable of ruthlessly crushing enemy firepower was, in reality, just a peacekeeper determined to uphold interstellar stability… No.03 was equipped with the most powerful firepower, yet his only thought was maintaining safety. Though it’s hard to say whether his decision to join Menglota was right or wrong, No.03 had always been slow and socially awkward in making decisions… Luo Ci suddenly felt the urge to hug this massive mechanical being. He raised his little hands, signaling for a hug.

No.03 took a long while to react.

He looked down at his own body, then at his arms, before finally lowering his head.

Luo Ci’s lotus-root-like arms could only wrap around a small corner of No.03’s head. Pressing his squishy cheek flesh against the massive head, his squished face made his words muffled: "After the debugging's done, can we enter the floating castle?"

"There’s still a theory exam," Tristan plucked the little one off the big head. "No.03 has a long way to go."

"...A theory exam?" Luo Ci froze, his eyes widening. After a pause, he held back but couldn't help asking, "Who wrote the test?"

Tristan: "Me."

"Ah…" Luo Ci glanced at the pathetic-looking No.03, feeling he couldn't do anything to help.

If the test questions were copied from the star network, he could argue that the exam wasn’t accurate. But since Tristan wrote it, there was nothing he could say.

No.03 silently sagged his head.

The theory test consisted of 20 multiple-choice questions and 10 short-answer questions. To pass, one needed to answer at least 25 correctly. But the multiple-choice section was full of traps—any slight wrong move would lead to deductions, covering topics like options about the little master's daily life, companionship protocols, and how to handle unreasonable requests from the little master…

No.03 usually scored only 5 points in the multiple-choice section because he couldn’t flexibly respond to the little master’s various demands.

For example, how to categorize unreasonable requests into "generally unreasonable" and "especially unreasonable." Generally unreasonable requests could be indulged, but especially unreasonable ones required special handling—like reasoning with the little master, diverting his attention, or calling for higher authority… This was too difficult for No.03, and his scores kept landing in the poor range.

Poor No.03. Only by passing the test could he leave the testing facility…

…

2:30 PM.

Afternoon tea time.

A gentle breeze drifted through the carved window frames, filling the hall with the sweet aroma of fruit tea and fresh cream.

Tristan sat on the sofa, cradling what looked like a cotton puff. Upon closer inspection, it was the little one burrowed in his little blanket, tiny hands and feet curled up as he clutched the Bunny Rabbit, eyelids drooping shut, only his pink lips slightly parted.

Tristan’s hand gently soothed the child's back with gentle pats, his expression blissed out.

The person on the other end of the communication, however, was far from relaxed.

Menglota’s leader was making desperate pleas.

Whether it was pressure from the allied nations or Sanole, Menglota couldn’t afford to lose No.03 at this moment. So, the leader had gone to great lengths to obtain Yixu Star’s contact information.

After all, the Mechanical Race had operations on many planets—as long as Menglota’s leader was determined, he could get in touch.

He tried to reconnect with No.03. Knowing the Mechanical Race didn’t understand emotions, the leader attempted to persuade him with benefits, offering countless resources and planets.

Politely waiting for him to finish, Tristan finally spoke: "You do know why No.03 joined Menglota, don’t you?"

"But now, he no longer has that reason."

Menglota’s leader gritted his teeth: "If you just let me speak with General No.03, I can convince him!" This time, Menglota was staking everything.

"Pointless. Whether he’d rather be the revered General No.03 or the little master’s companion—he’ll know how to choose."

Menglota’s leader: "??"

He understood the first half, but the second half suddenly made no sense.

As the leader went on and on about Menglota’s current crisis, Tristan half-listened, his gaze fixed on the little one in his arms. The well-fed and sleepy child, lost in some dream, let out a soft, sleepy coo under his gentle patting.

"I have important matters to attend to. No time for your nonsense. Goodbye."

The communication was unilaterally cut off.

Menglota’s leader shot to his feet.

Nonsense?!

Menglota collapsing is considered nonsense?!

Is there anything more important than Menglota’s current predicament?!