Chapter 40

Chapter 40

A subsidiary planet of Sanole.

Hot winds swept across the barren land, where broken walls and ruins lay scattered, along with mountains of piled-up garbage.

Luo Ci crouched in the shade of a rock, hugging his knees, his small hands covering his nose to block out the foul stench in the air.

He only remembered being caught in a vortex, his head spinning, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself here.

The surroundings were eerily desolate—barren land devoid of vegetation or small creatures, only towering heaps of trash. He had witnessed spaceship after spaceship dumping tons of waste here, followed by scavengers swarming over the garbage to pick through it.

Was this a trash planet?

How could he get back?

Tristan would be so worried if he knew he was missing… Though his reaction was a bit slow, the little one clearly realized he was no longer on Yixu Star. His small head drooped, lips pressed together, eyes reddening.

A pampered young boy suddenly thrust into an unfamiliar, desolate environment couldn’t help but feel lost and frightened. Luo Ci hugged his knees, squatting behind the rock, listening to the scavengers talking nearby.

Their speech was a mix of Interstellar Language and local dialect, making it hard to understand clearly. He only caught fragments like "tonight" and "acid rain."

Was acid rain coming tonight?

Luo Ci gazed up blankly at the sky. The light on this planet didn’t seem to distinguish between day and night. Toxic fumes from the massive piles of garbage shrouded the sky tightly, allowing only a faint glimmer of light to seep through. Even during the day, it felt almost like night.

Wiping his eyelids with a chubby little hand, he wobbled to his feet on unsteady short legs and continued wandering through the garbage piles.

He needed to find a temporary place to hide.

After walking for what felt like ages—his legs sore from the unfamiliar exertion—he finally spotted a small shack wedged between rocks.

A thick layer of dust coated the table inside, as if no one had lived there for a long time.

The wooden door was heavy.

With great effort, Luo Ci pushed it open and glanced around.

The shack contained only simple furniture—a table, chairs, and a bench. In one corner was a large bag of garbage the previous occupant had collected but hadn’t yet sold.

Huffing and puffing, he dragged the smelly bag outside, then clambered onto a chair and picked up a small notebook on the table. It was a log left by the former resident.

Now he regretted not studying Interstellar Language harder in kindergarten. Though he could understand spoken words, his written vocabulary was lacking. He could barely make out that the previous occupant had been a disabled soldier, abandoned and exiled here, who eventually saved enough money from scavenging to leave.

Well… at least he confirmed the previous owner was truly gone. Luo Ci puffed his cheeks and set the log aside.

Exhausted from the fright and the long walk, he felt both tired and sleepy. Hugging his knees, he curled up beside the chair and dozed off without realizing it.

He didn’t know how long he slept before hunger woke him. It had been too long since he last ate, and his little belly was flat with emptiness.

Slowly, he got up from the floor and searched for something to fill his stomach.

Being small, he spotted a mini fridge under the bed—the only electrical appliance in the shack.

Sticking out his little bottom, he crawled in with great effort, hugging the fridge as he dragged it out. By the time he emerged, he was covered in dust, but he had no time to care. Opening the fridge, he found a few remaining cans of compressed rations.

"Cans…" Luo Ci grabbed one. It felt heavy, but he wasn’t sure if the contents were still edible.

After hesitating for a while, he decided to open it and check.

Fortunately, the pull tab was light enough for even a little one to open easily. Inside were neatly arranged small biscuits.

Confirming there was no spoiled smell, he took a tentative bite. The biscuit was dry as sand, almost indistinguishable from eating dirt, with barely any flavor left.

"Mmm…" Luo Ci slowly ate one. Though the biscuits tasted awful, at least they were filling.

Once half-full, he stored the remaining cans back in the fridge and plopped down on the floor, counting on his fingers. One can would last him three days. With five cans, he could survive for half a month at most.

He decided to sleep again and search for water after waking up. According to the log, there should be merchants somewhere on this planet.

But he didn’t know what they traded for…

When he woke again, he heard knocking. Startled, Luo Ci scrambled up and instinctively pulled the door open, his eyes still bleary with sleep. Luckily, the person outside was just a slightly older boy.

Rubbing his eyes, he asked, "Who are you?"

"I should be asking you that. This is Uncle John’s place. Why are you staying here?"

Luo Ci lowered his head. "I got separated from my guardian…"

Before he could finish, the boy muttered to himself, "Oh, oh, I see. You must be the kid Uncle John mentioned before?"

"Uncle John said he knew a beastmaster trainer who had a child. Sadly, the trainer died not long after, so he temporarily became the child’s guardian. But Uncle John already left this place. Didn’t he take you with him?"

Luo Ci was still bewildered, but before he could respond, the boy cheerfully introduced himself. He said his name was Donald and rambled on about himself.

Donald seemed convinced he was the orphan Uncle John had once taken care of.

Luo Ci tilted his head but didn’t correct him—he couldn’t explain how he’d ended up here anyway.

"Uncle John was remarkable, you know. They say he used to be a special forces soldier. He was good with electronics and fixing things, so he saved up money fast and left this place." Donald’s gaze lingered on the child’s face.

Even with dust smudged on his cheeks and his pajamas dirty, the little one was still strikingly adorable—big blue eyes, long lashes, looking like a rare doll, with soft baby fat on his arms… But then again, Uncle John had been famous in the area, earning in just a few years what others couldn’t in a lifetime. It made sense he’d raise a child well.

Donald grinned warmly. "Are you staying here alone? Want to come to the Distribution Hub? It’s more crowded, but the environment’s better than here. Plus, it’s closer to merchants, so buying food and water is easier."

Luo Ci pursed his lips, frowning in thought. Tristan and the others must be searching for him. Until they found him, he had to survive on his own.

Living in a garbage dump wasn’t sustainable. Unlike Uncle John, he didn’t know how to do everything, and there was no water here. The Distribution Hub sounded like a good option—maybe he should go with Donald.

He nodded obediently.

Seeing his agreement, Donald smiled and took his hand, leading him outside. Covering his nose and mouth, Luo Ci asked in a muffled voice, "Is there… a place to communicate at the hub?"

Assuming he meant contacting Uncle John, Donald grinned. "Nah, we don’t have stuff like that in the Lower District. Not even a single robot. The Lower District’s just filth, garbage, and… the beast pits."

"Ah…" Luo Ci looked up blankly.

Seeing his confusion, Donald added, "But it’s not impossible. The Upper District’s way better than here—they’ve got robots, shopping centers, and definitely places to communicate. Problem is, getting into the Upper District costs a lot. I’ll talk to my dad—maybe he’ll agree."

Just from their brief chat, Donald realized the little one knew nothing about the planet.

From Donald, Luo Ci learned that the planet he was on was a subsidiary of Sanole.

The planet was divided into the Upper District and the Lower District. The Upper District had a beautiful environment, home to Sanole’s officers and merchants. Their waste was dumped into the Lower District, along with waste from nearby planets. Most Lower District residents were scavengers—the barren land couldn’t sustain crops, so they survived by picking through garbage.

Though Lower District residents couldn’t live in the Upper District, they could occasionally bribe guards to visit.

Distribution Hub.

The environment here was indeed better than the garbage dump, with tents pitched everywhere—these were the homes of the residents in the lower district. Scavengers lugging huge sacks could be seen all around, while sharp-dressed vendors stood at their stalls, bargaining with them.

There weren’t many merchants, and each one had a crowd of scavengers lined up in front of them, waiting for their day's worth of scavenged goods to be appraised.

Luo Ci craned her neck curiously, watching the transactions. Scrap metal from the garbage was among the more valuable items, but separating and dismantling it required skill. Donald also sold the things he had randomly gathered today, getting a fair price. He grinned and said, “Actually, there are usually more merchants around, but these aren't normal times, so not many are willing to come.”

Unusual?

“What’s unusual?” Luo Ci blinked in confusion.

Surprised that someone didn’t even know such common knowledge, the people nearby all turned to look. Seeing it was a little one with a new face around here—and perhaps charmed by how adorable the child was—a scavenger in line casually explained, “These days are when the arena opens. Sometimes the violence spreads here, so merchants avoid coming during arena events. They're too scared for their own skins.”

Another person snorted and sneered, “Hah, only a garbage planet like ours would be turned into an arena. Nobody gives a damn if folks die here—chaos and violence are exactly what they want… Wait! What? This whole bag, and you’re only giving me ten star coins?!” Pissed about the lowball offer, the man immediately started cursing and arguing.

The lower district was filled with garbage, devoid of any cops or security to speak of or hint of law and order. Arguments and even fights over the slightest disagreement were commonplace.

Luo Ci was still puzzled, but Donald had heard enough and pulled the little one away from the crowd.

She watched as he used the star coins he had just earned to buy several bundles of dried rations from another merchant.

Most of the residents in the settlement were lifers who knew each other. Passersby frequently greeted Donald, their eyes giving Luo Ci the once-over. “Donald, where’d you pick up this little one? How many is that this year?”

Most conversations were in the local dialect, which Luo Ci couldn’t understand.

Fortunately, Donald didn’t linger in small talk for long. He led the little one to a tent that was noticeably better than the others—layered with multiple layers of waterproofing and adorned with animal skulls hanging at the entrance. A hunting rifle hung on the wall, old but still looked deadly.

Luo Ci hid behind Donald as he spoke to a man sitting on a rug inside.

The man had a thick beard and was cleaning the barrel of his gun. His every movement carried an air of bloodshed and menace, his fierce eyes—ones that had snuffed out lives—sizing up the kid.

Though Luo Ci knew not to judge someone by their appearance, she couldn’t help edging backward.

Donald and the man spoke in the local dialect, leaving Luo Ci completely in the dark.

After finishing the conversation with his father, Donald turned to Luo Ci and said, “That’s my father. He used to be part of a bounty hunter crew, so he looks a bit intimidating.”

“A… hunting crew?” Luo Ci had never heard the term before.

“They operate on fringe planets, dealing in… shady business,” Donald said vaguely. “But I talked to him, and he agreed to let me take you to the upper district. We’ll leave tomorrow morning. You can crash here tonight.”

Worn out from the trek, Luo Ci had no energy to go back and agreed to Donald’s suggestion.

That night, listening to Old Donald’s window-rattling snores, Luo Ci’s round little face scrunched up. She covered her ears with her tiny hands but still lay wide awake. She missed Tristan so much—she even missed bedtime stories… Before she knew it, her eyes welled up with tears, which she quickly wiped away.

The next morning, Luo Ci sat listlessly at the breakfast table, pushing food around her plate. Donald’s tent had the only television in the settlement—though dusty and beat-up, it still worked. The screen played a show Luo Ci had already seen last week—a Bubble Show. Still half-asleep, she tilted her head and mumbled, “This was on last week.”

“Yeah, the planet’s signal reception is delayed. The TV here only gets last week’s broadcasts,” Donald said, slightly surprised that the little one recognized it but not dwelling on it. He mixed meal packs into water and chuckled, “Even the weather reports are from last week.”

Luo Ci’s face scrunched in confusion.

Then what was the point of watching TV?

Sensing her bewilderment, Donald explained between bites, “The TV sometimes broadcasts news about military academy recruitments. I need to keep an eye on that. Even though no academy would recruit from a planet like ours, with enough money, there’s still a chance.”

After breakfast, Donald took the money Old Donald had given him and led Luo Ci by the hand toward the upper district.

“Wait,” Old Donald called out, waving Donald over. The two disappeared into the tent for another hushed conversation before Donald reemerged.

……

Upper District, Rose Square.

Compared to the chaotic, filthy lower district, the streets here were immaculate. Quaint cottages lined up neatly, as if from another world.

White pigeons perched lightly on lampposts, and the square was filled with roses, their fragrance lingering in the air, drawing in visitors to stop and take photos.

Having finally made it to the upper district, Donald bought an armload of supplies, his arms laden with bags.

Luo Ci helped carry two bags as well, staggering under the load. Her fair little face flushed pink, her legs trembling until she stumbled and took a tumble on the steps.

Donald quickly gathered the fallen items before turning to help the little one up.

“You scraped your knee,” he noted, seeing a small patch of broken skin the size of a fingernail.

Luo Ci hadn’t been hurt in a long time, but since Donald had taken her to the settlement and even helped her get to the upper district, she didn’t want to trouble him further. She lowered her head, forcing back the tears welling in her eyes, and bit her lip. “D-doesn't hurt.”

Donald, unfamiliar with children, took her at her word and didn’t press further.

Arriving at a high-tech hall, he pointed and said, “This is the comms center. I’ve seen people send messages to faraway places here. John should be able to receive yours too.”

Luo Ci gripped the coins tight in her tiny hand, clumsily hugging Donald’s arm in gratitude. “I’ll pay Donald back.”

She darted into the building, her heart pounding as she spotted banks of comm stations. Excited, she hurried over—only for her little face to fall when she encountered her first problem: the terminals were too high. Even on tiptoe, she couldn’t reach.

Her struggle quickly caught the attention of a staff member, who guided her to the front desk for assisted service.

The clerk asked, “Which star system and planet would you like to send a message to?”

Luo Ci leaned on the counter, furrowing her little brow. She didn’t know about star systems… but she knew the planet. “Yixu.”

“…?!” The clerk froze, wondering if they had misheard.

If not, that was the Mechanical Race’s homeworld. Was this little one trying to contact… Yixu? No planet would dare share its name with the Mechanical Race’s core world. The clerk’s face was pure disbelief.

“Mhm,” Luo Ci nodded obediently, thinking they needed confirmation.

The staff exchanged uneasy glances, as if something had lodged in their throats. Though unprecedented, protocol demanded they comply with the client’s request. Biting back their questions, they proceeded.

Had this podunk planet’s news not been so delayed, they would’ve known the galactic networks were buzzing with talk of the Mechanical Race’s search for a lost child. But the message hadn’t yet reached this tech-deprived world.

Donald waited on a sofa in the hall. Soon enough, the little one came running back, her excited expression making it clear—success.

……

Nearly three days had passed since the little one’s disappearance.

Mechanical Race warships had scoured half the star sector.

Countless vessels patrolled the dark interstellar lanes.

In the main cabin, Tristan sat on the command seat, his metal fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest. Before him, a massive star chart hologram displayed the sector—most sectors already scanned.

Incalculable planetary data streams were being sifted and filtered by Tristan. The cub had passed through dimensional fissures to another planet—any mechanically monitored zone would have detected him. Even the entire StarNet was now under his control.

Over three days, Tristan processed billions of data points, preserving only viable leads. Yet, none had led to the cub. The sheer volume of analysis was staggering, defying even cutting-edge quantum processors.

Tristan calculated the margin of error to be approaching absolute zero. Every mechanical presence had been accounted for, with no sightings of the cub. The only remaining possibility was that the cub was on a planet so technologically void that no mechanical entities existed there at all.

Calmly, Tristan issued orders, directing the entire fleet to focus on planets with relatively primitive technological development.

The Mechanical Race was hyper-rational. He even rationally considered the possibility that the cub might no longer have bio-signatures… Such a possibility exceeded Tristan's operational parameters. In other words, he contemplated whether to blacklist the entire star sector.

He even calculated the feasibility of reigniting the Great Annihilation, analyzing the required number of Star Pursuit Cannons and the most efficient ballistic trajectories to sterilize the sector.

Just then, a message arrived at Yixu Star—originating from one of Sanole’s subsidiary planets.

Under normal circumstances, such a message would have been filtered as spam.

But this time, Tristan opened it.

The metal armrest deformed under servo-pressure.

The cub’s adorable face appeared on the screen, his round, watery eyes occupying 83% of viewframe as he fumbled with the lens.

In less than two days, his usually well-groomed hair had turned into a messy fluff. His soft, snow-white cheeks were smudged with dust here and there, resembling a dust-streaked maintenance droid.

This outdated communicator had long been obsolete—something the cub had never seen before. He curiously initiated tactile interface protocol.

"Query?"

The lens zoomed in and out erratically as the cub’s chubby face pressed close, his facial padding experiencing 12% compression against the screen. His long, curled lashes were dotted with tiny lubrication secretions, and his nose was a little red.

The cub was upset.

Of course he was. Isolated in a technology-deficient zone, facing such harsh conditions, it was only natural for him to feel frightened and distressed.

Luo Ci hadn’t meant to make the footage so shaky. He was just trying to stabilize emotional subroutines. Knowing that Tristan would see this video, the fear and panic he’d suppressed for two days reached critical pressure in core housing, suddenly finding an outlet—threatening to spill out as tears.

He had wanted to burst into sobs, but he didn’t want to worry the Mechanical Race. Holding back the flood of tears was no easy feat.

Engaging facial restraint protocols, his face scrunched up with effort, he swallowed his tears before finally speaking in a tiny, wobbly voice: "Negative concern required… Self-maintenance protocols active…"

The delay had eaten up most of the time. A staff member reminded him he only had 20 seconds left. The cub’s Little Ears drooped in disappointment as he pressed a small hand against the lens in an adhesion-simulating interface. His watery eyes stared into the screen, his vocal frequency exceeding standard parameters, mumbling, "I miss you all so much…"

Tristan raised his hand, pressing his palm against the screen, covering that tiny hand.

Across thousands of galaxies, biometric synchronization achieved across 4.7 kiloparsecs.

The video ended.

Tristan slowly clenched his armrest.

He knew perfectly well that what he had just seen was only a 2.4 petabyte data packet—a video stored as data. Given the time zone difference, the cub had sent this message a full day ago. Yet, he couldn’t help but execute proximity simulation protocol for that small hand.

It was an utterly non-algorithmic response. But when it came to the cub, perhaps no rationale was needed.

"Replay."

The main cabin’s AI responded: "Initiating video replay."

…

In the dimly lit command center, Tristan leaned back in his chair, elbow resting on the armrest, watching the footage.

The moment the message arrived, he had already pinpointed its origin. The fleet adjusted course, racing at full speed toward the pulsing coordinate marker on nav-grid.

"Play it again."

"Cycle 1,112 initialized."