Chapter 42

Chapter 42

The Scrap Planet.

Defense Station.

"Where did these battleships come from? Quick, activate the shield—"

"Negative! The shield won’t activate—we’ve lost access!"

In truth, most junk planets lacked proper defense systems. However, this particular junk planet had been carefully constructed by Sanole to conceal the gladiatorial arena, so a basic defense framework had been installed.

Yet, the shield’s indicator lights flickered out before they could fully activate, like dumping cold water on their panic.

It wasn’t just the planetary defenses—the entire operational infrastructure of the junk planet was now under Tristan’s control.

The soldiers in the defense outpost were in disarray, but no matter how desperate they were, there was nothing they could do. They could only watch helplessly as the lights in the outpost dimmed, followed by the patrol ships, the self-defense forces, and the signal towers—each going dark in succession.

This meant the defense system had been paralyzed before it could even activate.

The junk planet plunged into darkness, the only remaining light source being the titanic mechanical whale hovering above them. Its articulated tail swayed as it slowly descended, extending a Light Elevator toward the center of the gladiatorial arena.

Tristan stepped down from the Light Elevator, followed by No.02 and No.03. His synthetic pupils coldly reflected the scene in the arena—this was his usual expression. The shifts in his gaze were merely mimicry to appear more human in front of the little one.

But when he saw the child running toward him, his optical sensors flickered.

Luo Ci had missed Tristan so much. His tiny legs padded hurriedly across the ground as he rushed forward, throwing his arms around Tristan’s leg. His round eyes gazed up, and just as he opened his mouth to say, "I missed you," a hiccup escaped instead. "*Hic!*"

Oops. Ate too many snacks.

His small hands quickly covered his mouth.

Tristan bent down and lifted the child into his arms, cradling him gently and smoothing his hair.

No.04, unwilling to let the little master’s attention be monopolized by the leader, edging closer. He still wanted the child to scratch his chin. The little one smelled so sweet—like fresh milk—that the Mechanical Beast flared his olfactory sensors, eager for another whiff. His claws stretched out hesitantly, as if wanting to touch the child.

Tristan lifted his head and gave him a blank stare.

The Mechanical Beast froze mid-motion, his wagging tail stiffening.

"*Whirr…*" With a deflated whine, the beast lowered himself to the ground, though his golden eyes remained fixed on the child. Suddenly, his sharp gaze caught on something, and his body tensed back up.

His scrutinizing stare landed on the child’s reddened knees.

The little one was like a tiny snowball—even the creases of his legs were a delicate pink. But his knees bore a small, fingernail-sized scrape, starkly visible against his fair skin.

Instinctively assuming the sandworms were to blame, the Mechanical Beast whipped his head toward the cowering creatures in the corner, his gaze turning like targeting scanners.

"...Hssss!" Though not particularly intelligent, the sandworms mustered a shred of self-preservation protocols.

Th-that was from him falling on his own!

Luo Ci, who hadn’t been clingy in so long, burrowed eagerly against Tristan’s chest with such enthusiasm that his nose turned pink. Noticing the Mechanical Beast’s growling at the sandworms, he bubbled with laughter and reached out to pat the beast’s tail, praising sincerely, "Big kitty is cute."

Mainly because the sandworms were just too ugly. The Mechanical Beast, on the other hand, was a masterwork of engineering, strength, and beauty—a truly magnificent big cat.

The child’s hands were small and soft, his milky fingers barely exerting any pressure as they touched the tail. Yet, the Mechanical Beast suddenly seized up completely, as if someone had hit his pause button. His golden eyes displayed static, losing focus.

Luo Ci tilted his head in confusion, tugging at Tristan’s sleeve. "What’s wrong with kitty...?"

"Emergency shutdown protocol triggered," Tristan replied flatly.

The protection protocol referred to an automatic reboot mechanism activated when a Mechanical Species experienced a system overload.

The Mechanical Beast’s tail was an exceptionally sensitive area, lined with billions of nanoscopic receptors—the most delicate and precise part of his entire body. The child’s feather-light touch, transmitting warmth and texture, overwhelmed the beast’s systems like an EMP-like surge, forcing a hard reset.

In simpler terms—he’d been touched in the wrong spot.

...Blue-screened.

Luo Ci looked down at his hands and went quiet for two seconds.

Tristan turned to No.03. "Transport him back to the factory for maintenance."

No.04 was overdue for diagnostics in decades and wouldn’t be allowed near the child until the procedure was complete.

No.03 obeyed, his synthesized voice repeating, "Containment protocol engaged... No.04."

Each step the heavy combat unit took sent tremors through the small junk planet. He dragged the struggling, mid-reboot cycle No.04 back to the battleship with brute force—like stuffing a spitting, thrashing feline into a cage.

"......" The witnesses stood frozen.

No.04 had been Sanole’s ultimate weapon for dominance all these years—a Mechanical Beast capable of annihilating sandworm armies and glassing entire sectors. Yet now, he was being subdued without any resistance.

For the Sanole faction, who had relied on the Mechanical Beast’s tyranny for so long... this was an existential crisis.

No.02 approached, carrying a sterile wrap, which he handed to Tristan. "The medical pod is ready."

Tristan nodded, swaddling the child securely in the blanket before striding toward the battleship.

The Robot Soldiers slowly closed ranks, forming a defensive perimeter around them.

The mechanical whale arced its colossal frame, its tail swaying as it gradually vanished from the star system, followed by the rest of the Mechanical Race’s fleet...

The junk planet’s inhabitants remained rooted in disbelief.

This was destined to be a sleepless night.

Celebrations and lamentations.

No.04 had undoubtedly been reclaimed by the Mechanical Race. After No.03’s return, Sanole had capitalized on Menglota’s decline, mocking them relentlessly—especially during the recent Interstellar Environmental Summit, where Sanole had dominated and pressured Menglota.

Now, the tables had turned, and panic had shifted to Sanole.

Especially when they witnessed their revered Mechanical Beast behaving like an obedient house cat in front of a child—their despair was palpable. Over the years, Sanole had thoroughly antagonized neighboring planets. Now, with their trump card publicly confiscated, they were likely squirming in their seats.

Fortune’s wheel had turned, and this time, it was Menglota’s turn to laugh.

To make matters worse, Sanole’s secret breeding of sandworms had been exposed, leaving them vulnerable to accusations at this critical moment.

Menglota wouldn’t let this opportunity slip. What followed would be high-stakes political maneuvering between the two factions.

Meanwhile, the focus of most public discourse on the star network remained the child cradled in the Mechanical Race’s hands.

After all, to retrieve their runaway little one, the Mechanical Race had nearly turned the entire star sector upside down. Some even connected the dots to the earlier Bubble Show controversy, feeling as though they’d uncovered the truth.

No matter what, after that seemingly endless night on the garbage planet, almost everyone now knew that the Mechanical Race had an exceptionally small, carefully raised, and particularly fragile child.

—

"Beep—"

The medical pod opened.

Luo Ci sat with her legs crossed, poking her tiny finger at her knee—the scar the size of a coin had completely vanished. Tilting her head up with a bright smile, she chirped, "Doesn't hurt anymore!"

The medical pod also had a cleaning function. She sniffed her smooth little arm, catching the fresh scent of bell flowers from the cleaning mist, mixed with the faint milky scent unique to children.

"Smells nice too!"

Medical pods were typically reserved for treating severe illnesses. If resource conservation groups saw one being used to heal minor scrapes or as a cleaning tool, they’d surely call it being pampered. But to the Mechanical Race, this was perfectly natural—children were precious, and nothing mattered more than their health and happiness.

She stretched her arms toward Tristan.

Tristan lifted her out of the pod.

Instinctively, Luo Ci wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder as she settled into the crook of his arm—her favorite position.

"I wanna walk!" She eagerly kicked her little legs, wanting to run around. Her short legs ran across the room before she rushed back into Tristan’s arms, snuggling against him. "Did you miss me?"

"Constantly."

Machines couldn’t lie. Luo Ci’s eyes crinkled into happy little crescents.

"Me too! I even dreamed about you."

Tristan nodded, gently stroking her hair. Machines didn’t need rest, so he’d spent far more time missing her than she could imagine.

To the child, it might’ve just been a three-day survival adventure. But for Tristan, he’d nearly searched the whole star system. Had he not located her in time, the Second Great Annihilation might’ve already started.

Yet now, with her soft little body nestled in his arms, her tiny heartbeat like a gentle rhythm, Tristan abandoned that thought entirely.

Carried to the bedroom, Luo Ci spotted her familiar Bunny Rabbit lying on the soft mattress. Her eyes lit up as she crawled over on her knees, hugging it tightly.

One arm clung to the Bunny Rabbit while the other gripped Tristan’s sleeve—an uncomfortable position. Adjusting his hold, Tristan cradled her against his chest until she settled comfortably.

Remembering the video he’d replayed 1,216 times, Tristan gently lifted her chin. "Did you cry?"

Puffing her cheeks, Luo Ci huffed, "Did not!"

"...Just got a lil’ red-eyed," she mumbled in a tiny voice.

"And I was super brave..." Lying across his lap, she chattered excitedly about her garbage planet adventures, as if reporting a grand achievement. Tristan already knew every detail, but he listened intently. "I was like Don Liebin!" (A protagonist from her favorite Bubble Show, a wandering adventurer.)

Exhausted from days without proper rest, her sleepy mumbles grew slower, her eyelids drooping.

"I’m sleepy..."

"Rest. When you wake up, we’ll be home, little adventurer." Tristan pulled the blanket over her.

Luo Ci whined, fighting sleep to finish her story, but her words tangled into incoherent mumbles about "John’s canned cookies" before she finally dozed off.

Gazing down at her face half-hidden against the pillow, Tristan noted how her cheeks had thinned and she’d lost three jin in just three days. During her absence, he’d examined every problem in their system.

Beyond upgrading the airborne castle’s internal circulation to ensure complete separation from external environments (eliminating any chance of breaches), Tristan had also scoured the Starnet for every guide on child care—perhaps interstellar beings had unique insights.

Unlike fragile humans, interstellar children were often sent to youth corps training by age 5-6, enduring survival training on jungle or glacial planets.

But now, looking at his thinner child...

Let her experience survival training again?

Without expression, Tristan tossed the idea into his system’s trash bin.

"Better not wander too far..."

He stayed watching by the bed until she fell fast asleep, her chubby little fingers instinctively finding her lips. Only after confirming her deep slumber did he gently pull her hand free.

After a long watch, he finally got up and went out.

The hallway was silent, save for No.02 waiting at the door.

"What will you do with the garbage planet and Donald?"

Tristan didn’t answer immediately.

He’d already retrieved all data on the garbage planet the moment he pinpointed his child’s location—

Only 1/50,000th the size of Yixu, it once yielded high-purity metals 500 years ago. After the sandworm disaster, it became a wasteland, later taken over by Sanole as a dumping ground and arena.

Originally, he’d planned to obliterate it. A single thought would’ve unleashed the Star Pursuit Cannon, reducing the miserable planet to stardust. But judging from his child’s excited story, she hadn’t disliked it—treating it as just an adventure.

"Leave the garbage planet be. As for Donald..."

Tristan’s mechanical eyes shifted imperceptibly.

Upon tracing the communication to the garbage planet’s hub, he’d reviewed the footage, noting Donald beside his child. The man’s profile appeared across the holographic screen instantly.

Tristan knew how cunning interstellar beings could be—their kindness was often poison wrapped as candy. But his child, innocent and trusting, wouldn’t understand. Donald frequented both slums and upper districts, deep in debt with a lousy credit score of 130. His motives were obvious.

More research showed Donald’s contact with a military academy three months prior—hence his need to borrow from fugitives. He’d use bribes, even selling people, for a chance to escape the garbage planet. Recently, the academy had arranged to pick him up from a nearby planet, making him desperate to board that starship.

While Tristan believed his child should learn the harsh realities—to lose unnecessary sympathy—

That didn’t excuse Donald for playing with her feelings.

The mere thought of her hiding alone, crying softly... made Tristan want to blast Donald into space dust.

"He’s not in the upper district. Likely still hiding in the slums. Take care of it."

"Understood. I’ll handle it thoroughly."

No.02 added, "What about the fugitives...?"

"Already taken care of."

While Tristan was putting the little master to sleep, he had already directed the Robot Soldiers to conduct a thorough sweep of the arena, including the starship crew that had taken the money and attempted to flee.

That's the leader's efficiency for you...

No.02 knew the leader could easily locate Donald, but assigning the task to him was meant to let him toy with Donald and teach him a lesson.

The arrival of the Mechanical Race on the trash planet wasn’t just a hot topic online—it had already spread by word of mouth, making it common knowledge even in the lowest districts of the planet.

Not only were the fugitives regretting their life choices, but Donald, hiding among the trash, was also eating his heart out.

He could hardly believe it—wasn’t that kid just a child raised by John? Who would’ve thought the kid he fished out of the trash would have ties to the Mechanical Species?

Because of one wrong choice, he now dared not show his face and missed the starship sent by the military academy to pick him up. This was the opportunity he had longed for, and no one knew how sick with regret he was.

He knew the Mechanical Race wouldn’t let him off, so he didn’t dare appear in the upper district or go to the distribution center—too many people knew him. For now, he could only hide and wander among the trash.

Donald was utterly green with regret.

While he was forced to hide in the garbage, Luo Ci was sleeping soundly on a soft bed.

Ten hours later, he came to.

Rubbing his eyes with tiny hands, he sat up in bed and took in the familiar bedroom surroundings—he was back in the sky castle.

A familiar warmth at his back. Luo Ci squirmed, wrapping his arms around Tristan’s waist and burying his face in his chest.

He had slept so well that he didn’t want to get up, his little mind still foggy, unsure whether the adventure on the trash planet had really happened or if it was just a dream.

Tilting his small face up, his sleep-thick voice asked, "Are we home?"

"We’re home."

Luo Ci, ever restless, rolled over again, his eyes crinkling into smiles. "The adventure was so fun!"

The little master's birthday had long passed, and the celebration had been ruined. Tristan was already preparing the next one. Since the little master was so interested in adventures, he worked it into the plans: "Next time, I’ll go on the adventure with you. Okay?"

"Okay, okay!" Luo Ci nodded eagerly.

Afraid Tristan might forget, he bent his little legs and struggled to sit up, hugging his arm. He stretched out a chubby, tiny white finger and hooked it. "Then let’s pinky swear!"

Tristan hooked his finger around hers.

Luo Ci immediately beamed and threw himself into his arms.

After more horseplay, Tristan carried the little master to the dining hall for a meal.

As soon as they stepped into the hallway, something felt off—the decorations had undergone a major change. He almost didn’t recognize the sky castle. Perhaps knowing the little master loved adventure, the previous ocean-themed wallpaper had been replaced with a jungle-meets-wasteland style.

His eyes widened, and he shook his head, looking around in amazement. Through the window, he spied the brand-new playground outside.

Cuddled in Tristan’s arms, his eyes sparkling, he pointed. "I wanna go..."

"After the safety inspection, I’ll take you."

The playground was set up, but it hadn’t been safety-checked yet, so he couldn’t play there.

Luo Ci nodded obediently.

They descended the spiral staircase to the first-floor dining hall.

From afar, he sniffed the air curiously, as if catching a scent.

In the dining hall, No.02 and No.03 were present, a mechanical hand holding up a towering apple cake.

The message was clear:

A celebration for the little master’s return.

The cake had so many layers that he couldn’t even count them all. His tiny mouth opened in awe. "So many apples!"

"It was my idea," No.02 said. "According to human records, apples stand for safety."

No.03 remained silent, holding perfectly still for fear of toppling the cake.

Luo Ci’s eyes glistened, touched by the Mechanical Species’ care for him. Even if they couldn’t convey emotions, their actions said it all.

His little eyes welled up, and he gave a little sniffle, rubbing his cheeks before plucking at Tristan’s shirt. "It’s so big. Let’s cut more slices to share with the other Robot Soldiers in the castle?"

No.02 brought out a cake knife.

Made of soft plastic, made just for kids—it wouldn’t hurt his hands.

Luo Ci puffed out his cheeks, clenched his tiny fists, and wriggled his bottom, struggling to cut halfway through before getting stuck.

"Eep...!"

Frustrated, the little master tearfully turned to his guardian for help.

Clutching the knife, he toddled over to Tristan and tugged at his sleeve.

Tristan worked his fingers.

Gently, he covered his small fist with his palm.

His five tiny white fingers curled together like a tiny snowball.

His large hand carefully guided his, more cautious than when unleashing armageddon. Slowly, he applied pressure.

Finally, Luo Ci cut a slice and turned to hug Tristan with a grin.

"This plate is for No.02..." As he cut, he prattled on, naming everyone.

His voice was soft, but the nearby Mechanical Race heard him clearly. The named Robot Soldiers inched forward when he called their names.

He even set aside a slice for the Mechanical Beast in the shop. Naturally, his curiosity turned to the unseen No.05. He asked innocently in his tiny, sugary voice, "Is No.05 on some planet like Sanole?"

Tristan: "You’ve met him already."

"He’s here with us."

"Huh?"