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| The Beloved Little Mother Insect (LITTLE MOTHER) |
On the warship during the return journey, it was difficult to tell whether it was day or night or whether it was time to eat or sleep just by observing the nebula changes outside the window.
Fortunately, there were constant reminders inside. When the mechanical voice echoed throughout the warship, Pearl knew what to do during that time slot.
Here, he truly had ample freedom—
Around seven in the morning, Pearl, accustomed to a regular schedule, would automatically wake up in the soft large bed. With the assistance of the guide ball, he would wash up, then change into a convenient shirt and knee-length overalls, resembling a little prince, wearing calf-length socks and brown leather shoes.
He would tie his long white hair behind him with an elastic band and let it hang loosely down his back. A few strands would occasionally fall by his temples, which Pearl would patiently tuck behind his ears, revealing a pale face that was gradually gaining a touch of color.
Once ready, Pearl would follow the guide ball to the dining hall.
He would order a nutritional agent in a different flavor, but this time, he would set aside half of it in a small teacup to later "sneak" to 02—his new friend, who never seemed to get enough to eat.
After the meal, Pearl would go to the greenhouse to play with the StarCloud Hound and the Little Sand Lizard.
Of course, given the circumstances of an Artificial Human and two Beasts, they couldn’t play very exciting games. Most of the time, Pearl would lie on the StarCloud Hound’s back, with the Sand Lizard perched on Pearl’s head and listening together as the guide ball told stories.
Pearl realized that, away from the auction house, the days felt much longer and more relaxed.
No longer surrounded by endless tasks or subjected to constant belittlement and scolding from the auction house, the gentle-natured little artificial person no longer needed to cower in corners, enduring repetitive and hopeless days while waiting for time to pass.
Most living beings possess a psychological mechanism to avoid dwelling on pain, and Pearl was no exception.
From the first time he was returned to now, he rarely recalled past experiences. The tightly wound string of constant fear and anxiety gradually loosened, casting a faint haze over his memories—blurring them into a protective film that shielded Pearl.
Squinting slightly, Pearl lay on the grass, with his soft, dry white hair mingling with the StarCloud Hound's fur. Bathed in the warmth of the greenhouse's artificial sunlight, he gently wiggled his toes, suddenly enveloped by a shallow sense of happiness.
It was the scent of joy.
...
After playing enough with the StarCloud Hound and the Little Sand Lizard, Pearl would begin his work at the reminder of the guide ball—providing psionic power to the Narga People.
This was how he repaid his temporary stay on the warship.
Of course, before starting this task, Pearl had mustered the courage to seek out Aslan once—like a young person turning to a trusted elder for guidance, for which Pearl received some "employment advice."
Pearl feared the silver-white, coldly murderous eyes in Aslan's psionic memories, yet he also developed a strange dependency on him due to the psionic nourishment.
Like a hatchling imprinting on the first being it sees after breaking out of its shell, Pearl often wavered between fear and the desire to approach.
But the urge to draw near far outweighed the fear.
Back then, when Pearl followed the guide ball to find Aslan, the latter was standing in the warship's library.
In the space age, high-tech optical computers had replaced most paper books, but some old-fashioned and nostalgic lives still preferred the slight friction of fingertips brushing against book pages.
Like Aslan.
He seemed out of place among all the technological creations on the warship—quiet and cold, like a massive boulder standing in the distance, almost devoid of any emotional fluctuations. Only when he glimpsed the cautious Little Mother Insect peeking through the doorway did a hint of softness appear in his calm, profound eyes.
And when Aslan's gaze shifted to the corridor beyond the door, he saw several Narga People crowded at the hallway's corner, with only half their necks visible, each holding their breath and minimizing their presence.
Among them were masked members of the Scorpion group, elegant nobles from the Guard Army, polite gentlemen from the Order Alliance, and a few hulking figures from the Blood-burning group who looked overwhelmingly powerful.
Each of them held either antique vases from the warship, armor decorations from the corner, or small rugs laid on the steps that could easily trip someone with too low a step...
Clearly, they had passed by and observed the Little Mother Insect feeling his way along, but grew concerned and decided to follow discreetly while removing any items that might hinder Pearl's progress.
Thus, the group gradually grew from one or two to over a dozen.
—This was a smooth and safe path.
The little prince who couldn't see the world had his monster knight regiment escorting him. No one could bear to let him experience the confusion and uncertainty of stumbling forward in darkness again.
They were a group of loyal puppies.
Aslan withdrew his gaze from the loyal puppies and instead raised his hand. Pure white mycelium twisted and extended out that gently touched Pearl's fingers before he could speak.
The beautiful Little Mother Insect was led into this study filled with the scent of books.
Pearl followed the Mycelium closer, finding it almost impossible to discern Aslan's overly faint and ethereal presence. Even though the other's body temperature was high, the icy pale Mycelium was enough to counteract that warmth.
So much so that when Pearl prepared to move forward, he was stopped by a pair of warm hands pressing on his shoulders.
Puzzled, he tilted his head upward, his chin seemingly brushing against something.
It felt somewhat warm, somewhat hard, yet not absolutely hard... Well, perhaps it should be described as elastic?
Pearl abruptly stepped back and a faint blush appeared on his bewildered face as he instinctively apologized: "S-sorry..."
The slight touch on his skin still retained the sensation of that moment. Aslan's eyelashes fluttered slightly, and the hand on Pearl's shoulder tightened momentarily.
But it was very subtle, even Pearl himself hadn't noticed.
Aslan: "Hmm?"
Pearl recalled what the other had said yesterday—Why apologize? Did I forbid you from touching me?
Then he remembered the Beast that was instantly devoured to bones by the Mycelium in the psionic dreamscape.
If one makes mistakes and doesn't correct them, they'll be eaten to bones by the Mycelium, right...
Pearl shuddered, even feeling like he heard a hint of threat and intimidation in that "hmm," making him instinctively want to comply with Aslan's words.
So he hurriedly said: "Then n-no sorry!"
And quite loudly at that.
Aslan: "..."
Aslan: "Hmm."
The Mycelium manipulated the door to close, blocking the peeking puppies at the end of the corridor who couldn't bear to be away from their master. Then Aslan used the Mycelium to guide Pearl before slowly walking to the window-side sofa in the reading room designed similar to a tatami.
Cosmic nebulae floated magnificently, casting a dreamy light upon them.
As a guide, Aslan had spent long years alone. He appeared patient and calm, merely asking the Little Mother Insect what matter had brought him here.
Pearl twisted his fingers, blinked his eyes, and whispered: "I want to, re-repay you all."
Whether in the black market or auction houses, or anywhere else in the world, when you gain something, you must also follow the rules and pay the price.
Pearl knew this rule well. Therefore, after receiving preferential treatment on this warship, he couldn't help but constantly think about reciprocation and repayment.
What he could offer now seemed to be only psionic soothing.
Aslan countered: "Do you know how to repay?"
If it could ease the Little Mother Insect's anxiety and tension, then he wouldn't stop the other's thoughts and actions.
Pearl nodded then shook his head, somewhat uncertain. "Probably... know? It's... psionic soothing, and li-link..."
Aslan gently tapped the hard spine of the thick book in his hand, his voice deep and steady. "Pearl, relax—"
This was probably the first time Aslan had called him by name.
Pearl took a deep breath, his face even flushing slightly red—not from shyness, but from pure nervousness.
Aslan felt somewhat helpless. This little one seemed excessively... afraid of him?
He said, "Your psionic power is still immature, but—moderate psionic soothing for those pups would be beneficial for your physical condition."
Pups?
Pearl blinked with his mouth slightly agape, feeling as if he had just heard something astonishing.
Aslan paid no mind to the Little Mother Insect's surprise and continued, "Light psionic soothing is just right for your current state. The simplest method can be achieved through some physical contact. Do you understand?"
He spoke at a measured pace, enunciating clearly to help the Little Mother Insect comprehend.
Pearl nodded obediently, like a primary school student answering a teacher's question, "I understand."
He felt as if he had become a bit smarter compared to his time at the auction house... In the past, such a long string of words would have taken him a long time to process, and he might not have even understood them at all.
"As for physical contact..."
Aslan pondered for a moment, suddenly recalling those young and reckless fellows trailing behind Pearl... precisely at the age where they loved to fight for the Little Mother Insect.
"Tch."
The typically stoic Chief of the Silver Species furrowed his brow slightly and his gaze once again falling upon the Little Mother Insect sitting quietly beside him, with hands clasped on his lap and his expression almost unnaturally docile.
With such a soft and vulnerable appearance, wouldn't those pups seize every opportunity to bully him relentlessly?
"Physical contact should be limited to handshakes and hugs."
Like a physiology teacher facing a Little Mother Insect who understood nothing, Aslan had to prevent the possibility of the other being taken advantage of by mischievous boys. "Otherwise they'll keep pushing their limits."
Pearl listened attentively while nodding from time to time, almost as if he wanted to take out a notebook and jot things down.
After Aslan finished speaking, Pearl cautiously asked, "B-but I'm not good at this. Will they r-really feel comfortable after we're done?"
Pearl still remembered back on the barren planet, when he tried hard to receive the psionic power from Hui and Ega, doing his best to "soothe" them. Yet when he was completely exhausted, he found the corrupted phantoms floating around them remained thick and dense, with only a very small portion having slightly faded.
This made Pearl feel defeated, even fearing that the talk about effectiveness was just comfort from the Narga People.
They were all good people.
Better than anyone Pearl had encountered in the black market or auction houses.
The Narga People as Offspring: receiving the "good person card".jpg
But Aslan showed a rare, fleeting smile. "Pearl, don't underestimate yourself."
His hand rested on the Little Mother Insect's head. As the other visibly froze in surprise, Aslan simply said, "You're far better than you think you are."
Better?
Pearl pressed his lips together as he swung his feet while sitting on the tatami, feeling a small flutter of excitement in his heart.
He suddenly spoke up: "Th-then, do you need it? I can do it for you."
Aslan tilted his head, his silver-white eyes catching sight of Pearl's trembling eyelashes caused by nervousness.
Like a little butterfly about to fall into a spider's web.
Small animals are always sensitive to danger. The Artificial Human sitting on the tatami suddenly felt a chill on the back of his neck. He turned his head in confusion before reaching back to touch his neck but found nothing.
That eerie, cold sensation of being instantly entangled by something had come suddenly and disappeared rapidly, leaving no clues behind.
So fast it felt like an illusion.
In the silence, Pearl could hear the beating of his own heart. He couldn't help but pinch his fingers, wondering if he had asked an offensive question.
Instinctively, he wanted to apologize again.
Pearl: "Sor—"
"Shh."
The Artificial Human's soft, pale pink lips were gently pressed by a deep tan finger. Aslan interrupted the unspoken "I'm sorry," before subtly adjusting his clothes before whispering, "...Go do what you want to do."
The conversation ended leaving Pearl feeling somewhat confused. By the time he realized what happened, the Mycelium had already guided him to the door.
As the door closed, Pearl only heard Aslan's final words.
Aslan said—
"Don't be too polite with those pups."
"And, I'll teach them how to serve you."
The young mad pups charge recklessly. Rather than relieving their own desires, what they need to learn is restraint and self-control, then how to properly serve the little mother who will melt softly in their arms.
Only obedient puppies get the chance to receive rewards.
...
The reading room returned to tranquility, with heavy books lying flat on the tatami, their thin pages rustling faintly.
The Silver Species' God of War, who had been effortlessly composed before the Little Mother Insect, sat silently in his seat with a suppressed tension. He gazed at the fingertip that had once touched the Little Mother Insect's lips, his expression dark and unreadable. After a long stare, his Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he turned his hand over and pressed it gently against his leg.
Then he tilted his head to the side, his deep features bathed in the magnificent starlight from the window.
The white hem of Aslan's sleeve draped over his leg as he half-closed his eyes. His chest, deep in color and full, rose and fell faintly, his Adam's apple partially visible, and restraint evident between his brows.
He resembled a gentle and silent statue, yet one that sealed a demon within its depths.
...
From that day on, Pearl became like a little merchant, opening his own small shop for psionic power soothing.
He was the sole proprietor.
Perhaps because he had witnessed the most terrifying side of Aslan, by the time he formally opened his "shop," Pearl had approached the other Narga People with much more equanimity.
He thought Olovikin, Hui, and Tilan were all quite clever, but he was worried that Ega might overthink things. So, with a pat to his own little head, he decided to invite all of them to his room at once—
Of course, he extended the invitations one by one, so none of them knew others would be present.
Each believed they were special, each felt they had won the Little Mother Insect's favor, and each genuinely looked forward to this whimsical little invitation.
Thus, that evening, four high-ranking Narga, who had gone all out in their attire, gathered simultaneously at the Little Mother Insect's door. They glanced at each other, and when all eight eyes met, they let out simultaneous sneers—
Tilan pressed down the corner of his mouth, glanced at the fresh red rose pinned to Olovikin's noble attire, and remarked sarcastically, "Hah, flashy."
Olovikin looked at Ega's mask and the form-fitting combat suit that perfectly outlined his chest, abdominal muscles, waist, hips, and thighs, then lowered his eyelids slightly. "Tch, secretly flashy."
Ega pursed his lips and turned to Hui, who was impeccably dressed in a military uniform with a monocle, appearing calm and rational.
His Tail Hook swayed in the air, which translated to "hypocrite."
Hui's brow twitched as his gaze fell on Tilan's strategically placed earring, half-finger gloves, and the shirt unbuttoned to reveal half his chest. He casually shook the firmly buttoned, restraint-filled fabric at his own collar and said with utter disdain, "I suggest more training."
Tilan looked as if he'd swallowed a fly before eyeing Hui's chest muscles that did seem slightly fuller than his own (just slightly), and let out a cold laugh. Just as he was about to retort, Xagai passed by from the other end of the hallway while wearing a tank top and combat pants, with sweat still glistening at his temples.
The man with the deep red buzz cut paused slightly, the scar on his face twitching as he narrowed his eyes, exuding a fierce, outlaw-like aura.
Like a beast that had just eaten its fill—ferocious yet languid.
Xagai's eyes swept over each of his "dressed-up," flamboyant clansmen. He gave a fake smile with bared teeth and tossed out the remark, "You all look like horny male dogs fighting over a bone," and walked away without looking back.
Ega/Hui/Tilan/Olovikin: ...
Mind your own business, or you might not even get to be a dog in the future!!!
In the midst of their standoff, the door opened from the inside.
The Little Mother Insect, already changed into his nightgown, peeked out his head while blinking his vacant eyes as he asked, "Have... have you all arrived?"
Hui instantly softened his tone, "We're all here. Sorry to keep you waiting."
Olovikin revealed an elegant smile, "Good evening, dear Little Pearl."
Tilan grinned, the earring on his ear glinting, "Good evening, Mr. Bunny."
Pearl first responded to Hui, "N-not long at all, just perfect."
Then he turned to Olovikin and Tilan: "G-good evening."
Finally, he smiled at the quiet Ega, reaching out to touch the black tail hook that had stealthily coiled around his wrist. With a somewhat childish gesture, he pinched the tip of the tail hook, "G-good evening to you too."
Ega's throat moved slightly, and a muffled "Mm" came from behind his mask. He tightened the tail hook around the Little Mother Insect's wrist, like an obedient puppy wagging its tail only for its mother.
Hui/Tilan/Olovikin: Damn it, beaten by the gloomy masked guy!!! Think you're so great with that tail hook?!
Ega: Indeed I am.
Can nuzzle, snuggle, and coil around Little Mother.
Inside the room—
Pearl did not conceal his thoughts. Due to their first meeting on the barren planet, he held varying degrees of reliance on the high-ranking Narga people in the room.
Of course, he was clearly closest to Ega recently.
"—So, I... I want to use psionic power soothing to re... repay you."
A single sentence, not very fluent, and even seeming weak due to the speaker's stutter, yet it simultaneously froze everyone's expressions.
Even though the Mother Insect had not yet acknowledged his identity, his every move seemed to tell his Offspring: I am here, I will embrace you, I will nourish you with my soft chest...
It was a strange feeling—swelling and arduous. After the initial burden of the King's responsibility was temporarily shouldered by the Little Mother Insect, what surged more prominently was the jealousy of the Narga People as his Offspring.
Their Mother, their fragile and tender Little Mother, was already learning to open his soft embrace to accept these wild and fierce Offspring...
And they were to become the driving force in this "repayment"—the more psionic power soothing, the stronger the connection between the Mother Insect and the Narga People.
They were inherently bound, inseparable from one another.
—Just a secretly hidden, despicable little thought.
Ega's tail hook slid silently, coiling inch by inch up Pearl's calf like a chain, temporarily locking this beautiful and alluring Little Pearl within his own shadow.
The cool tail hook brushed against skin tinged with a slight tremble. Pearl's ankle shifted slightly and a faint pink flush spread across his beautiful face as he let out a soft, quiet gasp.
Ega's voice remained hoarse, carrying the roughness of long disuse, but it wasn't unpleasant, "...What do you need us to do?"
Pearl pursed his lips, revealing a somewhat shy smile, "Please help me."
He wanted to reciprocate the help the Narga People had given him.
...
Psionic power soothing was bidirectional for the Mother Insect and their Offspring—the perfect scenario being mutual understanding and intimacy.
But for this generation of young high-ranking Narga People, such formal "pacification" felt somewhat unfamiliar over four hundred years after the Mother Insect's disappearance.
When Hui and the others had accidentally facilitated Pearl's first psionic power pacification on the Irradiated Wasteland, their actions were actually irregular—the young pups had only taken without properly serving their Little Mother Insect.
Just as Aslan had said, he would teach them how to serve Pearl.
Pleasing, attending, serving, reverse care and pacification.
Mature and qualified Offspring must prioritize the Little Mother Insect's every need.
They should ensure Pearl feels pleasure throughout the process and conclusion of this psionic power pacification.
Aslan's voice was deep, having withdrawn all the gentleness and patience he showed Pearl when facing the pups craving their mother, revealing only indifference and severity...
"If you can't even please him, what use are you?"
Though the young high-ranking Narga People might show resentment toward this ancient-era "predecessor," when it came to matters concerning the Little Mother Insect, they could only choose submission and obedience.
Olovikin revealed a smile, his narrow and gentle eyes holding a trace of provocation, "Of course, we will definitely serve Little Pearl well, making him feel happy and comfortable."
Aslan coldly withdrew his gaze, merely signaling them to keep their word.
...
With two days remaining until their arrival at the Imperial Star, Xagai recently felt something was amiss—
As the Chief of the Blood-burning group, his greatest passion from birth till now had been combat: sparring with fellow clansmen, and battling Beasts. Violence and blood best stimulate Xagai's ferocity and emotions. Whenever he fully immersed himself in battle, he genuinely felt pleasure.
This characteristic was likely common to every member of the Blood-burning group. Throughout the entire Narga Empire, they held another title: "Blood-burning."
Just as the name literally implies, on the Beast battlefield, they could enhance their strength by burning their own blood. They were the most powerful insect species in the entire Empire in terms of combat capability, and also the most numerous but with the highest number of sacrifices over the years.
When blood was exhausted, death became easy.
As the Chief, Xagai was naturally among the best of them.
He knew he wouldn't live very long—perhaps one day his head would be torn off by a Beast, or perhaps one day he would meet death when his blood was completely burned out. Compared to going berserk and self-destructing due to psionic power collapse, he would rather take his own body and perish together with the Beast, truly embodying the title of "Blood-burning."
It was also because of this temperament that during non-combat periods, he always preferred to spend his time in the training room, practicing for a whole day until he reached his limit.
And the other members of the Blood-burning group were Xagai's sparring partners.
—That was how it had always been.
But in the last two days, Xagai suddenly noticed that the number of team members gathering in the training room seemed much smaller.
Were they training privately behind his back?
Wearing a vest and combat pants suitable for fighting, with a scarf draped around his neck, Xagai glanced at the sparsely populated training room and couldn't help but ask, "Where are the others?"
A cool, buzz-cut tough guy who had just finished sparring with a partner rubbed his bruised mouth corner and grinned, "Heh... Boss, they've all gone for Psionic Soothing."
"Doing what?"
Xagai felt like his auditory nerves were malfunctioning. He furrowed his brows, revealing a fierceness akin to that of a wild dog, and retorted, "—Psionic Soothing?"
"Yes."
The cool tough guy nodded while grinning widely, which actually softened his originally fierce demeanor, and made him seem like a warm, big dog-type guy. "That Little Mother Insect, he's giving everyone Psionic Soothing in the small reception room on the seventh floor of the warship. Although it's only superficial, it seems quite effective..."
Xagai sneered, picked up a half-empty water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and poured it over his head to wash away the heat from training. He said, "Go if you want, but don't neglect training. We'll be heading to Clear Light Planet 3 to purge Beasts on the same day we arrive at the Imperial Star. Everyone better stay sharp and not get careless."
"Boss, we'll definitely stay sharp!"
The cool guy nodded, then couldn't resist adding, "But Boss, how did you feel about the last Beast Proving Ground?"
Xagai lifted his eyelids indifferently, "What do you mean how?"
"Boss, don't you want to try it too? They say it's quite effective. If it works for you..."
"No."
Xagai narrowed his eyes, his expression turning dangerous, and his voice cooling by a degree. "I won't stop you from doing it, but don't try to persuade me either. If you want to be the Mother Insect's dog, do it sooner rather than later, so the teams next door don't out-wag their tails at you."
Cool guy: "But..."
"No buts."
Xagai said, "I have no intention of kneeling before the Mother Insect and wagging my tail for pity."
Seeing that he couldn't persuade Xagai, the cool tough guy had no choice but to give up, raising his voice to say, "Then Boss, I'm going to give it a try!"
Xagai waved his hand, not wanting to see or hear any more of it, "Get lost!"
The training room quieted down, and the team member's figure quickly disappeared at the end of the corridor. Xagai walked to a spot near the window, silently staring at the vast sea of stars with his expression inscrutable.
He would never become the Mother Insect's tail-wagging, pity-begging dog!!! Never!!!
Meanwhile, in the reception room on the seventh floor of the warship—
On the small sofa near the window, Pearl sat quietly and tilted his head up to "look" at the high-ranking Narga standing before him. He asked softly, "I-Is it time for Psionic Soothing?"
The tall figure paused for a moment, his throat moving as he gave a muffled reply, "Yes."
Pearl's eyes lit up, "02, is that you?"
Before the usually taciturn deputy chief of the Scorpion group, 02, could respond, Pearl tilted his head further and whispered, "H-Have you eaten enough today?"
02 instinctively touched the half-empty tube of nutritional agent still tucked in the side of his combat suit. The tail hook hanging behind him swayed slightly, unable to restrain itself and urging him to answer the Little Mother Insect's question. "I'm full."
Pearl smiled. Even he himself hadn't noticed that since boarding this warship, the smiles on his face seemed to be growing more and more frequent.
02's gaze shifted slightly. Just by looking at the Little Mother Insect's beautiful smile, he felt that the bone-crushing pain throughout his body seemed less noticeable...
Pearl asked, "H-How would you like to receive the s-soothing?"
A handshake or a hug—this was the choice Pearl offered every "guest."
It was also a rule Aslan had set to keep these pups in check.
02 leaned down, inching closer to Pearl, "...I want a hug."
Then, to the Little Mother Insect's slight surprise, 02 knelt on one knee and slowly wrapped his arms around Pearl's waist before burying his masked face against it while taking a deep breath.
Mother... so fragrant, I love it so much...
He drew familiar scents from this soft, pliant touch. For a moment, his face beneath the mask twisted with overwhelming desire, leaving only his tail hook swaying behind him like a puppy's wagging tail, then carefully hooking and nuzzling against Pearl's ankle.
Bare, warm, and delicate.
02 suppressed his restless emotions, silently mouthing the word "Mother" between his lips, sticky and entangling.
While 02 was lost in the embrace of the Mother Insect, outside the reception room in the corridor stood several high-ranking Narga with grim expressions and varying bruises on their handsome faces.
They were the defeated dogs of this battle, unqualified to approach the Little Mother Insect, and could only hide in dark corners to lick their wounds, waiting for the next opportunity.
How could such a beautiful and soft Mother not provoke the pups to fight over him?
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