After Transmigrating, I Raised Cubs in the Insectoid Clan - Chapter 10

Soon it was noon. Samuel brought the final dish to the table: soft and sweet small cakes, accompanied by glossy, red sweet and sour pork, crisp and fresh stir-fried seasonal vegetables, and a steaming pot of pork rib and lotus root soup. The staple was glistening, translucent short-grain rice.

The vegetables were just random greens bought from the supermarket; Samuel didn’t quite remember their names, but they were tender and refreshing, carrying a faint natural sweetness.

The meal was prepared, but the cook himself had little appetite. Between the fatigue and the fact that he was preoccupied with taking Suter to the hospital for a check-up that afternoon, he only ladled a small bowl of rib soup, taking two slow sips and picking at a few vegetables.

His attention was entirely on Suter. His most frequent action was placing food in Suter’s bowl. Sweet and sour pork was piled in, the most tender ribs were picked out and moved over, and several slices of lotus root followed. The rice was quickly buried under a thick layer of meat and vegetables.

Suter’s feigned, dignified eating speed was no match for Samuel’s relentless serving. The food in his bowl piled higher and higher until it nearly peaked, and Suter’s small, palm-sized face was almost hidden behind the rim.

“I… I can serve myself…”

Samuel gave him no chance. With a flick of his chopsticks, he added another piece of sauce-coated pork: “Just eat.”

Suter’s ear tips burned. He had no choice but to bury his face back in the bowl and eat in silence. However, his eyes uncontrollably drifted to the side. The exquisite small cake sat not far away, its cream snowy white and delicate, topped with fresh strawberry slices and colorful candy crumbles, emitting an inviting sweet fragrance.

Samuel had been watching him, naturally noticing the small movements Suter thought were well-hidden.

Tap, tap.

Long fingers tapped gently on the tabletop. Samuel put on a stern face, like the strictest teacher in a kindergarten: “Eat first. You can only have snacks after you finish your meal.”

Suter immediately straightened up and nodded obediently. He forced his gaze away from the cake and began shoveling rice into his mouth, his cheeks bulging like a little hamster sneaking food.

“Eat slowly,” Samuel couldn’t help but remind him. Really, it wasn’t as if any other insect was going to snatch it from him.

After the meal, Suter finally got his wish and ate the long-awaited strawberry cake. The cream melted on his tongue, smooth and delicate, while the cake itself was soft and moist—sweet without being cloying. Although the strawberries had a hint of tartness, they were perfectly neutralized by the powdered sugar and candy crumbles. The blend of sweet and sour was so delicious it made him squint his eyes.

He radiated an aura of “I am happy” from head to toe, which even the little robot nearby noticed. Xiao Su tilted its round head and pointed a mechanical finger at the cake in his hand: “What is this?”

Suter licked a bit of cream from the corner of his mouth and answered solemnly, “This is strawberry cake.”

“Is it good?” Xiao Su’s electronic eyes flickered with curiosity.

“It’s not good,” Suter said without changing his expression, while simultaneously stuffing the last bite of cake into his mouth. His cheeks were bulging, but his eyes were triumphant.

Xiao Su’s LED eyes dimmed instantly, its mechanical arms sagged, and the whole robot wilted, looking as if it might shed cyber-tears the next second. Samuel watched from the side, caught between laughter and tears.

After eating, Samuel let Suter pick an outfit from the wardrobe to go out. Suter opened the closet as instructed and fell into silence at the sight of the packed wardrobe.

Various clothes hung neatly, ranging from casual linen shirts to crisp, military-style coats, arranged by color from light to dark. A lower drawer was half-open, revealing sharply folded knitwear, each piece emitting a faint scent of soap—clearly freshly washed.

Suter’s fingertips cautiously touched the cuff of a deep blue stand-collar shirt. The texture was unbelievably soft, a high-quality natural material. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he suddenly remembered his old clothes, which had been mended repeatedly, the cuffs always worn shiny.

Samuel’s voice came from behind: “What’s wrong? You don’t like any of them?”

Only then did Suter realize his hand had been hanging in mid-air for quite a while. He quickly retracted it, clenching it into a fist behind his back, feeling a bit lost and overwhelmed.

“No…” His voice was tight. “There are too many.”

He spoke very softly. In front of Samuel, he was always careful, speaking in a measured, gentle tone as if following a textbook. The sunlight hit the side of his face, tinting his eyelashes a pale gold, looking like dancing gold dust against the light.

He couldn’t help but look back into the closet. On the far edge hung several sets of noticeably smaller children’s clothes—clearly prepared for his regressed state. Suter’s gaze lingered on the small shark onesie for a second before he quickly looked away. He chose a simple white shirt and black trousers. It wasn’t a particularly standout look, but Samuel said nothing, respecting Suter’s choice.

That afternoon, Samuel took Suter to the hospital for a check-up. The afternoon sun filtered through the hospital’s glass windows, casting dappled shadows on the corridor. They arrived at the same hospital where Samuel had first woken up; the familiar smell of disinfectant lingered in the air.

“Excellency Samuel, this is the list of all available check-up items the hospital can perform,” a doctor said, handing over a form with a professional smile.

Samuel took it, picked up a pen, and quickly checked every item Suter was eligible for. Before handing the form back, he checked it once more to ensure nothing was missed. Finally, in the patient name column, he solemnly wrote the name “Suter” in steady, firm strokes.

“Excellency Samuel, please come this way.”

The doctor took the form and bowed slightly, instinctively stepping aside to clear a path. However, his gaze couldn’t help but drift toward Samuel’s slightly pale complexion. This Excellency truly looked like he needed a comprehensive check-up himself.

“No, it’s… my cub…” Samuel said. “He is the one who needs the check-up.”

He pointed toward the bench in the waiting area. Suter was sitting there primly, his silver hair reflecting a cold luster under the lights. His slender fingers were nervously rubbing the edge of the seat. Hearing this, he stood up and looked over with some anxiety.

The doctor was visibly stunned, his eyes widening behind his glasses. The hospital corridor fell silent for a few seconds. He pushed up his slipping glasses, his professional training allowing him to recover quickly.

“You mean… this female?” the doctor repeated.

Samuel seemed not to notice the doctor’s shock, merely nodding calmly: “That’s him.”

After receiving the male’s confirmation, the doctor quickly turned toward Suter, forcing a professional smile: “Then… this way… please follow me.” The tremble in his voice was impossible to hide.

The doctor’s mind was racing. How many days had it been since Excellency Samuel was discharged? Three days? Five? How was there already such a large…

He stole a glance at Suter’s upright posture and sharp jawline. This didn’t look like an underage cub at all! He looked more like an elite military female fresh off the battlefield. Even more shocking was Samuel’s attitude. This male was gently patting the female’s shoulder, his voice soft and encouraging, telling him not to be afraid and that he would wait for him outside.

The doctor felt his worldview being challenged; this was completely inconsistent with his knowledge of males!

The hospital intercom was announcing the list of specialists on duty. Amidst the noisy background, Samuel walked to Suter’s side, his palm resting gently on his shoulder.

“Go do the check-up,” Samuel softened his voice, his fingertips giving a reassuring press on Suter’s shoulder. “These are just basic items, including checks on your wing pouches and your mental sea. I’ve found a senior doctor to personally examine you; it won’t hurt much.”

He paused, then added: “I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

Suter pursed his lips. Samuel, thinking he was afraid or uncomfortable, offered an incentive: “If you finish all the checks, there’s a reward.”

Suter was taken down: “What?”

Samuel winked playfully: “I’ll tell you when you come out.”

Suter was slightly confused, but ultimately he nodded. The doctor led Suter toward the first examination room with somewhat frantic steps.

Inside the room, Dr. Engels was looking down, organizing instruments; the metal tweezers made a crisp clinking sound against the tray. When those jade-green eyes entered his field of vision, his fingers suddenly froze. That shade of green was too special. It was like fresh sprouts in early spring, or the color of the deepest part of a mountain lake—pure, without a single impurity.

He was far too familiar with those eyes. During his student days, the photo of this senior was hung on the Honor Wall of the Military Academy. Back then, Suter wore a crisp military formal uniform, his silver hair tied meticulously back, and only those green eyes softened the sharpness of the entire photograph. Junior students would often whisper during training breaks that those eyes were a gift from the God of War.

He could still clearly remember graduation day. Suter had stood on stage as the representative for outstanding graduates. The sun had shone through the stained glass of the chapel onto him, those magnificent eyes glowing like real gems in the light.

And now, those eyes were staring at him calmly.

“Admiral?” he said instinctively.

Suter’s gaze was as calm as a pool of stagnant water, showing no surprise at the fact the doctor recognized him. He didn’t deny it; instead, he took two steps forward, his boots making almost no sound on the tile. His jade eyes slowly swept across the room before settling on Dr. Engels’ face, then he gave a slight smile.

After the check-up began, the doctor who brought Suter left. Throughout the entire process, Suter showed incredible cooperation, as if he were just an ordinary patient.

As the final test concluded, Engels was about to turn and inform him of several abnormal indicators when he suddenly felt a chill at his neck. Unnoticed, a scalpel was already pressed against his carotid artery. The sharp blade gleamed coldly under the shadowless lamp. With a slight movement of Suter’s wrist, the reflected cold light danced across his jaw like a venomous snake ready to strike.

“Excuse me, but may I borrow your optical computer?”

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