After Transmigrating, I Raised Cubs in the Insectoid Clan - Chapter 4

Samuel rubbed the metal clasp of the strawberry pendant one last time with his fingertips, murmuring softly, “It is a bit difficult to put on.”

His voice held a hint of frustration, and the setting sun outside the window tinted the tips of his ears a pale pink. He made a mental note to order a chain with an easier release from the Star Network over the next couple of days. That way, if he ever were not by Suter’s side, Suter could put the necklace on by himself.

As he thought this, he let out a sharp hiss while straightening up; kneeling on the hard timber floor for so long had caused a fine, stinging pain in his knees. His gaze, however, instinctively followed Suter’s neck, where the crisscrossing, terrifying scars were healing at a rate visible to the naked eye.

Samuel’s eyes widened in wonder, and he even lightened his breathing, fearing he might disturb this incredible self-healing process.

“Let me take a closer look.”

He carefully had Suter lie flat on the sofa. The smaller wounds were nearly closed, and a semi-transparent film had already formed over the edges of the deeper gashes.

“How do you feel now?”

“Fine.”

Upon receiving an affirmative answer, Samuel took Suter’s wrist. It was more slender than he had imagined, and he could clearly feel the prominent wrist bone. Samuel attributed this to Suter’s regression into a cub, yet he could not help but feel a lingering sense of worry.

After waiting a while longer, Samuel began to lead Suter around to familiarize him with every room in their new home. The young male’s palm was warm and soft, his fingertips bearing thin calluses from years of holding a pen. Suter allowed himself to be led by the wrist, trailing a step behind Samuel.

When he saw Samuel eagerly pulling him toward the master bedroom, Suter let out a cold sneer in his heart: Is he finally going to reveal his true nature?

He watched Samuel’s movements in silence. This scene was far too familiar. In the orphanage, every late night, older females were led into certain rooms just like this. When they returned the next day, their bodies would be covered in crisscrossing scars, yet they still had to force a smile in front of the males to avoid even more brutal beatings. If anyone even thought of refusing a noble’s invitation, the caregivers would whip them with belts until they could not speak for three days.

Suter reached for his neck out of reflex. There should have been a metal ring engraved with a serial number there, equipped with micro-electrodes that could release high-voltage currents whenever a male was displeased. Every child in the orphanage wore one before leaving, even while bathing, so the facility could maintain absolute control over them.

But his hand met empty air, touching only a ridiculous strawberry that rose and fell gently with his breathing, like a vivid, external heart. Suter suddenly felt a strange wave of dizziness, as if a person who had walked in darkness for years had suddenly been pushed into the sunlight; even breathing felt a bit stinging.

Samuel was completely oblivious to Suter’s complex psychological struggle. Acting like a class leader taking a student on a field trip, he simply pushed open the bedroom door with the intent of taking a quick look. They stood together at the doorway, peering inside.

There was a double bed that looked very soft and a white freestanding wardrobe next to it. Inside, three sets of silk pajamas hung neatly on the left, several sets of cotton and linen loungewear were folded on the right, and the bottom drawer was thoughtfully stuffed with unopened underwear and socks. Clearly, the errand-bug had performed the task perfectly, even exceeding expectations.

Samuel picked up a set of new clothes that had not yet been unwrapped, the plastic packaging letting out a slight rustle in his palm. He kept an eye on Suter, who stood by the doorframe. Suter was currently tracing the strawberry pendant on his neck with his fingertips, a rare look of confusion flickering in his eyes, which had been tense since entering the new environment.

“You like it that much?”

Samuel tilted his head, his gaze falling on the neatly folded strawberry onesie at his feet. The small strawberries printed on the cotton fabric even had cute green stems. After a moment of hesitation, he added this outfit, which he had originally excluded, to the list of candidates.

“Both sizes seem just right.”

Samuel walked over to Suter and knelt down to measure the clothes against him. The cuff of a small shark onesie brushed lightly against Suter’s wrist as Samuel moved. He made a show of measuring both outfits while secretly peeping at the child’s dignified face, unable to imagine how this face, which had been cool and handsome since childhood, would look paired with a strawberry pattern.

He did not want to make the choice for the child. The only preference he knew of was “stolen” from the book, so he decided to give the choice to Suter. A child of this age already had their own aesthetic and liked being able to make their own decisions.

“We need to go to the supermarket to buy some things in a bit.”

Samuel held both outfits in his hands. The small shark had a large, grinning face, while the strawberry pattern was adorned with playful polka dots. Samuel secretly preferred the shark one, so he pointed it out specifically, showing the cartoon shark wearing a chef’s hat on the back. “Look at these two. Which one do you want to wear?”

Suter’s gaze drifted between the two outfits. Finally, he extended his index finger, his fingertip pausing a few centimeters from the fabric before pulling back.

“Is it for me to wear?”

“Yes.”

“I want this one, is that okay?” Suter pointed at the strawberry onesie.

Samuel nodded in agreement. In the time it took him to turn around and put the other outfit away, he heard a rustling sound behind him. When he turned back, Suter had already pulled the strawberry onesie tightly over his body.

Yes, he had pulled it right over the dirty, blood-stained clothes whose original color was no longer recognizable.

“Why did you put it on directly?” Samuel looked at the bulging figure with a mix of amusement and helplessness. The strawberry pattern was comically distorted over the child’s protruding belly. He reached out to help straighten it, but Suter instinctively sucked in his stomach and dodged the touch.

The young male sighed, choosing instead to lightly brush away non-existent dust from the child’s shoulder. Forget it, he thought, he can change after his bath tonight.

He took a comb and smoothed Suter’s hair, braiding it into two small pigtails. Finally, they were ready to head out. Passing the mirror in the foyer, Suter saw his reflection.

His short, silver-white hair was as soft as fresh snow, but several stubborn curls poked out from the back of his head. Samuel had tried to comb them down with a wet comb, but they still poked out. Even after being braided, they stuck outward. His dark green eyes were round and clear, looking like two emeralds soaked in spring water. His lashes were thick and long, fluttering like small fans when he blinked.

His height had shrunk to less than 1.2 meters, and his originally sturdy build was now short and round. Wrapped in the strawberry-patterned onesie, he looked like a ball. A section of a strawberry stem poked out from the back of the onesie, bobbing up and down as he walked. He looked like a ripe fruit hanging from a branch, ready to wobble and fall at any moment if the wind blew.

Suter had never seen himself look so ridiculous. He turned his gaze away in annoyance, but after a few breaths, he could not help peeping into the mirror again. He tried to maintain his usual cold and stern expression, but his reddening ear tips, exposed under the warm overhead light, looked like the tips of two ripe strawberries. It made him feel just as foolish as the male. He looked away, huffing.

As dusk deepened, the automatic doors of the supermarket swallowed and spat out bustling crowds of insects. Samuel hesitated for a moment at the cart area before finally swapping a small trolley for a large family-sized one. The metal wheels clicked crisply against the tiled floor, weaving into the light and cheerful background music of the store.

Samuel pushed the cart through the aisles while Suter followed quietly by his side. The fleece of the strawberry onesie fluttered slightly in the air-conditioned breeze, and the green stem on his backside swung back and forth exaggeratedly, like the tail of a happy puppy.

Halfway through, Suter tentatively reached out to take over the cart, but Samuel stopped him. Samuel reached out and pinched Suter’s cheek. “You are a patient right now. Look at this face; there is not even a bit of baby fat.”

Suter did not know what baby fat was.

Samuel let go and reached up to take all the remaining short ribs and lamb chops from the top shelf of the refrigerated section. The white mist from the freezer rolled over his wrists, making him look like a little deity with a magical space to Suter. Suter followed him closely, secretly and quietly putting back some of the extra short ribs. He kept all the lamb chops; he liked that flavor.

However, it was a bit much. A deity this young probably would not have much money.

While Samuel picked things up, Suter secretly tucked them back, but he could not make it too obvious. It was not long before the cart was full. Samuel then agreed to let Suter push a small trolley of his own. The two of them cleared the meat section before moving on to the seafood.

The glass tanks in the seafood area reflected shimmering light. Samuel held a pair of metal tongs, his posture looking quite intimidating as he squinted his eyes. Several tiger prawns suddenly jumped on the crushed ice, and Samuel caught them with quick reflexes.

Suter leaned against his trolley, his palm pressing against Samuel’s hanging clothes as he watched silently. After a moment, he spoke up: “I am very good at picking shrimp.”

Suter had put on his small hood at some point, his voice coming muffled from inside the strawberry hood.

“Mm, I do not need a little adult’s help just yet.” Samuel placed his hands on Suter’s shoulders and turned him around. The warm lights of the snack aisle were as inviting as a candy house from a fairy tale. “Go on,” his fingertips brushed the stray hairs at the nape of the little insect’s neck. “Take whatever you like.”

Suter walked into that halo of light, the strawberry pattern on the back of his onesie bunching together. He looked back frequently, seeing Samuel’s tongs accurately catching a mindless shrimp that had jumped up at the wrong time.

How pitiful but it looks so plump. Will it taste good?

He walked forward while looking back with every step. His remaining logic was still trying to resist stubbornly; he could feel the natural closeness and affection his eight-year-old self felt for Samuel. His logic as a soldier was still reminding him not to be fooled, that this was a conspiracy. Yet, despite being careful enough, he had still fallen into a trap of tenderness.

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