Being the Wife of a Fluffy Creature [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The First World (1)

Wu Yao had started a new job today. Having finally escaped the days of being a henchman to a villain, he was in exceptionally high spirits.

The new system assigned to him by headquarters was a bright, colorful yellow light orb, which was currently helping him get familiar with the job.

“Your main mission is to protect your ‘little animal.’ During the process, side quests will be randomly issued. Completing these tasks earns you points, and the target’s status will also affect your points. Simply put, the happier it lives, the more you earn.”

Wu Yao was an old pro at this. He didn’t just know the basics; he knew how to make extra money on the side.

He hummed a tune, smoothing his hair in front of the mirror, ready to embrace a wonderful new life.

Seeing that the host had no objections, the system put away the files, “I am very happy to cooperate with you, Mr. Wu. Our first task, ‘A Dream in the Yellow Millet,’ is about to begin. Welcome to the new world—Heaven Island.”

Heaven Island was surrounded by turquoise waters, featuring a pleasant climate and beautiful scenery. There was a small town on the island with a permanent population of less than 30,000.

It was late August, the hottest few days of the year on Heaven Island. Uncle Wang, the apartment caretaker, puffed and panted as he climbed seven flights of stairs, carrying a newly bought bone-chopping cleaver to knock on the door of Room 703.

“Xiao Yao, it’s Uncle Wang! I brought you the bone-chopping cleaver you asked me to buy!”

He paused, pressing his ear against the security door to listen for movement. It was deathly quiet inside; he couldn’t even hear footsteps.

“Xiao Yao, is your toilet still clogged? Do you still need me to fix it?”

Uncle Wang wiped his sweat and waited for two minutes before the door slowly opened. A long-haired man wearing black-rimmed glasses greeted him with a brilliant smile.

The man had just finished a shower; a white bathrobe wrapped around his slender frame, and the calves exposed were fair and smooth. His half-dried long hair was gathered in front of his chest, covering the loose neckline, and his swan-like neck looked almost luminous against the dark hair.

The man was very beautiful; Uncle Wang was momentarily stunned.

Wu Yao was also assessing the caretaker in front of him.

Over fifty, around 1.7 meters tall, slightly chubby. He looked simple and kind, with no hint of aggression.

Except for that bone-chopping cleaver in his hand…

When did he ask the man to buy that? He had no idea.

Wu Yao had transmigrated exactly ten minutes ago. While the system was introducing the world, he had been looking for the mission target.

His identity in this world was forged by the system; currently, he was an orphan who had just graduated from university and moved to Heaven Island to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

Perhaps because the apartment was too old, the moment Wu Yao arrived, he smelled a faint stench. It was on the bed, on the floor, and even on himself—it was horribly unpleasant.

Before the system could issue any tasks, he had hurried to take a shower. The shampoo and body wash barely covered the smell on his body; it was a mix of fragrance and stench.

“Wu Yao?”

Uncle Wang called his name, his eyes looking strange, as if looking at some rare species. Wu Yao suspected he could smell the strange odor on him.

Wu Yao gave an awkward smile.

The caretaker withdrew his gaze and handed over the cleaver. “Does your toilet still need fixing?”

“No need, thank you, Uncle.”

The man didn’t try to force his way in; he chatted with Wu Yao for a few sentences before heading back downstairs.

Wu Yao locked the door and looked down at his phone.

The system’s voice echoed in his mind, “That scared me. When I saw him bringing a knife to the door, I thought he was going to chop you up.”

To make it easier for Wu Yao to blend in, the system forged a blank-slate identity for him. No job, no friends or family. On his messaging apps, aside from a few recruiters, the only contact was “Caretaker.”

According to the records, he really had asked Uncle Wang to buy the knife—but that was before he had even transmigrated.

As he blow-dried his hair, Wu Yao asked the system, ‘What is going on with this?’

“I don’t know, I didn’t arrange it. Maybe it’s an automatic detail filled in to make your identity seem more authentic.”

Wu Yao didn’t believe it, but he didn’t refute it either.

His previous system was a black-hearted one that didn’t pay him and forced him to work 007 (9am-9pm, 7 days a week). If he slacked off, it would electrocute him. Wu Yao had almost been shocked into a psychopath.

He suffered from “System Phobia.” Even if his new partner seemed friendly, he didn’t want to engage in too much communication.

The cleaver incident served as a wake-up call for the system. It looked through the files, “Our department is newly established. Currently, it’s just you and me—one person and one system. The workload will be relatively high, and it’s very easy to encounter high-difficulty worlds. You need to be mentally prepared.”

‘What does that mean? Is there a probability I’ll be chased and hacked to death during the mission?’

“Yes, but the harder the world, the more you earn.”

Hearing there was money to be made, Wu Yao’s eyes brightened.

Ever since he discovered that interacting with key plot characters had a chance to unlock side quests and earn more points, he had been a loyal dog to villains on the surface, a life coach to protagonists in private, and occasionally moonlighted as the “White Moonlight” for supporting characters.

How hard could raising a cat or dog be compared to being an undercover agent next to a villain? Impossible.

Wu Yao’s first mission target was a full-grown male fighting dog with pitch-black fur.

This was a dog with terrible luck.

At first, it was a stray dog that nobody cared about. Three years ago, it was adopted by a gambler and became his loyal “tool dog.”

At the beginning, the gambler had no connections, so the two of them just lived off of scavenging trash.

One day, through an introduction, the gambler learned about the existence of fighting dog matches and began making his large dog compete for money.

The black dog won nearly a hundred matches of various sizes for the gambler, but all the money earned was squandered away by the man.

The gambler, in a bad mood, beat the black dog while it was preparing for a match. The dog was in poor condition and lost the latest bout.

The black dog broke a leg during the match, and its fighting prowess plummeted. The gambler decided to squeeze out the last bit of its value and sold it to a hotpot restaurant.

Now, Wu Yao had to fish it out before it was turned into hotpot.

‘The files are incomplete. What is the target’s name? Since it’s a fighting dog, it must have a high-sounding name. Also, its history before adoption, what breed it is—these are all important.’

Wu Yao closed his eyes to rest in the taxi. He had paid well, so the driver was speeding; they would be at the hotpot restaurant in four or five minutes.

The gambler was likely still haggling with the boss; there was plenty of time, so no need to worry.

“The gambler did give it many names, like “Big Black Sky” or “General Black,” but the black dog doesn’t acknowledge them. We will prioritize the target’s preference.”

“As for its past and breed… I don’t know either, the data is missing.”

Wu Yao, who had been slouching in the passenger seat, suddenly sat bolt upright.

“Data missing” meant he needed to complete the files, that meant unlocking side quests, and that meant money!

Just as Wu Yao expected, when he arrived at the hotpot restaurant, the gambler and the boss were still battling.

The “Dragon and Tiger Hotpot Restaurant” only had a grand name; it was actually just two floors. There weren’t many waiters, and they were all squatting by the entrance watching the show.

The middle-aged boss wore plain clothes and didn’t look wealthy.

The gambler looked even more destitute; the shoes on his feet had holes in them, and he was currently spitting as he bragged about his dog.

“This is a fighting dog! It’s won nearly a hundred matches! How can you give me the same price as meat-dogs?!”

“What’s the use of being able to fight? Once chopped up, it’s all the same. Does it still fight in the customer’s mouth?”

“Tsk, if it weren’t for the broken leg, I wouldn’t be selling it!”

Beside the gambler’s holey shoes sat a rusty iron cage, with a large black dog curled up inside taking a nap.

Wu Yao stood in front of the cage to look closely. The black dog’s right hind leg was twisted in a distorted posture—it was clearly broken. This was the little “unlucky one” he was looking for.

The target’s fur was smooth and shiny, its nose wet, its breathing steady, and its ears and eyes were clean.

He could faintly smell an odor—it was somewhat similar to the smell on Wu Yao’s body, yet slightly different.

Overall, the dog looked very healthy.

According to the data provided by the system, after the black dog lost its value, the gambler disliked it and beat it twice every three days. Wu Yao had already prepared to take the dog to a pet hospital, but he hadn’t expected it to be in such good condition.

The system looked at the dog and then at the files, its gaze even more bewildered than Wu Yao’s, “This shouldn’t be—it’s not scientific. Did I get it wrong again?”

Wu Yao made a kissing sound to get its attention, but the black dog didn’t react, sleeping soundly.

The boss and the gambler were arguing so heatedly they didn’t notice the extra person. Wu Yao wasn’t afraid of being bitten; he stuck his hand directly into the cage and patted the black dog’s head.

This wasn’t an ordinary dog; it was his gold nugget.

The black dog was petted awake and opened its eyes a slit.

The moment it saw Wu Yao, the black dog’s fierce eyes became clear. It licked Wu Yao’s fingers, its demeanor gentle and affectionate.

Wu Yao curled his lips. ‘System, I’m actually quite popular with dogs.’

Suddenly, the black dog changed its expression and bit him hard. Wu Yao was fast enough to pull his hand back, barely avoiding losing a finger.

The system laughed twice, “You smell like meat, of course you’re popular with dogs.”

Wu Yao rubbed his fingers, looking suspiciously at the big dog.

Are dogs this moody?

Wu Yao had asked the taxi driver—the cost of living on the island wasn’t high, a dog would cost at most two or three thousand.

His “blank-slate” identity had some savings, and if he gritted his teeth, he could afford it.

Wu Yao leaned in, just about to speak, when he heard the hotpot boss roar, “Ten thousand for a dog?! Why don’t you go rob someone!”

“Don’t you know your stuff? This is a fighting dog! A fighting dog!”

The gambler looked around and his gaze lingered on Wu Yao’s face for a moment. Determining that this was just a passerby “pretty boy,” the gambler looked away.

“This is a fighting dog; you should know the value. A registered fighting dog is different from other dogs even when minced. I only came to sell to you because I know you have an eye for quality; otherwise, I wouldn’t have traveled so far.”

The boss looked at the gambler and then at the dog; his expression suddenly changed. “How did you…”

He didn’t continue. The two reached an agreement instantly, handing over money and the dog on the street.

Wu Yao watched the whole process, slowly narrowing his eyes.

Something was wrong. Both the man and the dog were “wrong.”