Being the Wife of a Fluffy Creature [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The First World (7)

The black dog had a long, chaotic dream. In the dream, a group of people stormed into the Mayor’s office and started arguing with him. The scene shifted: the gambler was taking it to participate in a fighting dog match.

It stood under a spotlight in a pitch-black arena, hearing only the excited shouts of the crowd.

“Kill it!”

“Show it what you’ve got, General Black! Kill it!!!”

It looked around, but didn’t see a dog. On the stage, other than itself, there was only a middle-school boy in a school uniform. His clothes were tattered, and he stood trembling in place.

A bell rang. The black dog walked to the center of the arena, following protocol, and stripped off its trench coat to reveal a tight black vest and solid muscles. The referee dragged the child to the center and forcibly tore off his uniform, revealing nothing underneath. The black dog had never encountered such a match; its previous opponents had been fighting dogs of similar size, or even more robust.

The roar from the darkness grew louder as the audience shouted in excitement. The child cried and tried to flee, but the referee held him down firmly. Some people in the town couldn’t distinguish between fighting dogs and ordinary dogs, while others couldn’t distinguish between fighting dogs and humans. There were always those who tossed ordinary people or normal dogs into the matches, and those who were wrongly sent usually met a grisly end.

Even if it refused to hurt the child and voluntarily forfeited, they would just find another fighting dog.

The match officially began. The referee shoved a knife into the child’s hand and pushed him into the black dog’s arms. At this distance, the boy could stab it to death, and it could snap his neck. The black dog shielded the boy, trying to explain to the referee that this was a misunderstanding—he was a human, not a fighting dog, and unlike itself, he had human rights. But no matter how hard it tried, it could only produce low, woofing growls.

The dream became increasingly chaotic. The black dog dreamt of eleven people running toward it, desperately reaching out for help—it had no idea who they were. Then it dreamt that the child who was shivering in its arms just moments ago had been gutted. It was held down by invisible forces, its front paws stained with blood.

“Let us enjoy the final carnival! A toast to death, a song to destruction! Long live freedom! Long live Heaven Island!”

“Noah! What exactly are you trying to do?!”

“This is not what we agreed upon! You’ve violated the instructions! Noah!”

“Noah, you coward! Traitor!!!”

The wailing and laughter circled its ears, eventually morphing into the gambler’s roar: “You have a registration number, why are you so useless?! I spend money to feed you, and you lose so badly you even broke your leg!”

A wine bottle smashed toward it again. The black dog had just come off the stage and had no strength to dodge. It closed its eyes, waiting for the impact, but the imagined agonizing pain never came. Instead, it felt a soft, warm touch on its head, and a gentle voice whispered in its ear:

“Poor thing, why are you still shivering in your sleep? Don’t be afraid. You’re safe now.”

The black dog struggled to get up to see the speaker, but it was too weak to open its eyes. The noise outside grew increasingly rowdy, as if countless monsters were roaming the periphery. The long-haired man was speaking, though it couldn’t hear clearly. A particularly shrill, miserable scream pierced the air: “Murder… call the police…”

When it woke up again, its trench coat had been taken off, and its vest was pulled up to its chest. The man was lying on his side next to it, his palm gently stroking its neck, his breath brushing against its earlobe. The gambler had touched its head roughly, but this man’s touch was meticulous, as if he were caressing a priceless treasure.

Even with its eyes closed, it could feel his intense gaze, like a starving man staring at a delicious piece of meat. He was too handsome; having that face so close made it feel self-conscious. The black dog pressed its lips together and turned its head to peer curiously at the person beside it. The long-haired man gazed at it with peach-blossom eyes, his adoration almost overflowing.

Does he really like dogs? That’s right; he had told the police he was an animal lover.

Wu Yao rested his chin on his hand, his brows slightly arched. “You’re finally awake. I was so worried about you. How does your body feel? Any discomfort?”

The man shook his head, expressionless. Wu Yao pointed to himself. “My name is Wu Yao—’Wu’ for ‘nothingness,’ ‘Yao’ for ‘out of reach.'”

The system was stunned: “Wow, that’s how you introduce yourself?”

The props the little light-orb provided were useful, and the orb didn’t seem malicious. Wu Yao’s opinion of it had shifted, and his attitude toward it was much better.

‘Hush, be quiet. I want to see if its intelligence is human or canine.’

The man in the trench coat gave him a suspicious look. “Woof? Wuu-wuu-woof…”

The system didn’t understand: “What is he “dog-barking” about?”

‘He’s probably explaining the meaning of the two idioms, telling me that using them is a bad omen.’

“?!”

Wu Yao had a hunch now. The fighting dog didn’t just look like a human—it understood human speech, recognized idioms, and had human-like cognitive pathways. This was clearly someone who had grown up in human society. The possibility of randomly picking a dog from a pile and turning it into a “dog-man” could be completely ruled out.

After hearing his explanation, the system pondered: “You mean, someone turned a perfectly fine handsome guy into a handsome dog-man and convinced him he really is a dog?”

Wu Yao nodded. The system shivered violently.

After introducing himself, Wu Yao pointed at the man. “I pulled you out of the hotpot shop. I saved your life, so you’re my dog now. From now on, you’re called Wu Shiyi. Remember that?”

He held up a piece of white paper with the name written on it. The man looked at it carefully, his brow relaxing as if satisfied with the name. Just as Wu Yao was about to enter the name into the system backend, the man suddenly gave him a faint smile. “Woof.”

Wu Yao stared, stunned, subconsciously sitting up straight. The man was handsome, resolute, and full of masculine vigor, usually looking like a stern, solemn statue of a war god. But when he smiled, he looked like a superhero from a comic book consoling a victim. Wu Yao felt fortunate that he didn’t look like that—his acting range was too narrow; he’d have no qualifications to be a henchman for a villain.

As soon as a man like that appeared, a drug-lord villain would shout, ‘Holy crap, it’s a cop! Run!’

The system looked at the man’s pectoral muscles, then at his face. “Such an upright face, such a sturdy build—a real ‘gentleman’ aesthetic. A man like this turning perverted for love, that’s the good stuff!”

“Go for it! Go have a romance with the target and give me some ‘sugar’ to consume. When the mission ends, I’ll go to the “Transmigrator Protection Association” and file a mental damage claim for you. Let’s scam the company and split the money!”

Wu Yao: …

They are truly insane. Scam the company? How does it dare?

As time passed, the “deep contact” gradually faded back into “light contact.” The room in Wu Yao’s vision returned to being neat and cozy, and the man shifted back into a black dog bit by bit. A pair of dog ears popped up on his head, and his big tail wagged occasionally.

Wu Yao remembered the black dog’s habit of licking people—that was not a good thing. He cupped the man’s face in both hands and leaned in to close the distance. Wu Shiyi was startled, pulling his head back, his rugged brows knitting together. Just as Wu Yao’s lips were about to touch his face, the man raised a hand to block him, pushing him away while growling at Wu Yao like a provoked dog.

The system watched the whole thing, holding a “kidney” in its hand: “You were trying to force a kiss? I said ‘go have a romance’ not ‘go sexually harass him.’ If you keep groping a patient, I’m going to throw this kidney at you.”

Having achieved his desired result, Wu Yao pulled back with satisfaction. ‘If he hadn’t dodged, I would have avoided it anyway. I just wanted to confirm in advance how “dog-like” he really is.’

‘Whether he’ll jump on me, pin me to the ground, and lick my face and mouth. Whether he can take care of himself—will he pee everywhere when I walk him like other dogs? Do I have to shovel his poop, wipe his but—’

“Don’t talk about these things while pointing at a grown man. When the contact time passes and he turns back into a dog, you can talk about these pet-care problems then!”

‘You’re mistaken about one thing: what changes is only the world in my eyes, not the world itself. The black dog has always been a human; it’s just that we can only see a dog.’

“Ah…”

After rummaging through the room, Wu Yao kicked the trash can at his feet. ‘Bad news: I couldn’t find the Truth Society card; the monster controller took it. Time was too tight earlier, so I didn’t get to see what was on it.’

“Doesn’t matter, I have good news.”

‘You read the card?’

“No, but I have an automatic “poop-scooping” machine; just tried it, and it still works. If you say “Thank you, Daddy,” I’ll lend it to you to raise your dog.”

Wu Yao: …

Could it be that the system hadn’t realized that aside from being unable to speak and having some issues with its cognition, Wu Shiyi was in every other way identical to a human?

Why a perfectly good, handsome guy would turn into a dog and what secrets Heaven Island was hiding were not things Wu Yao was curious about. The controller behind the monsters had been monitoring the whole town. Now that he had adopted the fighting dog, he was likely on the high-priority watch list. If Wu Yao did anything to threaten the town’s peace and stability, the monsters would come knocking.

Those ghosts were mostly equivalent in combat power to ordinary humans, with only a few possessing special skills. Not difficult to deal with, but there were a ridiculously large number of them. Besides, the controller was likely the owner of the town. Since he managed the whole place, Wu Yao didn’t want to clash with someone like that.

The world difficulty was too high, so he decided to play it safe. No side quests, no main plot. Focus on raising the dog, get the stats up, then take the money and run.

The system asked curiously: “And what about Wu Shiyi?”

‘After you get off work, do you still worry about the files you left at the office?’

“Files are dead, but he’s alive. Without a master, Wu Shiyi will die, won’t he?”

Wu Yao paused, then turned to look. The contact time had completely ended, and he couldn’t see the man in the trench coat anymore. In his vision, there was only a black dog, tilting its head and lying on the bed, deep in thought. Catching Wu Yao’s gaze, the black dog let out a soft wuu and wagged its tail slightly, as if thanking him.

“Data Updated”

“Mission Target: Black Dog”

“Name: Wu Shiyi (You respect the dog, the dog likes the new name)”

“Health: 20 (Rapidly recovering)”

“Spirit: 6 (Living is okay, dying is also fine)”

“Total Score: 28 (Keep it up, wage slave)”