The Male Zerg Cub Doesn’t Want to Be the Cannon Fodder Top - Chapter 1

Muffled thunder rolled across the sky as dense strands of rain wove into fine threads, enveloping the city.

The Schmidt family’s fief planet was located on the frontier of the Insectoid Empire. Its main city was built around the magnificent residence of Count Schmidt. The drizzling rain cast a hazy, soft light over the high-tech city. Above the villas where nobles and high-ranking Males resided, light blue protective shields flickered to life, partitioning off the rain. However, the commoner areas and the Lower District, where single Females and Sub-Females congregated, were not so refined. The pitter-patter of the rain there held a different, more rugged charm.

On a street blurred by mist, a four-head-tall cub wearing a hooded cloak hopped and skipped through the filthy streets of the Lower District. He headed toward the city outskirts, deftly avoiding the thick puddles of grime.

“System, System, are you there?”

The cub, whose belly wobbled with every jump, called out softly. Despite his short, chubby limbs, he possessed an agility that defied his stature. His round, toddler-like frame dodged left and right. Remarkably, he failed to splash a single drop of sewage on himself. A civilian aircraft streaked across the sky; its roof lights caught the cub’s figure, illuminating his clean, smooth face.

He was a noble Male cub, one without any insectoid markings!

A Male cub, who should neither be in the Lower District nor left unattended, muttered to himself:

“System, I’ve gathered the latest info on our mission target. The First Legion, led by the Female Prince Eliotte, was defeated by the rebel army ‘Dawn.’ The entire army has retreated from the battlefield and is about to dock at the port of Count Schmidt’s planet, which is this very planet! Phew, I was just worrying about how to sneak into the Capital Star with this cub body to see Prince Eliotte, and now the target shows up on his own. This is pure luck!”

Indeed, this chubby little Male cub was a transmigrator. Maurice was originally a college student majoring in journalism. After being hit by a truck while saving someone, he was bound to a system claiming to be from the “Tribunal of Life” in the future. He transmigrated into the body of a Male cub who was unable to develop due to a disability, remaining stuck in a toddler-like form. His goal was to complete system missions to save the crumbling Insectoid civilization.

As a former 188cm-tall college student now confined to a tiny shell, Maurice had felt his fair share of frustration. But life is about give and take; he was lucky enough to survive the accident. Being a member of the most easy-going and principled demographic, college students, he readily accepted the System’s task.

“Mm.”

A cold, mechanical voice answered Maurice perfunctorily, causing the chubby cub to pout in dissatisfaction.

“System, why aren’t you being proactive? Don’t you have KPI pressure? In our journalism industry, there are no rest days! You have to be on the front lines every day with full energy. News waits for no one; to be late is to fail! I must contact the mission target, Prince Eliotte, as soon as possible to help him uncover the conspiracies and secrets behind the thousand-year rule of the Imperial family!”

The college student in a cub’s skin was so talkative that it baffled the System. It could not tell if this guy genuinely loved his job or was simply trying to annoy it. The System’s current hissed with irritation.

Is he sick in the head? the System thought. What kind of host demands their System work harder? He’s even more annoying than the ‘love-brain’ hosts I had before.

Maurice was the fourth host the System had contracted, codenamed 004. Based on its past experiences with humans, the System had lowered its expectations to the absolute minimum. After issuing the mission, it gave him one ironclad rule: whether the mission is successful or not, falling in love with the mission target is strictly forbidden.

You said you’re straight, right? If you’re straight, don’t date.

Maurice had agreed solemnly. His heart was set only on his career; he did not even know what love tasted like, let alone with Females or Sub-Females who looked no different from men. Unlike previous hosts, Maurice sincerely loved his mission: helping Prince Eliotte uncover the hidden truths to save their civilization.

To an ordinary person, this might be a chore, but to a journalism student, it was a once-in-a-lifetime scoop! Upon arriving, Maurice spent half a day learning about the world through the original body’s memories and the Imperial Star-Net. His first reaction was to gag until his eyes watered.

The Insectoid society was extremely deformed, a world of slavery and oppression. To a college student from a civilized society, it was absurd.

The Insectoids were divided into three genders: Males, Sub-Females, and Females. The sex ratio was vastly skewed. Males were incredibly rare, yet because they possessed the pheromones desired by the other two and “Psychic Tentacles” (referred to as Divine Power), they controlled almost all the power and wealth of the Empire. They had established a brutal rule spanning politics, religion, and law. Meanwhile, the majority, Females and Sub-Females, suffered as their slaves.

According to the “common sense” known by all, the creator of the race was the Insect Mother. She created the perfect Males. When the Males felt lonely, they used their power to create Sub-Females and Females; Sub-Females were for companionship and entertainment, and Females were for reproduction and slaughter.

In short, most believed that Males were the Sons of God, Sub-Females were toys created by the Sons of God, and Females were tools. They were all servants and vessels.

Beyond brainwashing, Male rule relied on two natural weapons: Pheromones and Psychic Power. The higher a Female’s or Sub-Female’s genetic grade, the faster they would develop “Male Pheromone Deficiency” upon reaching adulthood, a genetic disease that caused their bodies and mental seas to collapse. This terrifying illness could only be cured by a Male’s pheromone marking and psychic soothing. Consequently, those marked by Males relied entirely on their “mercy” to survive, losing their sense of self.

As fate would have it, Maurice transmigrated into a Male cub.

This was hard to swallow for a journalism student full of justice and ethics. His integrity would not allow him to comfortably be an oppressor, but the System’s mission provided a sense of purpose: find the truth and change this absurd world.

Maurice did not believe in the creation myths. He saw through the irrationality; the physiological and power systems between the genders were too different, and the fact that Females had genetic defects yet could reproduce with Males contradicted the principles of evolution. The pervasive brainwashing suggested that the Male’s iron-fisted rule was actually a bluff to cover a deeper weakness.

In short, this world was full of secrets, which was the ultimate motivation for an aspiring journalist.

Maurice was confident in himself. Back as a student, he had once infiltrated a pyramid scheme to find the truth, skipping class for half a semester until he was rescued by police and exposed the organization. He got into significant trouble and nearly faced expulsion, saved only by a kind professor.

But Maurice had no regrets. He would do anything for the truth. He and the System mission were a perfect match. The only difficulty was that his target was a noble Imperial Prince, while Maurice, though a rare Male cub, was an abandoned child of nobility and an undocumented illegal in the Empire.

Abandoning a Male cub was a phenomenon in a world that prized Males above all else. Because they were so rare, even though Males often took hundreds of concubines, only a few eggs would ever be laid. The infant mortality and disability rates for Males were high; having a fully developed heir was a major boast. Imperial law protected Male cubs without limits, and even disabled ones were usually pampered.

Yet Maurice was the exception. Besides his stunted growth, he had a feature different from other Insectoids: his skin was light gray.

In the Empire, gray skin was a symbol of desecrating the Mother Goddess, a sign of being cursed.

Because of this, the original host was discarded by Count Schmidt in a hunting estate on this fief planet, half-raised and half-imprisoned, unknown to the world. When Maurice took over, he decisively left.

To be honest, Maurice did not hate his skin color; he was actually grateful for it. He did not worship the Mother Goddess anyway. Because of his skin, the original host never enjoyed the privileges of a Male, meaning he never had the chance to beat, insult, or kill Females like other noble Males. He had not transmigrated into a murderer.

Thank God, Maurice thought as he rushed toward the outskirts. He had entered the city to trade for supplies and gather intel. Today’s harvest was good; in the chaotic black market of the Lower District, he learned the defeated First Legion was about to dock.

The defeated commander of the First Legion was his mission target, Eliotte, a high-born and noble Female Prince. Truthfully, Maurice was good at gathering info, but he had no idea how to approach a Prince. He continued to bug the System:

“System, do you have any detailed info on the target? How should I approach him? I’m a college student, help me out with some more data.”

“No way,” the System replied, annoyed. “Blame your predecessors for ruining it for you. They coaxed info out of me saying it was for the mission, but it was all for their romances! Now it’s your turn, and you get three words: No comment.”

Once, the System had been naive and sincere, answering every question. But what happened? Those hosts used sweet talk to trick the System, only to fall in love with the targets and work against the System’s interests.

Now, the System was incredibly guarded.

The Male cub failed to get more info, so he pouted and ducked into the dense forest on the city outskirts. The forest belonged to Count Schmidt’s hunting grounds, a vast area where the chubby cub could vanish like a drop of water in the ocean.

After leaving the manor, the cub had been roaming between the woods and the city, using his Psychic Tentacles and a college student’s savage survival instincts to hunt prey, which he traded for information and resources. This prey technically belonged to the Count, but Maurice did not care about the losses incurred by his deadbeat biological father.

Despite his disdain for his toddler body, Maurice had to admit that the Psychic Tentacles were incredibly useful. Combining detection, self-defense, and hunting, they were a power unlike anything he’d ever seen. No wonder the Males of this world claimed they held “Divine Power.”

Relying on these tentacles, the chubby cub walked through the forest with ease, even catching a wild deer for dinner. Just as he approached the wooden cabin where he was temporarily staying, his Psychic Tentacles suddenly detected an intruder.

A Female with his head bowed and face obscured was leaning against a thick oak tree. He wore an Imperial military uniform, so stained with blood its original color was unrecognizable, yet the sharp silhouette of the garment remained. His black hair, curled like seaweed, cascaded down his shoulders. His exposed neck was as white as jade, and upon it sat a black collar that carried a heavy sense of private ownership.

Maurice froze, his breathing slowing down instinctively.

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