The Male Zerg Cub Doesn’t Want to Be the Cannon Fodder Top - Chapter 18

“System, are you alright? For us humans, excessive emotional swings are bad for your health. Calm down, calm down,” the college student said with a placating grin. As a twenty-first-century Earthling and a total tech novice, he still did not know how future technology had made a system so emotional, but Maurice remained kind-hearted.

“Do not worry. Although there have been a few hiccups in the mission, I am still on the right path! Look, I found Eliotte. Once I have treated him and resolved the little troubles between us caused by my lies and force majeure, we can be of one heart and mind, marching forward hand in hand.”

“Uh, I do not mean one heart and mind in a physiological sense! I mean on a pure, spiritual level! Revolutionary friendship! At that time, we will uncover the truth together, dismantle the Insect Emperor’s conspiracy, and live happily ever after. And again, no physiological exchange. I am not gay, System, believe me!”

“Pah!” The system sounded as if it had spat right into Maurice’s mental sea. The cub shuddered in disgust, but a sudden wave of guilt kept him sycophantic, like a student who had skipped class only to run into their supervisor.

“My mission has also made significant progress! I know that to help Eliotte discover and expose the truth, a platform with views and a loyal audience is crucial. Previously, because my networking skills were limited, my articles and posts were constantly scrubbed by Skynet. But after making contact with the rebel captain, Ilya, I found a backdoor into Skynet and set up a mobile station. From now on, my articles will drift through the Empire’s Skynet like ghosts, as hard to kill as cockroaches! Hahahaha!”

“So, what exactly is there to be proud of in becoming a cockroach?” The system’s non-existent veins throbbed again, but Maurice had successfully diverted its attention. It stopped pressing him for his sins of tampering with the timeline, allowing Maurice to breathe a small sigh of relief.

“You do not understand, System! This is a great start! Previously, my righteous articles were suppressed and had a limited reach. But now, I have abandoned the orthodox path and become a glorious clickbait specialist, a dark cultivator of the journalism world. Look!”

Maurice linked his mental power to the system, shoving a massive headline in its face. On a flamboyant, clearly disreputable pink website, the words “Gossip Tabloid” hung in the center. The top headline was a report on today’s events involving star beasts assaulting several male insects on the border planet.

The headline read: “The Most Scandalous Orgy in History? Uncovering the Mystery of Why the Lords Avoid Wives and Concubines. Pretty-Faced Young Males Drained by Dozens of Star Beasts, Screaming Repeatedly!!”

Under this incredibly vulgar, fabricated headline, an article written even before the event occurred had bravely become the first report on the debauchery, if not the only report on the scandal. Accompanied by hot new photos and videos, it rapidly became one of the top ten most-viewed news items on the network. In the comments section, anonymous insects attracted by the explosive title were already tearing into each other, creating a storm of insults. Behind the scenes, the male cub who had exclusively crafted this news sighed with pride.

“I specifically chose the center-stage camera angle for my cheap male father, Count Schmidt. Since he wanted to force Eliotte, he should taste that sensation for himself first.”

The regulatory departments of Skynet were clearly incensed, desperately trying to surround and suppress this slanderous article. However, when Maurice established the gossip station, he followed Ilya’s advice and wove his male mental power into the network programming. Maurice’s mental power possessed distinct chaotic traits, like an unobservable, unapproachable cosmic storm. This made the website, already parasitic to a backdoor, even more elusive, causing significant losses to Skynet’s auditing programs.

“Creating news and manufacturing gimmicks, this violates your professional ethics.”

The system’s piercing words caused the cub to fall silent briefly. But soon, the resilient nature of the college student reasserted itself. He stood with Eliotte at a tavern with a low, dark entrance. Nimbly, he wiggled his chubby bottom and climbed up Eliotte’s long legs onto his shoulder, using a mechanical mask to cover the upper half of Eliotte’s face.

“Yes, it violates professional ethics. But professional ethics are not as important as him.” The cub pressed his fleshy cheek against Eliotte’s cold face, his emerald eyes watching him without blinking. It was obvious who the “him” in his words referred to.

The system’s anger was bottled up in its programming. “And you still say you are not gay! No principles, no bottom line, no credit! Just you wait. I hope you stay a cub your whole life and stay impotent forever! Let’s see what you do then!”

“Hmph.” Maurice ignored the fuming system, knowing well that there was nothing to say to a system that saw the world through rainbow filters. This system either had poor discernment or an overactive ability to generalize. Just because its previous hosts were gay and fell in love with their mission targets did not mean it had to view him through prejudiced eyes. That was far too arbitrary.

The chubby cub, perfectly certain of his own orientation, let out a sigh and pulled the still-dazed Eliotte into the tavern. The Insect Empire strictly forbade females and sub-females from participating in banquets and other activities reserved for males. However, in the underground black market, such considerations were often ignored. Every society, no matter how perfect, has marginalized people on the fringes. Politely, they are called divergents. Impolitely, they are witches who should be burned at the stake.

In the already deformed and oppressive insect society, heresy was even more rampant. Under the weight of power, most heresies were wiped out by the righteous Children of God and their servants, yet countless marginalized lives still hid in dark corners, struggling to survive. This tavern was the first gathering place for heretics Maurice had discovered after transmigrating. This was a place where the Empire’s glory did not shine. In other words, everyone here was Maurice’s kind, as he never intended to join this absurd insect society anyway.

Though the sun was high in the main city, the tavern remained strikingly dark. All the customers were like dim, gray shadows blending into the background, their voices noisy yet indistinct. A smell of industrial alcohol mixed with a foul stench hit them, waking Eliotte from his scattered consciousness. He instinctively took a defensive stance, his golden eyes beneath the mask staring fixedly at those strange shadows in the dark. He bent down, wanting to shield the cub, but the cub gently patted the back of his hand. To his astonishment, the cub pulled back his hood, completely exposing his soft, light-gray skin.

Eliotte’s expression changed. He was about to cover the cub back up when a coarse voice came from the long bar counter.

“Fatty? You finally showed up. Nick bet ten nutrient solutions with me that you had been torn apart by star beasts.”

Maurice’s light-gray face turned a shade of dark gray. He shot a quick glance at Eliotte before turning to glare at the middle-aged female working at the bar with a fierce, milky look.

“Phinis, I told you, do not call me Fatty!”

“Tsk, quite the temper you have developed,” the gray-haired female said dismissively, setting down a battered wine glass. “You brought a new face. Fatty, he had better be trustworthy. Things are not peaceful on the planet lately. First the street fighting in Snake Vine Alley, then the farce on the Central Avenue. Haha, though to be fair, the latter was quite the grand event.”

The gray-haired female slammed the glass onto the grimy bar. On the light screen rising behind the counter, footage began to play of those male insects in their wretched states on Central Avenue. Instantly, screams and unsightly sounds filled the air, and the various guests hidden in the darkness, who had been wary of each other, burst into strange, sharp jeers. They were mocking those males, and perhaps the glamorous law enforcement teams on the planet. The intense malice and resentment caused Eliotte’s skin to break out in goosebumps. He looked up, the light from the screen illuminating Phinis’s face, causing Eliotte to catch his breath instantly.

A bizarre yet deep scar ran across Phinis’s face like a winding centipede, carving a line between light and shadow. Strangely, half of the skin of the female named Phinis was the color of Imperial insects, while the other half was gray. Just like the cub.

Eliotte suddenly realized something. He bent down, wanting to pick up the cub who was huffing over the nickname “Fatty,” but he heard Phinis shout loudly, “Hey, newcomer! What are you drinking? Let us get one thing straight. Everyone here is a desperate criminal. Except for Fatty, everyone has dozens of felonies on their back and would not blink at the sight of blood. The rule is, nobody meddles in anyone else’s business, understand?”

Phinis spoke gruffly, spraying spit heavy with the smell of tobacco. Despite asking Eliotte what he wanted to drink, he poured a glass of murky, unidentified liquid on his own and shoved it roughly toward Eliotte. The splashing liquid nearly hit Eliotte’s clean jaw.

“Drink! For Fatty’s sake. Today truly is a good day. Haha! Those male swine, wetting themselves while being forced by star beasts, that was really something!”

In Eliotte’s life, he had never seen such unvarnished, blunt rudeness. The smell of mixed odors hit his nose directly, and the liquid before him was the most incomprehensible thing he had ever seen. The male performance playing on the screen behind the bar had attracted a large number of customers. They emerged from the darkness, huddling around the bar, shoulder to shoulder, leaving Eliotte at a total loss.

All of this was chaotic, filthy, and grotesque, yet there was no murderous intent or hidden traps, leaving Eliotte with no desire to attack. Maurice argued with Phinis for a few moments before nimbly climbing onto Eliotte’s body, whispering a defense.

“Do not listen to Phinis, he is just a vulgar drunk! It is not all star pirates and wanted criminals here. Actually, there are many Fallen Species hybrids like me. Phinis is one. That one-armed Old Crow was once harmed by genetic experiments in the underground city, merged with star beast genes. York, next to him, is a Fallen Species who smuggled himself into the Empire. The Empire almost slaughtered all of his clansmen, so he refuses to speak and does not trust Imperial insects. He runs a business selling potions he brews himself.”

The cub babbled on about the information he had gathered. Eliotte held him tightly, and after a long while, he reproached him in a low voice.

“You should not have come here. You are a physically weak cub, you need the protection of an adult insect.”

His heartbeat pulsed through his clothes against the cub’s fat chest, making the cub’s cheeks flush involuntarily. No matter how long he spent with Eliotte, he still was not used to that perpetually elegant, gentle voice and that innate noble aura. He looked more like a Child of God than any male.

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