Chapter 25: Can The Store Owner Have So Many Spiritual Plants?
The search rankings were ascending at a vertical velocity that completely defied statistical logic. It was a textbook algorithmic assault.
Zhong Huihui flagged the anomaly instantly, her face tightening as she focused on her console. “Shopkeeper, look at these parameters!”
“The trending topics are drawing a hard line between our living inventory and the machine doctrine. This is an explicit, targeted public relations smear campaign.”
“The entry is scaling the charts too fast, but the comment footprints are just repeating identical phrases on a loop. It’s completely artificial engagement.”
“A competitor has poured massive capital into buying sponsored slots and deploying a professional troll syndicate to systematically ruin our reputation!”
Su Wudeng pondered the problem. Xiaowei and her boyfriend had already been processed by enforcement officials hours ago. So who was funding the trolls now?
She pulled up the live comment feed beneath the trending slots to scan the engagement. A relentless wave of hostile accounts was actively disparaging her inventory:
“So what if a Snow Crystal Cat looks cute? Can it deploy heavy ordinance to clear a Zerg breach? Absolutely not!”
“Don’t let these fragile aesthetics blind your judgment. Interstellar society requires high-powered mechanical armor, not useless sentiments!”
“Pet Love Home is just exploiting parasocial fan culture to hijack public bandwidth and drain public resources!”
…
“The narrative is hyper-focused on framing mechanical beasts as the sole solution to the crisis,” Su Wudeng analyzed coldly, her voice calm. “The mechanical pet cartels have officially lost their composure.”
The parameters of the smear campaign were blindingly obvious—every single thread was engineered to devalue living animals.
Zhong Huihui caught on, her fists clenching with intense indignation. “They’ve crossed the line. They’re actually weaponizing the Zerg War to manipulate public terror.”
“They’re hiding behind the moral high ground of the war effort to line their pockets.”
“But these are two completely distinct paradigms! Heavy-duty mechanical beasts are engineered for industrial warfare, but our animals aren’t bred to act as frontline meat shields against a Zerg swarm!”
“What’s our next move, Shopkeeper? If we allow this funded narrative to keep compounding, it’s going to cause a massive bottleneck for our brand!”
The dealership cartels had calculated their strike with terrifying precision. The exact microsecond the sponsored entries claimed the top slots, millions of neutral netizens who lacked context and hadn’t watched the live broadcast were pulled straight into the wave. They began aggressively validating the machine doctrine without a second thought. In the dystopian reality of the era, the elite tamers holding the defensive lines were exclusively bound to mechanical beasts. It was an immutable, historical fact.
Compared against a multi-million-credit war machine, what strategic utility did a fragile living animal possess?
“Should we draft an official corporate announcement?” Zhong Huihui suggested rapidly. “Something neutral, stating that our shop fully supports the mechanical beast industry, and begging the public not to pit the two paradigms against each other?”
From a conventional public relations standpoint, it was a solid compromise. It validated both the synthetic machines and the living inventory, granting the cartels a graceful exit. If they played that card, the corporate stakeholders would likely back off, and the public dispute would dissolve.
But Su Wudeng hesitated. Her animals weren’t just cute lapcats; they were contract-capable companion beasts possessing limitless evolutionary potential. If she issued a public concession now, she would be hard-coding a permanent psychological ceiling onto her brand, bottlenecking her future rollout.
Should I release the data on the husky puppies ahead of schedule to silence them?
Before she could finalize the strategy, the live data feeds experienced a violent, unpredictable mutation.
Zhong Huihui stared at the real-time comment streams flashing across her console, her jaw dropping. She practically stammered, “Sh-Shopkeeper… look at the chat! Someone is aggressively breaking their formation!”
A massive, terrifyingly fierce counter-offensive had just detonated within the comment sections, systematically obliterating the funded troll threads one by one:
“Pure unadulterated crap! You blockheads don’t know a damn thing about biology!”
“Sentiments are useless? If you love cold efficiency that much, why don’t you replace your own mother with a factory-line robot?”
“Abandoning human emotion? Why don’t you scumbags start by abandoning your corporate greed? Oh, wait, you already have.”
“Protecting humanity isn’t strictly about kinetic DPS, you idiots! Authentic pets guard our psychological and emotional stability—that is the ultimate shield!”
“If your clunky machines are so superior, why don’t you try giving birth to a mechanical pet yourself and see how that goes!”
“Parasocial fan culture? Are you calling a global demographic of working mothers a ‘fan circle’? I am laughing out loud at your metrics!”
…
The mothers’ text was razor-sharp, direct, and completely merciless. Their elite, seasoned mastery of verbal warfare instantly hijacked the algorithm, driving related topics straight to the absolute peak of the trending charts.
Their arguments were beautifully simple, yet dripping with deep wisdom that cut straight through the corporate spin.
#MothersFiercelyPulverizeMechanicalPetCartels# #FamilyMembers!ThisIsTheDayILearnMyMotherIsADigitalWarfareGenius# #Hilarious:ICannotWinAnArgumentAgainstMyMomAtHomeOrOnline#
Zhong Huihui’s entire perception of internet culture was thoroughly shattered. “The mother demographic is terrifyingly powerful! Their vocabulary for dismantling an online troll is a masterclass!”
“And more than that… every single point they’re making is mathematically flawless!”
As hundreds of thousands of mothers flooded the digital battlegrounds, the balance of the trending search algorithms violently tilted. The funded, artificial negative entries were ruthlessly suppressed into oblivion, replaced by a roaring cascade of authentic public accountability:
“Do the mechanical pet cartels even possess a basic human conscience?”
“To maximize your quarterly sales, you people are willing to manufacture any lie!”
The executives running the pet cartels were completely struck dumb at their consoles. They had fully believed that dropping a fortune to secure sponsored slots would cleanly neutralize the giant panda’s viral momentum, never anticipating that they would run straight into a brick wall of unhinged maternal fury.
“What the hell happened to our analytics?” a marketing director demanded in a panic. “We ran a deep biometric trace on these accounts prior to deployment; their data signatures showed absolute zero interest in tamer politics or hardware discussions!”
“Your data models are a joke! How did your software fail to forecast a mass maternal intervention?!”
“The troll network we mobilized was calibrated exclusively to manipulate the psychological triggers of the younger tamer demographic…”
“Damn it! We built our entire defense around the youth, completely ignoring the massive, silent demographic of working mothers who usually refrain from public board discussions!”
“What’s the play now? Do we inject a secondary wave of funding to reclaim the algorithm?”
“Inject funding? Squeeze capital into a meat grinder! Do you honestly believe your trolls can out-argue them? Can you win a screaming match against your own mother?!”
“…Obviously not.” The executive ground his teeth, his fury mounting as his strategy collapsed.
Su Wudeng watched the corporate blocks fall on her screen, a deep, beautiful warmth flooding her chest.
Aihua tore her own body apart to shield her litter. And these fierce, loving mothers just tore the network apart to shield us.
Zhong Huihui was so intensely moved she was blinking back fresh tears. “I knew the galaxy wouldn’t just sit back and let our beautiful Huahua suffer a funded smear campaign, waaah~” She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Shopkeeper, should we capitalize on this momentum and issue an official corporate statement? Just like we mapped out earlier?”
Su Wudeng considered the board for a moment before shaking her head. “Not yet.”
“Engaging in a direct, vocal street fight with the established cartels right now offers us zero strategic utility. Let’s let the traffic settle for a minute while I engineer a definitive counter-move.”
After all, her shop was still in its baseline infancy, while the mechanical pet cartels commanded massive logistics networks spanning multiple galaxies. She let out a soft sigh. If she could somehow secure an official, high-tier institutional endorsement to validate her inventory, the cartels’ corporate warfare would be neutralized instantly.
Meanwhile, inside the elite strategic command bay of the Ether Front Logistics Division.
“No, you’re listing way too many botanical strains! Strip the fat and isolate the primary high-yield targets!”
“…Every single specimen on this list is a primary target! They are all critically essential for tactical survival!”
The committee of officers was on the verge of launching into another fierce debate.
Suddenly, a young Lieutenant’s focus ignited. “Wait a minute, gentlemen! Why are we turning this into a theoretical debate? Why don’t we route the inventory catalog straight to General Chu’s personal console?”
The room went completely dead silent.
Exactly. Why were they wasting time guessing the parameters? They could simply present the options to the apex commander himself and let him designate his strategic needs!
“Brilliant! This is the ultimate window for our Logistics Division to prove its strategic utility to high command!” The Captain slammed his fist against the map table, bolting out of his chair. “We can finally secure major recognition from General Chu!”
“Move, move! We present the files to General Chu immediately!”
They marched down the corridor with high-spirited, heroic strides, looking like men who had already claimed a massive tactical victory. And honestly, if this pipeline locked in successfully, it would be recorded as a monumental logistical achievement for the entire war zone. They had established a direct line to a mysterious, unverified supplier capable of rolling out premium spiritual plants in industrial volumes.
Stepping into General Chu’s private office, the Captain rapidly delivered a comprehensive briefing tracking the transaction history.
General Chu sat behind his desk, a suffocating silence settling over the room as he absorbed the data.
“You aren’t fabricating these metrics to amuse me, are you?”
“Are these transaction logs authentic?”
“You have genuinely established a secure pipeline to a hidden botanical supplier?”
“Hand over the network address and identity files of this seller immediately!”
The committee of officers froze, a visible trace of hesitation crossing their faces.
“General,” a Lieutenant spoke up cautiously, his voice dropping. “With all due respect… running a deep surveillance probe on this seller might be a critical mistake. We have zero data regarding the scale of the ancient faction or syndicate backing her venture. Our best tactical move is to maintain total cooperation without prying.”
General Chu’s brow arched subtly, a dangerous light flashing in his eyes. “Do I appear to be a brainless grunt to you?” He let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “We are soldiers sworn to defend the frontier, not an underground espionage ring plotting to swindle a vendor. What the hell are you people turning over in your heads all day?”
“My only priority is to evaluate the tier of the spiritual flora she can deliver to our fleet. High command requires a long-term, stable, and secure supply chain—we aren’t here to flip the table on our own vendor!”
“Do you grasp my meaning?”
The officers relaxed their posture, letting out a collective, quiet breath of relief as they anchored their focus. Following the reprimand, General Chu’s tone smoothed out. He pondered the data for a brief moment, before speaking with fluent, absolute precision, as if he had rehearsed the directives a thousand times in his mind: “Transmit our procurement order immediately. We require these five specific spiritual plant strains.”
“First: Dragon Blood Vine. It exponentially multiplies a tamer’s baseline physical threshold and stamina, dramatically extending their survival window on a high-intensity battlefield.”
“Second: Mind Amber Grass. It significantly enhances the neural synchronization and telepathic link between a beastmaster and their mecha, maximizing tactical coordination and boosting combat efficiency.”
“Third: Insect-Eating Star Flower. It multiplies a tamer’s sensory perception regarding the Zerg swarm, allowing them to detect the proximity signatures and vector movements of incoming bugs from extreme distances.”
“Fourth: Diamond Healing Root…”
“Fifth: The legendary, soul-concentrating Spirit-Defying Grass…”
As General Chu methodically listed the botanical names, the officers initially nodded along, but by the time he cleared the third strain, the room had fallen into a stunned, absolute silence.
When the commander concluded his directives, the expressions on the officers’ faces were a mix of total awe and sheer disbelief.
Ultimately, the Captain broke the silence, his voice trembling slightly from the sheer impossibility of the order. “General… the strains you are designating… their rarity tiers scale exponentially.”
“The first two are within the realm of statistical probability, but the latter three… those are functionally extinct, legendary species! Even the global Agricultural Research Institute hasn’t managed to synthesize their genetic profiles…”
“General, should we perhaps include some baseline, standard spiritual flora in the order? If this hidden vendor fails to deliver these mythical strains, won’t we completely waste our priority communication window?”
General Chu fell silent. He was fully aware that the latter half of his list entered the realm of mythical rarities.
But… a trace of bone-deep exhaustion and helplessness bled into his voice as he stared at the battlefield telemetry maps. “You all know exactly how brutal our attrition rate against the Zerg has become.”
“If this vendor can genuinely source these strains, it will fundamentally alter the tide of this war. If she cannot…” He paused, his gaze softening. “We don’t force the issue. It’s simply a tactical probe to test the limits of her inventory.”
The five strains had been meticulously selected to span the entire spectrum of botanical power, moving from low-tier utilities to legendary tier assets. In truth, from a pragmatic standpoint, if this mysterious supplier could merely deliver the first two items in bulk, it would be an incredible victory for his war zone. As for the final three, particularly the legendary Spirit-Defying Grass, he was simply tossing a Hail Mary into the dark.
After all, the core foundation of believing in a miracle was having the courage to pray for one!
He took a deep, stabilizing breath, facing the committee. “Alright, don’t just stand there staring at me. Establish contact with the shopkeeper immediately.”
“Inform her that credits are an infinite resource for our high command. If her organization prefers to trade for specialized military assets, raw materials, or classified hardware, as long as the demands fall within my executive clearance, everything is on the table for negotiation.”
The Second Lieutenant tasked with managing the direct comm link suddenly thought of a variable. He asked cautiously, “General… what if she rejects capital and requests institutional honors or military titles instead?”
A sharp, meaningful smile played at the corners of General Chu’s lips. “That would be an even better outcome.”
“Waging a war of attrition costs tangible, physical resources. But institutional honors…” He left the sentence hanging, but every officer in the room caught the strategic implication.
Titles and medals cost absolutely nothing to print; you can hand out as many as the vendor wants!
“Whatever. Stop running hypothetical scenarios in your heads and transmit the inquiry first,” General Chu concluded. “If her organization can only supply a minor, boutique volume of these spiritual plants, we maintain standard commercial cooperation.”
“But if she commands an industrial, bulk reservoir of these strains…” A brilliant flash of absolute expectation ignited in his eyes. “Then our war zone must bind this supplier to our fleet with ironclad, permanent tethers. Do you all understand?!”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
The committee whirled to exit the command bay, but General Chu suddenly stood up from his desk. “Hold on. I don’t trust you blundering grunts to handle a negotiation of this magnitude cleanly. I am logging into the channel to manage the communication personally.”
The officers: … Then why the hell did you deliver a fifteen-minute lecture first!
Back at Pet Love Home.
The live broadcast was drawing to a natural conclusion. Tracking the runtime logs, Su Wudeng saw that her window was closing, and she faced the camera to deliver her wrap-up remarks. “Alright, everyone, that concludes our broadcast for today!”
“But before I hit the switch, I have a small, exclusive teaser to share.”
“Our shop is currently preparing a massive, spectacular surprise for the next phase of our rollout!”
The live chat, which had been frantically typing messages of sorrow over the stream ending a second ago, instantly shifted into pure, manic curiosity.
“What kind of surprise?! Give us the details, Shopkeeper!”
“Don’t leave us hanging on a cliffhanger! My curiosity is literally going to kill me!”
Su Wudeng let out a soft chuckle. “This surprise is intimately linked to our next flagship pet beast. If our observation parameters proceed smoothly, the new species will officially be ready to meet the public within a week!”
“Ahhh! The next pet is a dog, isn’t it?!”
“No way! A whole week?! I can’t wait that long!”
“A dog plus a ‘massive surprise’… I can’t even begin to visualize what class of canine she’s sourced!”
“Puppies! My precious puppies! Run straight into my arms right now!”
“The Canine Cult vanguard has arrived! We are prepped and ready to welcome the hounds back to the galaxy!”
Su Wudeng couldn’t suppress a smile as she watched the sheer, unhinged enthusiasm flooding the chat feed. In her previous life, cats and dogs had held an absolute, undisputed duopoly over the pet industry. She hadn’t anticipated that in this high-tech interstellar era, despite canines being trapped on the brink of functional extinction for generations, humanity’s innate devotion to dogs remained completely unblemished.
“I just pray they can survive the sheer chaos of the Husky line,” she thought to herself, her eyes crinkling. “Though given its unique personality parameters…”
“Well, predicting how a future owner will survive the mental strain of raising a husky is tough…”
“But the netizens watching the stream are guaranteed to be thoroughly entertained!”
At the thought, Su Wudeng’s gaze automatically drifted away from the HUD to settle on Amber lounging beside her counter. The chaotic hound was staring back at her with his classic, vacant look of canine wisdom, completely oblivious to her thoughts.
“Woof?” What’s the matter, Master?
Su Wudeng clamped a hand over her forehead, letting out a helpless laugh. “Amber… we have a senior academic… um, Professor Yang coming to the shop shortly.”
“You need to maintain your absolute best behavior. Do not launch into any sudden, chaotic stunts to terrify him, understand? Elderly human cardiovascular systems are incredibly fragile.”
Amber immediately snapped into a rigid posture, puffing his chest out as his ears twitched into a dissatisfied angle, letting out a sharp mental rumble. “Do not insult my intelligence, Master!”
“I, Amber, am a matured, rock-solid, and impeccably handsome blade-master. You can rest your soul in absolute peace!”
Su Wudeng shot him a deeply skeptical look. Right at that exact microsecond, the high-priority chime of a Star Network transaction cleared her console.
She whirled around to check her monitor, confirming it was the mysterious big spender from the logistics division replying to her message. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as her gaze scanned the procurement spreadsheet they had transmitted.
“This buyer is an absolute corporate whale. They’re requesting a baseline volume of one hundred mature plants for every single strain!”
“I’ve already mapped out the locations for the first two varieties; those grow like common weeds across the ridges of the staging map.”
“And as for the final three, the descriptions match specimens I’ve caught glimpses of deeper in the woods. But I haven’t locked in their exact coordinates yet; I’ll need to manually scout the perimeter to harvest them.”
After a brief calculation, her fingers blurred across the console to fire off a rapid response: “Confirmed. Sourcing the full allocation for the first two strains is entirely feasible. I will run a manual verification on the current maturity cycles of the remaining three items. Please hold for a brief moment.”
Disconnecting the terminal, she whirled toward Amber with a bright smile. “Alright, let’s take a quick stroll through your old backyard wilderness.”
The exact second the word wilderness registered in his ears, Amber’s blue optical centers ignited with pure joy. While the shop provided an endless bounty of premium delicacies, the physical layout was far too cramped for his taste, lacking any real space to run wild. Furthermore, it had been days since he had last gotten into a fierce, highly satisfying shouting match with that fat squirrel.
Crucially, a brilliant, proud realization struck his canine brain: I need to strut back into that forest and flaunt my ultra-luxury, high-tier lifestyle to the locals!
Fired up by the prospect of boasting, he scrambled to his feet, using his nose to expertly flip open his favorite treat drawer to pack a massive bundle of jerky and snacks into his inventory space.
He was so overstimulated by pure excitement he could barely control his hind legs, aggressively nudging his massive head against Su Wudeng’s chest before tossing his head back to let out an ecstatic howl: “Awoooo! Move, move! Let’s go right now!”
“System! Initiate traversal!”
Following a brief wave of spatial vertigo, Su Wudeng opened her eyes to find herself standing in the lush heart of the Great Prosperity Era. Emerald flora covered the landscape to the horizon, and the ambient air was thick with the crisp, sweet fragrance of untouched plants. She took a deep, desperate breath, a profound wave of comfort washing over her entire body.
“Magnificent!”
Beside her, Amber transformed into a silver-blue streak, violently charging straight into the deep jungle in a fraction of a second. Su Wudeng watched the trail of dust he left behind, a small smile playing on her lips. “He definitely sprinted straight to the fat squirrel’s hollow.”
She decided to treat it as a routine walk for the dog, letting him burn off his chaotic energy however he pleased.
Turning her head, she focused on a crystal-clear stream meandering past a nearby ridge, its surface rippling beautifully under the natural sun. A gentle breeze swept across the grass, bringing bursts of vibrant floral fragrance. Sustained by this impossibly fertile, ancient soil, the spiritual plants were growing with terrifying vigor, with rare, high-grade botanical signatures visible wherever she looked.
Su Wudeng adjusted her smart glasses, initiating a high-speed diagnostic scan of the flora surrounding her boots.
The first two targets on her procurement order were a walk in the park. She merely had to bend her knees, systematically uprooting the mature spiritual plants one by one. However, she hadn’t even cleared the first fifty stalks before a deep, aching soreness settled into her lower back.
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered to herself, pausing to rub her back. “I completely forgot to deploy the heavy-duty mechanical assistant I bought from the mall. Next time I traverse, I am hard-coding its programming to handle the manual labor and gathering protocols.”
Thankfully, the spiritual flora in this quadrant grew in dense, hyper-concentrated clusters, allowing her to pull out massive bundles with a single movement. Before long, her inventory slots for the first two strains were fully packed to capacity.
“Next up is the third target: the Insect-Eating Star Flower.”
Sourcing this strain was equally straightforward. Su Wudeng merely advanced a short distance over the next ridge before her smart glasses locked onto the signature. The Insect-Eating Star Flower boasted a series of beautifully formed, star-shaped petals, its surface lined with microscopic tactical tentacles. Even under the blinding glare of the noon sun, she could clearly discern a soft, eerie azure luminescence radiating from its core.
According to the historical archives, its chemical parameters dramatically amplified a tamer’s sensory awareness regarding the Zerg swarm—an invaluable tactical asset on the frontline borders.
She squatted down to harvest a stalk, a sudden thought crossing her mind: “If I consume a portion of this myself, will my own biology awaken the ability to perceive the Zerg?”
Granted, she had absolutely zero intention of volunteering for a frontline military fleet, but in an era plagued by sudden, existential planetary crises, stacking as many defensive biological traits onto herself as possible was a bulletproof survival strategy. Wasting no time, she didn’t just harvest the military’s quota; she systematically gathered several extra prime specimens for herself and her sister, Yulan.
But when her focus shifted to tracking down the final two items on the ledger, Su Wudeng realized she had hit a major logistical bottleneck. While the Diamond Healing Root and the legendary Spirit-Defying Grass certainly existed within this regional map, their concentration density was leagues below the common strains.
“Whatever. I’ll harvest every single mature stalk I can find.”
She carefully, methodically excavated a few Diamond Healing Roots from the rich earth. The internal fibers of the root were as dense and unyielding as tempered alloy, and the outer bark was carpeted with thousands of microscopic golden particles that caught the sunlight like spun gold. This specific botanical dramatically accelerated the innate cellular reconstruction metrics of both human tamers and their companion beasts, rapidly sealing critical trauma.
“I am definitely archiving a few of these in my personal vault!”
“I need to courier a bundle of these straight to Yulan’s recovery ward as well,” she resolved internally. “My sister’s biological foundation still requires deep, high-density stabilization after forcing that breakthrough.”
Sourcing the final strain—the Spirit-Defying Grass—proved to be an grueling treasure hunt. Su Wudeng combed through the dense undergrowth for a long time before her smart glasses finally isolated a small, rare cluster of the translucent flora. According to the text, this legendary botanical directly fortified a tamer’s raw mental capacity and focus, drastically optimizing neural link stability and allowing a tamer to accurately command multiple heavy-class mechas simultaneously without neural degradation. Its delicate leaves were perfectly clear, featuring a distinct, crystalline eye-like structure at the absolute center that looked profoundly mysterious and deep.
“The cognitive amplification parameters of this strain are remarkably similar to the effects of the Astraea Grass,” she analyzed, her gaze drifting toward a patch of newly sprouted Astraea shoots growing a short distance away.
“Since they operate within the same premium functional paradigm, I might as well clear out the mature specimens of both!”
She had to admit that this pristine, untouched land was an absolute goldmine; the ambient growth velocity of the flora was terrifyingly efficient. She stared down at her bulging inventory slots, her heart filled with immense satisfaction.
“A conservative market valuation for this single haul easily clears a hundred million credits. I’ve officially made a fortune!”
She strictly confined her harvesting to fully matured specimens, leaving the juvenile shoots completely unblemished to preserve the cycle. And given the accelerated growth velocity of this fertile sanctuary, she estimated a fresh batch would be ready for harvest within a week.
Su Wudeng turned the logistics over in her mind, concluding that manual gathering was far too inefficient for her long-term goals. She needed to purchase and deploy automated mechanical harvesters into the staging map to optimize the pipeline. After all, she was filthy rich now! Capital wasn’t an issue! Buy out the catalog! Erect an automated agricultural empire!
Packing the final botanical away, Su Wudeng whirled around, realizing Amber hadn’t trotted back to her side yet. Tracking the sound of distant rustling, she peered through the trees, only to find the massive husky locked in an intense, animated conversation with the little squirrel.
Amber held his silver-blue head comically high, his plush paws gesturing wildly in the air as he performed a series of dramatic, boasting movements. The physical distance was too far for her naked eye to distinguish the details, prompting her to zoom the optic tracking on her smart glasses to observe the interaction. She was treated to the sight of the little squirrel staring back at the dog with an expression of absolute, jaw-dropping shock.
Suddenly, Amber reached into his inventory space, producing a premium, freshly baked slice of artisan meat floss cake, and generously pushed the treat toward the rodent’s paws.
“This chaotic glutton is actually sharing his personal food supply with a wild animal?”
Su Wudeng’s mind experienced a mild shock. This dog routinely plotted to plunder the treat bowls of the tiny husky puppies in the shop; this was the absolute first time she had ever witnessed him actively handing his food over to a stranger!
Glancing at the sky and realizing their window was closing, Su Wudeng projected her voice through the trees. “Time’s up, Amber! We’re heading back to the shop!”
Amber’s large ears snapped upright instantly, his head whipping around. His auditory tracking was flawless; he caught her vocal frequency through the dense brush in a millisecond.
Even though he was right in the middle of a highly satisfying bragging monologue, the soul-link command was absolute, forcing him to reluctantly conclude his conversation.
“Oh~” Got it, Master.
He turned back to the stunned squirrel, dropping a final mental bark: “I have zero reason to lie to a baseline rodent like you. Take a bite and let the flavor violently shatter your tiny mind.”
“Hehe, I am returning to my palace to indulge in my ultra-luxury, high-tier lifestyle. You enjoy staying cooped up in this hollow cracking hard nuts for the rest of your days. Bye!”
With that final boast, Amber transformed into a blurred whirlwind, sprinting straight back to Su Wudeng’s side. Under the natural sun, his immaculate, plush coat looked infinitely smoother and more vibrant than when they had first arrived, gleaming like expensive silk.
The little squirrel sat on its mossy branch, its gaze locked onto the path where Amber had vanished.
“The structural metrics are undeniable… his limbs have grown robustly powerful, and his frame is remarkably rounded and dense.”
“Within a terrifyingly brief timeline, his physical development has clearly experienced a massive, qualitative evolution.”
The rodent lowered its head, staring down at the artisanal cake cradled in its tiny paws. The intoxicatingly sweet, savory aroma wafting from the pastry caused its mouth to water intensely. It looked up toward the distant clearing where Amber had stood.
“Could the absolute absurdities he babbled actually be true?”
“A life where every single time you open your eyes, a mountain of premium, heavenly delicacies is dropped into your bowl without a single day of survival strain or exposure to the elements…”
“An environment packed with advanced running wheels and high-tech massage rollers engineered solely for your pleasure…”
“And most importantly… a human tamer who spends all day praising your grandeur…”
The fluffy tail of the little squirrel began to sway back and forth in a slow, rhythmic pattern as its cognitive gears turned.
“The unlimited food logistics are whatever, but… a human who spends all day praising your grandeur…”
Deep down, its heart experienced a profound, undeniable pull.
Meanwhile, inside the primary briefing suite of the Ether Front Logistics Division.
General Chu and his elite procurement staff were clustered around the master console, their eyes fixed on the shopkeeper’s text response blinking on the central interface.
“It aligns perfectly with our forecasting models,” a Captain noted, checking the logs. “The vendor explicitly states that fulfilling the full allocation for the first two strains is a done deal. But as for the final three, she requires a brief window to locate and harvest them.”
“How exactly does a merchant define ‘a brief moment’ within a high-stakes interstellar transaction?”
A senior logistics officer clapped his hand onto the anxious young Lieutenant’s shoulder, letting out a knowing chuckle. “Relax, kid. ‘A brief moment’ is a standard, polite commercial phrase used by suppliers; in reality, mobilizing a botanical harvest of this tier always commands an extensive timeline.”
“Do you honestly believe legendary, extinct spiritual plants grow like common cabbages? Like she can just stroll into a field, scoop up a hundred stalks of Spirit-Defying Grass, and waltz back to her counter in an afternoon? Impossible.”
“Precisely,” another Lieutenant chimed in, validating his analysis. “The ‘brief moment’ she’s referencing will take at least two to three weeks to process. I vividly recall our last transaction with a baseline botanical merchant; he used the exact same phrasing, and our logistics division ended up waiting a full month before the cargo containers cleared the shipping ports.”
“A brief moment,”
“immediately,”
“right this second”—those are nothing but standard supplier fabrications. They refused to let their hopes get out of hand.
General Chu pondered the variables for a moment before issuing a decisive command: “Instruct the vendor to initiate immediate dispatch for the first two fully allocated strains. Inform her there is zero pressure regarding the remaining inventory; her organization can take all the time they require to finalize the harvest.”
The communications clerk swiftly keyed in the directives, transmitting the update to her terminal.
Suddenly, a logistics clerk who spent his off-hours browsing social media feeds remembered a viral trend, his face lighting up with excitement. “Hey, have you guys scanned the civilian media feeds following our fleet’s victory announcement? There is an absolutely hilarious, unhinged thread trending right below our official reports.”
“An unhinged thread? Share the breakdown.”
With the procurement order transmitted, the committee of officers had nothing to do but wait for the vendor’s digital acknowledgment. Listening to a bit of network gossip was the perfect way to pass the time.
The clerk adjusted his console display to project the feed onto the main screen. “A civilian account left a massive testimonial beneath our military bulletins, claiming that an authentic, living apex pet beast recently materialized inside a tiny retail storefront on a remote, fourth-tier planet!”
“Absolute horse crap!” an officer cursed out loud instantly, scoffing. “How could a living sovereign be sold on the open retail market? If a faction manages to source an authentic pet, it’s locked down by the high-command fleets or the core syndicates immediately. A pet shop on a backwater fourth sector planet? What a ridiculous joke.”
Seeing his colleagues wallowing in absolute skepticism only energized the clerk further. “I am deadly serious! The unedited footage has completely broken the global algorithm! And guess what classification of apex beast it is?”
The entire room of officers had their curiosity intensely whetted by his delivery. Despite their logical paradigms screaming that the story was a fabrication, their eyes remained glued to the display. “Stop playing games and drop the asset classification. What species are we talking about?”
“An Iron-Eating Beast!”
“And it’s an alpha mother sovereign!”
“And she just successfully delivered a triplet litter inside the shop!”
The exact millisecond the final sentence left his lips, the entire strategic command bay violently erupted into a deafening roar of laughter. Even General Chu couldn’t suppress a massive, sweeping grin.
“Hahaha, are you reading off a fairytale script to amuse the committee?”
“I don’t even know which parameter of that story to dismantle first!”
“An authentic Iron-Eating Beast sovereign? Do you fools possess a single shred of data tracking just how catastrophically rare that line is? It is one of the heaviest, most devastating terrestrial bear pets in existence!”
“What makes the hoax truly hilarious is the claim that it’s an alpha mother. Sourcing a viable infant requires a tamer to locate and secure a breeding pair of fully matured sovereigns in the wild—which hasn’t been accomplished in a century!”
“And I don’t even want to waste breath on the final parameter. A triplet labor? Do you blockheads have the slightest inkling of the biological failure rates and dytocia risks governing pet beast delivery? Triplets are a mathematical impossibility for a terrestrial sovereign!”
“Come on, be honest with me—do you seriously expect a room of military tactical analysts to believe a word of that garbage?”
It was pure, unadulterated nonsense!
