Chapter 31: The Exhausted Planet
Su Wudeng was genuinely in shock.
What had she even done to deserve being given an entire planet? The gift was simply too massive; she hardly dared to accept it.
She coughed lightly, eyeing the three soldiers with suspicion. Half-joking and half-serious, she asked, “You aren’t trying to use this to get the Husky puppies through the backdoor, are you?”
Hearing this, the three men frantically waved their hands in denial. “No, no, no! Absolutely not!”
Lei Jing spoke up with absolute sincerity. “Manager Su, this is just a small token of our appreciation. We all know that the batch of spiritual plants you provided us last time was easily worth over a hundred million credits. This planet is General Chu’s special way of thanking you.”
Qin Ke nodded solemnly. “Please accept it. It represents our utmost sincerity.”
Su Wudeng finally understood. Her spiritual plants were indeed incredibly valuable, but wasn’t the General going a bit overboard by handing over an entire Level 4 planet? Even for a lower-tier world, the real estate alone had to be worth at least a billion credits. It far exceeded the value of her plants.
The gift felt entirely too heavy.
Sensing her hesitation, Lei Jing quickly offered a guarantee. “As for the Husky contracts, we will absolutely follow the rules you’ve set. This planet is purely to solidify our foundation of cooperation.”
“If you ever have more spiritual plants to sell, or if future pets need to be contracted,” Yuan Bo added earnestly, “we only ask that you give our War Zone priority.”
That was their only request.
Su Wudeng was deeply moved. Their sincerity was overwhelming, making her feel a bit embarrassed for doubting them.
Yet, she couldn’t deny that the offer was incredibly tempting. Pet Home was simply too cramped right now. She had wanted to expand, but with other shops crowding her on all sides, she hadn’t known where to start.
More importantly, Aihua had decided to stay. The current shop was far too small for a giant panda to comfortably move around in. In her past life, these national treasures were given entire mountains to roam. How could she confine Aihua to such a tiny space after the bear had chosen to follow her? She felt guilty just thinking about it.
She made her decision. She would accept the planet, but she absolutely refused to let the military take a loss.
“I really do need the space,” Su Wudeng finally said. “I’ll accept the planet, but don’t worry—I will repay you with spiritual plants of equal value. Moving forward, your War Zone will have first priority for any spiritual plants I cultivate. As for the pets… as long as they can be contracted, I will make sure your men always get a chance to try.”
The three soldiers were ecstatic. Mission accomplished!
Seeing their glowing expressions, Su Wudeng was quick to temper their expectations. “But don’t get your hopes too high. The pets choose their owners, not the other way around. It’s completely out of my control.”
Before she could even finish, Lei Jing puffed out his chest. “Don’t worry, Manager! We completely respect your rules!”
If anything, their admiration for her only deepened. They all knew that anyone else in her position would have exploited these rare pets and plants to amass an unimaginable fortune. But Su Wudeng always prioritized the pets’ free will, preferring to run a tiny, humble shop on a rundown Level 4 star. It was proof of her genuine love for the animals!
With the partnership officially cemented, the soldiers grew more thrilled by the second. They finally had a stable, reliable source of spiritual plants. Those hateful Zerg wouldn’t know what hit them! And to top it off, they might even be first in line to contract real pets!
Lei Jing looked at Su Wudeng eagerly. “Shall we head over and handle the transfer formalities now? You’ll need to be present to sign.”
Su Wudeng blinked. Right now?
But then again, she really didn’t have anything pressing to do. Aihua was recovering beautifully, the live stream had been a massive success, and the malicious mechanical pet merchants had been brought to justice.
She felt a surge of energy. It was time to expand Pet Home!
“Let’s go!” Su Wudeng declared proudly.
Just then, Zhong Huihui walked out from the back room. Seeing her boss heading for the door with the soldiers, she asked casually, “Oh, Manager, are you heading out?”
Without breaking her stride, Su Wudeng called back, “Yep! Just popping out to buy the planet.”
Huihui froze, her brain short-circuiting. “…A planet?”
Did she hear that right? Her boss was going to buy the planet?
By the time she snapped out of her daze, Su Wudeng and the three officers had already disappeared out the door. Huihui stood perfectly still, her mind in absolute chaos.
How did the Manager make buying a celestial body sound as casual as picking up groceries?!
But… the Manager never jokes about stuff like this…
Wait, that means it’s true!
Her eyes lit up, and she practically jumped for joy. “Does that mean the store is going to expand?! Are we getting more pets?!”
Imagining a massive new space with dedicated training grounds and lush resting areas, she couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Working for the Manager is the best career path ever! She’s too powerful!”
Lei Jing and the others escorted Su Wudeng to the Planetary Administration Bureau.
It was undoubtedly the tallest building on the planet—a towering silver-gray spire that pierced the smoggy sky right in the center of the city.
As soon as they entered the grand lobby, an impeccably dressed official hurried over to greet them. “Right this way, please,” she said, leading them into a sleek conference room. “All the documentation has been prepared. You just need to verify the contents and sign.”
General Chu had clearly pulled every string possible to expedite the process. Su Wudeng skimmed the digital documents to ensure there were no hidden traps, took a deep breath, and solemnly signed her name on the final screen.
Ding.
Her Star Brain chimed, and a notification popped up: [Congratulations on becoming the owner of Planet XJ-738. Digital proof of ownership has been bound to your account. Physical deeds will be delivered within three working days.]
Su Wudeng stared at the screen, a little dazed. That was it? I own a planet now?
It felt incredibly surreal.
“Manager Su,” Lei Jing chuckled, noticing her blank expression. “Why don’t we go take a look at the planetary control center? It might help it feel a bit more real.”
Because General Chu had made the process so ridiculously smooth, the whole affair lacked any sense of ceremony. Su Wudeng nodded. “Yeah, let’s go take a look.”
After passing through several high-security checkpoints, they arrived in a massive, circular hall. The moment she stepped inside, Su Wudeng felt as though she were floating in the vast expanse of the cosmos.
Suspended in the center of the room was a breathtaking, room-sized holographic projection of Planet XJ-738.
The yellow-gray sphere rotated slowly, every topographical detail rendered with crystal clarity. She reached out and pinched the air, causing the hologram to instantly magnify. Panning across the surface, she was actually able to locate her own tiny pet shop! It looked no bigger than a speck of dust on the grand planetary map.
The planet was roughly the same size as the Earth from her past life. The biggest difference, however, was the complete absence of oceans.
At the heart of the planet lay a dense, sprawling jungle of steel—endless rows of skyscrapers packed tightly together. This was the planetary core, the sole gathering place for human civilization.
But immediately outside the city limits, the scenery shifted violently.
A vast, dead wasteland stretched as far as the eye could see. Not a single blade of grass grew there. Jagged rocks, weathered by centuries of harsh winds, formed rolling, jagged dunes. Occasionally, the deep, dried-up scars of ancient riverbeds carved their way across the earth.
“This is the reality of ecological collapse,” Qin Ke sighed softly from beside her. “Most Level 4 planets look exactly like this. The actual habitable zones are incredibly small.”
“The rest of it is just a toxic wasteland,” Lei Jing added. “You can’t plant anything, and you can’t live there. And honestly… the degradation is only accelerating. Managing a planet isn’t a simple task, Manager.”
Su Wudeng remained silent.
Since she had arrived in this world, all she had seen were the steel walls of the city. This was her first time looking at the planet from a macro perspective. She had known about the interstellar ecological crisis in theory, but witnessing the sheer scale of the devastation with her own eyes was profoundly shocking.
The longer she looked at the dead earth, the more a familiar ache swelled in her chest. With the soul of an agricultural nation ingrained in her very bones, seeing so much land go to waste felt like a crime. She had the overwhelming urge to roll up her sleeves, grab a hoe, and start farming immediately.
But she knew it couldn’t be done overnight. There was no water, no seeds, and the soil composition was entirely dead.
How do I fix this?
She thought back to the resilient flora from her past life—the saxaul trees holding back the deserts, the camel thorns enduring the Gobi, the cordyceps thriving on high-altitude plateaus. If she could introduce those species here, she might actually have a chance to terraform this wasteland.
But the first hurdle was water. She would have to spend a fortune importing water from other planets and build massive reservoirs to store it.
Next was the seeds. She needed drought-resistant shrubs to act as windbreaks and stabilize the sand, forming a natural green barrier. On most barren planets, this was the hardest step—but Su Wudeng had access to the Great Prosperity Era. Finding the right seeds wouldn’t be an issue for her.
Finally, she would need to amend the soil. She would have to introduce specialized microorganisms to slowly rebuild the earth’s fertility. And of course, she would need a colossal amount of technological support: climate control grids, high-efficiency irrigation systems, chemical soil conditioners…
Just thinking about the logistics made Su Wudeng feel like her wallet was hemorrhaging credits.
She let out a long sigh. “We’ll just have to take it one step at a time. I hope that one day, I can make this planet prosperous and beautiful again. I want rolling green hills, lush pastures, fields of golden wheat, orchards heavy with fruit, clear streams, blue skies, white clouds, and flocks of birds…”
Just like the beautiful home she could never return to.
Seeing Su Wudeng staring wistfully at the map, Lei Jing assumed she was stressing over where to relocate the pet shop.
He pointed to a specific spot on the hologram. “Manager Su, you should consider moving the shop to the planetary core district. The conditions there are the best on the planet. It used to be the private residence of the former planetary governor.”
Su Wudeng looked where he was pointing, and her eyes lit up. “You’re right.”
The core district pulsed with a soft, inviting light on the map. It was dotted with actual patches of green, forming a stark, beautiful contrast against the surrounding gray urban sprawl.
“The area is massive,” she noted. “We have more than enough room to build the new Pet Home there.”
Hearing this, the three soldiers grew even more excited than if they had bought the planet themselves. They immediately started throwing out ideas.
“We could use this huge open field for Aihua! Give her a massive outdoor enclosure!”
“This section is perfect for a cat park! Snow Crystal Cats love to climb. We could design a multi-tiered structural habitat with a giant climbing frame!”
“And look at this flat sector—it gets the best sunlight! It would be perfect for the breeding and nursery rooms!”
The more they brainstormed, the more animated they became. Su Wudeng smiled, making mental notes. Their ideas were actually fantastic.
Suddenly, Lei Jing sighed, a trace of melancholy flickering in his eyes. “It’s a real shame our hometowns aren’t on this planet. If they were, I’d buy a house right next to your store. I’d spend my holidays and my retirement just coming over to pet the cats and dogs.”
He smiled wistfully at the thought. Yuan Bo and Qin Ke looked equally longing, clearly tempted by the fantasy.
“You guys serve in the Ether War Zone,” Su Wudeng mused. “Your hometowns must be on nearby planets, right?”
The three nodded.
“They are,” Lei Jing explained. “But the Ether War Zone is the most remote out of the eight major military districts. It’s mostly comprised of Level 4 stars. To be brutally honest, all of our home planets look exactly like this one—gray, dying, and bleak.”
Qin Ke offered a self-deprecating smile. “I only joined the military because my family was dirt poor. I heard the enlistment benefits were good, so I signed up.”
Yuan Bo’s gaze darkened. “I joined for revenge. My parents were slaughtered by the Zerg. I haven’t had a real home in a very long time. But… the idea of retiring on this planet sounds amazing. Assuming I live long enough to retire, of course.”
Lei Jing patted both of their shoulders. “War is a meat grinder. When I enlisted, there were over a dozen guys in my recruit squad. Now? I’m the only one left.”
He looked at Su Wudeng and offered a reassuring grin. “Don’t look at us with so much pity, Manager. The Eastern District is full of guys exactly like us. At least the military gives us a chance to gamble with our lives, right? If we win, we might become generals. If we lose, we just turn into a pile of dirt. Just look at General Chu! He’s living proof, and I respect the hell out of him.”
Lei Jing’s expression turned serious. “That’s why I’m so grateful to you, Manager Su. If you hadn’t provided those spiritual plants, I’m almost certain I would have died in our last deployment. And please, don’t think General Chu is being cheap by only giving you a Level 4 planet. The truth is… this planet was likely purchased using every single military merit he has earned over his entire career.”
Strategic reserves were the lifeblood of any war. Su Wudeng probably didn’t even realize just how monumentally she had shifted the balance of power. But General Chu knew. And so, he had pushed all his chips onto the table.
Su Wudeng was stunned. “Wait… aren’t spiritual plants supposed to be uniformly distributed to you by the High Command?”
The three men fell into a bitter, heavy silence.
Finally, Lei Jing spoke softly. “In theory, yes. But in reality… there are too many starving wolves and not nearly enough meat. It never trickles down to us.”
He let out a frustrated breath. “You might not know this, Manager, but the Eastern District is the black sheep of the military. We don’t have legendary, god-tier pets like the Southern District. We don’t have lucrative partnerships with top-tier research institutes supplying us with cutting-edge mechanical pets like the Western District. And we certainly aren’t the Northern District, which is just a glorified playground for the children of the rich and powerful to pad their resumes with endless financial backing.”
“Here in the East, we survive on grit and blood. Our entry requirements are the lowest, and the mechanical pets we get issued are absolute garbage. But our combat tactics? Our sheer will to survive? We’re the best in the galaxy.”
“Because when you don’t have resources, the only thing you can spend is your life.”
Lei Jing rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit embarrassed. “So, in the entire military apparatus, our branch is probably the only one desperate enough to actively scour the galaxy, looking to buy spiritual plants out of our own pockets.”
Hearing this, a sharp pang of empathy struck Su Wudeng’s heart. She finally understood why General Chu valued her so fiercely, and why he was willing to hand over an entire planet just to secure her loyalty.
Seeing the atmosphere grow heavy, Lei Jing quickly forced a bright smile, waving his hands. “Ah, enough of that depressing talk! The point is, we have you backing us up now! With your help, we’re going to outshine every other district out there!”
He quickly pivoted. “By the way, Manager, do you have any contractors in mind for the new shop’s renovations? If not, we can recommend a great crew! A lot of our brothers-in-arms hail from this planet; we can definitely pull together a team of reliable, hardworking guys for you!”
Looking at the eager, hopeful faces of the three soldiers, Su Wudeng felt a swell of profound respect. She nodded firmly. “That would be wonderful. Please, get in touch with them.”
She met their eyes, her voice carrying the weight of an absolute promise. “And don’t worry. I swear to you, the Eastern District will become the strongest force in the galaxy.”
“Thank you, Manager Su!” the three men beamed. “We’ll go make the calls right now! Just wait here!”
As they hurried out of the room, Su Wudeng turned back to the holographic projection of her new world. A thought suddenly occurred to her. Since she now owned the entire planet, did that mean her System’s security radius would expand to cover it?
She quickly summoned the System interface. Right on cue, a bold notification blinked on the screen:
[Territory expansion detected. The System Security Module can be upgraded to encompass the new borders. Would you like to upgrade immediately?]
“Hell yes!” she cheered.
But as she reached to tap the ‘Upgrade’ button, she noticed a line of fine print at the bottom of the screen.
Upgrade requires a massive expenditure of Hope Points.
She checked the exact cost. It was going to wipe out every single one of the hundreds of thousands of Hope Points she had painstakingly accumulated.
“This is a scam!” Su Wudeng gasped, clutching her chest in phantom pain. “It has to be a conspiracy! I take back every nice thing I ever said about you, System. You’re an absolute tyrant!”
But she didn’t have a choice. The benefits of planetary-level security were too immense to pass up. Gritting her teeth, she smashed the upgrade button.
[System upgrading… 10%… 50%… 100%]
[Upgrade Complete! The operational jurisdiction of Pet Home has been expanded to encompass the entirety of Planet XJ-738.]
Instantly, a new, hyper-detailed three-dimensional map materialized in her mind, vastly superior to the Bureau’s hologram. The System granted her perfect, omniscient monitoring—even in sectors with zero physical cameras installed.
But the most shocking feature was the administrative control. She felt a god-like connection to every single individual currently on the planet. With a mere thought, she could selectively target anyone and instantly deport them from her world.
Right as she was marveling at her new power, her eyes caught movement on the System map. A squad of stealthy, heavily armed figures was rapidly approaching the Planetary Administration building, specifically navigating through the city’s known security blind spots.
Alarmed, Su Wudeng quickly ducked behind a thick marble pillar near the doorway.
The squad moved with lethal efficiency.
Bang! The heavy doors to the hall were violently kicked open.
“Where is she?!” a gruff, heavily augmented voice barked. “There’s no way she slipped past us! How are we supposed to grab her if she’s gone?!”
“Impossible! I was watching the exits. She has to be in here!” another hissed. “Fan out and find her!”
Su Wudeng’s heart hammered against her ribs. Corporate mercenaries, here to kidnap her.
But thanks to the System, she had seen them coming. From the safety of her hiding spot, she locked onto their life signatures on her mental map and issued a cold, silent command.
Expel them all!
In the blink of an eye, the entire squad of mercenaries vanished into thin air.
Su Wudeng held her breath, waiting a full minute in the dead silence before cautiously stepping out from behind the pillar. The hall was completely empty.
“Holy crap…” she muttered, her eyes wide. “This System is insanely overpowered!”
She let out a breathless laugh. “I take it back again! Shut up and take my Hope Points! That was worth every single credit!”
Checking the System logs, she confirmed the mercenaries had been forcefully relocated outside her planetary borders.
High in the planet’s exosphere, the squad of mercenaries experienced a disorienting flash of light.
“Boss! What just happened?!”
“Why did the lights go out?!”
“Why do I feel like I’m floating?!”
The men looked around, only to realize with mounting horror that they were drifting in the inky black void of space. Below them, the massive, yellow-gray sphere of Planet XJ-738 loomed in the darkness.
Absolute, primal terror seized them.
“I… I can’t breathe!”
“We’re in the vacuum of space, you idiot! Of course there’s no air!”
“No… HELP—!”
Their screams were swallowed by the silent void.
Back on the surface, Su Wudeng was happily exploring the upgraded security features.
Not only could she manually expel threats, but she could set up automated deportation protocols! If a recognized threat entered the atmosphere, the System would instantly punt them back into space without her needing to lift a finger. It was the ultimate, hands-free defense grid.
Combined with the omniscient monitoring, she was the undisputed god of this world.
Excitement surged through her veins. She rubbed her hands together, ready to get to work. “If the whole planet is safe, then the whole planet is my pet store! The cubs are going to have the time of their lives!”
Shortly after, Lei Jing and the others returned with a massive crew of military engineers and a fleet of heavy construction tech.
“The crew is assembled, the equipment is prepped, and the blueprints are loaded!” Lei Jing reported crisply.
“Then let’s get to work!” Su Wudeng cheered.
The team hit the ground running. Aided by advanced construction drones, the core district began to undergo a rapid, miraculous transformation. Su Wudeng didn’t even need to be on the ground; she directed the entire operation from the control center, using her System map to monitor progress and make real-time adjustments. Lei Jing and his men stayed by her side, helping to coordinate logistics.
But terraforming a district was a massive undertaking that couldn’t be finished in a single day. As evening fell, they suspended operations and returned to the pet shop to rest.
During dinner, Su Wudeng noticed Lei Jing and his squad acting strangely again. They kept exchanging nervous glances, looking incredibly bashful.
Are they getting ready to leave? she wondered. It made sense. The partnership was finalized, the planet was hers, and their job was technically done.
But wait! They still hadn’t tried to contract the Huskies! Were they giving up on that?
“Whatever, let’s just eat,” she decided, focusing on her dinner. She grabbed a handful of nutrient solution bottles, selecting her favorite flavors with utmost seriousness. She had to chug at least ten of them just to feel full.
As they were finishing up, the three soldiers finally reached their breaking point.
Lei Jing cleared his throat, his face flushed. “Manager Su… um… is there any way we could secure long-term leases on a few of the residential units being built near the new shop?”
The three men stared at her, paralyzed with anxiety.
Su Wudeng instantly understood. So that’s why they were acting so weird! They were worried I’d reject them for being too clingy!
“Oh!” she laughed. “You guys want a place to stay so you can come visit the cubs on your days off, right?”
Seeing that she wasn’t annoyed, the soldiers let out a massive sigh of relief. “Yes, Manager! But please don’t misunderstand—we aren’t trying to slack off from our duties! We just genuinely love the pets. We’d only come down during our official leave…”
“Of course you can!” Su Wudeng interrupted with a warm smile. “Actually, I saw in the blueprints that we’re constructing a row of high-end hotels near the main enclosure. How about I reserve ten suites for your squad? Free of charge. You and your brothers can use them as your personal vacation homes.”
The three men erupted in cheers. “THANK YOU, MANAGER!”
“Manager Su, you are an absolute saint!”
“Oh, stop it,” Su Wudeng waved them off, smiling. “You guys have helped me so much. It’s the least I can do.”
Armed with her promise, the three soldiers eagerly snapped photos of the hotel blueprints and fired them into their War Zone’s internal group chat.
Qin Ke: [Hey guys, Manager Su just reserved a suite for me so I can come take care of the puppies whenever I want!]
Yuan Bo: [+1]
Lei Jing: [+1]
The group chat instantly exploded with rage and jealousy. [Wait, back up! Not only did you get to see Aihua, the kittens, and the puppies in person today… but you get to see them WHENEVER YOU WANT?!]
[You selfish bastards! Why did you only secure rooms for yourselves?! What about the rest of us?!]
[I am so incredibly jealous I might throw up. Why was I put on patrol duty today?!]
[@GeneralChu General! Are you seeing this?! This is blatant corruption! Fire them and send me!]
Qin Ke: [Oh, by the way, totally forgot to mention—the planetary alliance was a massive success! Hehe, mission accomplished!]
Lei Jing: [As squad captain, I verify his report. Also, relax boys. Manager Su reserved TEN suites for our unit’s exclusive use. You all get to come vacation here.]
[LETS GOOOOO! MANAGER SU IS THE BEST!]
[@GeneralChu General, we need to protect Manager Su with our lives!]
Reading the chat from his command center, General Chu laughed out loud. “You little brats, you think you need to tell me that?!”
They were all in the same boat now. If the Eastern District didn’t protect Su Wudeng, who would?
Suddenly, his private comms line chimed. The caller ID belonged to a rival general.
Chu’s expression darkened. He answered the call.
“Chu Tianhe, you greedy snake!” a voice barked. “You can’t hoard this all to yourself! Why don’t you loop the Second War Zone into your little partnership? Tell me, where exactly is Manager Su sourcing these pets?!”
General Chu rolled his eyes. Another idiot trying to pry into his goldmine. He had been fielding these irritating calls all day.
“Keep dreaming, you old toad!” Chu snapped, and immediately hung up.
Even if he knew her secrets—which he didn’t—he would sooner die than share them. Still irritated by the constant harassment, he opened the Joint High Command server and posted a galaxy-wide public broadcast.
[Stop asking me about Manager Su. Pet Home is under the absolute protection of the Eastern District. Anyone who dares to make a move on her will have to answer to me, Chu Tianhe. Try me.]
The message sent a shockwave through the other War Zones.
“Has Chu Tianhe lost his damn mind?!” one general fumed in private. “He’s openly threatening the entire military just to hoard a pet shop?!”
“He’s always been a rabid dog. Just ignore him.”
They grumbled and cursed him behind closed doors, but none of them dared to challenge him openly.
Chu Tianhe was infamous. He was a man with no elite backing, no noble blood, and nothing to lose. He was a “mad dog” who had literally clawed his way to the rank of Major General by climbing over mountains of Zerg corpses. No one in their right mind wanted to provoke a lunatic who could snap and start a bloodbath at any moment.
Worse yet, Planet XJ-738 was situated precariously close to the Ether War Zone. It was indisputably deep within Chu Tianhe’s sphere of influence.
Any faction that had been planning covert operations to investigate Pet Home immediately pumped the brakes.
“Tell all field operatives to stand down,” a shadowy commander ordered his men. “If you piss off that rabid dog, I won’t be able to protect you.”
Over the next few days, the construction of the new, planetary-scale Pet Home proceeded at a blistering pace.
With the automated drones and Lei Jing’s crew handling the heavy lifting, Su Wudeng didn’t need to micromanage the site. Instead, she turned her attention to a much more pressing issue: earning back her Hope Points!
The security system upgrade had completely bankrupted her. Looking at her zero-balance account filled her with a deep sense of insecurity. And if there was one proven method to harvest Hope Points rapidly, it was live streaming.
Looking down at Amber, who had just finished a massive meal and was lounging lazily on the floor, Su Wudeng grinned. “Come on, girl. Let’s go visit your hometown!”
Activating the system shuttle, the two of them were instantly transported to the Great Prosperity Era.
The moment they arrived, the System’s live broadcast engaged automatically. Notifications pinged across the galaxy, and viewers flooded into the room.
[Whoa, where is this? Manager, are you out hunting for new pets?!]
[What kind of secret realm is this?! I’ve never seen topography like this before. Manager, how much did the entry permit cost?]
Seeing the casual questions about the “secret realm,” veteran viewers immediately panicked. The chat began scrolling frantically to bury the questions.
[Hey newbies, shut up if you don’t know the rules!]
[Are you crazy?! You don’t just ask a Beastmaster about the coordinates of their private secret realm!]
[Seriously, it’s a miracle the Manager is even letting us watch a live exploration! If you scare her into turning off the stream, I will hunt you down!]
[Mods, ban those idiots!]
Su Wudeng watched the chaos with mild amusement. Ever since the Catastrophe destroyed the galaxy’s ecosystems, the random, spatial “Secret Realms” were the only remaining havens where people could find flora and fauna. Everyone naturally assumed she was exploring an ultra-rare, pristine realm. She was more than happy to let them believe it; it saved her the trouble of explaining the System.
Besides, in a way, it was a supreme secret realm. One that only she held the keys to.
A specific question caught her eye. [Manager, when are the Husky puppies going up for adoption? Please, the suspense is killing me!]
Su Wudeng smiled at the camera. “Since so many of you are asking about the puppies, I’ll go ahead and announce it. How does next Monday sound?”
The chat erupted in celebration.
[YES! Finally!]
[Next Monday! I’m calling out of work!]
[I’m going to spend all weekend praying to the gods of luck!]
As the viewer count continued to surge, Su Wudeng noticed that the vast majority of the comments weren’t about the dogs at all. They were fixated on the background.
[The flowers… the grass… the sky is so incredibly blue!]
[This scenery is breathtaking.]
[Manager, can you do a slow 360 pan? I just want to look at the environment!]
[Wow! Did you guys see that little squirrel in the tree?!]
[And the butterflies! They’re gorgeous!]
An epiphany struck Su Wudeng. The netizens were utterly starved for real, uncorrupted nature!
It made perfect sense. The vast majority of humanity lived in suffocating, steel-and-concrete megacities where even a single potted plant was a luxury. To them, a lush, vibrant forest was practically a mythical paradise. Even she had been stunned to silence the first time she stepped into this era.
I’ve found the ultimate traffic cheat code, she realized, her eyes gleaming with capitalist delight. I need to milk this for all it’s worth!
She offered a bright, welcoming smile to the drone camera. “It seems you’re all very curious about my surroundings! Well then, let me take you on a little tour.”
She began to walk, allowing the camera to smoothly pan across the breathtaking landscape.
Fluffy white clouds drifted lazily across a brilliant azure sky. A gentle breeze swept through the emerald canopy of the ancient trees, the leaves rustling in a soothing, rhythmic whisper. A short distance away, a crystal-clear stream babbled happily over smooth river stones, its surface sparkling like crushed diamonds in the warm sunlight. The riverbanks were carpeted in lush, vibrant green grass, dotted with a kaleidoscope of wildflowers.
In an instant, the viewer count went parabolic.
The chat was a waterfall of pure awe.
[Oh my god… is this real? I’ve never seen a sky that color in my entire life!]
[The trees are actually swaying in the wind! It looks nothing like the synthetic holotrees in the city squares!]
[The green is so vibrant! The grass looks so soft!]
[Look at the butterflies! This is heaven. Literal heaven.]
As the audience marveled at the scenery, Su Wudeng watched her Hope Points skyrocketing in real-time. She was absolutely thrilled.
Her gaze landed on the babbling stream, and a brilliant new idea formed in her mind.
A wilderness cookout!
There were definitely fish in that stream. She could catch a few, build a small campfire on the riverbank, and grill them fresh. The sizzling sound of roasting fish, the mouthwatering aroma, paired with the serene, breathtaking backdrop of pristine nature… it was the ultimate sensory experience!
There was no way her audience would be able to resist that.
Turning back to the camera, Su Wudeng’s smile widened. “Everyone, let’s head down to the stream.”
The camera bobbed gently as she walked down the grassy slope. “If we’re lucky… we might just find some fish in there.”
The moment she said the word ‘fish’, the chat exploded.
[Wait, what?! Real fish?!]
[Oh my god, I’ve only ever seen wild fish in encyclopedias!]
[Wow! Look at how clear the water is!]
