Chapter 27: Chi You’s Mount, the Iron-Eating Beast!
These flowers are definitely not ordinary decorations!
The thought flashed through Professor Yang’s mind as he stepped inside. He couldn’t resist taking a closer look at a gorgeous blue star flower, gently brushing his fingers against its petals. They were soft, resilient, and damp with fresh dewdrops. A faint scent drifted from the stamens—a purely natural fragrance that synthetic perfumes could never replicate.
How is this possible? he wondered. This store doesn’t just have living pets, but real flora as well?
As he continued deeper into the shop, his gaze landed on a cluster of vibrant green grass. It was the rare Emerald Grass, a species said to have been extinct in the wild for decades. Yet the patch before him was bursting with vitality. The veins on its leaves were starkly visible, glowing with health under the shop’s lighting. With its well-developed root system, Emerald Grass was known for aggressively purifying air and water. Professor Yang suddenly realized why the air inside the store felt so incredibly fresh.
Then, a vine climbing the corner wall made him suck in a sharp breath. A Dragon Blood Vine!
This remarkable plant could boost the immune system and drastically enhance a Beastmaster’s physique. A single cutting could fetch hundreds of thousands of credits. Yet here, it was casually creeping up a wall, its stems and leaves stretched out in a lush, contented sprawl.
It’s no exaggeration to say this place has formed its own micro-ecosystem, Professor Yang thought, utterly stunned.
Just who was this shop owner? What kind of titan backed this establishment? A master ecologist? A forestry expert? It couldn’t be the marine specialists, could it? And the owner herself was just a young girl. Was she the granddaughter of some legendary figure?
Ordinary people couldn’t possibly get their hands on resources like this. Someone incredibly powerful had to be pulling the strings behind the scenes. But he knew all the old veterans in the field, and he hadn’t heard a whisper about anyone achieving such breakthroughs, let alone keeping it a secret. Could it be a hidden hermit? He wracked his brain but came up empty.
His eyes drifted back to the blue star flower. While his specialty was pets, he knew enough about spiritual plants. The main experts were those old geezers at the Agricultural Research Institute. Coincidentally, they had recently shown off a precious blue star flower they had successfully cultivated. They treated it like fragile glass, terrified that a single degree of temperature change or an extra drop of water might kill it. But this one, sitting here without a care in the world, was growing three times as vigorously as the Institute’s prized specimen!
If the researchers over at the Institute saw this, their eyes would pop out of their skulls.
Just seeing these spiritual plants makes this trip worth it! Unable to resist, he tapped his Star Brain and snapped a few pictures. The lens captured the Dragon Blood Vine clinging to the wall, the blue star petals shimmering under the lights, and the crystal water droplets resting on the Emerald Grass.
Heh, those old fools are going to lose their minds when they see this, he chuckled to himself, firing the photos off to his old friends’ group chat.
Before he could even read the replies, a sudden chorus of meowing and barking echoed through the shop.
“Snow Crystal Cats!” Professor Yang gasped, suddenly remembering the real reason he had come.
He followed the sound to a cultivation room. A large pane of transparent glass formed the door, offering a perfectly clear view inside. One look, and he was frozen in awe.
“Oh, my god…”
In the nearest enclosure played a litter of Snow Crystal Cats. Their pristine fur, as white as winter snow, held a soft, healthy glow under the lights. Their gem-like sapphire eyes darted around with bright curiosity as the little kittens tumbled over one another.
“Cub stage… practically newborns,” Yang muttered, his voice trembling with unchecked excitement. “The coat… the luster… Their eyes are so bright. Their growth state is absolutely textbook perfect!”
It was the first time in his life he had ever seen living Snow Crystal Cat cubs. “They’re real. They’re actually real…”
Before he could fully process the cats, his attention was stolen by a pack of energetic, bouncing pups in the next area.
“Round ears, big fluffy tails, and those thick paws… those are definitely Huskies!” he observed. “And they’re entering their transition period. Excellent muscle definition, gleaming coats—they are thriving.”
The Husky pups were far rowdier than the kittens. Fueled by good food and pristine water, they wrestled and chased each other, sending tufts of puppy fuzz flying into the air.
“So much boundless energy. They’ve been incredibly well cared for!” The deeper Professor Yang looked, the more astounded he became.
But it was the innermost enclosure that made him literally gasp for air.
“Baby Iron-Eating Beasts!”
Round, chubby bodies covered in stark black-and-white fur lay huddled together, sound asleep. For infant pets, deep sleep was the key to rapid, healthy growth. The shop owner has really thought of everything.
The three habitats were cleanly separated, maintaining perfect individual environments while remaining visible from the hallway. His professional instincts automatically appraised the three species:
- Snow Crystal Cat: Elite-tier (B-level). Talent unknown. Cub stage.
- Husky: Elite-tier (B-level). Specific breed unknown. Transition period, nearing awakening.
- Iron-Eating Beast: Commander-tier (A-level). Talent to be confirmed. Cub stage.
Professor Yang felt a chill of awe creep down his spine.
Just what kind of monstrous backing does this shop owner have? he thought wildly. The spiritual plants could be explained by a reclusive botanist, but what about these pets? There has to be a terrifyingly powerful faction behind her—maybe even an underground organization we know nothing about!
His gaze shifted back to the Husky pups, and a realization hit him so hard he physically shuddered.
Wait… if these pets are in their critical growth periods… does that mean they can still be contracted?!
His breathing hitched. Oh my god. If that’s true… if these animals can form bonds, and this store continues to introduce new pets… it would upend the entire interstellar society! The golden era of Beastmasters could actually return!
“Hello there. Are you Professor Yang?” a clear, polite voice called out from behind him.
Professor Yang whipped around to see a young woman approaching. Trailing closely at her side was a majestic, powerfully built adult Husky. The canine walked with a steady, confident gait; its eyes were piercingly bright, and its silver-gray coat rippled with a healthy, silky sheen.
Professor Yang’s eyes practically lit up like flares. He lunged toward Amber, his trembling hands hovering in the air as if he desperately wanted to touch the dog but didn’t dare taint it.
“Heavens above, is this… an adult Husky?!” he stammered. “I… my eyes aren’t deceiving me, are they?”
Without waiting for Su Wudeng to reply, Yang leaned in, his eyes shining with manic glee. He framed the dog with his hands. “Look at this coat! The glossiness index is at least a 9.8! The color is immaculate—not a single trace of impurity. A flawless silver-gray! This is textbook perfection!”
Hearing the praise, Amber lifted her chin, radiating canine pride.
Professor Yang didn’t stop there. His frantic gaze locked onto the dog’s eyes. “The irises are a rare ice-blue, and pupillary response is incredibly sharp. And look at these legs! Exceptional muscle definition, perfect structural balance… But the most important detail is that it has reached full adulthood… which means it’s been contracted!”
Su Wudeng blinked in bewilderment. Are all professors this unhinged? He had completely ignored her, analyzing Amber from head to tail. Watching the old man practically try to bury his face in her dog’s fur, she politely cleared her throat.
“Hello, Professor Yang. I am the shop owner, Su Wudeng.”
Startled out of his trance, Professor Yang straightened up with an awkward cough. “Ah, my sincere apologies! Once my research brain takes over, I tend to forget my manners.” Then, the giddy excitement returned to his voice. “But my word, to see such a magnificent specimen in person… this trip was worth its weight in gold!”
Despite holding the title of Director at the Endangered Pet Research Institute, the tragic truth was that his facility didn’t house a single living pet. So much time had passed since the Catastrophe that the public had completely lost faith in conservation research. The consensus was that any surviving pets were better utilized on the frontlines against the Zerg, rather than locked in a lab. Starved of real subjects, the Institute had slowly fallen into decay and irrelevance.
But now, a miracle was sitting right in front of him. Real, breathing, thriving pets! Words could barely capture his elation.
“Manager Su, I have to confess, I should have come here the moment I heard. I was a bit of a skeptic at first, but now I realize I nearly missed the discovery of a lifetime.” He stared intently at Su Wudeng, asking the question that burned brightest in his mind. “Has this Husky… signed a contract with you?”
Before she could even part her lips, he answered his own question. “Its aura… it’s disciplined, yet it retains its primal wildness. That perfect equilibrium is the hallmark of a successful master-pet contract!” He was practically hyperventilating. A living pet, and one that could successfully bond with humanity!
Su Wudeng hadn’t expected the professor to be so perceptive. He had read Amber’s status perfectly in just a few glances. She nodded. “Yes, we have a contract. Her name is Amber.”
Professor Yang looked at her with profound envy and awe. “You are unfathomably lucky. Amber… a wonderful name for a wonderful creature.”
“As far as I’m aware, there was only one Elite-tier pet like Amber enrolled in the entire Beastmaster University last year!” Seeing Su Wudeng’s blank expression regarding the terminology, the professor eagerly elaborated. “To put it simply, back in the Era of Great Prosperity, all pets were classified into five rigid tiers: Ordinary, Elite, Commander, Monarch, and Legendary.
“While the lower tiers are incredibly scarce in the modern interstellar age, they do still pop up. But Monarch and Legendary tiers? I’ve never even heard of one surfacing, let alone seen one. Reaching the Monarch tier essentially makes a pet the undisputed king of its species. And Legendary-tier beasts are just that—creatures of myth and legend.
“However, I do recall that the Ether War Zone possesses a Commander-tier pet, and it has made monumental contributions to the frontlines. So, do you understand how precious Amber is? She is an Elite-tier, sitting just one rank below a Commander! Even the prodigies at Beastmaster University would kill for a companion like her.”
This was the first time Su Wudeng had been introduced to the pet grading system. She hadn’t realized Amber’s classification was so highly regarded. Although, she reasoned, if this were the Era of Great Prosperity, wouldn’t Amber’s pack leader have easily been a Commander-tier? There were surely vast power gaps even within the Elite tier itself. But in the modern age’s devastated ecosystem, Amber was effectively sitting near the top of the food chain!
“You really should register her with the Beastmaster Association when you find the time,” Professor Yang urged. “They maintain a definitive power ranking. Once she’s on it, you’ll truly understand how formidable she is.”
But as he spoke, a shadow of regret crossed his features. Su Wudeng’s heart skipped a beat. “What’s wrong, Professor? Is there something wrong with Amber’s health?”
He nodded slowly. “While Amber is a magnificent specimen, she isn’t entirely without flaws. If I’m not mistaken, she suffered some severe setbacks during her transition period, didn’t she? Her skeletal structure and overall size are a fraction smaller than the historical standard for her breed. We would need a comprehensive scan to pinpoint the exact issue, of course.”
Su Wudeng was thoroughly impressed. Professor Yang was the real deal. The physiological data of extinct species was essentially hard-wired into his brain, allowing him to accurately diagnose a pet with a single glance. He more than lived up to his reputation as a lifelong researcher.
Distressed, she gently stroked Amber’s head. “Nothing gets past you, Professor. It’s true—when Amber was younger, she had a very hard time…”
Seeing her sadden, Professor Yang hurriedly comforted her. “Don’t despair! There is still a chance for Amber to achieve perfect growth.” This was the very first contracted adult Husky he had ever laid eyes on; he absolutely refused to let her live out her days burdened by a developmental defect. “Let’s run a detailed diagnostic on her. If you trust me, I would be honored to oversee her examination.”
Inwardly, the professor sighed. The transition period was the most foundational phase of a pet’s life. Fixing a stunted growth cycle required a massive infusion of incredibly rare spiritual plants. In the old days, that would have been an expensive but manageable prescription. Today, however, high-tier spiritual plants were virtually mythical. They were treasures that no amount of money could buy.
“But if Amber’s foundation can be fully repaired,” Professor Yang said, his voice rising with excitement, “she might even awaken her latent racial talent! Judging by her specific morphology, I believe she is a Swordheart Husky. In the old records, only one in a hundred ever awakened their talent. It requires incredible genetics and no small amount of luck.”
Su Wudeng knew all about pet talents. The primary offensive weapon of a Swordheart Husky was the literal blade-like structure formed on its back. A racial talent allowed them to maximize that deadly potential. The “Swordheart” ability was the absolute pinnacle of their evolutionary tree—so iconic and devastating that this entire genetic branch of Huskies was named after it.
But to Su Wudeng, none of that really mattered. Whether she awakened a mythical power or not, she was still just Amber.
Kneeling down, she cupped the dog’s face. “Amber, go with Sister Huihui to get your checkup, okay? If you’re a good girl, you can have whatever snacks you want afterward.”
Amber’s intelligent eyes sparkled. Woof! It’s a deal! Without missing a beat, the Husky grabbed Huihui by the sleeve and eagerly dragged her toward the medical bay. Yet, in the brief second before Amber turned away, a fleeting look of vulnerability and loneliness flashed in her icy blue eyes.
As Su Wudeng stood back up, she found Professor Yang looking at her with a mixture of sheer excitement and bashful hesitation.
“Could I… would it be alright if I went to see the mother of the Iron-Eating Beasts?”
Heavens knew how desperate he was to verify her existence. An adult female Iron-Eating Beast capable of bearing cubs meant natural pet reproduction was still biologically viable!
Su Wudeng smiled at the jittery academic. “Professor, are you absolutely sure you don’t want to sit down and rest for a moment?”
“Nonsense!” he refused instantly, waving her off. “I am in perfectly good health!”
Su Wudeng felt entirely helpless. The man was practically elderly; she was genuinely terrified he might drop dead from a heart attack in the middle of her shop. That would be a terrible thing to have on her conscience. But given his unyielding insistence, she had no choice but to relent.
“Alright, I’ll take you to see Aihua. But she’s deeply asleep right now, so we have to be completely silent.”
Professor Yang nodded frantically, as if hesitating for even a second would cost him the opportunity of a lifetime.
They tiptoed down the hall. Behind a reinforced glass wall, Aihua the Iron-Eating Beast was sleeping soundly. Professor Yang’s eyes practically glowed in the dim light.
“Perfect… roughly 1.5 meters long, estimated weight of 110 kilograms,” he whispered feverishly. “Distinctly separated black and white fur, glossiness around a 9.5… The muscle density, the structural proportions… Heavens, she is flawless!” His voice quavered with raw emotion. “This is undeniably a pureblood Iron-Eating Beast. The legendary mount of the War God Chi You!”
Su Wudeng glanced over in surprise. “Professor, you actually know the old myths about Chi You’s mount?”
Yang chuckled softly. “When you get to be my age, you end up reading quite a few dusty old books. The earliest mythological origins of the Iron-Eating Beast begin with the War God Chi You. Never let their adorable, clumsy appearance fool you. They are biologically bears. Just looking at that massive, dense frame tells you how terrifyingly powerful they truly are.
“But what truly sets them apart is that Iron-Eating Beasts are the darlings of the heavens. Other species require sheer luck and rare catalysts to awaken a racial talent. But Iron-Eating Beasts? Nearly every single one of them awakens a specialized ability naturally. According to the ancient texts, their most common talent is the ‘Power of Bamboo.’ It is a perfectly balanced art of offense and defense. They can instantly summon bamboo thickets to form an indestructible shield, or manipulate it as a lethal long-range weapon. Pair that with their inherent physical durability, and they are virtually invincible among pets of their own tier.”
His gaze lingered on the slumbering giant, a flash of regret in his eyes. “It’s a shame she’s comatose and can’t undergo a proper physical evaluation. I would have given anything to analyze her specific talent. She’s a Commander-tier beast… Honestly, the only creature in the galaxy that can hold a candle to her is the one stationed in the Ether War Zone.”
A heavy worry settled over the professor’s face. “Manager Su, you must tread very carefully. Possessing a beast of this caliber means that all the major military zones will be extending ‘olive branches’ to you very soon. They’re likely only holding back right now because they aren’t entirely sure if she can recover, or what her exact power level is. Or, they’re currently tied up in bureaucratic red tape deciding how to approach you.”
Su Wudeng suddenly realized the gravity of her situation. Her lack of formal education in interstellar politics was a glaring blind spot. If she had met Professor Yang earlier, she would have understood the danger of exposing a Commander-tier pet. But by sheer, dumb luck, she had already established a working connection with the Ether War Zone.
She considered her cards for a moment, then looked at the anxious old man. “Don’t worry, Professor,” she reassured him calmly. “I already have a solution in place.”
Professor Yang’s jaw nearly hit the floor. Just who is backing this girl?! A faction powerful enough to stonewall multiple military war zones? If the impossible flora and fauna had merely shocked him, he was now crossing the threshold into total, unfeeling numbness. The girl standing before him had to be a titan in disguise!
Unfazed, Su Wudeng pulled up Aihua’s medical logs on a datapad. “Since you’re here, Professor, could you take a look at Aihua’s current condition?”
Yang snatched the tablet impatiently. But as he scrolled through the biological telemetry, his face went pale.
“This creature… is a living miracle,” he whispered. “To have survived this trauma… she must have passively triggered a high-level innate skill. These readings are defying medical logic. If you dropped her onto the Zerg frontlines right now, she’d crush them single-handedly!”
But the manic joy quickly faded into a heavy sigh. “However, her origin core has been critically wounded. Her physical flesh has healed, but the foundation of her life force is shattered. For her to make a full recovery…” He frowned, his professional confidence wavering. “I can’t be completely certain, as my field is largely theoretical these days. But… theoretically speaking, spiritual plants are universally compatible with pet biology. If we could somehow procure a few top-tier, legendary spiritual plants, there might be a sliver of hope.”
He rattled off a few names from memory. “The ‘Jiuxiao Cloud Fungus’ is recorded to completely repair origin damage, while ‘Dragon Blood Ginseng’ can drastically replenish lost vitality…” He trailed off, shaking his head bitterly. “It’s a moot point. Those plants have been extinct for centuries.”
Su Wudeng’s heart leapt. Extinct in this era, perhaps. But they certainly weren’t extinct back in the Era of Great Prosperity! Which meant that both Amber and Aihua had a genuine path to a complete, perfect recovery.
Ignorant of her internal epiphany, Professor Yang continued to lament. “Forget legendary herbs, even mid-tier spiritual plants are impossible to find. Those blockheads at the Agricultural Research Institute haven’t produced anything of true value in decades. Quite frankly, their life’s work doesn’t even compare to the decorative potted plants in your lobby!”
His eyes swam with complex, overwhelming emotions. In the span of a single afternoon, his entire worldview had been violently upended. He was half-convinced he had time-traveled back to the golden age of Beastmasters. If not, then what happened to the apocalyptic ecological crisis everyone was always crying about? Why was this random pet shop overflowing with extinct biodiversity? Was the apocalypse just a massive prank specifically designed to torment him?! He didn’t even want to think about what this store would look like in a few months. Would it evolve into a full-blown planetary biosphere? Just where on earth did this girl come from?
A sudden surge of inspiration hit the old man. Thanks to the near-extinction of pets, the public’s understanding of them had eroded into myth and apathy. But Manager Su had just handed him a blazing torch of hope for their resurgence. Could he use this miraculous shop to reawaken humanity’s lost connection with the animal kingdom?
A bold, brilliant idea took root in his mind: he would write a series of accessible, high-profile science posts. Every time Manager Su introduced a new pet, he would publish a comprehensive breakdown of its history, biology, and potential, re-educating the masses! The more he chewed on the idea, the more flawless it seemed.
He would start with the Iron-Eating Beast. But how could he guarantee people would actually read it? In this modern era that worshipped raw martial strength, the only way to hook the public was to highlight the beast’s devastating combat potential.
A sly smile spread across Professor Yang’s wrinkled face. What could be more click-worthy than leaning into its mythological roots? The legendary mount of the War God himself. A title like that was pure bait—nobody scrolling past could resist clicking on it.
Decision made, he drafted the title in his head: “Chi You’s Mount: The Iron-Eating Beast!”
