Chapter 191
After transforming into their human forms for a dozen or so days, the three cubs had learned common forms of address such as “Papa,” “Uncle,” “Aunt,” “Brother,” and “Little Brother.” Their way of speaking wasn’t much different from how they called “Papa.” The oldest was the most steady; he would only speak when necessary. The youngest spoke a little slower, pronouncing each word deliberately. The middle, however, was unique—he could repeat a single term endlessly.
Before long, repeating simple addresses was no longer enough for the middle. Just as Bai Tu had predicted, he began expanding his vocabulary and combining words, resulting in all sorts of strange and unexpected phrases.
For instance, when addressing Uncle Lang Ze, the middle would add countless prefixes before the name—ranging from “bad,” “dumb,” “idiot,” to “stinky”… In the end, all the words that Lang Ze had painstakingly taught him ended up being used against Lang Ze himself.
It was unclear whether it was because Lang Ze had been the one to teach him these words, but the middle only targeted the Lang Qi and Lang Ze brothers. When addressing others, he would use different prefixes, but for these two, he used exactly what he had learned from Lang Ze.
Thus, Lang Ze, in an act of self-sabotage, unintentionally delivered a blow to Lang Qi while suffering an even greater loss himself. Lang Qi remained completely unscathed, while Lang Ze had to brace himself for a new nickname every day.
Although being repeatedly given ridiculous names by the middle was quite miserable, no one felt sorry for Lang Ze—not even Bai Tu. After all, he had brought this upon himself.
The joy he had felt while teaching the cubs had now turned into pure regret.
Even so, Lang Ze’s favorite cub was still the middle. Bai Tu figured this was simply a case of “like attracts like.”
As the cubs became more familiar with different terms of address, the weather grew warmer.
Bai Tu adjusted the cubs’ school enrollment schedule. Every year, after the rainy season, a new batch of cubs would enter school and begin their academic life. This meant there were still four months before the cubs would start school.
Completely unaware that their carefree days were coming to an end, the three cubs found it amusing to watch Lang Ying struggle and resist going to school every morning.
Of course, no matter how much Lang Ying whined, he still had to go. Bai Tu ignored his fake cries, dressed him in his school clothes, and handed him the breakfast that Lang Qi had prepared.
After eating, Bai Tu wiped his mouth clean, and then Lang Qi took him to school.
Once at school, Lang Ying was a completely different cub. Having been in human form for three years, he was already quite sensible. Though he still wanted to cling to his father, outside the home, he played the role of a mature child. In his class, he was unquestionably the leader.
Lang Sui and Lang Ying were the same age as their classmates, so leadership was determined by strength. The cubs’ fights weren’t just for fun—they were a way to establish hierarchy. At first, Lang Sui and Lang Ying didn’t win often, but with experience, they gradually mastered their fighting techniques. Now, they rarely got hurt, and even scratches were uncommon because they knew that even the smallest injury would make their father worry.
Bai Tu had no idea that the cubs had been training hard just to avoid making him worry. With the arrival of spring, he became busy again. His first priorities were building a school and establishing a transit hub in the Southern Continent.
Construction materials were limited, so they had to be used wisely. The school was essential to ensure the cubs could attend school nearby, while the Southern Continent’s transit hub was a high-priority request from the Iron Elephant Tribe. These two projects were at the top of the list, while other, less urgent locations had to wait.
However, Bai Tu underestimated the speed at which news spread across the Beast God Continent. Usually, minor tribal affairs were slow to circulate because troubled tribes preferred to keep their struggles hidden. But establishing a logistics hub was a different matter entirely.
Everyone wanted their neighboring tribes to know that their own tribe was now under the jurisdiction of the Hundred Beasts Tribe! By extension, this meant they were also part of the Hundred Beasts Tribe!
Whether or not they were officially part of the Hundred Beasts Tribe was still up for debate, but one thing was certain: as long as there was a transit hub nearby, their quality of life improved significantly. This was true for both small tribes of a few dozen people and medium-sized tribes with several hundred members. Their standard of living was far better than that of tribes without a transit hub.
The most noticeable change was in tribes that had previously struggled with food shortages. Now, they no longer had to worry about food, as the Hundred Beasts Tribe had provided them with job opportunities.
For example, they could work in sorting, organizing food sent by other tribes based on size to make processing easier for the transit hubs or the Hundred Beasts Tribe’s beastmen.
Another option was livestock farming. The transit hubs followed the same dietary standards as the Hundred Beasts Tribe, meaning they couldn’t rely solely on food delivered from other tribes—they needed fresh supplies as well. Therefore, each transit hub had a designated livestock farming area, even larger than those of the surrounding tribes. Since the Hundred Beasts Tribe didn’t have enough manpower to handle everything, they delegated low-skill tasks to nearby tribes. The wages for livestock farming were similar to those for sorting work.
Additionally, cubs who had spent some time studying in the Hundred Beasts Tribe could now assist with simple record-keeping tasks. Though they earned fewer points compared to physically demanding jobs, they could still exchange their earnings for a decent amount of food.
If a tribe couldn’t catch enough prey, its members could work at a transit hub to earn points, which they could then use to obtain animal cubs for breeding back in their own tribe. Food sources such as chickens, ducks, and geese, which could be hatched, were sold at particularly low prices—working just a few days could earn them dozens of birds.
Since many of these tribes had small populations, Bai Tu believed that building a separate livestock farm for each one would be inefficient and impractical. After all, some tribes only had 30 to 40 members, including the elderly and children. It wouldn’t make sense for them to raise hundreds of animals. At the same time, if the farms were too small, the effort spent on construction wouldn’t be worth it. Therefore, small tribes shared a single livestock farm among multiple neighboring tribes.
Smaller populations also meant smaller territories. A centralized location was chosen between several tribes for the livestock farm, with a few members from each tribe assigned to guard it while the others continued hunting or gathering.
In the end, there were actually more people stationed around the livestock farm than when each tribe had its own, making it safer. After all, wandering beastmen preferred easy targets—when faced with larger numbers, they were less likely to attack.
After a full year of operations, coupled with the food and seeds borrowed earlier from the Hundred Beasts Tribe, small tribes no longer had to worry about food shortages. While they hadn’t reached the level of the Hundred Beasts Tribe, where food was abundant and warehouses were overflowing, at least they no longer feared starvation. Even in winter, they could survive through their own efforts.
As for the remaining debts, tribe members carefully calculated their repayment schedules. They still had one year left to pay off their food debts, and expenses for the livestock farms only needed to be cleared within two years after that. This gave them a total of three years—more than enough time.
Seeing the transformation in their tribes, many realized that even if they had to repay their debts for a few more years, it would still be worth it. After all, even after repaying their debts, they still had more food left than they ever managed to hunt in previous years.
Moreover, with the transit hub in place, they no longer had to trade for salt at exorbitant prices or travel long distances to the market. The time saved could instead be spent working at the transit hub, earning even more food in return.
Larger tribes near the transit hubs had also undergone significant changes. Beastmen there had started learning how to cultivate crops and experiment with new cooking methods.
Their daily concerns had shifted from merely filling their stomachs to seeking out tastier food. Canned goods, dried meat, and other flavorful foods were mostly taken by tribes with surplus supplies. With their food security ensured, they no longer worried about survival—instead, they wanted more variety and better-tasting meals.
While the adult beastmen enjoyed their newfound culinary experiences, they didn’t forget about their cubs. They sent their young ones en masse to the Hundred Beasts Tribe, ensuring that they had everything they needed. As for food and necessities? They would provide as much as needed—whatever it took to keep their cubs comfortable.
Over the past year, the mindset of these tribes had shifted. In the past, they would only seek trade when traveling beastmen from the Yellow Monkey Tribe arrived. Now, they took the initiative to visit the transit hub themselves. Since it wasn’t far, they would regularly check for new food items, eager to trade for them before the guards at the hub ate them all.
In short, everyone was becoming increasingly greedy for better food.
The drastic changes in the Eastern Continent hadn’t gone unnoticed by beastmen from other regions. Whenever they visited other tribes, they would casually mention the improvements. Gradually, even tribes from distant lands began to hear the name “Hundred Beasts Tribe” more and more frequently.
Although the Western Continent did not have any transit hubs, its proximity to the Eastern Continent allowed tribes near the border to trade for supplies. When speaking with tribes further inland, they couldn’t help but boast about their advantages.
The Northern Continent had fewer tribes and was the most resource-scarce region. Some tribes, upon hearing about the lifestyle in the Hundred Beasts Tribe, were so envious they were left speechless.
On the Southern Continent, most tribes bordering the Black Hawk Tribe had at least heard of the Hundred Beasts Express. Though they didn’t fully understand what it was, the transformation of the Black Hawk Tribe was undeniable.
With so many tribes experiencing rapid change, those without a transit hub nearby began to imagine what life would be like if they had one. The more they thought about it, the more they realized that having a transit hub would improve their lives significantly.
Beastmen were straightforward and impatient. They spoke their minds, and soon, a common scene emerged in many tribes—urging their leaders to contact the Hundred Beasts Tribe to establish a transit hub.
Hearing these requests, some tribal leaders agreed to give it a try, while others dismissed the idea outright.
“What’s so great about a transit hub? What supplies can’t we get at the market? It’s no different from a trade post—it’s just something hastily put together. If they build settlements near our territory, what if they try to take over our land?”
“The quality of goods at a transit hub can’t possibly match the market. The best supplies are surely exchanged for salt. What’s left at the hub won’t be worth it…”
There were all kinds of opinions, yet the number of tribes applying to have a transit hub built nearby continued to grow.
Of course, Bai Tu couldn’t approve every request. Some tribes were located in remote areas with barely one or two neighboring settlements. In such places, delivering supplies directly was more cost-effective than building a transit hub, which would be an unnecessary expense—enough to cover deliveries for decades. Maybe in the future, when resources were more abundant, they could reconsider building in such areas. But for now, with material shortages and a surge in applications, priority was given to regions with multiple nearby tribes and relative peace.
Since the Beast God Continent lacked a unified written language, different tribes had their own ways of spreading messages. Some tribes visited Bai Tu directly, others asked allied tribes familiar with the Hundred Beasts Tribe for help, and some simply observed the transit hubs in operation.
The first two groups hoped to have a transit hub built near their own tribes, while the last group was considering establishing one themselves.
A significant number of beastmen entertained this idea. After surveying the situation with Lang Ze squad, Lang Qian reported back to Bai Tu.
After a moment’s thought, Bai Tu said, “That’s fine. If any tribe wants to build its own transit hub, let them observe as much as they like.” If some tribes were willing to establish transit hubs in distant areas, that would be beneficial. After all, their manpower was limited. Even with the help of neighboring tribes, it was impossible to cover the entire Beast God Continent on their own.
With this in mind, Bai Tu continued speaking to Lang Qian, “Next time you encounter tribes with this idea, ask if they’re interested in cooperation. If they are, bring them back to discuss it.”
“Cooperation?” Lang Qian was puzzled. Wouldn’t that mean competing with their own tribe?
Bai Tu explained, “If a tribe is capable of building its own transit hub, it must have a sizable population, right?”
Lang Qian nodded. Indeed, the tribes interested in setting up their own transit hubs were all relatively large, which was why they wanted to learn from the Hundred Beasts Tribe.
“More people—that’s exactly what we need. We can teach them management techniques and help with the initial construction. They can handle the daily operations, and in return, they pay us an annual fee or trade resources with us. This way, we don’t need to station our own people there.”
At their own transit hubs, they not only needed staff to keep records and negotiate trades but also had to assign guards to protect food supplies. Security couldn’t be entirely entrusted to other tribes—no matter how reliable the neighboring tribes seemed, they still needed to contribute their own people.
By adopting a cooperative franchise model, larger tribes could set up transit hubs in more distant locations. This would reduce the workload for the Hundred Beasts Tribe. Since these hubs would be far away, there was no risk of sudden hostilities. The tribes managing those hubs would be responsible for their own security. The Hundred Beasts Tribe would only provide technical guidance and initial construction, while these cooperative hubs could trade goods and supply valuable resources in return.
No single tribe, no matter how strong, could manage everything alone. Having tribes willing to establish their own transit hubs would make things much easier.
As Lang Qian listened to Bai Tu analyze the pros and cons, he began to consider the benefits this plan would bring to the tribe. The first thing that came to his mind was patrol duties. Currently, they only patrolled the few nearby transit hubs, and even without returning in between, it still took the young wolves nearly a month to complete a full circuit. If the number of transit hubs increased in the future, patrols would take even longer.
And once the other continents established their own hubs, patrols wouldn’t be as simple as just making rounds anymore. The routes would extend even farther, and completing a circuit in three months would already be considered fast. Since they could only travel for a few months each year, if everything relied solely on the Hundred Beasts Tribe, they might end up only being able to travel once every six months—each journey taking half a year.
Reporting from distant locations would also be inconvenient. Even just traveling from the Hundred Beasts Tribe to the eastern edge of the continent took anywhere from five to ten days, sometimes even longer. And that was just reaching the continent’s edge—finding the actual transit hubs would take even more time.
If they entrusted this task to tribes already interested in the idea, it would solve two problems at once: they wouldn’t have to worry about these tribes establishing competing transit hubs near the Hundred Beasts Tribe, and they would also gain help in reaching more distant regions.
Having figured all this out, Lang Qian hurriedly asked, “So next time I encounter such tribes, should I contact them?”
Bai Tu nodded. “Yes, take the initiative to negotiate. Our tribe will provide as much support as possible.” These tribes would have to decide for themselves—either accept the Hundred Beasts Tribe’s assistance in expanding into farther regions, or cluster around the Hundred Beasts Tribe as competitors. Bai Tu was confident they would recognize which choice was in their best interest.
Lang Qian couldn’t sit still anymore. “I’ll go call Lang Ze.”
Since they were going to work with these tribes, he wanted to start as soon as possible. If they delayed, some of these tribes might decide to build near the Hundred Beasts Tribe instead, turning into competitors rather than partners. When it came to such important matters, acting early was always better than acting late. The sooner they reached out, the fewer competitors they would have and the more allies they could gain.
At that moment, Lang Ze was busy playing with the middle. Though he had many nephews, his favorite was still the middle. Even though the middle had recently started calling him “stupid uncle” all the time, Lang Ze was delighted. So what if he was called that? At least the little one remembered everything he taught him. For that reason alone, he didn’t mind being teased—it was proof that the middle was close to him!
When he heard Lang Qian calling him to set out, Lang Ze immediately clung to the middle. “I’m not going! I don’t want to go out! I want to stay and play with the middle.”
Lang Qian: “…”
Bai Tu: “…”
Bai Tu sighed, “Can’t you just finish your work and come back to play with the middle later?” He sounded like he was about to be separated for life.
“No! If I leave, Er Bao might forget me.” Just imagining the middle calling someone else “stupid uncle” made Lang Ze’s heart ache.
That nickname, which was uniquely his, might soon belong to someone else.
Bai Tu: “…” In all his years, this was the first time he’d seen someone so proud of being called “stupid uncle.”
Lang Ze clung tightly to the middle.
Bai Tu and Lang Qian were speechless. They looked at each other—Lang Ze really was acting more and more like the middle.
