Dream Delivery System: My Delivery Jobs Keep Changing History – CH60

Chapter 60

From the earlier conversation, it was clear:

Wild-collected magical beast eggs varied in quality, the Magical Beast Center’s eggs were too expensive, and although the government issued eggs, the children didn’t even mention them—there must be a reason.

Choosing a magical beast had its tricks. It seemed that in this world, children also faced unique learning frustrations.

“Does the government give every child a magical beast egg? You don’t like them?” Jiang Jitang asked, not answering, but turning the question to the kids.

Sure enough, their attention shifted.

The lead girl, precociously, sighed:

“‘Although it’s kind of the government to give an egg to every child without one, the breeds are too common, and the quality is average. A child’s first magical beast is very important. Only very poor families would wait for the government. You have to bite the bullet and buy a high-quality one.’ That’s what my mom says.”

“My mom says the same,” admitted the other arguing child.

Whether wild-collected or paid-for (“pay-to-win”), no one respected the government-issued eggs. Their quality and variety were mediocre—the absolute last choice.

Jiang Jitang considered it from a different perspective and found it a difficult problem to solve.

First, government finances wouldn’t allow distribution of high-quality, rare eggs. Second, many magical-beast-based corporations would dominate the market, preventing anyone from undercutting them—even a government couldn’t.

Thus, poor children could only try their luck with wild-collected eggs.

Jiang Jitang examined the magical beast egg in his hand with curiosity—this could count as his own “wild collection.”

“Do you recognize this egg?”

The three shook their heads. Jiang Jitang wasn’t disappointed and asked if they had been fishing.

“Not just fishing.”

Excitedly, the children listed their day’s activities. Fishing was only one of many exploits. Within a ten-mile radius, no animal escaped their grasp.

Jiang Jitang recalled how he had once tormented small animals as a child, though with the intent of keeping them.

All mischievous children were the same.

They had caught fish, insects, and small animals, but their real goal was magical beasts. Wild beasts were hard to catch, and magical beast eggs had concealment abilities, making them even harder to find.

Even if they found one, if its quality and breed were ordinary, they would release it—they seemed educated not to harm or discard magical beast eggs.

“We’ve only found insect and grass types. I want a water-type magical beast! Cool and refreshing, and beautiful too.”

“I don’t want that. I want a strength-type. I’ll be the big sister.”

“Heh, I like ghost-type.”

Children in this world were exposed to magical beasts early, knew a lot, and already had dream companions.

“Do you know what water-type magical beasts like?”

The three children were stumped. After thinking for a while, one said they liked eating, one said playing, and one said both.

“…Just eat, drink, and play, huh?”

“Thank you, these are small gifts. Goodbye.” Jiang Jitang gave them the beetles and cicadas he had collected, eliciting “wows” from the children.

He continued along the path, walking and stopping, encountering a few wild magical beasts that clearly differed from ordinary animals. They were alert and avoided humans.

Was this why humans preferred hatching eggs rather than taming wild beasts?

Existing between being and non-being, embodiments of energy?

He stared at the egg in his hand and had a sudden idea: he injected life energy into it. To his surprise, the egg absorbed it like a sponge, its surface glowing faintly.

Soon, the egg responded as if “full.” He stopped and observed carefully.

The once plain white shell now looked like fine jade, with blue-purple stripes gleaming like gemstones.

And it no longer glowed.

Jiang Jitang held it thoughtfully.

He hadn’t finished enjoying the scenery yet, and time was almost up. Only a few minutes remained, and he reached the edge of the farmland.

Nearby was a grove of bamboo, in front of a somewhat dilapidated small house. A boy with a sullen expression was splitting bamboo strips at the door.

His movements were fast and precise; in the blink of an eye, a bamboo stalk was split.

Perhaps Jiang Jitang’s presence was noticeable—the boy looked up, silently, his eyes filled with curiosity.

“Kid, got water?” Jiang Jitang blurted out.

The boy didn’t speak, but turned and poured a cup of water from a bamboo tube.

The water was clean, sweet. The boy scowled slightly, not happy, but his eyes were clear and not impatient.

Though poor, he was diligent and clever—a natural talent hidden beneath simple clothing.

“Ahem.” Jiang Jitang returned the bamboo tube. As the boy prepared to leave, he coughed to get his attention.

“Young man.”

He stopped him, his eyes unusually serious.

“I see you have exceptional bones and talent, a one-in-a-million prodigy at raising magical beasts. Maintaining world peace rests on you. I have a magical beast egg. It is destined for you.”

The boy stared at the egg in Jiang Jitang’s hand, alternating between “this guy’s crazy” and “really? Am I a genius?” He looked up, but Jiang Jitang had already left, disappearing without a trace.

“Ah.” He called out—but realized he couldn’t speak.

Jiang Jitang had a bit of fun and ran off. The egg was delivered; the consequences were none of his concern.

Sitting on the living room sofa, he still reflected. Similar, yet different—not terror, but surprise. Clearly, the magical beast world was a pleasant surprise.

“As a child, I dreamed of having a magical companion, one that could accompany me, communicate, and share emotions. Amazing.” He wished he could do something for his childhood self.

But now it was too early; first, he needed to complete nine tasks.

Five hours for the task, only five minutes in real time. He wasn’t tired. After a brief rest, he went to the backyard.

The water in the stone trough, once murky, was now clear. Sunlight hit the solar panels; water gurgled. Even though there were only artificial plants, it looked vibrant.

“Still missing a few things.”

He rushed out and back, losing eighty yuan, but came back with a pile of water guns.

It was summer—how could there be no water play?

After arranging everything and adjusting decorations, Jiang Jitang looked at the bubble box: “Task submitted!”

The gap between people was greater than between humans and spirits.

Previous wishers had modern appliances at home; this village school had only frosted windows and squeaky wooden doors.

No electricity here.

But the environment was excellent. Small classrooms halfway up the hillside, fed by a spring, surrounded by trees—air filtered by greenery.

The plants grew chaotically, more primitive than any town he’d seen.

“A spring? You didn’t say? I could’ve built a cement shelter for you on site!”

Next to the school, spring water trickled down the rock wall into a bathtub-sized pool, with moss and aquatic plants. Tiny fish and shrimp swam among the leaves.

Why bother with a solar filter? Wasteful.

A wild environment might produce magical beasts more easily. He spotted a few secretly observing beasts—they seemed insect-type and small.

“Finding magical beast eggs must be easier here.”

In such a setting, mountain children had an advantage in finding decent magical beasts—nature’s alternative compensation.

“Hello, who are you looking for?” a voice asked. An elderly woman holding a clay bowl appeared, dressed in wax-dyed ethnic clothing, feeding chickens with husks and bran.

Yes, the village school raised chickens and had a small vegetable garden.

Jiang Jitang didn’t recognize the attire—it seemed unique to this task world, with blue animal-like symbols on natural-colored cloth.

“Grandma, did you issue a task to arrange a water-type magical beast house?”

The grandmother raised her glasses: “Who are you?”

“I accepted the task. Where should I set up the house?”

She was puzzled that he carried nothing. Perhaps the materials hadn’t arrived yet. She nodded and led him to the school’s back entrance.

Passing the classrooms, Jiang Jitang noticed the “glass” windows were a semi-transparent material, like hardened clear gel with many bubbles.

“This is secretion from swamp frogs. Rare in cities, I guess,” she smiled.

“Indeed, rare.” Not present at all.

Behind the school was a black cloth canopy with an outdoor stove and two pots.

“Children heat their food here before returning to class. Magical beasts’ meals are simple; no extra heating needed,” she explained.

Everything seemed novel to Jiang Jitang.

She led him to two wooden “hives,” each containing twenty-some small houses, with glass doors. Inside, the compartments prevented viewing all magical beasts.

“These are insect- and grass-type magical beast houses, used for many years.”

He peered through the glass at a nearby small house; a sleeping magical beast inside.

Most were insect-like, a few plant-like.

By estimating the hive, he calculated 2×8×6 small houses. Even if each child had one beast, the school had fewer than 100 students.

Also, with magical beasts in school, there must be courses needing them. Theory could be in classrooms, practicals too?

“Grandma, no training grounds?” he asked.

She smiled: “The whole mountain is their training ground.”

The whole mountain?

He felt deep respect. He had thought village children lacked resources; now he saw the short-sightedness. Nature itself was a resource, especially in the magical beast world.

“Children from nearby villages study here. These classrooms were recently built. One village is beside a waterfall, where children bring water-type beasts. Each beast has its personality—some enjoy groups, some solitude. So a separate water-type house is needed, already prepared. Teachers are few; they can’t manage it, so we rely on you, heh-heh-heh.”

The grandmother pointed to the stone wall beside the spring.

The location was excellent—not too sunny, not shaded entirely.

“Separate houses are to prevent interference between beasts and children, so they can focus?” Jiang Jitang asked.

She laughed: “Yes, mischievous little ones.”

Satisfied, Jiang Jitang nodded: “Then I’ll put things down.”

In a flash, a three-story stone trough house appeared at the designated spot. Instantly, the solar filter activated; water gurgled over fake lotus leaves and the calm surface.

A beam of light passed through the water, creating a radiant glow.