Chapter 1
“Base Twenty-Three, Lin Yu.”
“Present!”
“Zhang Jiang.”
“Present!”
“…”
Inside the passenger cabin of the spacecraft, an officer at the front row was conducting a roll call. One by one, those whose names were called stood up promptly, packed their belongings, and stepped forward to salute the officer. They then stood neatly to the side, awaiting further instructions.
At the back of the cabin, near the window, a slim figure sat quietly. With his eyes half-closed, a few strands of dark bangs fell across his forehead, their hue turning a translucent amber under the sunlight. Unlike the tense anticipation of others waiting in the cabin, this corner felt tranquil and relaxed, almost out of place amidst the surrounding tension.
The officer noticed this corner but only frowned slightly without commenting further.
Finally, as the recruits from the previous base left with their leader, the officer started a new round of roll call.
“Base Twenty-Four, Su Ci.”
“Su Ci?”
“Is Su Ci from Base Twenty-Four absent?”
*
Su Ci woke up from a nightmare to hear an incessant buzzing in his ears. Annoyed, he furrowed his brows and opened his eyes reluctantly.
The moment his eyes opened, a flash of icy gold flickered in his dark pupils. However, as he took in his surroundings, the golden hue faded quickly, replaced by their usual warm, harmless black.
He looked around, puzzled by the unfamiliar environment.
The passenger cabin.
The concept formed in his mind—he was inside the passenger cabin of a spacecraft.
“Apprentice caretaker Su Ci, step forward!”
The voice that had awakened him called out again, this time louder. Su Ci finally caught the mention of his name.
Apprentice caretaker? What’s that?
Before he could recall any explanation of the term, someone beside him nudged his arm.
He turned to see a young man with short brown hair sitting beside him. In a lowered voice, the youth said, “Still half-asleep? The officer’s calling you. What are you standing around for?”
Officer?
A military term used by the human race?
Frowning slightly, Su Ci swept his gaze over the so-called passenger cabin. Before he could make sense of his situation, the young man next to him had grabbed his arm and raised it for him.
The chatter in the cabin, speculating about Su Ci’s absence and his audacity to offend the officer, immediately ceased.
All eyes turned toward Su Ci.
Su Ci glanced down at the hand gripping his arm, then back at his own raised hand, looking somewhat surprised. The brown-haired youth, however, stood up smoothly, pulled Su Ci into the aisle, and retrieved a backpack from the overhead compartment, shoving it into his hands.
“Off you go. I’m in Base Twenty-Six. Let’s keep in touch!” he said with a grin, showing a row of pristine white teeth.
Su Ci hesitated but nodded, clutching the backpack as he made his way toward the front of the cabin.
The recruits he passed followed him with their eyes. He couldn’t escape their scrutiny.
No wonder. Among the hundred-odd remaining in the cabin, every single one—male or female—was robust, muscular, and exuded a trained and disciplined aura. Even the female soldiers looked strong and capable.
By contrast, the newly standing apprentice caretaker was slender, almost delicate. His features were strikingly beautiful, his skin an almost translucent white, with faint veins visible underneath. He seemed to glow, as if he were made of light.
It was like watching a lamb walk into a den of wolves.
“A caretaker? Like the ones who raise cubs?”
“Probably. Isn’t there a cub-rearing center on Prison Star?”
“Tch, look at those spindly arms and legs. How’s he supposed to manage cubs? That’s hard labor!”
“Exactly! My parents had another cub behind my back and made me look after it during leave. It was exhausting.”
“Yeah, cubs are a handful.”
As the recruits discussed their own grievances, the topic shifted back to Su Ci.
“Judging by his looks, he must be for psychological counseling.”
“That makes sense. I heard everyone who serves on Prison Star needs counseling after. Some even go insane and can’t be cured.”
A collective shudder went through the group, but their whispering ceased abruptly—
“Silence!”
The officer coughed loudly. The chattering recruits quickly quieted, sitting upright with eyes fixed ahead.
The officer looked Su Ci over as he reached the front, then checked the details on his electronic clipboard several times.
Name: Su Ci
Age: 23
Base: Twenty-Four
Institution: Cub-Rearing Facility
Position: Apprentice Caretaker
After confirming the details, the officer checked a box on Su Ci’s form and gestured toward a man in an orange-yellow uniform standing beside him.
The man appeared to be in his late twenties, with a similar buzz cut to the youth earlier, but slightly longer. His sharp features and deep eye bags gave him a weary look, hinting at sleepless nights.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with muscles bulging beneath his uniform. Standing in front of him, Su Ci seemed even more slender and frail by comparison.
“Here he is. Take him.”
The officer handed the electronic clipboard to the man.
The man didn’t say much. He signed his name—Shi Yijiang—with a swift stroke and then turned his gaze to Su Ci.
He seemed slightly surprised by Su Ci’s delicate frame but didn’t comment. Instead, he introduced himself, “I’m Shi Yijiang. Come with me; we’re heading back to the base.”
Then, without waiting for a response, Shi Yijiang exited the cabin.
Su Ci hesitated for a moment and glanced back at the cabin. The brown-haired youth from earlier was waving at him enthusiastically, pointing repeatedly to something on his wrist.
Lowering his head, Su Ci noticed a similar device on his own wrist—a communicator. A flood of information about it surged into his mind: the device was not just for communication but also supported internet access, identification, and other functions.
Internet? What’s that?
“Su Ci, keep up,” Shi Yijiang called back impatiently.
Despite the countless questions in his mind, Su Ci let them go for now and followed him out of the cabin.
They entered a long corridor flanked by gleaming silver-white metallic walls, embedded with bright white lamps. The architectural style was unlike anything Su Ci had ever seen.
Deep in thought, he walked behind Shi Yijiang and eventually stepped out of the spacecraft.
The space outside was even brighter.
The sky above was covered by a vast metallic dome. Beneath the hemispherical structure, dozens of spacecraft and starships of various designs were docked. Their metallic hulls glinted faintly under the lights.
Countless robots, large and small, moved in orderly lines, busily transporting cargo. They filled both the ground and the sky in a scene that was grand yet meticulously organized.
Su Ci was now certain—this was a civilization he had never encountered before. Moreover, he had awoken here with a new identity thrust upon him.
In all his long years, nothing like this had ever happened.
Fascinating!
The thrill of confronting the unknown sparked within him—something he hadn’t felt in countless years. Instead of panic, Su Ci was filled with anticipation. He decided to play along with this new identity to gather more information.
After all, he had assumed many roles during his wanderings among humans.
“Our ship’s over here,” Shi Yijiang said.
Su Ci, carrying his backpack, followed him. They walked to a secluded corner beneath the dome.
There, a small, battered spacecraft was docked, labeled with the number 245h.
Compared to the other sleek and elegant vessels, this one looked particularly shabby and underfunded.
Robots were busily moving crates beside the ship. A beam of light scanned the cargo, making each crate disappear as it was processed.
By the time Shi Yijiang and Su Ci arrived, the robots had just finished loading the last batch.
Beep beep—
A virtual screen appeared in front of Shi Yijiang, accompanied by a synthesized electronic voice. “Supply delivery for Base Twenty-Four has been completed. Please confirm the receipt.”
After signing off, Shi Yijiang led Su Ci closer to the ship. The beam of light scanned them both, and they vanished from sight.
Su Ci felt a brief flicker of disorientation before finding himself inside the ship.
A teleportation array? He glanced at the circular platform beneath his feet but quickly dismissed the thought—it didn’t feel quite the same.
“The trip from the supply station to the base will take about two hours. We should be back before nightfall,” Shi Yijiang said, leading him into the control room. “Take this seat.”
Su Ci sat down, and an automated safety belt extended, fastening around his waist.
Shi Yijiang activated the ship’s autopilot. As the craft took off, the dome above slowly parted, revealing the outside world.
The sight startled Su Ci.
Instead of blue skies and white clouds, a dull red haze filled the atmosphere. The oppressive, stifling sight bore down like a weight on the chest.
Looking down from the ship, he saw faint crisscrossing ravines etched across the land below, resembling desiccated riverbeds. The ground was cracked, barren, and lifeless.
The entire landscape exuded despair and deathly stillness. It seemed to cry out in pain and grievance. Su Ci’s gaze darkened.
“The earth…”
He spoke for the first time since waking, his voice soft yet firm. “What has happened to it?”
His tone, though gentle and calm, carried an unmistakable weight. It was like the silence before a storm—ominous and commanding attention.
Shi Yijiang, already tense since leaving the supply station, felt his nerves tighten further. He brushed off the odd pressure as his own stress, reasoning that this fragile newcomer couldn’t possibly pose a threat.
Taking a deep breath, Shi Yijiang said quietly, “This is just how Prison Star is… Don’t worry. As long as we’re back at the base before dark, we’ll be fine.”
Su Ci didn’t respond. His gaze remained fixed on the desolate land below, his brow deeply furrowed.
Why has the earth become like this? Could it be related to my new identity?
Suppressing the turbulence in his heart, Su Ci resolved to uncover the truth himself. He knew the human beside him wouldn’t have the answers. If he wanted to understand what had happened during his slumber, he would have to explore on his own.
*
The spacecraft cruised smoothly through the air, and after approximately two hours, they arrived safely at Base Twenty-Four.
Along the way, apart from the occasional sight of one or two sprawling, city-like bases, the landscape was largely barren and desolate, with few signs of active life.
Compared to other bases, which were densely packed with buildings, Base Twenty-Four was noticeably smaller and exuded an air of poverty.
After disembarking from the spacecraft, they went straight into a building. Passing through a series of scans by the AI core, they made their way into a large hall.
“This is the first floor of the logistics department,” Shi Yijiang explained, leading Su Ci to a counter. “Where’s your ID card?”
ID card?
Tentatively, Su Ci reached into his jacket pocket and found a card along with a small button-like object.
“A new model spatial button? You must be pretty loaded,” Shi Yijiang remarked with a touch of envy as he took the card and swiped it through a slot next to the counter. Su Ci’s name appeared on the screen.
[Identity Verified: Apprentice Caretaker Su Ci from the Cub-Rearing Facility]
[Allocating Supplies…]
[Allocation Complete]
The previously closed counter opened, and a stack of clothing was handed out.
“This is your uniform—two sets. If it gets damaged, you can exchange it here at the logistics department, but it’ll cost you points. It’s expensive, so be careful.”
Unlike Shi Yijiang’s orange-yellow uniform, Su Ci’s was a grayish-blue, and on top of the stack was a nameplate engraved with “Su Ci.”
Besides the uniforms, there was also a box.
“This box contains nutrient fluids—three tubes per day, enough for a week.” Shi Yijiang patted the box. “You can come here every week to collect your supply by swiping your ID card, just like now. Alternatively, you can have it delivered by an intelligent robot, but that’ll cost you one point each time.”
Su Ci blinked, his gaze fixed on the box, and then asked his second question since waking up:
“Nutrient fluids? For eating?”
His evident excitement made Shi Yijiang give him a second look before nodding. “Yes. Now pack up your things, and then we’ll head to the administration office to finalize your employment.”
Hearing that it was indeed food, Su Ci’s eyes lit up.
He glanced down at the spatial button in his hand. How do I pack it up?
The moment the question formed in his mind, the method for using the spatial button appeared in his thoughts.
Similar to a spirit pouch, huh?
Placing his hand over the uniform, he focused, and the uniform vanished from the counter. He repeated the process with the box of nutrient fluids and his backpack, storing them neatly in the button.
The administration office was in another building. Once they arrived, Shi Yijiang left Su Ci on his own.
The person handling Su Ci’s onboarding was a woman with impeccably styled hair and black-rimmed glasses. Her name was Guo Hui, and her demeanor was stern. Upon seeing Su Ci, she frowned slightly.
“Su Ci, is it?”
She scanned through the information on her electronic clipboard and said, “Based on your resume and physical condition, you don’t actually meet our hiring requirements. However, given your military academy background and your certification in cub psychology, we decided to give you a chance.”
“In terms of benefits, the compensation package offered by the cub-rearing facility is among the best in the Alliance.”
“After your apprenticeship period, your salary will increase. Based on your performance, you’ll also be eligible for year-end bonuses. I hope you’ll value this opportunity and make the most of it.”
Su Ci nodded absentmindedly to show he understood, though his thoughts were elsewhere—specifically, on the box of nutrient fluids stored in his spatial button.
He was just a little hungry. Okay, maybe a lot. Time to eat soon, please.
Fortunately, Guo Hui didn’t make things difficult for him. She efficiently completed Su Ci’s onboarding and explained some key points he needed to note. Finally, she handed him a book about the thickness of a thumb.
Su Ci glanced at the cover, which read in large letters: <Caretaker’s Manual.>
The material of the book was different from the paper he remembered—softer yet more durable. He didn’t think much of it and casually stored it in his spatial button.
“There’s a monthly evaluation at the end of each month,” Guo Hui explained. “The first evaluation will be a written test, with questions based on this manual. You need to memorize its contents and follow its guidance when caring for the cubs. Understood?”
Su Ci nodded.
Guo Hui paused for a moment before continuing, “We’re short-staffed at this base. Right now, the cub-rearing facility only has you as an apprentice caretaker. You’ll need to work hard.”
As she spoke, she operated her electronic clipboard. Shortly afterward, a robot floated into the room—it hovered just above the ground, moving with remarkable speed.
“Service Robot 4586 at your service!”
The robot’s voice was remarkably human-like, warm, cheerful, and full of energy.
“This is the nanny robot assigned to the cub-rearing facility. It will assist you in taking care of the cubs and provide your job training. You can ask it about anything you don’t understand,” Guo Hui explained.
“Do your best at work. During your apprenticeship, inspectors will monitor your performance, and their observations will influence your final evaluation results.”
“Now then, I wish you success in your new role.”
With that, she waved her hand, signaling the robot to lead Su Ci to the cub-rearing facility.
*
After Su Ci and the robot left, a colleague sitting at the workstation beside Guo Hui spoke up.
“The cub-rearing facility has gone through over forty nanny robots this year, hasn’t it? Those little monsters really treat them like toys.”
“Yeah,” Guo Hui replied, rubbing her temples with a pained expression. “Let’s hope this Su Ci lasts a few days longer than the others.”
Since the establishment of the Prison Star’s cub-rearing facility, no caretaker had successfully completed the three-month probationary period. Guo Hui could only hope Su Ci would endure a little longer—
At least until they could hire the next caretaker.
