IBO – Chapter 12 The Origin of Everything

This novel contains sensitive and taboo content like R*pe, Mu**er etc. Read only if you are comfortable.

After finishing the longevity noodles, Song Yiran began preparing lunch boxes for noon. He planned to take Song Buli out to have some fun today and come back in the evening.

Watching Song Buli happily playing on the slide in the courtyard, Song Yiran felt even more motivated.

He wanted to make more delicious food and raise Song Buli to be strong and sturdy.

At that moment, Song Buli suddenly felt a chill on his back and sneezed. “Ah-choo!”

He didn’t pay it any mind and continued playing on the slide. He had been thinking too much these past few days and hadn’t properly enjoyed the slide even once. Now that those worries were gone, he intended to make up for all the missed fun.

At this point, little Song Buli still had no idea that he was about to enter a life of being fed like a bottomless food bucket.

Meanwhile, in a small park about a hundred meters away from the childcare center, someone was “plotting” a major event.

Or, to put it another way, one person and one system were planning a “staged collision.”

Squatting in the grass of the park was a red male little fox. He had been there for a full hour, his eyes fixed on midair.

People came and went through the park, yet not a single one noticed this somewhat odd little fox, as if they and the fox did not exist in the same spacetime.

If Song Yiran were here, he would discover that the one talking with this little fox was none other than Xiao Zhong’er.

The little fox confirmed once more, “We only have one chance left, right?”

Xiao Zhong’er replied, “Yes. We only have this one last chance. If this fails…”

“…then we’ll never see big brother again,” the little fox continued, following Xiao Zhong’er’s words. “Big brother’s soul will dissipate into history. Except for us, no one will remember him.”

At that, both the little fox and Xiao Zhong’er let out long sighs.

And the story has to begin from a long time ago.

This task of repairing history and raising cubs was actually something Song Yiran had already done once before—but the ending of that attempt was regrettable.

That time, the childcare center Song Yiran received was a native interstellar one, where everything inside was a product of the interstellar age.

When Song Yiran first arrived, it took him a long time to learn how to use all those things. At that time, he didn’t know the interstellar language either, and had to study for a long while before he could manage basic daily communication.

Those days were extremely difficult for him. Every day, he fumbled around like an illiterate, trying to figure out how to use each item.

Back then, Xiao Zhong’er was also just a rookie system fresh out of the gate, clueless about everything and unable to help Song Yiran at all.

Later, things gradually got on track. Song Yiran adapted to the interstellar environment and began his cub-raising life.

He picked up one wandering cub after another from outside, carefully nurturing them as they grew, giving them care, warmth, and love.

Gradually, the cubs grew up, and the task was nearing its end.

Song Yiran couldn’t bear to part with them. After such a long time together, he had already come to see the cubs as family. After intense inner struggle, he chose to stay behind after completing the task.

However, just a few days after the task was completed, the timeline collapsed for unknown reasons.

The weather was wonderful that day. Song Yiran had agreed with his younger brothers to go boating together. But when he bought the tickets and returned home, he discovered that he could no longer go back.

Just as Song Yiran was about to step into the childcare center to hand out the tickets to his younger brothers, the timeline suddenly collapsed. His spacetime and that of his brothers were split into two separate parts—he could no longer step into the spacetime they were in.

That day, Song Yiran finally realized the cruelty of history.

He disappeared right before his brothers’ eyes. He could see them, but they could not see him.

He heard his brothers calling out to him over and over again. He kept responding, “Big brother is here!” But no one could hear him. His brothers continued shouting for him.

Song Yiran’s voice could not cross into that spacetime—not even a single “mm” could be conveyed.

Yet he could hear every one of his brothers’ cries.

“Big brother is here!” Song Yiran desperately pounded on the barrier of spacetime, but it was all in vain.

“Big brother, over here!”

“Big brother didn’t leave, big brother is right here!”

…

“I’m right here…” In the end, Song Yiran’s hands slid down helplessly, and the tickets in his hand fell to the ground.

Xiao Zhong’er contacted his superior. The superior told Xiao Zhong’er that Song Yiran’s task had already been completed and that he could return to his original world.

After hearing this result, Song Yiran fell silent for a long time—so long that Xiao Zhong’er thought he would never speak again. Then he asked a question:

“Can I go back?”

Xiao Zhong’er thought Song Yiran hadn’t heard clearly and repeated himself. “Of course. Your task is complete. You can return to your original world.”

Song Yiran explained, “I mean—can I go back to the beginning of this task?”

“Why?” Xiao Zhong’er was very confused. “Do you want to go through that difficult beginning all over again?”

“My task is to raise them, right? That means I have to raise every single one of them to adulthood. According to interstellar law, a citizen is only considered an adult at eighty-five years old.

I personally handled their household registration back then, so I remember it very clearly. Xiu Hu turns eighty-five this year, but his birthday is still a few days away. That means he’s technically still a minor.

Now that the timeline has collapsed, I can no longer raise him to adulthood. So my task has failed.

I request to redo the task.” Song Yiran laid out all his reasoning in one breath.

Xiao Zhong’er was still confused. “Are you sure? Even if you do it again, the timeline may still collapse—and something even worse could happen.

Is this really worth it?”

Song Yiran was resolute. “I’m sure.”

“All right, but I’ll have to personally ask my superior about this.” With that, Xiao Zhong’er teleported to the system transfer station.

The superior rejected Song Yiran’s request. Xiao Zhong’er should have returned just like that—but he didn’t.

Driven by a strange impulse, Xiao Zhong’er took out the private savings he had accumulated over the years and used them to make a you-know-what deal with his superior.

Looking at his now-flat wallet, Xiao Zhong’er let out a long sigh. Luckily his family was wealthy—otherwise, he would starve this month.

Xiao Zhong’er said seriously to Song Yiran, “They’ve agreed to your request, but you can only restart from birth, and this time, your memories of doing the task will be sealed.

You only have one chance. If you fail, you won’t be able to return to your original world either—your soul will directly dissipate.

Have you really thought it through? You still have a chance to back out.”

Even though backing out wouldn’t get his money back, he still wanted Song Yiran to think it over a bit more.

“I’ve thought it through. I’m sure. Thank you, little system,” Song Yiran replied seriously.

Seeing that Song Yiran had no intention of changing his decision, Xiao Zhong’er activated a spacetime teleportation array beneath his feet.

“I still don’t understand you. The risk is so great, and you might not even get the result you want. Why are you still so persistent?

You could have just gone back to your original world—why insist on wading into this mess? Are humans all this strange?” Xiao Zhong’er’s mouth kept chattering on.

Song Yiran didn’t answer these questions. Instead, he smiled at Xiao Zhong’er.

“When one day you’re able to experience human emotions, you’ll understand.

And also—you’re actually a very useful system. Don’t think you’re useless anymore. You’re really amazing.

Thank you for all the companionship and help during this time, my friend. Farewell.”

Friend?

Xiao Zhong’er seemed to understand a little why he had been willing to give up the savings he’d accumulated for so long for this human.

As the light of the teleportation array grew more and more blinding, Song Yiran’s figure gradually became transparent. Xiao Zhong’er wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what to say.

Seeing that Song Yiran was about to be teleported away—if he didn’t speak now, it would truly be too late—Xiao Zhong’er hurriedly said,

“Can you give me a nickname? I don’t mean anything else by it. I just heard that humans usually give their friends nicknames.”

“The Faithful Guardian of the Great God of History.” Song Yiran thought seriously for a moment and felt that this title suited the system very well.

Xiao Zhong’er also thought the nickname sounded nice. “That nickname is great. Next time you see me, call me that!

…Forget it, you’ll forget everything by then anyway. I’ll just tell you myself when the time comes.”

Song Yiran promised solemnly, “As long as you say it once, I’ll definitely call you that every time.”

At that moment, neither the human nor the system realized the seriousness of the problem.

Later, during the period when Song Yiran returned to Blue Star and grew up again, Xiao Zhong’er rearranged the childcare center, replacing everything in it with items from Blue Star.

Xiao Zhong’er also sought out a highly experienced but extremely hard-to-find senior and bought an interstellar language pack.

To afford it, he sold his limited-edition data maintenance face mask.

Well, it was just gathering dust anyway—might as well sell it. Xiao Zhong’er comforted himself like that.

That guy cooks really well. If I mooch a few extra meals later, I’ll make the cost back.

Later on, his family gave him living expenses again. Xiao Zhong’er scraped together half of it and once more went to make a shady, system-unmentionable deal with his superior.

The superior gave him a method to reduce the risk.

Following that method, Xiao Zhong’er went to the childcare center after the timeline collapse. He pulled the underage Song Xiu Hu into the system space, and even took Song Yiran’s interstellar light brain with him—there were a lot of credit points in it. It would have been a waste not to take it.

Since Xiao Zhong’er could come back, why couldn’t Song Yiran come back directly?

Because Xiao Zhong’er was merely composed of data, while Song Yiran was human. With the physical resilience of a human body, humans simply cannot exist in spacetime after a timeline collapse.

So at that time, sending Song Yiran back was the best choice.

After bringing Song Xiuhu back, Xiao Zhong’er immediately sealed him. All that was needed was to choose the right moment to release Song Xiuhu, then seal his memories, and find a way for him to be picked up by Song Yiran.

Next, before the timeline collapsed, Xiao Zhong’er had to find a way to sense the abnormal fluctuations in spacetime. Then he would lift the seal on Song Xiuhu’s memories and send him to help Song Yiran eliminate the source of those abnormal fluctuations.

That way, the timeline would not collapse.

Everyone would arrive at a perfect ending.

Looking at Xiao Zhong’er’s bean-like eyes, Song Xiuhu said seriously, “I’ll do my best to cooperate. I’ll definitely help fulfill big brother’s wish.”

Xiao Zhong’er also said, “We definitely will.”

Then, according to the plan, Xiao Zhong’er sealed Song Xiuhu’s memories.

Looking at the Song Xiuhu before him, whose mind had regressed into that of a child, Xiao Zhong’er felt as if his shoulders were burdened with an enormous weight—

Even though he didn’t actually have shoulders.

Thinking about what Song Yiran currently called him, Xiao Zhong’er ground his teeth in frustration. “How is ‘The Loyal Guardian of the Great God of History’ chūniby at all?”

You were clearly the one who gave me that name…