IBO -Chapter 33 A Twist of Fate

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

That night, after taking care of the cubs all day and finally sending them back to their dormitories, Song Yiran at last had some time to himself.

Looking after cubs was an extremely energy-consuming task—especially since they were still young and needed adults to keep an eye on them at all times.

After all, no one could know whether a cub might suddenly get their body stuck in some bizarre place, or run into something dangerous. (:з」∠)

Song Yiran let out a sigh. There were simply too many things he had to worry about. He felt that if this kept up, he would sooner or later start going gray early.

Perhaps he should start taking care of his hair from now on.

Compared to last time, his current days were actually not too bad. The last time around, his life in the interstellar world had been nothing short of miserable.

**[Timeline of the Previous Mission]**

Song Yiran stared blankly at the leaking ceiling above his head. The floor was covered in water. He sat on a bed that was still relatively dry, with three sleeping cubs nestled close beside him.

Song Yiran felt that this miserable life could be seen straight through to its end at a glance.

Why had he ended up in such a sorry state?

Let us rewind time to one day earlier. One day earlier, Song Yiran had still been an ordinary freshly graduated male college student—only to be struck and killed by a drunk male driver while walking down the street.

That damned drunk driver!!!

After his death, his soul was bound to a system. The system told him that if he completed its tasks, he could be resurrected.

So Song Yiran decisively signed what was essentially a contract selling himself. At the time, he had no idea what he was about to face.

The moment he arrived in the interstellar world, he was dumbfounded. Damn that system— it hadn’t even installed an interstellar language pack for him!

Now he was an illiterate in the interstellar world. He couldn’t read the writing here, nor could he understand the language.

The system explained that during the transfer they had encountered a spacetime turbulence, and the resources that were supposed to be given to him had been swept into that turbulence during the crossing.

And now, the system had lost contact with headquarters.

“So what you’re saying is… you’re also completely helpless right now?” Song Yiran crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow, and looked at the trembling system in front of him.

The system was on the verge of tears. How could it be this unlucky? Its very first mission, and it ran straight into spacetime turbulence.

“I’m sorry, Host, I can’t contact headquarters right now either. QAQ But don’t worry! The task interface is still working— as long as we complete the missions, we can go back smoothly! ●v●”

“Then how exactly are the two of us supposed to complete the missions now?

“I’m an illiterate in the interstellar world. And raising kids costs money. All our resources are gone— where are we supposed to get money?

“Can an illiterate even find a job in the interstellar world? Are we supposed to pick up trash to raise the kids…?”

Song Yiran was so worried he felt like he was about to go bald. What were they supposed to do in this situation?

“And another thing…”

Song Yiran turned and pointed at the run-down nursery in front of him. “This nursery is so dilapidated that I seriously suspect it’s at least eighty years old! Even the roof is broken. With conditions like this, how are we supposed to raise kids here?”

The moment he finished speaking, the nursery’s front gate obligingly collapsed to one side.

“Well then! Now even the gate is broken. But at least the place is so run-down that there probably won’t be any thieves,” Song Yiran said, feeling a bit hopeless.

Calling it run-down was already being generous. This nursery could more accurately be described as a completely abandoned, unfinished building.

If someone said this place was an unfinished ruin that had been abandoned for eighty years, he would believe it without hesitation.

More than half of the surrounding wall had collapsed— even a one-meter-tall child could walk straight in through the gap.

Now one side of the gate was broken as well, the signboard on it had long since fallen off, weeds had overgrown the yard, and the walls of the buildings inside were covered with large patches of moss, along with all kinds of unknown plants.

The system could only cry as it apologized. “Waaahhh— I’m sorry, Host! I really don’t know what to do now! This is my first mission… sob, waaahhh…”

Song Yiran sighed. There was no point blaming the system now; it couldn’t help it either.

So he asked, “You should have something like an employee handbook, right? Does it say what employees should do if they encounter unexpected situations?”

“Yes…”

“That’s great! Hurry up and check if there’s any method we can use!”

Song Yiran finally let out a breath of relief— but before that breath had fully settled, the system spoke again.

“There is… but when we ran into the spacetime turbulence, my database was damaged too. I can’t retrieve the data right now. QAQ”

The system cautiously watched Song Yiran, afraid that he might lose his temper and beat it up on the spot.

Song Yiran was silent for a long time. Then he started taking off his coat.

“Ahhh! What are you going to do to this system?! There’s no future between humans and systems! If you really lay hands on me, once I get back in contact with headquarters, I’ll definitely send you to prison!”

Because its database was damaged, the system couldn’t return to system space.

So it could only keep backing away, retreating step by step while pitifully holding its hands up to shield its body, terrified that Song Yiran’s beastly nature would erupt and he’d violate a poor, innocent system.

Song Yiran rolled his eyes at it.

He tore his coat into a long strip, then walked over to a dead tree in the nursery yard and found a large stone to use as a stepping stool.

Next, he stood on the rock, tossed the long strips he’d torn off over a tree branch, tied a dead knot, and put his neck into the loop.

“Bye-bye, stupid system. I’m not doing this crappy mission anymore—just let me die! You can stay in the interstellar era and play by yourself, stupid system!”

After saying that, Song Yiran kicked away the rock he was standing on.

The system let out a piercing scream. “Aaaaah! Host! Don’t die!”

The system flew over and slammed hard into Song Yiran’s head. Song Yiran was knocked to the ground, his skull hitting the earth and buzzing loudly.

Before Song Yiran could recover, the system made things even worse.

It sprawled on his chest and wailed at the top of its lungs. “Waaahhhhhhh—Host, don’t die!”

So heavy—why was the system so heavy? Song Yiran felt like he was about to be crushed and suffocate. No, he couldn’t breathe.

Just before he was about to be pressed to death by the system, Song Yiran used his last bit of strength to shove that ridiculously heavy system off his chest.

Finally—he could breathe freely!

Song Yiran gulped down several breaths of air. After he caught his breath, he scrambled up and grabbed the system’s Q-bouncy, round body.

He originally wanted to grab it by the neck, but the system’s entire body was round and plump—there was no neck to be found!

Whatever. Either way, he was going to strangle this damn system today.

“Do you know you almost crushed me to death just now?! Why are you so heavy?! I was this close to being crushed to death by you! You damn system—I’m going to strangle you!”

The system felt utterly wronged. “I was saving you! If it weren’t for me, you’d have hanged yourself just now! How can you treat a system like this? That’s too heartbreaking for a system! QAQ”

Song Yiran bit down on the system’s short little arm. “You’ve got the nerve to say that? You smashed into me and knocked me to the ground, then lay on my chest—do you have any idea how heavy you are?

Do you have any awareness of your own weight? I almost got crushed to death by you!”

“Aaaaah! You’re biting me! You’re biting me! Do you have rabies or something?! Why are you biting me?!”

“I’m biting you! If it weren’t for you, would I have ended up in such a miserable state?!”

“Aaaaah, I’ll fight you! I already told you I couldn’t help it—I’m a victim too! I can’t go back either! I’ll fight you! Do you really think I’m some mild-tempered system?!”

Not to be outdone, the system used its weight advantage and slammed straight into Song Yiran’s forehead.

Song Yiran was knocked to the ground again, the back of his head once more feeling the unforgiving hardness of the earth.

Thus, one human and one system started brawling. They fought all the way until nightfall, and in the end, no one won.

Exhausted, the human and the system finally declared a truce. Since neither of them could go back anyway, they might as well figure out how to survive in the interstellar era first.

“Hey, do you have any good ideas? If you can’t think of any, then you’re coming with me to pick through trash.” Song Yiran idly plucked at the grass on the ground.

The system was very dissatisfied with how Song Yiran addressed it. “My name isn’t ‘hey’! I’m System No. 555—555 is my name!”

“I have a name too. I’m not called ‘Host,’ I’m called Song Yiran! So have you thought of any good ideas or not?

If there’s really no way, then we can only go pick through trash.” Song Yiran felt like he could already see the end of his future at a glance.

“I think we can rely on scavenging through trash to scrape by in the early stage,” 555 said. “Then we can pick up textbooks from the trash. Once you get them, you can teach yourself the interstellar language, and then you can find another job!”

555 felt his plan was excellent.

Song Yiran rubbed his forehead and sighed. “My god, 555, you’re so smart. Since you’re such a clever 555, tell me—does the interstellar era even have paper textbooks? Shouldn’t everyone have a light brain instead?”

555 came up with another idea. “I’ve got another plan. We can try picking up discarded light brains from the trash, then use them to teach yourself the interstellar language.”

“Searching tutorials requires keywords. We don’t even recognize a single character—what are we supposed to use to search?” Song Yiran sighed again. He felt like he’d already used up all the sighs he’d have in his lifetime.

“I’ve got another idea,” 555 said. “We scavenge and scrape by for a while first. During that time, you secretly observe how interstellar people speak. With enough exposure, you’ll definitely pick up some simple vocabulary.

Then you’ll be able to communicate with interstellar people. After that, you can find a kind interstellar passerby to help you search for interstellar language tutorials on a light brain, and then you can successfully teach yourself the language!”

At last, 555 proposed a feasible suggestion.

“Alright. For now, this seems like the most suitable plan. You’re coming with me to pick through trash—no slacking off.”

What a joke. Would he let 555, such a perfect source of labor, off the hook?

555 was already constructing a grand blueprint for the future in its mind. “Once you learn the interstellar language, you can find a job. When everything gets on track, we can start the mission to raise cubs!

Then once the mission is completed, you can be revived! And I can get my bonus!”

“What pipe dreams. Stop fantasizing. Come on, let’s go—we need to dig through trash cans first. We haven’t even settled dinner yet.”

Song Yiran dragged 555 along as they left.

One human and one system wandered the streets, stopping at every trash can they encountered to rummage through it.

After flipping through all the trash cans on this street, the two of them returned to the nursery. Song Yiran sat on the ground and took stock of the night’s loot.

That evening, they found several tubes of nutrient solution. 555 scanned them—although they were expired, they were still edible. If they didn’t eat them, they’d just starve.

They also found a discarded light brain. Song Yiran carefully put it away—there might not be such good luck next time.

Hugging 555, Song Yiran searched for a room in the nursery that could be lived in.

555’s weight was a mystery. It could be heavy enough to nearly crush him to death, and heavy enough to knock him down with a headbutt, yet when held in his arms, it didn’t feel that heavy at all.

Finally, among the open-air rooms so dilapidated they could be called unfinished buildings, he found the only room that looked intact.

Just as he was about to push the door open, 555 suddenly reacted. “Song Yiran—the mission target has appeared!”