When the moment finally came for them to talk, Tao Shushu found herself at a loss for words, unsure of how to start the conversation.

She opened her mouth slightly, wanting to ask what had happened to the cub, but then realized she could just check the event log herself—there was no need to ask.

Then another thought struck her—he was driving. If he suddenly heard someone speaking, what if he got startled?

Tao Shushu thought about it over and over again but still couldn’t come up with a suitable opening line.

In the end, she simply turned off the voice chat button.

But then, Tao Shushu noticed that the cub’s sleeve was torn, exposing his thin, bony arm.

On instinct, she reached out and touched the sleeve, muttering, “What happened to the Cub? Why are his clothes in this state? Did he get hurt?”

Her fingertip accidentally brushed the small speaker icon on the screen, and just like that, her words were sent out.

Nan Yuan suddenly slammed his foot on the gas pedal and looked straight ahead.

The girl’s voice was clear and crisp, and for some reason, it reminded him of a little deer in the mountains.

“…Is it you?” Nan Yuan asked,.

On the phone screen, the encrypted symbols above the cub’s head disappeared, replaced by a simple sentence: “Is it you?”

Tao Shushu reached out and ruffled the cub’s hair.

Nan Yuan’s disbelief faded away. His eyes shone brightly, even more dazzling than the stars in the sky. “Are you on my right?” he asked.

She ruffled the right side of his head.

He didn’t know why she liked messing with his hair so much, but that familiar gesture instantly confirmed it was her.

He relaxed and put down the weapon he had instinctively picked up when he first heard the voice.

Tao Shushu carefully examined his sleeve—it looked like it had been neatly cut rather than torn. Since there were no visible wounds on him, he probably wasn’t injured.

Only then did she let out a breath of relief, her heart settling back in place.

But now, she didn’t know how to answer the cub’s question.

Her cub’s bright eyes blinked a few times, fixating on the air in front of him, just like a little kid in kindergarten begging Santa Claus for a piece of candy. 

His reaction was so vivid—it was no wonder she had become so obsessed with this game in just two days, grinding and spending money non-stop. 

Tao Shushu cleared her throat lightly. “I’m on your right. I can see you, but you can’t see me.” 

She shifted her phone slightly to the left. She was indeed on the cub’s right—just across dimensions. 

Nan Yuan smiled. “Okay.” 

He placed a pile of red and green fruits on his right side. After a brief moment of thought, he also picked up the little lion and set it on his right. 

Her cub was way too thoughtful. 

Overjoyed, Tao Shushu eagerly rubbed the little lion’s belly through the screen. As she continued, the once proud, head-high lion gradually deflated, its limbs sprawled flat on the ground like a pitiful, lifeless rug. 

But she wasn’t even using that much force… 

She pulled her hand back, and as soon as she let go, she finally noticed the cub, who had been hidden under her hand’s shadow just moments ago. 

Nan Yuan gazed at the little lion thoughtfully. She seemed so carefree, able to find joy in even the simplest things. 

Tao Shushu asked, “What’s wrong with the little lion?” 

Nan Yuan withdrew the oppressive aura of his ability. “It’s tired.”

Tao Shushu didn’t think too much about it. Although the little lion had been too scared to move on the day Nan Yuan evolved, she had been entirely focused on him at the time, worried that something might go wrong during his evolution. She hadn’t paid much attention to the little lion. 

Besides, the cub looked calm and gentle now, even thoughtfully offering the little lion fruit and jerky. It never crossed Tao Shushu’s mind that Nan Yuan might have intentionally scared the little lion. 

“Then, cub, you must be tired too,” Tao Shushu said casually. “Use the autopilot system and get some rest.” 

She opened the event log and began reviewing what had happened while she was asleep. 

Defeating the Slaughterers’ organization wasn’t difficult—she had already received the mission completion notification. And after the cub’s evolution, his strength had increased significantly. 

A few remaining ability users, seeing that Lin Wei had fallen, decided to team up, thinking they could take advantage of the cub being alone. 

But they were all taught a harsh lesson. 

Cub had inspected the Slaughterers’ base—it had once been an abandoned factory with no defensive structures. Previously, when beast tides struck, Lin Wei had forced ordinary people to stand at the outermost perimeter, letting the mutated beasts gorge themselves before the base was deemed “safe.” 

Reading this, Tao Shushu couldn’t help but rub the cub’s head again. 

Maybe because she had experienced the apocalypse herself, this kind of situation made her deeply uncomfortable. 

She kept scrolling and saw that Cub had given the Slaughterers’ high-ranking members who made these decisions a thorough beating. 

Cub was amazing! 

She rubbed his head again, feeling proud of him.

After this battle, the remaining elders of the Slaughterers’ organization no longer dared to have any rebellious thoughts. They obediently followed the cub’s commands. 

Nan Yuan had no intention of occupying the Slaughterers’ base. 

However, he still took a look around, pointed out the base’s vulnerabilities, and explained the potential dangers to the remaining people. 

Most of the remaining ability users were injured. They weren’t particularly powerful to begin with, and since their philosophies clashed with Lin Wei’s, they had never been trusted or given the opportunity to commit atrocities. 

There were also many ordinary people left. 

Tao Shushu noticed that Nan Yuan hesitated for a moment. 

If he left the ordinary people here, their chances of surviving the next beast tide were slim. 

But if he took them with him… 

Tao Shushu felt a little regretful that she had fallen asleep last night. If she had stayed awake, at the very least, she could have helped the cub find a way to take these people with him or purchased defensive structures to reinforce the base. 

In the end, Cub gave them two choices: they could voluntarily stay or leave with him.

Many people chose the latter option. 

So, the cub patiently distributed supplies and waited for everyone to transport them. 

Unfortunately, in the middle of the night, some starving mutated beasts launched an attack. 

Cub used the Bloodsucking Grass Corrosion Liquid, but there were too many beasts. Everyone had to work together to fight back, and after a tough battle, they finally repelled the attacking creatures. 

Just as the group thought they were safe and were about to continue moving the supplies, a venomous snake suddenly sprang to life, flicking its tongue toward someone. The person was so frightened that they fell to the ground. 

The cub happened to be standing beside them. He immediately fired his particle gun, hitting the snake. 

The snake’s blood splattered onto the person. 

When the cub helped clean it off, he wrapped his hand with his sleeve. 

Luckily, he was careful—because even the snake’s blood was toxic. 

Tao Shushu felt immense relief. Thank goodness the Cub didn’t get poisoned. She hadn’t expected the night to be so dangerous. 

Feeling a lingering sense of fear, she pinched the torn sleeve of the cub’s clothing. 

She thought to herself, Cub is always so cautious, always on guard, but with me, he has never once doubted. 

Just for that—just for the fact that even in the apocalypse, the cub still trusted her completely—she had to take good care of him.

Tao Shushu switched perspectives and looked at the two tanks trailing behind the cub’s truck. 

This small convoy, carrying a few hundred people, was everything the cub had gained from this journey. 

She glanced at the power value bar; it was previously unchanged, now it had increased by one number: 329.

Tao Shushu closed the event log. “Cub, we will definitely find a safe base.” 

“Mm, I believe you.” Nan Yuan responded quickly. 

Now that she knew Cub had damaged his clothing while catching the venomous snake, Tao Shushu grabbed his arm to examine it closely. If the venom had seeped through too quickly and harmed him, it would be terrible. 

Nan Yuan obediently raised his arm, letting Tao Shushu turn it over and check it carefully. 

When she finally let go, Nan Yuan said, “I’m sorry for ruining the clothes you gave me.” 

His gaze lowered slightly, and when he blinked, his long, delicate eyelashes looked like tiny brushes sweeping gently. 

Even though he had damaged his clothes while helping someone else, he still wore an expression like a well-behaved child admitting his mistake.

Tao Shushu was completely smitten. It was just a piece of clothing, right? She could just buy another one. And money? If she didn’t have enough, she could just work more! 

Although… 

Although her balance was currently zero, she could learn! She was determined to earn enough to buy her cub even more clothes! 

She aggressively ruffled the cub’s little tuft of hair. “This wasn’t your fault at all! You did the right thing. If you see venom, just get out of the way, okay?” 

Nan Yuan replied, “Okay.” 

He paused for a moment but ultimately didn’t ask how she knew what had happened two nights ago. After all, when she first noticed his torn sleeve, she had been confused about how it had gotten that way. 

What he was more curious about was… she called him cub. 

Nan Yuan was already eighteen, old enough to join the military. 

Cub? That name was more fitting for the dumb lion lying on the ground than for him. 

His gaze drifted toward a few books on the front of the truck—books the speed-type ability user had insisted on giving him last night, claiming they were one of the few ways to pass the time on this barren planet.

Nan Yuan didn’t really need the books, but seeing how she seemed unfamiliar with the current situation, he took them anyway—almost as if compelled by some unseen force. Maybe she would find them interesting. 

He flipped one open in advance and realized it was a bizarre novel. It told the story of an ancient monster who had slept for a thousand years. When it awoke, it encountered a human and decided to raise the human child as its own. Later, the human fell in love with the monster, but due to their differences—one being human, the other a supernatural creature—along with their vastly different lifespans and the prejudices of society, they eventually parted ways. 

Nan Yuan only read the part where the monster treated the human as its child. 

Then, he suddenly froze. 

She called him cub. 

She appeared and disappeared unpredictably, yet whenever she was around, she somehow always knew what had happened to him—just like a guardian watching over a child. And she really did feel like some kind of spirit that had suddenly appeared. 

She also cared about his daily life—his food, his clothing, whether he was safe. 

Nan Yuan’s expression became strangely complicated. 

Even the way she told him to run from danger was filled with the protective instincts of someone unwilling to see their child get hurt. 

Silently, he reached out and pushed the books into a corner, as if hiding them from view. 

Then, he spoke up abruptly, “I’m eighteen.” 

Tao Shushu blinked in confusion. Why did the cub suddenly bring that up? 

At the cub’s feet, the little lion was happily munching on jerky. 

Tao Shushu smacked her forehead. She had been so overwhelmed by the excitement of unlocking the voice chat feature that she completely forgot to check if Cub had been eating properly!

Tao Shushu handed some fruit to the cub as well. “Cub, even if you’re eighteen, you still need to eat properly. Here, have some fruit first. Let me see if there’s anything else I can get for you to eat.” 

Eating only fruit and jerky all the time wasn’t healthy—the diet was way too limited. But in the apocalypse, even this was considered a rare treat. 

After thinking for a moment, she asked, “Do you want to stop and have a proper meal before moving on? Do you have any ideas on where to find a safe base?” 

Nan Yuan paused. 

He had just told her he was eighteen. 

But she simply replied, ‘Even if you’re eighteen, you still need to eat properly.’ 

The book he read said that supernatural creatures had long lifespans. To them, even a hundred-year-old being was still considered a child. 

So… was she really treating him like a kid?