Chapter 128 Aberrant 18

Mom’s first time cooking wasn’t very tasty, but just like how she quickly got better at braiding Qian’s hair, she improved fast. By the second and third times, she was getting the hang of it.

And she cooked faster than Chen Cailing.

She could rinse rice with two hands, wash vegetables with two hands, fry eggs with two hands, wash dishes with two hands… and still have two hands left to hold down Qian, who was standing on tiptoe trying to reach the kitchen knife.

Every night before, when Aberrant woke up, she’d roam the building. Now, as soon as she got up, she first had to find clothes for Qian, then lead her to wash her face and brush her teeth, and braid her hair along the way, plus prepare breakfast for her.

Only after dealing with this troublesome kid could she eat herself.

And once Aberrant started to take on this caregiving role, the previously well-behaved and independent Qian suddenly regressed into a lazy little cat who just called out “Mom, mom” all day.

Getting her out of bed, brushing her teeth, eating—everything required urging. Without reminders, she would stay with messy bed hair, refusing to eat or wash, wrapped in a blanket in the “womb,” roughhousing and running wild with her younger siblings—sometimes laughter roaring through the air, other times crying shattering the ground—impossible to catch.

After breakfast, Aberrant could no longer lie around leisurely; she was constantly grabbed by the child to play.

And having explored the entire Tianzi Building and found it boring, with no playmates around, Qian stuck to her mom like glue. Wherever mom went, Qian wanted to follow, and wherever Qian went, she wanted mom along.

Aberrant was once again dragged along by Qian to the little supermarket on the seventh floor.

As a gradually maturing mother, Aberrant for the first time took the initiative to pick up a pack of pickled mustard greens from the supermarket shelf—marking her evolution: she could finally consider what the child wanted!

Qian chirped happily eating her pickled mustard green fried rice, already planning to eat it again tomorrow. She loved it so much she wished she could eat it every day.

Aberrant wiped the oil-glossy mess from Qian’s little mouth. Even after a tissue, Qian still spoke indistinctly.

The noise was indeed loud, but with those big round eyes blinking and a pouty little mouth leaning in sweetly to kiss her cheek, she was still the cutest kid in the world.

Aberrant stroked Qian’s head and didn’t move for a long while.

From caring for the child by instinct, to doing everything needed, all that was required now was a kid who could call “Mom” and ask for this and that.

At bedtime, Qian lay on Aberrant, unable to fall asleep. She flipped over on her mom like a carp but couldn’t get up because mom’s arms held her firmly.

Yet even then, Qian could suddenly start playing by herself—straining to sit up, halfway up and then collapsing in exhaustion, then inexplicably breaking into giggles.

She stomped on mom’s legs, making clapping sounds, then seriously studied mom’s arms and fingers, suddenly grabbing mom’s clothes trying to pull a loose thread—basically playing until she was sleepy.

Aberrant had learned: when she was playing by herself, Qian mustn’t bother her. Otherwise, once she joined in, she’d get more and more excited—sleep would be impossible.

When Qian was asleep on Aberrant, her hand had to clutch something—fingers, hair, sometimes pinching a bit of skin on mom’s arm—and her head and cheek had to press close to flesh.

Since coming into this world, Qian spent most of her sleeping time pressed against Aberrant, resting in her arms.

The intimate physical contact between mother and child made Qian quickly develop attachment and affection for Aberrant. Her instinct told her this embrace was a safe and comforting place.

This kind of close intimacy, without any distance, was something the child had never experienced before—very different from with Dad.

Dads held her in their hands, lifting her up; moms held her inside their flesh as she grew.

Even now, though Qian could eat fried rice, Aberrant still insisted on breastfeeding.

What truly filled her up wasn’t the meals, snacks, or drinks—but only that feed from mom. So, she truly grew entirely dependent on her mom.

For Aberrant, whether it was finding snacks for Qian or cooking meals, it all basically fell under “playing with her.”

The notorious Boss Monster, feared by Players everywhere, felt relaxed today because her noisy child was asleep.

But once the child woke up, a day more troublesome than foraging would begin again.

A kid who woke up before mom was like an alarm clock that couldn’t be turned off. Once mom fell asleep and released her hold, Qian slipped out and sat beside her to wake up.

Nearby siblings crawled over and nibbled her toes; Qian pushed them away, pulled back her chubby feet, then ran off to get two lollipops. She peeled one and popped it into her mouth, turning it back and forth in both cheeks, and peeled the other to hold out for the toe-nibbling sibling to lick.

Of course, that sibling soon got pushed aside by others, so she took turns letting each lick the lollipop, moving clockwise inside the siblings’ circle.

Then they started fighting over the candy. Aberrant woke up amid the chaos.

Seeing mom slowly wake and get up, Qian, fully alert from playing with siblings, pounced and stretched out a pineapple-flavored lollipop to mom’s mouth.

“Mom, eat.”

Aberrant slowly opened her mouth. Her permanently red lips cracked slightly, looking like she could swallow the child’s head whole.

Just as she was about to take the lollipop, Qian quickly pulled back and put it back in her own mouth, laughing happily.

Aberrant: “…”

“Mom, I was just joking, you eat.” The child obediently offered the candy again.

Aberrant opened her mouth slowly once more; Qian pulled back again.

With hair covering her face, Aberrant stayed still. When Qian tried a third time to bring the candy close without a word, Aberrant suddenly opened wide and bit down on the lollipop in her hand like a crocodile snapping up prey, biting off both the candy and the stick.

Listening to mom’s crunchy bite, Qian stared dumbfounded at the short plastic stick left in her hand.

“Wah… waaahhh!”

Since the child always woke earlier than her mom, Aberrant woke up every time to different noises made by the child.

Today, it was the sound of the child banging on pots and buckets.

Qian had brought several basins and buckets from the seventh-floor mini-mart as toys. She flipped a basin upside down and drummed on it like a drum, quickly teaching a group of younger siblings to do the same, forming a deafeningly loud drum band of children.

Fortunately, Aberrant was no longer a living person and couldn’t be driven mad by the noise.

“Bang bang bang—thud thud thud—”

For some unknown reason, a red basin was suddenly placed on Aberrant’s head as she woke. She grabbed the basin covering her head with both hands, trying to press it tighter to block out the surrounding noise.

Aberrant’s evolution showed in this, too: waking up to noise made by the child and not wanting to get up but instead pulling the blanket over her head was something she would never have done before.

During this Mission cycle, no high-level Players had come to Tianzi Building with the intent to kill Aberrant. It was a peaceful week for the other aberrants in the building, quietly eating small fish and shrimp.

But for Aberrant, who had no outsiders to distract Qian’s attention and had to face the child herself, every day was far from peaceful.

Once again, while hunting in the building, she caught a trembling Player but did not devour him like before. Instead, she silently stared at him as if pondering something, then suddenly grabbed him and brought him before Qian.

The man, trembling all over, sobbing and wailing, was still crying and shouting when brought to Qian.

Startled by the commotion, Qian ran to Aberrant’s side and hugged her leg.

But Aberrant pushed her toward the human with a somewhat urgent and expectant gesture.

“Go, go play with the toy yourself.”

Qian didn’t understand what mom meant, tilting her little head.

Aberrant released the man, who was already mentally disoriented from fear.

Before Qian could react, the man shouted and turned, sprinting down the corridor. He leapt from the fourth floor.

Aberrant, trying to find a new toy for her daughter, did not give up.

She changed her habit of eating every Player she caught—instead, she brought each one before Qian to see if she wanted to play with them.

The Players cried for mercy or struggled and fought back, showing no desire to play with the daughter.

Today, Aberrant again failed to send her daughter off to play with a toy. Watching Qian cling to her leg, Aberrant’s head drooped wearily about ten centimeters as she slowly retreated.

Meanwhile, outside Tianzi Building, two Players—a man and a woman—held their equipment, quietly observing the building’s activity and recording gathered information.

“The newly appeared seventh floor of Tianzi Building shows no strong aberrant aura for now. It seems this floor hasn’t fully integrated with Tianzi Building yet and is still in the process of ‘digesting’…” the woman said gravely.

She and her companion belonged to the largest Players organization, the Players Association. Because their abilities leaned toward support, they ranked low among the high-level Players and usually operated in A-level Domains.

This time, they used a tool ticket to enter Monster Domain to gather more information.

Previously, a five-member high-level Players squad sent by their Association was defeated in Monster Domain and returned severely injured. Three of them were still bedridden, unable to recover soon.

The front-line squad’s failure sparked numerous disputes within the Association. Several vice presidents with differing views quarreled almost daily.

Originally, two vice presidents were to dispatch new squads this week, but after the front-line squad leader Teacher Wen talked with the Association president, the decision was made to send these two first to gather more Monster Domain intel before deciding on further squad deployments.

So here they were.

As Teacher Wen said, Tianzi Building had never changed its pattern for years—until now. An abnormal situation had occurred right under their noses, with a seventh floor suddenly appearing!

The two observing Players were stunned.

Why would Tianzi Building, which had maintained six floors for so many years, suddenly have a seventh? What did it mean? Did it signify an increase in Monster Domain’s power? Aberrant’s evolution? How would this affect the Association’s upcoming operations?

Tormented by terrifying speculation until the final day, they vanished out of Monster Domain with heavy hearts.

They had to report this change to the Association and reassess the stability and danger of Monster Domain, which would determine whether the Association would continue dispatching squads there in the near future.

Old surviving Players disappeared; new Players appeared in Monster Domain.

Not far from Tianzi Building, on a rooftop, a Player appeared.

A tall, slender youth wearing a blacked-out rabbit mask stood with one foot on the rooftop railing, shading his eyes to gaze at Tianzi Building, revealing black tattoos on his hands.