Chapter 6: The Interstellar Survival Guide

“His name is Mika.” Sang Yao said coldly, dropping the three words before turning and heading downstairs.

His steps were swift, his knobby fingers irritably tugging at his collar. His elegant Adam’s apple bobbed as a faint flush rose around his collarbone.

The peculiar fragrance he had just caught lingered, stirring an unquenchable heat within him.

The only scent capable of igniting such warmth in a male would be female pheromones—pheromones that his male genes could recognize and respond to.

If even the faintest trace of that scent could provoke such a reaction, there were only two possibilities.

First, his genes were physiologically predisposed to favor that particular female, a matter of biological selection. Second, that female possessed a powerful soothing ability, her pheromones effortlessly attracting males, her genetic compatibility remarkably high, making mismatched genes a rare occurrence.

But Sang Fuying was an asexual individual. How could she possibly emit female pheromones?

Could she have taken some illicit substance from the black market to entice males?

Sang Fuying didn’t understand what her uncle meant, and she murmured to herself, “Mika?”

“Here~” came a soft, endearing mechanical voice as a small square head with two antennae popped up at the doorway.

“May I ask, esteemed young lady, how may I assist you?” the robot asked politely.

Sang Fuying suddenly realized that Mika was an intelligent robot.

“Please help me open my bedroom door,” she requested politely.

Her bedroom door was still fitted with an old-fashioned lock. Mika pried it open with a wire and made a clumsy bow at the door. “Please enter, Miss.”

“Thank you, Mika.”

Mika’s square face displayed a cute smile composed of coded symbols. “Very well, Miss. This is the first time you’ve said thank you to Mika. Mika is very happy.”

The first time saying thank you? What kind of person had inhabited this body before?

The door opened to reveal a large, pink-and-white themed girl’s bedroom. A strong, almost suffocating scent of incense flooded the room, causing Sang Fuying to cough.

Almost every corner of the room held a diffuser.

She didn’t understand why the original owner would place so many incense diffusers in her room. Didn’t she find the smell overwhelming?

“Xiaobu, can you find the original owner’s memories? I’m afraid I might slip up,” Sang Fuying poked the system assistant.

[Host, I must first identify why the fusion failed to correct the errors and complete the merge. But I can send you an interstellar survival guide that details the situation of this world. You can take a look.]

The survival guide was transmitted to the system space.

“All right, I’ll read it carefully after changing clothes.”

Sang Fuying opened the wardrobe. Most of the clothes were dresses—various styles and colors, almost a complete collection.

None of them seemed practical—either runway-worthy or extravagant evening gowns meant for ballrooms, ostentatious and eye-catching, leaving her at a loss.

She searched through an entire row of wardrobes against the wall and finally found only a few sets of pajamas and a fitted dark green-and-black blazer paired with a pleated long skirt.

The jacket bore a gold-trimmed badge with strange lettering, yet she could understand it.

It was a school emblem—the emblem of Saint Nia Federal University.

So this outfit was a school uniform.

Sang Fuying changed into the uniform in front of the mirror. The girl in the reflection looked just like her original self, except her skin was softly white and natural, without a trace of illness, and her clear eyes shimmered like a galaxy, no longer dull and lifeless from disease.

After changing, she put away all the incense diffusers and opened the windows to air out the room.

The survival guide from Xiaobu explained that this world was far from equal. Besides innate ranks, social standing could be determined by individual ability. Without spiritual power, low-ranking orcs had to find ways to increase their social value.

Yet despite efforts, physically inferior orcs—those without even the ability to assume their beast form, known as defective orcs—could hardly stand on equal footing with normal orcs.

If an orc killed a defective, they faced no legal consequences. But if a defective harmed an orc, they would face severe punishment.

Among the vast population of defective females in the galaxy, the common way to leap social classes was to marry into a wealthy family.

Due to the gender imbalance, a single male could hardly monopolize one female. Females often dominated marriage relationships as the “wife masters.” Many neglected males, seldom seeing their wives, chose to keep defective females as outlets.

For those defective females, this was a way to change their class. For the males, their status was akin to pets.

“I see. So ‘defective’ means what—ordinary humans? Ordinary humans are inferior to super-evolved orcs, right, Xiaobu?” Sang Fuying asked.

Xiaobu replied, [That’s roughly it.]

“Then, did the original owner also try to change her class by pursuing a wealthy heir?”

She couldn’t help but wonder since the first thing she heard upon arriving was that to meet some ‘young master,’ she had to obey.

[I think it’s possible, but unlikely, because your uncle here is already part of the elite. Being the niece of a federal general, if the original owner wanted to climb the social ladder through a sugar daddy, it would imply a very bad relationship with your uncle. Or perhaps she wanted to escape from your uncle.]

Escape from her uncle? That... seemed unlikely.

Her uncle was her only family and the kindest person in the world to her—though she still didn’t fully understand this world.

“Miss, dinner is ready. It’s time to come downstairs,” Mika knocked on Sang Fuying’s door as dusk fell.

“All right, I’m coming.”

Sang Fuying left her room. In the downstairs dining room, Sang Yao sat at the table in a loose black shirt, having changed out of his uniform. Before him lay a pan-seared steak and a glass of black coffee filled with ice. On the other side were vegetable salad and pasta with a glass of orange juice.

The black shirt outlined his broad shoulders and slender waist. Beneath long lashes, his golden-brown eyes, usually warm, now appeared cold and detached, carrying an inscrutable scholarly aloofness.

“Good evening, uncle,” Sang Fuying greeted politely, taking the seat opposite him.

Her gesture caused Sang Yao to lift his gaze.

He only glanced briefly at the well-dressed girl before calmly returning his eyes to the meal.

“Planning to go to school?” the man asked casually, his tone hard and indifferent.