The simply furnished room was pitch black, save for the screen in the study glowing with a faint blue light. Occasionally, the rhythmic BEEP BEEP of message notifications echoed in the silence.
Just then, the faint sound of footsteps approached from the kitchen, and a figure gradually came into focus.
BEEP BEEP BEEP—
The notification sounded again. The person's steps faltered slightly, and without any discernible movement, her figure materialized in the study like a wisp of smoke. Her speed was so incredible that it left a string of afterimages in her wake. She took a sip of her freshly brewed instant drink, casually placed the panda-shaped mug on the desk, and swiped up on the virtual screen.
[Pei Ye, are you there?]
[Are you there, Pei Ye?]
[Grandma Pei, this is a matter of life and death! Don't play dead!]
[Lord Pei, I'm calling you my lord, okay? Reply as soon as you see this, or I'm going to hack your Intelligent Brain!]
[Come out, Pei Ye! Come out! I know you're online. Don't hide behind the screen and stay silent. I know you're lurking!]
...
The time in the bottom right corner ticked by, second by second.
Pei Ye read through her friend's increasingly agitated messages, her expression as calm as stagnant water.
Her friend had gone from begging and pleading to desperate compromise, spamming over two hundred messages in a row.
Pei Ye skipped the meaningless rambling in the middle and scrolled straight down to the final few lines.
[Grandma Pei, you really can hold your composure. I concede. I yield.]
Her friend's attitude gradually softened.
[There's something I need your help with. Aren't you pretty free lately? Help me take care of a little one. Once it's done, I'll make it worth your while.]
[It's not convenient for outsiders to know about this little one's existence. After thinking it over, you're the only one I could ask to help look after it.]
[I know you don't know how to take care of kids, so I specially designed an idiot-proof raising app for the little guy. Just follow its instructions—it won't be a hassle at all.]
[I have things to do. Talk later!]
[Your friend XXX has sent you an offline file. Please check to receive it.]
The swiftness of the action made it seem like they were tossing away a hot potato.
Pei Ye stared at those words, hesitating for quite a while before finally choosing to accept the file.
She shifted from her proper sitting posture to sprawling lazily in her chair, crossing her long, straight legs and resting them on the corner of the desk while humming a popular local tune.
Download, install, open the app.
She did it all in one breath.
A second later, the Intelligent Brain's screen went black with a SNAP, before slowly blooming into a dazzling pink Star Sea.
The Star Sea converged toward the center of the Intelligent Brain's screen, forming a pink vortex.
Before long, the pink vortex condensed into a cute pink heart, beating three times to mimic a real heart. THUMP THUMP THUMP.
"Why design a raising app to be so flashy?" Pei Ye muttered.
As she spoke, the heart suddenly exploded, transforming into a flowing pink light that converged into a few large words:
[Love and Raising Cubs]
Pei Ye was left utterly speechless.
Not only was the design flashy, but it also blatantly plagiarized and borrowed tropes. Playing a game like this would lower her own standards.
She casually reached for the snacks piled in a corner of the study, tore open the biodegradable paper packaging, pulled out a potato chip, and began munching. CRUNCH CRUNCH.
While she waited, the lengthy cinematic finally ended, popping up an even more flashy logo.
It was clearly a privately made app, yet the creator had designed a series of liability waivers, requiring Pei Ye to sign them before she could enter the game.
She casually glanced at them and found the terms of the waivers to be completely idiotic.
[This is a simulation game that combines romance and raising a little one.]
[1. The little one's development is entirely controlled by the player (if the little one turns out to be an idiot, please do not fly into a rage; reflect upon yourself daily, find the problem within yourself, and say no to domestic violence). The little one's growth requires the player's full participation, so please treat it seriously. Do not slack off or abandon it halfway~~~]
[2. The little one's emotions are extremely sensitive. Please pay attention to its mood changes.]
[3. If the little one makes a mistake, please focus on guiding it. Do not use foul language.]
[4. Once activated, this game is permanently bound to the user. It cannot be destroyed or discarded.]
...
[Finally, all rights of interpretation belong to the Heavenly Brain!]
[Come hit me if you're not happy about it!]
Pei Ye was speechless once again.
Right now, she wanted to buy a ticket to the Central Planet and wipe out that bastard's lair! Of all the people to be so shamelessly flashy in front of, they just had to flaunt it in her face?
Pei Ye didn't look closely at these idiotic clauses. She scrolled all the way to the bottom in one breath, clicked agree, signed her name following the procedure, and bound her account.
As a melodious and cheerful background track started playing, the game finally began.
Pei Ye tapped casually, skipping the boring beginner's tutorial.
Compared to the flashy cutscenes and logo screen, the game's interface was surprisingly simple. The screen displayed a very basic room with four grey-white walls, a closed frosted window, a tightly shut door, a wooden table, a wooden stool, and a colorful egg resting on the stool. There was nothing else.