The Cub Raised in a Horror Game - Chapter 2 - His Little Hell

Within the Realm of Refining Space, every single thing had already been secretly marked with a price, and humanity was no exception.

Chu Wang’s heterochromia allowed him to see the value and information of all objects, and in his line of sight, the items inside the small base were mostly marked with the gray designations of Expired, Defective, or Garbage.

When he looked towards the other children, the designation above their heads was [Wanderer Child (Unregistered)].

The names the children chose for themselves did not seem to be recognized by the rules that his eyes could perceive.

In the 36^th floor of this world, the players Chu Wang had seen mostly had the designation of [X-Tier X-Level Player] above their heads, while vagrant players would have the three extra characters ‘Wanderer.’

Once Chu Wang formed a connection with them, their names would appear above their heads. No matter how they changed their appearance, they could never escape his eyes.

He was unable to see his own information, but he imagined it was likely similar to the unregistered designation of the other children.

It could thus be seen just how unique Inia’s identity was.

The young boy reached out and held her tightly, cherishing the warmth of having her in his arms.

He was already fourteen years old this year, and in the Realm of Refining Space, children of thirteen or fourteen were already considered adults, capable of entering dungeons alongside grown-ups.

Although he was on the lean side, Chu Wang was a child who had grown up enduring trials in the brutal 33rd floor, and the wanderers who had previously witnessed his ruthless nature and his insistence on an eye for an eye treated him as a troublesome adversary rather than an underage boy.

Unless there was a profit to be gained that was worth staking one’s life on, the wanderers would not choose to antagonize him. In the eyes of other adults, he was a tough nut to crack.

Therefore, during the day when vagrant activity was frequent and dangerous, it was always Chu Wang who took turns with the other children to go out and search for supplies; relying on his eyes, he could always bring back some useful items.

On the morning he encountered the baby, Chu Wang went as usual to the mountainous and endless junkyard to scavenge for scraps.

In Chu Wang’s fully activated vision, countless dark gray markers indicating trash and defective items surged and multiplied, yet the young boy, tempered by years of training, remained composed as he sifted through them in search of something valuable.

It was just at this moment, within this gray ocean, that a pure white luminescence flashed past, like sunlight piercing through dark clouds.

Chu Wang, who had grown accustomed to the world being a dull gray, froze; he almost thought he was experiencing a hallucination. It wasn’t until that brightly dazzling white light reappeared before his eyes that he instinctively rushed toward it.

Layer after layer of heavy clouds dissipated, and only when nothing stood in his way did the young boy stop, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

At the foot of a scrap metal mound within the ocean of garbage, a frail infant was curled up inside a container similar to an eggshell, the tiny bundle wrapped in what seemed like egg white… or rather, amniotic fluid?

Her large eyes were brimming with tears, her small mouth was pouted, and she looked utterly wronged.

A gust of wind blew by, the baby sneezed, and was startled by herself, immediately bursting into a cry.

Chu Wang, who had been staring blankly at the [Lord] designation above her head, finally snapped out of it and hurriedly took off his jacket.

The boy’s outer garment was a salvaged black leather jacket; he squatted beside the eggshell, intending to wrap the baby, but then worried the jacket wouldn’t be comfortable enough, so he simply stripped off the hoodie he was wearing as well, and only then did he gently lift her into his arms.

The small infant was almost weightless in his hands; he wiped the damp baby dry and wrapped her in the warm hoodie, and her crying gradually subsided.

Concurrently, the information above the baby’s head changed to [Lord: Inia (Infant)].

Looking at that short line of text, a storm raged in Chu Wang’s heart.

During the eight years he was fostered by that pair of adults, he was constantly lectured: the only way to achieve his personal worth was to be able to enter a dungeon in the future and help his parents defeat a boss; a failure was not worthy of being their son.

Having grown up studying the dungeon data his parents had collected, Chu Wang knew well that every final boss was known as the Lord of the Dungeon. What kind of lord they were, however, depended on the dungeon’s core concept and the unique power that defined its world.

In other words, this infant in his arms, so fragile that a mere gust of wind seemed capable of harming her, was also a Dungeon Lord?

Chu Wang lowered his head to gaze at the baby in his embrace.

Players and dungeon bosses seemed to be the two sides of a coin, destined for endless conflict.

The territory Chu Wang stood on, and the ideology instilled in him since childhood, seemed to be urging him to quickly kill this powerful enemy before she grew up. Even if he couldn’t bear to do it, he should immediately inform the other players and report the news to the Realm of Refining System.

The fact that an infant boss would appear in the Realm of Refining Space was a matter that deserved player vigilance.

But…

The young boy held the infant tighter, his expression terrifyingly calm, his black right eye hidden in the shadow, while his silver-gray heterochromatic eye shimmered with cold light, like an ice field under the sun.

But what could he do? Compared to the Dungeon Lord, with whom he had no past enmity, he seemed to crave the lives of those hypocritical and detestable adults much more.

If this was the key to hell, he couldn’t wait to invite every player to burn with him in the flames until nothing remained but ash.

Chu Wang brought Inia back; he did not tell the other children the truth.

As unregistered orphans, just surviving was difficult, leaving them no spare energy to focus on matters outside of survival. They would not understand the significance of Inia’s identity and knowing too much would make things unsafe.

In the blink of an eye, several months passed.

The baby, who had been as tiny as a kitten back then, had grown a little but still appeared somewhat malnourished.

Chu Wang felt this might be due to her identity; the way she was hatched indicated she was no ordinary child.

He had previously recalled how some fledglings absorb their own egg fluid and shell for nutrition and had fed all the liquid inside the eggshell to Inia, grinding the eggshell into powder and giving it to her, mixed with water, until it was all consumed.

Based on the results, it seemed to have worked. Although the baby had never been given milk like other children, relying on the egg powder and food paste, she had grown to the appearance of a healthy seven or eight-month-old infant.

Perhaps his guess was correct: the Dungeon Lord needed to consume other things to strengthen herself, and ordinary food was not high enough in nutrition for her. Therefore, even though the children tried their best to feed her the best available items, Inia still didn’t look much stronger.

Chu Wang had yet to experiment to find out exactly what Inia needed, which led to another problem.

He had brought the baby back with the idea of opening Pandora’s Box, and because he knew a lot about various dungeons, the young boy had even prepared himself for the night when Inia would extend six tentacles from her mouth and rip him open.

Yet, several months had passed, and nothing happened; the baby was still just a cute baby.

In fact, because he had been the one to personally care for her 24 hours a day during the first month, Inia was most attached to him among all her older siblings.

If she couldn’t see Chu Wang for a period of time, she would protest with ‘aah-aahs,’ forcing Chu Wang to adjust the baby’s schedule, having her sleep during the day so he could go out to scavenge for supplies while she was asleep and return promptly to be with her.

Thinking back to how he had once wanted to drag everyone down into hell with him, and then glancing at the little “Hell” before him—wiggling her tiny hips as she struggled to crawl forward—

He could only conclude that this development was nothing like what he had imagined; in fact, it was entirely unrelated.

Had he misunderstood something?

Chu Wang, whose descent into darkness had been forcibly halted, couldn’t quite understand why, yet his hands moved on instinct—swift and practiced—as he scooped the infant into his arms to keep the fragile Inia from exhausting herself by crawling too much.

The baby, whose movements had been restricted after only a few steps, immediately became unhappy. She squirmed in the young boy’s arms, her legs kicking powerfully, clearly stating her desire for freedom.

But her clumsy brother, who was perpetually oblivious to her needs, only said with gratification, “Nia is getting stronger; that’s great.”

Inia let out a soft whine, just about to cry a protest about her grievance, when her cunning brother produced a handmade toy crafted from scrap plastic, successfully making her forget her complaint.

It was uncertain whether the boy would one day fall into darkness, but the child-rearing skills he had developed over six years of caring for orphans were nothing short of unbeatable. He coaxed the little “Hell” until she was completely entranced, utterly powerless against his gentle mastery.

That evening, the orphans gathered for a warm dinner.

They used rainwater to boil wild vegetables and rat meat, reheating a few salvaged leftovers to create what felt like a rare and hearty feast.

The baby was eating half a bag of biscuits that Chu Wang had found at the recycling station; he softened the biscuits and fed them to her.

Sweets were a rare delicacy, and every child, apart from Inia, was offered a piece, yet they all, in unison, refused.

“Let Inia eat it; let her eat more so she can grow up big and strong.”

Chu Wang shook his head. “The baby shouldn’t eat too much of one thing. Hurry and eat—only when you’re full can you protect her.”

Trusting their older brother, the orphans accepted the biscuits, though each only took a small bite before carefully saving the rest.

Chu Wang mashed the cooked wild vegetables and strips of meat into a soft puree and gently fed it to Inia, spoonful by spoonful.

He was still weak, and his ability had its limits, while the baby seemed to be at a higher rank than him. On an ordinary day, using his full power allowed him to glimpse others’ statuses for a short while, but when it came to Inia, he had to stay fully focused even while operating at maximum capacity—and that was utterly exhausting.

Despite this, Chu Wang habitually used his ability every night before falling asleep to check Inia’s detailed information.

[Lord: Inia (Infant)]

[Status: Full, Sleepy.]

Seeing that she was in a comfortable state, the young boy finally felt reassured.

He leaned sideways, gently patting the baby beside him until she drifted off to sleep.

The small scrapyard base soon echoed with the sound of steady snores. Except for the child assigned to keep watch that night, all the orphans, worn out from the day’s work, had already fallen fast asleep.

Having successfully gotten the child through another day, Chu Wang let out a quiet sigh of relief. Just before drifting off to sleep, a faint sense of having forgotten something crossed his mind.

He mentally went over the day’s routine: he had given the baby a balanced diet, made sure she didn’t crawl around too much, and she’d been cheerful all day without a single tear. He had changed her diaper, kept her clean, and ensured she hadn’t caught a chill.

Everything was fine.

He shouldn’t have… forgotten anything, right?