The Cub Raised in a Horror Game - Chapter 8 - Her Majesty, the Baby, Visits Her Loyal New Home...

After that day, the children began to notice something subtle in Chu Wang’s attitude toward the baby.

It was as if… before, Brother Chu, though deeply fond of Inia, had always kept a part of himself in check—a space reserved for reason, for caution. Everyone could see his concern for her, yet he held back, consciously maintaining a distance to protect his own rationality.

Now, that restraint was gone. The last trace of invisible distance between him and the baby had completely dissolved.

Even though Chu Wang had never been one to show his emotions, everyone sensed that he was genuinely happy.

When Chu Wang went to catch up on sleep, Charlie whispered to Lina, “It’s been so long… this is the first time I’ve seen Brother Chu this happy.”

Charlie and Lina were the two oldest children besides Chu Wang. Both carried Western player bloodlines and had known him the longest among the group.

Lina nodded gently.

Though to the other children Chu Wang appeared the calm, reliable elder brother and leader, she remembered the boy he had been five years ago.

Back then, he had been sullen and aloof, his silver-gray left eye sharp and foreboding, hinting at a madness that could have destroyed him—or anyone around him—at any moment. Wanderers often cursed him as a mad dog scavenging in the garbage, though none dared provoke him directly.

But Lina had known the truth: beneath the harsh exterior, Chu Wang was a kind soul. That was why he tirelessly gathered children who seemed unlikely to survive, ensuring that even if he couldn’t save them, they would be buried with dignity.

Five years later, the once dark-eyed youth had grown into a protector and hero for the children. His emotions had also become more internalized, as he learned to conceal his sharpness.

He had saved the orphans, but he had never opened his heart to them. The other children adored him, yet always from a respectful, almost worshipful distance.

Perhaps the gloomy, indifferent boy of his youth still lingered within him, keeping him from accepting the warmth of others. Even while traveling with them, Lina had always sensed that Chu Wang carried a subtle loneliness.

He was different from the rest. Unregistered children rarely survived past eight, and for them, survival was all that mattered—there was no time to ponder deeper questions.

But Brother Chu was so powerful… what was it that he truly sought? No one could say.

Lina could perceive the problem, yet she could not read him. Chu Wang’s heart was sheathed in thorns, keeping everyone at a distance. Now, seeing him fully embrace the baby, she felt a genuine happiness for him.

A heart must harbor warmth and love if one is to live more joyfully.

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After her massive feast at Dreist’s castle, Inia was practically brimming with inexhaustible energy.

Introduced to her new surroundings by her older siblings, Her Majesty, the Baby, earnestly explored every new and strange corner of the base.

The new base consisted of several large shipping containers. Some were partially destroyed, with jagged holes or missing walls, while others remained mostly intact. They were spaced six to ten meters apart, with waist-high weeds growing around them.

Even though the location of their new home was very remote and sparsely populated, the children remained vigilant, choosing to live separately in three different containers to prevent being cornered and wiped out all at once. The weeds near the containers were also left uncleared, so as not to reveal that people lived there.

Compared to their cramped home atop the scrap metal mountain, this space was far more generous. The six children and the baby finally had room to breathe. According to Chu Wang’s calculations, they could remain here for at least two or three months without moving, safely out of reach from regional purges.

The orphans took turns watching over Inia. They assumed Chu Wang, exhausted as he had been, would sleep for at least a full day. To their astonishment, he emerged from the container just two hours later.

“Brother Chu, why are you awake already? Won’t you sleep a little longer?” one of them asked.

Chu Wang shook his head. “I’m already rested.”

T The others exchanged disbelieving looks; anyone could see how drained he had been just hours ago.

They were about to urge him to go back to sleep, but upon closer inspection, Chu Wang’s condition seemed genuinely restored to its peak. He looked completely refreshed and energetic, like clothes that had just been washed and hung out to dry—brand new and clean.

…Could two hours of sleep really be that effective?!

Amid their murmured astonishment, Chu Wang held Inia and looked down at her, his emotions a tangle of awe and curiosity.

In his dream, he had entered a strange space: six sides shimmered like the Milky Way, stars sparkling and meteors streaking across the galaxy. Though it was his first time there, a familiar aura emanated from the place.

Could this… be Inia’s world?

Chu Wang was a little incredulous.

Until a familiar, worn gift box appeared in the corner of the star room. Chu Wang remembered it as the small treasure box six-year-old Xiao Shi had given the baby, filled with her usual toys and cherished trinkets.

He opened the box and saw bouncy balls, paper cranes folded from scrap paper, a tiny cricket woven from straw, and other small curiosities. As he watched, a delicate daisy appeared in the center of the box.

Seeing these familiar little things, the young boy became certain—this was Inia’s world. Yet her small space seemed only a few square meters in size and still felt incomplete.

Chu Wang didn’t feel like he had stayed there long—just enough time to ponder a few questions—before the star room suddenly ejected him.

Waking up from the sleep, he felt his previously depleted power had been replenished, his body’s fatigue had completely vanished, and even his left wrist, which constantly ached from years of heavy strain, was fully recovered!

The baby’s space had healed him.

Chu Wang held Inia, his heart filled with shock.

Was this the baby’s ability? As a Dungeon Lord, was her power not destruction, but of… healing?

Although he had many questions, Inia was still just a baby who had just learned to speak. The fastest way to uncover her secrets would probably be several years from now. Chu Wang was in no hurry. His greatest hope for the baby was simple: that she would grow up healthy. Nothing else mattered more.

Since discovering that Inia had the [Full] status tag after her long sleep, Chu Wang had added this new variable to his daily observations.

For the next seven days, Inia did not actively consume any ordinary food. After ten days, she would eat a tiny bit of biscuit daily. Simultaneously, her tags alternated between [Full] and [Eighty Percent Full].

This sporadic low consumption only returned to normal after a whole month. The baby began eating three meals a day again, and the [Full] status tag finally disappeared.

From the overlapping tags, Chu Wang deduced that Inia likely required two different forms of nourishment: one from ordinary food, and the other from the energy she had digested over the course of a full month. When the latter was sufficient, it made the former less important.

The baby’s changes also showed how important the energy consumption was to her. Within that month, her body finally shed the frailty that had made them fear she might perish at any moment. While she still wasn’t as plump as an average baby in the outside world, at least her small face finally held a gentle softness.

Her small black curls had grown longer, gleaming with health. She had always been adorable even in weakness, but now, with proper nourishment, she looked like a living doll—exquisitely cute and impossible to resist.

As Chu Wang had predicted, Inia was vigorous. Once her constitution improved, she became restless, crawling everywhere. She was no longer thin, and crawling now served as good exercise. Chu Wang relaxed his restrictions, allowing her to play freely for over an hour each day. Fortunately, the container was long enough for her little “crawling marathons.”

Inia crawled quickly every day, expending energy during the day and sleeping soundly at night. While she slept better, Chu Wang began to suffer from insomnia.

He still hadn’t figured out where the baby drew her energy from. Now that more than a month had passed, he worried: would she one night go to another place in her sleep to replenish it?

Even though Inia had imprinted on him, Chu Wang feared she might leave and never return. Each night, he would wake to gently check on her, ensuring she was still there. Thankfully, she never fell into a coma-like sleep again.

Yet, despite all of Chu Wang’s precautions, he did not anticipate the baby’s dream adventures taking an entirely new form.

In her dream, Inia saw the ocean for the first time. Not the endless junkyard she knew, but a real ocean. It was silent, cold, and barren—no life, no plants, only countless ruins and broken walls scattered across the seabed, hidden beneath the sand, beyond her comprehension.

At first, she floated aimlessly, bewildered by this new world. Tiny waves lapped at her face, captivating her curiosity. Infants are born swimmers, and in this strange ocean, she needed neither breath nor caution. She quickly learned to paddle and glide across the surface, splashing and playing.

The dream consisted entirely of the boundless ocean. Since she wasn’t absorbing dark energy, Inia could frolic nightly and awaken easily during the day.

Chu Wang noticed nothing unusual.

The only side effect was her occasional urge to “swim” while crawling—then, realizing the ground wouldn’t part, she would tilt her head in confusion and continue crawling.

After a few days, Inia had learned to dive and swim freely in the ocean in her dreams. Simply splashing around in the water was enough to keep her happy every day.

The baby was a carefree little thing, blissfully simple. Yet her innate power was far more vigilant. Whenever she wandered through the icy sea, her instinctive abilities remained on high alert.

If she were older, with greater control over her power, she might have sensed the silent watchers lurking in the depths of the quiet sea.

But she was still too small, and her power too weak. Immersed in her ocean playground, the baby could only follow her instincts. She glanced left and right, like someone who hears a sound a moment too late yet sees only silence everywhere.

To any adult or player, this dead-still, silent ocean would be deeply unsettling—a primal warning to keep away. But the baby lacked such awareness. She looked around, shrugged off the odd feeling, and continued to frolic happily in the sea, completely untroubled.

Meanwhile, in the shadows and corners of the sea, countless eyes continued to observe the young, unexpected visitor.