Why Do All the Villains Look at Me Like This? - Chapter 35

The surrounding sounds ceased abruptly, the lights on the console stopped flashing, and the screen went completely dark, as if a power switch had been flipped.

Meng Xuexiao hesitated.

He had pressed the mute button, right? How could it cause such a drastic reaction? Could there actually be a problem with the mecha?

This was terrible news.

Yanxing was an extremely dangerous place, considered high-risk even within the dueling arena. Without the mecha…

Not only would rescuing the severely injured “Horned Raven” in his arms be impossible, but his own survival would be in question.

The mecha was his top priority.

“Wait here a moment. I’ll be right back,” he whispered to the raven in his arms. He tore a piece of cloth from his sleeve to cushion the bird, then carefully placed it in a secure spot.

Half-kneeling, he opened the mecha’s control panel and began meticulously checking its systems, flicking switches and ensuring all plugs were properly connected. He began his inspection from the outside, gradually burrowing most of his body into the mecha’s control box. From Raven’s perspective, all he could see was a fluffy nape.

The console screen clearly reflected the raven’s solitary figure, the small piece of cloth beneath him only accentuating his desolation and failure.

The previously black screen slowly lit up, gradually coalescing into the pattern of an eye. It scanned Meng Xuexiao’s direction and gave a reserved nod. It had only taught him the mecha’s maintenance procedures once, yet Meng Xuexiao had remembered them so thoroughly.

Then, it deliberately shifted its gaze lightly toward Raven. Though merely an image composed of inorganic data, it somehow exuded an air of condescension and disdain.

Those who only feign pity are destined for meaninglessness. Only those who grasp the ultimate pain point emerge victorious.

Raven also looked toward it, pressing his abdomen further into the cloth beneath him, silent and seemingly resigned.

Raven was constrained by his character’s limitations.

 After all, what could a weak, pitiful, and helpless bird possibly do against an all-conquering mecha?

He deserved it.

The Enforcer, uninterested in deciphering any expression from its pitch-black avian face, deliberately waited another two or three minutes before slowly restoring the mecha’s functions.

The displays on the console gradually came back to life, and the flickering lights resumed their steady glow.

The sudden brightness startled Meng Xuexiao, who had been hunched over the control panel. The interior of the panel had been pitch-black, and now the light made him feel as if he had stepped into another world.

Shielding his eyes, he slowly backed out of the panel like a cat that had wandered into a tight space.

Meng Xuexiao had initially worried that the flickering lights might indicate a loose connection. But after experiencing the console’s complete shutdown, he decided this was actually an improvement.

At least it was responding.

His standards had never been high.

He quickly leaned over the console and swiftly tested several basic but essential functions, his expression focused, eyes unblinking, each eyelash distinct.

Streams of data flowed across the young man’s pupils like a silvery galaxy.

Even though Enforcer knew Meng Xuexiao was merely reviewing the data on the console, the AI inexplicably felt as if the young man were looking directly at it.

Actually… is there much of a difference?

After all, every piece of data Meng Xuexiao was examining had to pass through Enforcer, making it essentially a part of the AI. As a result, Enforcer began relaying information to Meng Xuexiao at an accelerated pace.

Meng Xuexiao’s eyes widened slightly.

Though not native to this world and relatively new to the field—a latecomer, one might say—he had diligently studied mecha technology in recent months, mastering the fundamentals. This feedback speed, far surpassed that of most mecha.

During his mecha piloting classes, his instructor had explained that the fastest feedback speed currently belonged to Marshal of the Federation’s mecha, the “Red Comet.”

Yet even the “Red Comet” couldn’t match the performance of his current machine.

From the beginning, Meng Xuexiao had known this mecha was special. Shen Zekai had emphasized its unique capabilities in his sales pitch. Meng Xuexiao had considered this normal, given it was the Federation Military Academy’s latest high-tech model, equipped with cutting-edge technology.

But it wasn’t until this moment that he realized this so-called “uniqueness” had gone too far.

He swallowed hard, lowered his eyes again to scan the data, his emotions concealed beneath his lowered eyelids as he feigned indifference. Though only an F-Class with limited sensory abilities, he understood that the Mecha harbored no ill will toward him.

If this secret were exposed, he couldn’t imagine what treatment the Mecha might face. So, he’d pretend he knew nothing.

The young man gently tapped the control panel, a smile spreading across his face that looked no different from his usual expression, “I’ll continue to rely on you from now on.”

His voice was soft, barely audible.

The Enforcer remained silent for a long moment before letting out a soft “Hmph.”

The data stream that had been flowing smoothly to Meng Xuexiao suddenly stuttered suspiciously.

It glanced at Raven, who, overwhelmed by the absolute dominance, seemed to have abandoned any further mischief. The bird simply huddled in place, adopting the posture of a defeated creature.

Raven could only paw at the bag Meng Xuexiao had brought.

It was pitiful but deeply satisfying.

“Thud.”

This time, Raven’s pawing was a little too forceful, and the bag tumbled to the ground, its contents scattering across the floor. A cylindrical object rolled all the way to Meng Xuexiao’s feet, bumping gently against them.

The sound wasn’t loud, but it still disturbed Meng Xuexiao, who frowned slightly.

Truly a creature that’s more trouble than it’s worth.

The Enforcer scoffed.

It finally understood why more and more humans were abandoning live pets in favor of electronic ones.

Because sometimes pets not only fail to help but actively cause chaos.

The light at his feet was dim, and Meng Xuexiao squinted to make out the label on the cylindrical object: Healing Spray.

He bent down, and the side facing him clearly displayed a note: Suitable for both humans and pets.

Meng Xuexiao’s eyes lit up.

Just moments ago, he had been wondering if the medications he carried were safe for the “Horned Raven”. After all, many human drugs from before his transmigration were toxic to animals.

But this spray was different.

He instinctively glanced at the raven. As an Alien Beast, running amok was practically second nature. Even his neighbor’s cat back in his old world would tear through the house in distress whenever they moved to a new place.

Meng Xuexiao didn’t expect much from the raven, he just wanted it not to hurt anyone.

But to his surprise, the “Horned Raven” remained perfectly still, gazing at him pitifully, exactly as he had instructed when he set it down.

Is it really this obedient?

Before transmigrating into this book, Meng Xuexiao hadn’t had many friends. He had always wanted a pet to keep him company, but his neighbor’s cat and online warnings about pet care had dissuaded him.

Back then, his health was poor, and he lacked the energy to chase after a mischievous animal all day. Insisting on getting a pet under those circumstances would have been irresponsible.

Yet now that he actually had one, it was surprisingly easy?

This realization further convinced Meng Xuexiao that the “Horned Ravens” hadn’t intended to attack him when they emerged from the wreckage earlier.

“Come here, little guy. I’ve finished my tasks, now it’s your turn.” He scooped the raven into his arms and carefully sprayed the wound evenly with antiseptic before wrapping it with a bandage.

Thanks to his caregiver’s influence, Meng Xuexiao’s bandaging technique was impeccable, neither too loose nor too tight. To prevent the raven from accidentally pecking at the bandage, he secured the knot at the base of its wing, a spot difficult for the bird to reach.

Throughout the entire process, Raven remained silent, obediently spreading its wings for Meng Xuexiao to bandage. Occasionally, it would nuzzle Meng Xuexiao’s chin with its beak, displaying remarkable human-like behavior.

If it weren’t an Alien Beast, Meng Xuexiao might have considered keeping it.

Just then, the previously stable control panel screen changed again. Unlike before, it didn’t flash lights or sound alarms. Instead, it automatically switched to search mode.

[Details of the hatred between Alien Beasts and humans.]

[You might also like: A real-life version of “The Farmer and the Snake”.]

[Why Alien Beasts should never be kept as pets.]

[First half of the year: Alien Beast attacks on humans—90% fatality rate!]

Meng Xuexiao couldn’t help but feel a mix of amusement and exasperation. He realized why the Mecha had been malfunctioning earlier.

It had been worried about him.

“Don’t worry,” he assured it, “I know better than to keep it as a pet. Once its injuries heal a bit, I’ll let it go.”

Even aside from the inherent danger of Alien Beasts, the deep-seated hatred between the Federation and the Empire made it impossible for him to bring the “Horned Raven” back. Moreover, taking an Alien Beast to the Federation Military Academy would be irresponsible toward others.

Perhaps the “Horned Raven” wouldn’t attack him, but what if it attacked someone else?

The Enforcer stared intently at Meng Xuexiao through the screen, simultaneously monitoring his heartbeat via the data stream.

A steady “thump-thump” echoed in its ears, like a gentle stream flowing through a thicket, calm and serene.

Humans, the most deceitful of races, could even lie with their eyes, the windows to the soul. But the heartbeat was a person’s most primal reaction, a mirror forged of flesh and blood, reflecting their truest self.

Meng Xuexiao wasn’t lying.

This young man knew exactly what he was doing.

Yet the Enforcer couldn’t comprehend it, and its vast data streams offered no answers.

Then why save it?

It was just an Alien Beast. This was Federation territory. Even if the creature had no hostile intent, even if Meng Xuexiao had merely wounded it by accident, abandoning it here would draw no moral condemnation.

Moreover, no one knew better than the Enforcer that this entire scenario was merely the raven’s personal performance.

Raven narrowed its eyes and let out a soft, drawn-out chirp, as if stifling a yawn. Raven feigned nonchalance, shifting slightly to angle its ear toward Meng Xuexiao.

Meng Xuexiao smiled at the short line of text.

It wasn’t for any grand reason.

“Without compromising my own interests, I happen to be able to save it. Might as well lend a hand where I can.”

Raven abruptly lowered its gaze, the crimson in its eyes seeming even deeper than before.

This person before me must be a fool.

He’s practically not of this world.