Xiao Cai, Xiao Cai.

Xiao Cai: Master, I’m here.

Zhang Shuguang: How long has he been underwater?

Xiao Cai: World time, five minutes.

Zhang Shuguang: Can a normal person hold their breath that long underwater?

Xiao Cai: Master, he isn’t normal. He’s a beastman. Maybe his beast form can breathe freely underwater?

Zhang Shuguang: …I actually think you have a point.

Xiao Cai: Master, fish-catching mission complete.

Gained 5% battery charge. Current battery: 39%.

Gained 5 points. Current points: 5.

Gained 100 experience points. Current XP: 100/100.

APP upgraded to Level 1. Cabbage seeds unlocked. Can retrieve seeds anytime.

Zhang Shuguang: Leave it for now. We’ll see when we need it.

Xiao Cai: Understood. Friendly reminder, Master: During shutdown, the phone naturally consumes 3% battery per 24 hours. In standby mode, it naturally consumes 8% per 24 hours. Chatting consumes 1% battery every five minutes on average.

Zhang Shuguang’s mouth twitched several times. This was truly an unfair clause—battery drained whether he used the phone or not.

Zhang Shuguang: If I skip tasks and let the phone run out of power, what happens?

Xiao Cai: As an alien entity, if you fail to contribute to this world’s progress, you’ll be expelled into a temporal vortex. It will shred you into nothingness.

Zhang Shuguang had only asked casually, but the answer sent a chill down his spine.

Had he boarded a pirate ship?

Was this real? Or was he being tricked?

To prove his point, Xiao Cai sent a flurry of images—all gruesome scenes of mangled flesh.

Xiao Cai: Master, please examine these photos of previous hosts who refused to recharge their phones. I’m not exaggerating—you must complete your tasks diligently.

Xiao Cai: Your current level is too low to receive further hints. Work hard to complete tasks and level up. Every 20 levels gained allows you to exchange points for plot details from the original book’s world to grasp its developments.

Xiao Cai: Five minutes of chat consumed 1% battery. Remaining battery: 38%.

Zhang Shuguang: What do you mean by “better development for this world”?

Xiao Cai: Parallel worlds form through multiple factors. Each world’s system is imperfect and requires generations of meticulous creation. You, Master, are the chosen creator.

Zhang Shuguang stared at the enlarged phone screen floating before him. The green app continuously bubbled text in pop-up frames, making him feel it resembled some pyramid scheme.

A farming app actually burdened with the mission of world creation?

But then again, the saying “Food is the foundation of the people” truly stands as an unchanging truth from ancient times to the present.

After all, you can only get things done on a full stomach!

Zhang Shuguang: Why does it feel like you’re brainwashing me? Creator, my ass—what kind of creator is as weak as me? Forget everything else, I couldn’t even complete this fish-catching task without help.

Zhang Shuguang: And your mission rewards are totally out of whack with the daily grind. Who are you trying to fool?

Zhang Shuguang: Tell me, did you force this binding on my phone because you can’t survive on your own?

The more he thought about it, the more suspicious this sudden app became.

Honestly, if it hadn’t started blabbering nonstop, he probably wouldn’t have thought much of it—just treated it like some alternate-world farming game.

But the more this app talked, the more it escalated, making it hard not to suspect it had ulterior motives. It was clearly guilty.

Why else would it waste battery power sending scary images?

And it had the nerve to boast about leaving no trace behind.

He remembered exactly how he ended up here. If coming and going were that simple, he wouldn’t be in this predicament now.

He couldn’t say for sure about much else, but Zhang Shuguang was certain of one thing: if it came down to a contest of who would crash first, him or this vegetable seed app, it definitely wouldn’t be him.

A dead phone meant a complete shutdown. The vegetable seed app clinging to it would naturally meet its Game Over, too.

Xiao Cai: …

Xiao Cai: Master, you’re not going on strike, are you?

Xiao Cai: You’ve already accepted the task, Master! You can’t quit halfway!

Xiao Cai: As a modern person, you should at least have basic honesty and integrity!

Zhang Shuguang looked at the head finally surfacing from the water, his heart finally settling. He then told Xiao Cai, “Honesty and integrity aren’t used like this. If you want me to be honest and trustworthy, you should at least be honest yourself first. Did your battery drop another 1%? Shut down first. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Xiao Cai: Master, please consider partnering with me. Cooperation leads to mutual success!

Zhang Shuguang rolled his eyes subtly. Shut down!

The semi-transparent phone screen vanished. Zhang Shuguang waved at Mang Jiu swimming toward him. “Mang Jiu, come back! We’ve got enough fish!”

Mang Jiu swam swiftly through the water. Barely three seconds after Zhang Shuguang spoke, he had already covered the distance of over ten meters and swam close.

Zhang Shuguang wondered if this guy was some kind of aquatic beast-form, or maybe amphibious?

All speculation about Mang Jiu’s beast-form vanished the moment he saw the massive fish the man was holding.

Beast-form be damned—had this guy hauled a great white shark ashore?!

The fish measured at least seven or eight meters long. Its body was bluish-gray, its belly pale white, and its back bristled with over a dozen sharp, upright spines. Its massive jaws revealed two rows of saw-toothed fangs, densely packed and visibly razor-sharp just from looking.

Zhang Shuguang stared at the shark-like creature, his mouth half-open in astonishment as he asked Mang Jiu, “What kind of fish is this?”

Mang Jiu swung his arm, flinging the massive fish onto the sand. Its tail thrashed a few times before going completely still.

“Fish. Big fish.” Mang Jiu untied the dripping animal-skin skirt at his waist, wrung it out, and wrapped it back around himself.

His movements were so natural that it was as if the earlier exposure hadn’t happened to him at all.

Zhang Shuguang’s attention was drawn by his actions. His gaze drifted involuntarily, landing on that particularly impressive area.

!!! His reflexes made him glance down at himself, instantly feeling a pang of envy.

Both males, yet the disparity was staggering.

Mang Jiu wrapped the leather skirt around himself, glanced at the fish on the shore, and frowned. “Why are there fewer?” He knew exactly how many he’d caught.

Zhang Shuguang cleared his throat. “I wasn’t very skilled at first. Some slipped away with the current. But this is enough to eat.”

Mang Jiu looked at him and slowly nodded. “Alright, let’s go.”

Zhang Shuguang: “Where?”

“Back,” Mang Jiu pointed at the fish on the ground and asked, “Pick the ones you want to eat. Throw the rest away.”

“Throw them away?” Zhang Shuguang’s eyes widened. “You caught all this just to discard it? That’s such a waste! As long as they’re not poisonous, they’re all edible. Fresh sea fish is the best.”

“Not tasty,” Mang Jiu replied flatly. “Too many bones, bitter, overpowering flavor.” His expression remained neutral, but the disdain in his eyes nearly overflowed.

Zhang Shuguang chuckled. “Let me cook them for you. I guarantee you’ll be raving about it. My cooking is top-notch. Can I take all these back? If we can’t finish them, we can dry them into fish jerky.” He gestured at the dozen or so fish on the ground.

Mang Jiu didn’t quite grasp the implication, but it didn’t stop him from being willing to keep this peculiar sub-beastman around. He nodded. “Fine. Take whatever you want.”

Seeing his cooperation, Zhang Shuguang suddenly remembered their current relationship was a bit ambiguous.

Seeing the other about to grab the fish directly with his hands, he called out, “You could find some vines to string them up and carry them back, like this.” He raised his hands to demonstrate.

Mang Jiu gave a soft “Oh” and obediently went into the nearby woods to search for vines.

Zhang Shuguang crouched down, straightening each fish one by one as he examined them closely.

He noticed these sea fish differed slightly from those in his memories—they were considerably larger in size and had some variations in appearance. Yet, certain similarities could still be discerned, much like how the largest ‘shark’ bore resemblances to its counterpart in his original world.

Never mind. Mang Jiu hadn’t mentioned the names of these fish anyway, so he’d just call them by the names he remembered.

His hand brushed over the shark’s skin. A layer of fine scales covered it, not sharp but giving a slightly rough feel.

Zhang Shuguang licked his lips. This was shark meat! He could actually eat shark!

He wondered what shark meat would taste like.

The fish was too large for a single pot stew. Half-boiled, half-grilled—the flavor would surely be exquisite!

Lost in thoughts of recipes, he heard Mang Jiu’s footsteps approaching.

He noticed this man always made deliberate noise when nearing him, as if afraid of startling him, giving advance warning.

“Will these do?” Mang Jiu waved the vines he was holding.

Zhang Shuguang pulled one taut. It felt sturdy and remarkably flexible—about two centimeters wide, with a smooth surface devoid of any burrs. A long, dark green vine, like an alternative version of thick yarn.

“Are these vines plentiful?” Zhang Shuguang crouched on the sand, threading the vine through the fish’s gills as he asked Mang Jiu.

Mang Jiu initially watched his movements. After Zhang Shuguang threaded two fish, Mang Jiu reached out to take over. With his greater strength, he worked much faster.

“There’s plenty growing over there. Want some? I’ll go gather it,” Mang Jiu offered.

“No need, no need. Let’s head back first. We can come back for it later,” Zhang Shuguang said, snatching the remaining fish from Mang Jiu as he slung the shark over his shoulder. “I can help.”

He hadn’t forgotten Mang Jiu’s words: whatever he picked up was his.

After dinner, he planned to have a proper talk with the other guy. Even if he was a wild man, he couldn’t be completely devoid of emotional pursuits!

This kind of directness was really too much for him to handle.