TCPUAAV Chapter 1

“Energy depleted. Prepare for an emergency landing?”

 

“Energy depleted. Prepare for an emergency landing?”

 

“Energy depleted. Prepare—”

 

The cockpit was bathed in a flickering red glow as the mechanical voice repeated its warning over and over.

 

The man in the pilot’s seat sat with his legs crossed, reclining against the back of his chair. Even in such a dire situation, he showed no sign of panic. His gaze remained fixed on the cockpit window, staring long and hard at the slowly rotating gray planet outside.

 

After a long while, as if he had finally made a difficult decision, he ran his hand through the loose strands of hair falling over his forehead, pushing them back. Leaning slightly forward, his hand—muscular and defined—hovered over the striking red button before pressing it down.

 

A deep voice resonated through the cockpit: “Emergency landing!”

 

“Emergency landing procedures initiated. Please fasten your seatbelt…”

 

The high-speed shuttle ignited its last reserves of fuel. The thrusters roared as it streaked toward the gray planet at full speed.

 

On B3024, a desolate waste planet, a streak of light shot across the long night sky. Moments later, a thunderous explosion erupted from the depths of a mountain-like pile of trash.

 

The residents near the edge of the planet glanced upward but quickly returned to their routines. On this world, such sights were nothing unusual.

 

B3024, aptly named the junk[mfn]It’s called garbage/waste/junk, but I kept it the same as the synopsis to not make it too different[/mfn] star, served as the capital planet’s garbage disposal center. The towering mounds of refuse[mfn]it’s basically waste material from the galaxy/other planets[/mfn] transported here were often dealt with in the dead of night, occasionally resulting in noisy, disruptive explosions. The locals had long grown indifferent.

 

However, one person was drawn by the explosion. After hesitating for a moment, they began making their way toward the source of the sound.

 

Ruan Shiqing trudged through the mountains of refuse, his footing unsteady. He stopped to rest whenever exhaustion overwhelmed him before pressing on again.

 

The body he now inhabited was severely malnourished, littered with various superficial injuries. Having transmigrated into this weakened state only three days ago, he was still adjusting to the unfamiliar frailty.

 

After nearly forty minutes of laborious trekking, his heart was pounding painfully, tightening in protest. He had no choice but to stop once again. Fortunately, the source of the explosion lay just ahead—a crashed spacecraft.

 

The fuselage of the shuttle had been blasted into several sections, its once-sleek silver-gray coating now charred black by the explosion and heat. The cockpit’s glass canopy was entirely shattered, its doors ajar. Inside, the pilot’s seat was empty. The air was thick with the acrid stench of burnt metal and blood. A trail of blood snaked to the right, evidence that someone had managed to escape the wreckage.

 

Ruan Shiqing considered for a moment before deciding to follow the trail. Against all odds, it seemed someone had survived the crash.

 

In the vast expanse of the waste disposal site, towering piles of discarded spacecraft hulls formed shadowy spires under the pale moonlight. Interwoven beams of light and shadow painted eerie patterns across the ground. Among these shadows lay a figure, slumped at an awkward angle, head drooping, face obscured by darkness. The person appeared unconscious.

 

Ruan Shiqing approached cautiously, the dim beam of his makeshift flashlight cutting through the gloom. It wasn’t until he was close that he could clearly see the figure. The man had a gaping wound in his abdomen, about the size of a fist. The edges of the wound were charred and twisted, likely the result of a weapon that combined penetration with intense heat.

 

Despite the dire state of his injuries, the man’s white military uniform was impeccably neat. Though stained with blood and grime, the fastened collar and orderly appearance suggested a strict adherence to discipline.

 

This man was clearly a soldier—one who upheld rigid standards even in such dire circumstances. What could have led him to crash land here?

 

The innate trust and respect he held for soldiers prompted Ruan Shiqing to lean closer. He crouched down, reaching out to check for signs of breath—

 

Before his fingers could reach, an iron grip seized his wrist. The man, who should have been unconscious, abruptly raised his head, his piercing gaze as sharp as an eagle’s. “What are you trying to do?”

 

Caught off guard, Ruan Shiqing’s eyes met the man’s dark golden ones. His gaze drifted upward to take in the man’s black horns and long, neatly tied white hair. It was then that he realized this soldier was not human—they weren’t even the same species. A soldier, perhaps, but certainly not a kind one.

 

The grip on his wrist was agonizing, and the man’s words were entirely incomprehensible. Ruan Shiqing pursed his lips, shaking his head slowly to convey his harmless intentions.

 

The golden eyes narrowed as the man, Rong Heng, scrutinized him.

 

The figure before him was scrawny and sickly, his pallor waxen. The weak resistance he offered confirmed he was likely a native of this waste planet, a forgotten outcast drawn to the crash site by the commotion, with no connection to the assassins hunting Rong Heng.

 

With a derisive snort, Rong Heng released his hold and motioned with a dismissive wave. “Scram.”

 

Though he couldn’t understand the words, Ruan Shiqing understood the gesture. Not daring to linger, he quickly rose and left, afraid the man might change his mind.

 

Rong Heng’s gaze remained fixed on the retreating figure until it disappeared from view. Finally, he turned his attention back to his own gruesome wound. After a moment’s hesitation, he staggered to his feet and began making his way back toward the wrecked shuttle…

 

***

 

After returning from the depths of the trash mountain, Ruan Shiqing couldn’t stop thinking about the crashed aircraft.

 

Although heavily damaged, such a large craft was bound to yield some usable parts. If he could dismantle the valuable components before others discovered it, he might be able to sell them for some money or food.

 

In his original world, advanced technology had enabled humans to explore beyond Earth, and he was a researcher specializing in high-tech weapons and vehicles for the military. While he hadn’t yet grasped the level of technological development in this world, basic principles remained universal, and his expertise gave him confidence in handling these operations.

 

The primary obstacle was the language barrier, which left him unable to communicate with the natives to gather information.

 

Additionally, the body he inhabited now belonged to someone down on their luck—homeless and with food supplies sufficient for only three days.

 

From now on, he would have to fend for himself.

 

His thoughts inevitably returned to the crashed aircraft.

 

The man he saw yesterday was gravely injured and might not have survived the night; alternatively, he might have contacted companions and been rescued. In either case, the aircraft would likely remain abandoned at the crash site.

 

Resolving to act, Ruan Shiqing consumed the last of his food and discreetly headed back to the trash mountain.

 

Careful to avoid making noise, he first checked the man’s previous hiding place. Seeing only a dark patch of oxidized bloodstains, he exhaled in relief and briskly made his way toward the aircraft.

 

The craft had landed nose-first, leaving its front in ruins while the middle and tail sections remained relatively intact. His professional instincts took over, and instead of immediately dismantling parts, he conducted a preliminary survey of the entire aircraft. Like a child with a new toy, he lingered over each intriguing detail.

 

Unfortunately, the technology here was vastly different from that of his original world, leaving him both fascinated and perplexed.

 

After spending most of the day studying the aircraft’s structure, he began dismantling it.

 

The core components of any aircraft were its drive system and engine—critical for speed and propulsion, and thus the most valuable. He carefully removed these and stashed them securely before turning to other components. Many parts had degraded from overuse, particularly in the midsection and tail. Unable to repair them and without the means to carry everything, he reluctantly left the damaged parts behind.

 

By the time he finished, night had once again fallen over the alien planet. Twin crescent moons hung symmetrically in the sky, their cold light a constant reminder that this was not his familiar world.

 

Sighing softly, Ruan Shiqing rubbed his protesting stomach and searched the aircraft for something to eat. Instead of food, his hands accidentally activated a mechanism, causing a sleek compartment at the base of the craft to slide open, revealing an oval-shaped sealed pod.

 

The pod, featureless save for a single button, raised his hopes. Driven by hunger and curiosity, he pressed the button.

 

The three-meter-long pod opened with a soft hiss, revealing an empty interior.

 

Well, not entirely empty—a bloodstained white military uniform was carelessly tossed inside, but it was of little use.

 

Ruan Shiqing: …

 

Great. Just my luck.

 

As he prepared to close the pod, something caught his eye—a small, fluffy, snow-white bundle curled up in the farthest corner. It blended so well with the pod’s white walls that it was nearly invisible.

 

Intrigued, Ruan Shiqing bent down to investigate and was startled to find a frail animal cub.

 

The cub’s snow-white fur was soft and fluffy, with a small head tucked under its belly. Its bushy tail curled forward, encircling its body into a tight ball. Only a pair of rounded, triangular ears peeked out, their soft tips reminiscent of a pet dog he had once owned named Snowball.

 

Snowball had been a Samoyed, just as fluffy and snowy-white when it was a pup.

 

Overwhelmed by a sense of familiarity, Ruan Shiqing gently picked up the cub, only to discover it was injured. Its tightly curled abdomen bore a fist-sized bloody wound with torn flesh. Oxidized blood had dried into dark crusts around the fur, making the grievous injury all the more harrowing. The wound was so severe it seemed miraculous that the cub was still alive, as evidenced only by its faintly warm body and the barely perceptible rise and fall of its chest.

 

Ruan Shiqing recalled the injured man he had seen the previous night. While that man might have been rescued by companions, this poor cub had been abandoned, left to struggle alone until its inevitable demise.

 

Just as he was now, struggling alone in this alien world with no foreseeable future.

 

A pang of sadness struck him. Cradling the small cub tenderly, he murmured, “If no one else wants you, then come home with me.”

 

 

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Hello everyone! I’ve decided to pick up this novel since the previous translator hasn’t updated since nearly two years ago. Many thanks for Inkspire TL’s hard work! I decided to retranslate the 17 chapters regardless so that it would be easier for me to keep the flow going and for you to not find inconsistencies in the translation.

 

I’ve been dying to read this one since I’m a sucker for lil cubs! I hope you’ll enjoy it just as much!

 

Thanks for reading!