Chapter 19

Chapter 19: happy farm

The robot led Ling Mo to another trash facility.

It was smaller than the last, but still packed with refuse—and there was something new inside: eggs that had failed to hatch.

When Ling Mo swept them with her mental power, she could sense that some were still alive. They just developed slowly and weren’t ready to break the shell yet.

But by tak fish farm standards, even if they did hatch, they would still be eliminated.

Using her mental power, Ling Mo separated the eggs that still had a chance. The ones that were truly dead—embryos that had failed in the shell—she didn’t waste either. She stored them away.

“With a little processing, these should still be edible,” she muttered.

There were always people with strong stomachs who loved that kind of thing.

She worked nonstop, only stopping shortly before the next day’s official shift began.

Outside the facility, the robot waited with a familiar bottle of blue liquid in hand.

After checking her results, it said, “You are the most diligent employee I have ever seen.”

This time, Ling Mo understood. In her shaky interstellar, she replied, “It’s what I should do.”

The robot held the blue liquid out to her. “The farm owner instructed me to give you this.”

Ling Mo took it and drank it in one gulp.

The fatigue vanished instantly. Even the lingering headache from pushing her mental power too far disappeared.

She recognized it from the System mall: advanced recovery serum.

Instantly restored stamina and mental power. Kept you at peak condition.

Worth one hundred gold coins.

Just from that, it was obvious how rich liang chen ranch and tak fish farm were.

They handed out items like this as casually as water—things ordinary players couldn’t dream of buying.

She returned to the work area. Today’s task was sorting newborn ducklings.

The two crates were there again, just like before. Ling Mo got into the rhythm quickly.

This batch was excellent. Half the day passed without a single unqualified duckling.

She didn’t complain. She simply did her job.

Even before this second game began, Ling Mo had noticed the difference. Everyone spent three days in the first game, yet most people only earned copper coins. She had earned three silver coins, plus an interstellar learning machine.

The difference had to be work quality.

Do more. Do better. Get paid more.

She had completed her assigned tasks and then taken on trash collection as well. Of course her rewards were different.

Still, repetitive labor wore on anyone. The first day had been new and exciting.

But after an entire night of collecting, Ling Mo found herself constantly waiting for the shift to end so she could “stretch her legs” again. Without realizing it, her hands started to slow.

She caught herself and shook her head hard.

No. She couldn’t think like that.

Finishing her assigned work was what protected her qualification. There was a difference between being full once and being full forever.

And sorting ducklings wasn’t a waste. It trained her mental power.

As long as a duckling was inside her coverage, she could tell immediately whether it was healthy.

She also discovered a new use: soothing.

Her mental power could calm the newborn ducklings, making them stop chirping. It could even communicate with them in a faint, simple way.

But they were newborns. They didn’t understand anything. All they could “say” were basic needs—hungry, cold, uncomfortable.

If she wanted real communication, they would have to grow.

Even so, the discovery thrilled her.

After all, she was raising plenty of animals inside her pocket space.

Most were fenced in, but there were always exceptions—like the dogs.

The border collie and german shepherd were smart breeds. After a few warnings, they learned what was allowed and what wasn’t.

But the newly acquired sled dog were a different story. They were wild, impossible to manage, like they’d been set loose on purpose.

Other people could barely handle one. She had a whole pack.

Ling Mo was already regretting bringing them back. Pulling sleds? She might as well slide around on her own.

Before she knew it, the day’s shift ended. She managed to snag ten ducklings that weren’t very healthy.

Then the gray bird arrived with the final day’s quest.

It wasn’t sorting goslings.

The quest card explained that due to machine failure, the farm’s trash had been piling up. The repair crew wouldn’t arrive for another two days, leaving the farm’s manager distressed.

A clean, fresh environment mattered for a farm stay, and because of Ling Mo’s outstanding waste-handling skills, the farm owner had hired her for the next day to clear trash across the entire farm.

Ling Mo stared at the card, reading it again and again.

The surprise hit so fast she almost didn’t believe it.

Once she was sure it was real, she immediately found the robot from yesterday, showed it the quest, and insisted she could start right away.

The robot hesitated. “There is no need to push yourself. You may rest for the night and begin tomorrow.”

Ling Mo understood enough to answer firmly, “No. A lot of people are waiting for me at home. I can’t let them down.”

The robot seemed moved and led her to an enormous warehouse.

Not a trash facility.

A warehouse.

Inside, rows and rows of machines stood in neat lines.

“These are machines the farm has retired,” the robot said. “They were to be scrapped. They are now yours. Compared to ordinary waste, these have higher value.”

Ling Mo’s eyes widened.

They were throwing these away?

These were far better than what she’d collected at liang chen ranch. Even without understanding how they worked, she could tell they weren’t broken. They looked usable.

After getting confirmation, Ling Mo went into a frenzy.

When her mental power ran out, she used her hands. She could ignore ordinary trash, but these machines had to go back to Blue Star with her.

When she finally cleared the entire warehouse, the robot led her onward, and she began collecting again—one trash facility after another.