Chapter Twelve

However, Cheng Yuan noticed that the little tiger’s rate of growth seemed a bit too fast. The little tiger kept trying to squeeze itself into his desk drawer. While it’s often said that cats are like liquid, was it really amusing to turn oneself into an immobile rectangular cat loaf? Next door, the Explosive Overlord Tortoise had grown as well, but not as noticeably as the little tiger, whose size was already unique in the class. The little tiger, perched on Cheng Yuan’s chair, wedged its head into the drawer, hind legs planted on the seat, attempting—as it had yesterday—to squeeze its entire body inside.

After several attempts, it finally managed to wedge itself in with a posture Cheng Yuan hadn’t even imagined possible. Watching one paw flail in the air while pitiful cries for help echoed out, for a moment Cheng Yuan wondered if his little tiger was actually a milk cow cat in a tiger’s skin—could a real tiger truly have such intelligence?

The scene was simply too comical, so Cheng Yuan took out his phone and recorded a video. A few minutes later, the little tiger shook its head on the floor, gazing at the drawer with regret in its eyes.

Wang Ningning, who was sitting nearby, laughed and said, “Why not try getting it a cardboard box?” Cheng Yuan quietly put away his phone, then nodded in agreement. “Good idea.” As class began, the little tiger, unable to enter the drawer, did something rare—it didn’t nap. Instead, it climbed from the chair onto Cheng Yuan, placing its front paws on his head and gazing at the teacher on the podium.

After a while, the little tiger’s attention shifted to a Vermilion Sparrow perched on the ceiling fan. Suddenly, it opened its mouth and let out a cry; a white shockwave laced with blue electric light burst forth, striking the Vermilion Sparrow dead-on and knocking it from its perch.

Coincidentally, the teacher was just explaining sound-based skills. The Vermilion Sparrow tumbled to the side and landed with a heavy thud on its owner’s head. The entire room fell silent, the teacher staring at the little tiger in shock. Cheng Yuan immediately pulled the little tiger down and covered its mouth. “No shouting in class, understand? If you do that again, I’ll leave you at home.”

Then he turned to the classmate now crowned with a bird. “Lin Changxin, I’m sorry. Is your Vermilion Sparrow alright?” Startled, Lin Changxin picked up his monster and checked it over. “It’s twitching. Teacher, I need to take it to the school nurse.” The teacher, regaining composure, glanced at the lesson plan on the chalkboard. “It’s alright, Changxin. Thunderous Tiger Roar has, at most, a mild paralyzing effect compared to standard Tiger Roar. It’ll recover shortly.”

The teacher then looked to Cheng Yuan. “Cheng Yuan, could you explain to the class how you trained your monster to develop this skill?” Caught off guard, Cheng Yuan replied, “Just have it practice Tiger Roar.” The teacher nodded. “Indeed, practice makes perfect. That’s true for most skills. But how did you get it to train so many times?” Cheng Yuan considered this. “Is it really that many?” A classmate piped up, “Of course! My chubby one slacks off after an hour of practice.”

It was true—four or five hours of Tiger Roar practice a day was routine. Cheng Yuan suddenly realized the little tiger was abnormally obedient and determined. Frowning, he began to recall their training. While he’d been happily playing games, the little tiger was the one seriously training. Why was that? The little tiger was as playful and curious as any cub, but during training, it was always focused. The only time he’d ever taken it out to play was at the amusement park.

Cheng Yuan shook his head, stroking the little tiger’s head. “I don’t know, either.” The little tiger lay quietly on his lap, gazing up at Cheng Yuan with puzzled eyes, as if to ask, “Isn’t this normal?” Cheng Yuan smiled and hugged the little tiger, gently rubbing its belly. “My little tiger is the most diligent. Good job.”

Hearing Cheng Yuan’s praise, the little tiger purred happily, turning to lick his hand. Witnessing this harmonious scene, the teacher seemed to have an inkling of the reason. Stroking his chin, he mused, “Could this be it? I’ll have to observe further.”

Meanwhile, news of the little tiger’s sudden display had already begun to spread through the senior classes. “Have you heard? Cheng Yuan from Class Three, his Whitegold Tiger can already use Thunderous Tiger Roar.” Students from Class Two crowded around. “Impossible! That skill is hard to master—even adult tigers can’t always manage it.” “If you don’t believe me, ask Lin Changxin from our class. His Vermilion Sparrow was perched up there and got blasted down by that Whitegold Tiger with Thunderous Tiger Roar. Everyone saw it—even Mr. Gan, the math teacher, witnessed it.” “I still don’t believe it—it sounds too far-fetched. I need to check.”

Five minutes later, after questioning several classmates in Class Three and even running to the teachers’ office, the skeptical student was left speechless. “It’s already impressive for a cub to master Golden Armor, but to also have Thunderous Tiger Roar? That’s like having a close-combat tank—tough as nails, with both melee and ranged attacks. It’s only been a month since term started. Is this some kind of cheat?”

Soon, the news reached the six repeaters. One of them remarked, “Thunderous Tiger Roar and Golden Armor? Interesting, but it’s just a cub. I’m already on the verge of entering King rank.” None of the repeaters showed much interest; their own monsters were already approaching the threshold of King rank, and with the right opportunity, could evolve further. It was like a muscular youth having no interest in fighting a toddler—such was the gap between adult and cub.

After school, Cheng Yuan turned to Mr. Gan behind him. “Want to call this a home visit? I’ll tell my mom the teacher’s coming over and have her cook extra.” Mr. Gan smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Cheng Yuan.” Cheng Yuan quickly dialed home. “Mom, the teacher’s coming for a home visit. Cook a bit more tonight.”