This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Chapter 856: 856: "iPad Kid"



Chapter 856: Chapter 856: “iPad Kid”

“Hmmm…”

Kain watched tensely as the relic examined the modified tablet, its head tilted slightly to one side. The expression on its young, cherubic face was unreadable—somewhere between fascination and utter disappointment.

“Hmmm…”

This time the relic tilted its head the other way, making a soft hum as if deeply pondering some unfathomable mystery. Kain could feel the cold sweat trickling down the back of his neck. Every moment of silence felt like an eternity. If it wasn’t satisfied again—if something went wrong—that was it. He was going to be sent back to Dark Moon and might not get another chance to earn its cooperation.

The relic finally reached out, its small hand brushing the surface of the tablet. The tips of its fingers glowed faintly as it began to tap around, mimicking the motions Kain had shown before. It seemed to recall where Kain had gone wrong, pressing the same app with the eye icon that had made the screen go black during his first attempt.

This time, the screen stayed on. Instead of dying, it displayed a clean, white and blue home screen with a simple message: No broadcasts available.

The atmosphere grew colder. Kain could feel the temperature drop, the air around them growing heavy as if a storm were forming. The relic’s golden eyes dimmed in displeasure. Kain, sensing the danger, jumped in quickly—and loudly.

“Ah! That’s actually normal!” he said, forcing a grin that probably looked more like a grimace. “You see, that’s a personal broadcasting app! It connects to my own device.” He held up his much smaller tablet—his phone—like a shield. “Since I’m not streaming anything right now, there’s nothing showing up on your end.”

The relic blinked, unimpressed.

Kain hurriedly turned on the camera on his phone and clicked the matching app with the same eye icon. The tablet in the relic’s hand pinged, displaying a new notification. A single line of text appeared: 1 user you follow is live.

The relic tapped it. The image that appeared next made it blink—its own figure, sitting exactly as it was, viewed from a slightly different angle through Kain’s camera.

It worked.

Kain coughed into his fist to hide the huge grin spreading across his face. Note to self: reward the dwarves later. Maybe double their production quotas for a year.

He cleared his throat. “A-as you can see, the system works perfectly. Of course, we can’t stream all the time—”

The relic’s head turned slowly toward him. Its golden eyes flickered, turning faintly red.

“Why not?” it asked. The voice was no longer singular—it was layered, echoing as though a dozen children were speaking at once.

Kain froze. His heart skipped a beat. The last thing he needed was to provoke whatever this being was. He quickly waved his hands. “B-because, uh—there will be times when we’re asleep! Or, you know, eating! Or bathing! Nothing interesting to see, right?”

The pressure in the air eased a little. Kain exhaled shakily and continued, forcing a calm tone. “That’s why I installed this other app for you. It’s, um… got a lot more people to watch.”

He moved slowly, like he was trying to take food away from a wild animal without getting bitten, and clicked another icon on the tablet. The app’s logo—a familiar swirl with bright pink and gold hues—would have been instantly recognizable to anyone from the Celestial Empire. It was StarStream, the number-one livestreaming platform in the Empire.

Under the relic’s cold, unblinking gaze, Kain swiped through the feed. Each flick of his finger brought up a new stream—a mage showing spellcasting tricks, a beast trainer showing off her pets, a cooking show, a traveling bard, and more.

Though its face remained impassive, the relic’s eyes gradually lost their red hue and returned to a brilliant gold—and even began to sparkle. Its pupils dilated slightly with every swipe. When Kain swiped again, it suddenly moved.

The tablet vanished from his hands.

Kain blinked in confusion, realizing the relic had taken it at a speed so fast he hadn’t even seen the motion. It was now sitting cross-legged in midair, eyes glued to the screen.

The current stream featured a young woman using puppets to teach moral lessons to children. Her cheerful, overacted tone filled the room as she burst into song about being nice to one’s friends. The relic leaned forward, completely engrossed.

Kain stared. Is it… seriously watching a children’s show?

Serena covered her mouth, fighting a laugh. Kain’s lips twitched. Like its appearance, it really is just a kid at heart, he thought. Though my self-preservation instincts forbid me from ever saying that out loud.

Ten minutes passed. The relic didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Its entire world was that singing woman and her puppets.

Kain coughed softly.

No response.

He coughed again, louder.

Still nothing.

Finally, Kain leaned in and launched into a deliberately exaggerated coughing fit right next to its ear. The relic flinched, its golden eyes tearing away from the screen—and Kain instantly regretted it. He could see the faint red bleeding back into its eyes, its multi-toned voice rising again as it spoke through clenched teeth.

“You… interrupted.”

Kain immediately straightened, waving his hands like a man surrendering to a wild beast. “S-so are you satisfied with my gift?” he blurted. “About our trip to the East…?”

The relic’s red faded gradually as it calmed down, the layered voices fading until only its usual childlike tone remained. It blinked, remembering why Kain and Serena were even there. Then, to Kain’s astonishment, it coughed—awkwardly.

“Hmph. Barely acceptable,” it said, trying to sound aloof. “I suppose your device is sufficient.”

Kain quickly nodded, relief flooding through him. “Then—”

“I will transfer you both to the East,” the relic interrupted. And before either of them could so much as thank it, it waved its small hand.

Light enveloped Kain and Serena, swallowing them whole. Their bodies dissolved like mist.

As soon as they were gone, the relic sighed in relief—not from exertion, but impatience. It turned back toward the tablet and tapped to replay the children’s song it had been watching.

“Be kind to your friends, sing loud and long~

Sharing and caring makes everyone strong!”

A cushioned lounge chair materialized behind it, and it plopped down comfortably, eyes locked on the screen. In its hand appeared a bag of something resembling popcorn, conjured purely from energy.

This strange media was completely new to it—after all, entertainment wasn’t something collected or archived by its creators. Only knowledge necessary to fight the Abyss had ever been deemed worth preserving. Yet this… this was fascinating.

With a lazy flick of its hand, the relic adjusted the volume and began to hum along, entirely forgetting about the two humans it had just hurled across the world.


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