The G-series child gave a playful twist and vanished around the corner, flashing an angelic smile at the old man.

Eyes locked onto the G-series child's silhouette, the old man forgot entirely about Ziye hidden behind the cream-colored cloth mask. With a lecherous grin, he lurched after her.

Ziye calmly turned on her heel and exited the room, shutting the door firmly before leading her two androids out to randomly requisition an empty apartment from passing pedestrians.

Five hours at night stretched endlessly for the old man—he'd likely collapse within ninety minutes at most.

With complete ease, Ziye slumped into sleep.

The Scout Bot exchanged a brief coded dialogue with W-Custodian using machine-specific protocols. The latter remained to conduct maintenance and guard duties while the former resumed its patrols.

Outside, the energetic youth had returned to his post; another scavenger crouched nearby tinkering with retrieved power cells.

When both spotted it approaching, tension flickered across their faces simultaneously.

The Scout Bot moved forward impassively, incapable of scanning human thoughts.

One youth abruptly stepped closer and whispered in two quick strides: "Where's the goddess? Why'd she become a kid? Is it okay to leave her with an old man?"

The Bot's voice remained dry: "Acceptable."

"You mean...?"

"No 'you means'," the Scout Bot replied, striding away.

They exchanged glances before slumping dejectedly.

If requested for assistance, they'd jump in without hesitation. But this Bot was unsettlingly composed.

Ignoring their silent yearning, it scavenged valuable items from the refuse heap to pile at Ziye's door, then swapped shifts with W-Custodian who now guarded outside while it conducted brief system diagnostics.

Morning found Ziye waking up startled by a mountain of metal parts near her entrance.

"Who dumped all this garbage here?" she exclaimed.

W-Custodian smiled gently: "Scout Bot feared potential night attacks."

"...Let's check on our little G," Ziye muttered, only to find the G-series child peeking from behind the heap.

Inviting it inside with a wave, Ziye noted its radiant dress remained perfectly pristine despite the surroundings. A nod of approval—this model was still highly efficient.

The child bounced up, burying her face in Ziye's chest while pouting: "That old man's useless! I only teased him for an hour before he gave out. Not fun at all."

The two youths lurking behind the heap stared like they'd been struck by lightning—mutely awestruck by one thought: Wow, gods are truly divine, and their kin just as formidable!

After soothing her companion, Ziye approached the pile with a command: "You two, shall we emerge now?"

The youths scratched their heads awkwardly before stepping forward.

"Where's breakfast?" Ziye asked.

Pointing to the dining hall, one answered. Nodding, she added: "Any of you wanting to join me today first handle this pile? Otherwise—get permanently disabled and tossed in with the trash."

The youths exchanged glances, about to protest when Ziye had already turned toward the dining area.

In this old man's home, Ziye enjoyed hotel-like comfort. After breakfast, herself and three androids marched triumphantly up Garbage Hill.

Garbage Planet's resources vastly exceeded Silver Sign Star's reserves.

Their only difference lay in its inhabitants.

Silver Sign people were either hardened spacefarers with survivalist tenacity or scientists brimming with knowledge and skills. They transformed a desolate world into livability through expertise—proving knowledge truly alters fate.

Garbage Planet's natives remained indigenous, born into endless refuse. Though their living conditions were harsh, they'd grown accustomed to it. Even if they wished for change, lacking the means left them trapped in cycles of degradation.

Last night Ziye had already noted one gatekeeper youth with exceptional potential—had he been given better education and guidance, he could have become someone extraordinary. Hence her insistence on clearing debris before following her.

Ziye assigned the G-series child to manage this task while she returned to studying carrier-class ships. Having mastered battleships, raiders, and dreadnoughts, carriers represented the next tier of progression.

She immediately accessed Pea Seed's backup files, quickly losing track of time. Bored, the child performed "Bengcha Cha" dance routines on empty ground for thirty minutes until someone arrived. The sight nearly caused nosebleeds from a passerby—after all, a girl in a delicate dress dancing on a male-dominated planet was pure temptation.

"Big brother," she cooed sweetly when someone approached, "where's your stuff?"

Wiping his nose, the youth asked: "What stuff?"

The child scowled: "No item? Get lost!"

Before he could argue further, her hands on hips barked: "Scram!" To anger a woman was unforgivable. With drooping shoulders, he retreated just in time to see another with equipment heading his way—sudden enlightenment prompted him to bolt instantly. Definitely couldn't let someone else take the lead!

As the child continued dancing down Garbage Hill, more spectators gathered. One stealthy type thought no one was watching and attempted to touch her waist... until a sharp "Ah!" echoed through the crowd as her arm snapped into an unnatural Z-shape. The dance never faltered—half-turning with a kick that sent him rolling several meters.

Undeterred, she completed another full rotation. Onlookers' admiration transformed into sheer awe; even those harboring desires dared not act. Wow! Not only gods were terrifying—but their little nieces could be equally ruthless!

After finishing "Bengcha Cha," the child surveyed her growing audience and ordered them to line up according to arrival order for product inspections. Deceitful attempts? Kick. Substandard work? Kick. Scheming shortcuts? Kick.

One wailed: "We weren't supposed to be on detail duty, how'd it turn into a talent show?! How could you do this?"

The child sidelong glanced at him and kicked him away with contempt: "No ability yet shouting nonsense!"