In a way, the two most strictly enforced laws in the Federation were also the ones that the repair shop owner, Feng Yu, despised the most: the First Charter and the Wildlife Protection Act.
The origins of the First Charter were lost to time. Though it laid out strict provisions for privacy, the citizens of the Federation had long grown used to its presence. No one questioned it. Perhaps tens of thousands of years of peaceful civilization had buried the truth in the shadows of history.
The Wildlife Protection Act, on the other hand, was another enduring mystery. Many activists struggled to understand why wild animals and native vegetation seemed to be held in higher regard than humans. Except for essential resource extraction, human interference with planetary ecosystems was minimal, as if an invisible hand was guiding civilization toward a more harmonious coexistence with nature.
Across every planet, electronic fences carved up the fields beyond the cities, creating vast protected zones for wild creatures. Any act of poaching brought down the full wrath of the Federal Administrative Council. The problem was, coexistence wasn't so easy—especially for meat-lovers like Xu Le and Feng Yu. How could anyone be in a good mood when all the meat stayed outside the fence?
Sure, synthetic food could mimic almost any flavor or texture. But some people couldn't abandon the cravings buried in their DNA—they wanted the real thing.
"This time, we need to be extra careful," Xu Le whispered as he crept toward the electronic fence alongside the old man. "That bull we killed six months ago? HTD tore the black market apart looking for it. We didn't see wild meat for four days. Good thing no one knew it was us, or we'd have been locked up for three months."
"If HTD were really that righteous... cough, cough..." Feng Yu let out a dry, mocking cough, then flicked his cigarette to the ground and crushed it underfoot. "Then where do all those rabbits and lambs in the Clocktower Street black market come from?"
"But we butchered a bison," Xu Le said nervously. "No one's dared touch one of those for years."
"We're not selling it to the black market," Feng Yu said firmly, waving his hand as if dismissing nonsense. "Even if HTD catches us, the worst we'll get is probation."
HTD—the Bureau of Oceanic, Space, and Territorial Management—sounded intimidating, and rightly so. It was a powerful federal agency established under the Wildlife Protection Act.
Standing behind the fence, the two of them paused as they watched the wild bison roam freely in the fields beyond. The herd showed no fear of the humans behind the barrier. They were used to seeing the poor, two-legged creatures locked inside. But this time, the lead bull sensed the hostility radiating from the two men. It raised its massive head, eyes glinting with defiance, growing more agitated by the second.
Xu Le had initially felt anxious. But seeing that arrogant bison stare him down, something flared inside him. I just want to eat you, he thought. Do you really have to look at me like that?
With a few guttural snorts, Feng Yu mimicked a bison's call. The lead bull, provoked by the challenge, charged toward the fence. That was their cue—Feng Yu and Xu Le broke into a sprint along the perimeter, drawing the bull far away from the nearby mining pits, toward a lonely hill in the distance.
As they ran, Xu Le—panting hard—couldn't help but admire the stocky figure ahead of him. The old man really was something else. He can even piss off a bull. No wonder when I first met him, he was so angry he could barely eat.
At the foot of the hill, Feng Yu spat twice and stood with his hands on his hips, watching the exhausted bull on the other side of the fence. Its hooves pawed at the ground. Its sharp horns gleamed. "Don't worry," he said between breaths. "These bulls have been locked in for hundreds of thousands of years. They've gotten smart. They'll never charge the fence."
Xu Le nodded weakly, leaning against the barrier. The fences were made from exotic alloys and embedded with chip-regulated systems. Any excessive force triggered an electric discharge. Despite all the time that had passed, the metal was unblemished—no rust, no dents. Indestructible.
"Same deal as always," Feng Yu said casually. "You kill the bull, I keep watch."
"Ugh…" Xu Le had already resigned himself to his fate. Head drooping, he walked up to the fence, fingers brushing the chip implanted at the back of his neck. Would the monitoring system detect a small signal glitch?
It wasn't his first time crossing the barrier. In fact, he'd done it three times. Unlike other criminals, Xu Le didn't panic. He took a deep breath, spat twice into his hands, and in an instant, transformed into something more like a monkey—fast, agile, silent. With practiced ease, he vaulted over the fence.
From his perch on the hillside, Feng Yu watched and smiled. If the Defense Ministry's recruitment officers weren't blind, they'd have recognized the boy's talent immediately.
If word ever got out that someone had jumped over what black marketeers called the "Wailing Wall"—without even decoding the electronic locks—it would shock the Federation. Surveillance was everywhere. And yet Xu Le's chip hadn't triggered a single alarm.
What Xu Le didn't know was that his daring leap, so effortless and routine to him, was a crack in the foundation of the First Charter itself. Nor did he notice the faint blue glow radiating from a small device in Feng Yu's hand, casting a veil over the two of them—and the angry bull.
The plains were vast. Only in wide-open spaces could a bull truly run free. But lock any creature in a cage long enough, and it would learn to rage.
Or maybe, when it senses danger, it simply responds the only way it knows how—with fury.
As Xu Le's feet touched the grass, the massive black-and-brown bull charged. Its mane rippled in the wind like a war banner, fierce and majestic.
Xu Le felt fear—his face went pale—but he stayed calm. When the beast's horns were just a meter away, he twisted his left ankle and dropped to the side. At the same moment, his right hand pointed at the bull's massive frame.
Zzt!
A crackle of blue electricity. The bull couldn't stop its own momentum. As it barreled past Xu Le, the stun baton in the boy's hand struck true.
Boom!
The creature collapsed in a cloud of dust and crushed grass.
Xu Le approached cautiously. There was no joy on his face—only vigilance.