The sickly little one was adopted by a wealthy foreigner and became a favorite.

Just as the group was wondering what was going on, the doctor had already taken out a high-grade nutrient solution and fed it directly to the cub.

Maureen asked from the side:

"Isn't this awful...?"

In his memory, children didn't like drinking nutrient solutions; only the poor who couldn't afford solid food and the army on the march would eat nutrient solutions.

Even nobles, if they had the means, would never touch something with such a terrible taste.

The doctor said, "Right now, we're just trying to maintain his vital signs. Once we get back, we'll grind the eggshells into powder and feed it to him."

Now, their newborns eat the eggshells to supplement their nutrition, because newborns are very fragile and have difficulty eating; this is an instinct ingrained in their genes.

However, ordinary chicks can at least break the eggshell after hatching.

This child couldn't even crack the eggshell; it was truly heartbreaking.

This delicate and frail child, under everyone's gaze, actually opened his mouth on his own initiative, revealing his small mouth with only one or two milk teeth, and firmly took the syringe of nutrient solution into his mouth, sucking on it.

"He wants to live..."

The doctor spoke very softly, but the little guy's wildly waving hand gripped Winston's finger tightly.

It's like a cub fighting desperately to survive for its father.

Looking at the cub, Winston made up his mind that even if the little guy was born with congenital defects, he would spoil him and make him the happiest child in the world.

For no other reason than that he is Winston's son.

The little guy diligently drank the nutrient solution, and the few stray hairs sticking up on either side of his sideburns looked like two little cat ears, trembling with his sucking movements.

cute.

Winston's heart softened at the sight. Then he remembered how the couple outside had mistreated his child, how they had prevented his child from being in the safe environment of the incubator, and instead had made his child grow up in the mud...

Winston's murderous intent began to rise.

He picked up the little guy himself, supporting his soft neck and back, and turned to leave.

The little guy felt a long-lost sense of security, completely hidden under Winston's cloak.

Just like inside an egg, it was gently held and stroked by its father's large hand.

The little one was exhausted and soon fell asleep.

When he woke up, Winston had already started the journey home with him.

The little one was being held in his father's arms, so he could smell a hint of blood in his father's breath.

That was Winston dealing with the people who were bullying his child; he accidentally got some blood on the hem of his cloak.

Unfortunately, the little guy slept soundly the whole way, so Winston held him the whole time, not daring to make any movements or change his clothes.

Winston held the baby himself the whole time, and even when the doctor expressed his concerns, he refused to hand the cub over.

The doctor had never seen a parent with such severe separation anxiety before…

Perhaps it's because the psychological changes are different when incubating an egg alone compared to when both parents are healthy and share the incubation tasks?

The doctor, preoccupied with some academic matters, tiptoed closer to Winston:

"Your Majesty, we need to check on the little one. It's not safe for you to hold him with one hand like that. He might roll over and fall off."

Winston could only slightly lift his cloak:

He was very quiet.

"Not moving at all."

Although Winston had never personally raised children before, compared to his grown-up children, this little guy was indeed unusually quiet in Winston's eyes.

The doctor's heart melted as he watched the little one curled up in his father's arms, sleeping, his tiny back rising and falling with his breath.

"Why is he so small..."

In Winston's hands, it was even smaller.

The little guy seemed to sense that someone was watching him, so he kicked his legs in mid-air, turned his head somewhat blankly, and looked at the world with adorable eyes.

"He's really not noisy at all!!"

The doctor was so surprised he almost lost his voice.

No wonder, who could resist liking such a special, well-behaved yet fragile child?

The cub wrinkled its nose, smelling the disinfectant on the doctor.

But he didn't know what these smells meant. He just sensed a familiar scent around him, so he turned his head again, wanting to lean against his father's chest.

After he threw himself on his father, he turned his head and tried to sneak a peek at the doctor.

But the doctor and his team were already on their way to examine the cub, so he hadn't yet noticed the little guy's actions.

So the little guy looked at it several more times.

Until the doctors set up all sorts of instruments.

They were the medics on board the warship, and they were extremely skilled at caring for uncooperative patients and physically strong patients.

But after treating them for so long, suddenly going from examining large, ferocious beasts to examining tiny dwarf rabbits that could be held in one hand... the difference is just too obvious.

Almost everyone handled the little guy with extreme care, as if they were handling feathers.

The cub lay on the examination table, a tiny ball, making the table seem even larger and colder. The instruments, too, with such thick tubes wrapped around the cub's hands, were a sight to behold and a cause for anxiety.

Winston clenched his fists and stared intently at the child.

Thankfully, the doctor acted quickly, otherwise they were really afraid that Winston would get angry and turn into his beast form to slap them all.

The doctor, holding a thick stack of test reports, replied:

"The little guy's gene sequence is different from that of ordinary people. He seems to have regressed to his ancestral form. His blood and other data are almost identical to those of ancient humans... This is really of great research value..."

However, before the doctor could finish speaking, he noticed Winston's gaze, quickly coughed, and said seriously:

"In short, the little guy's physical condition is just like that of the old humans—extremely, extremely fragile. Moreover, his blood is purer than our genes, so we don't know how he will develop in the future..."

"In addition, he has some bruises and fractures of varying sizes, as well as mild shock symptoms, all of which were caused by previous improper care. He must now be closely monitored and cared for."

"This is the first edition of our guide to raising cubs, compiled from information on ancient humans. Your Majesty, please take a look."

The doctor picked up a book that was almost as thick as a brick and handed it to Winston.

Winston took it and actually started reading it seriously.

The doctor continued to treat the cubs.

The little guy was placed in the repair pod, and he was indeed very different from the current New Human cubs.

Winston and his siblings were born eating eggshells, and by the second day they could start learning to eat on their own. By the third day they could try eating a whole piece of food with a thicker shell, and by the fourth day they could move around on their own. They learned to speak around twenty days old, and by the age of two they could start learning hunting skills.

Their physical condition has transcended the realm of "human".

It seems that the young of ancient humans were not considered adults until they reached the age of eighteen; they were still in their infancy and needed the care and protection of their families.

After reviewing the information, Winston wondered if he could support the child.

An overwhelming sense of fear welled up inside me.

The moment Winston decides to take responsibility, he, like all new parents, will be filled with trepidation, wondering if he can take good care of the child.