“Actually, I’m not a rabbit! I’m a wild donkey from the jungle! I crashed into that tree ’cause my brain doesn’t do sharp turns well!”

Ou Tao’s eyes nearly popped out. “You’ve gotta be joking, right? That’s a lame joke!”

“No, I really am a donkey, not a rabbit.” She said it with perfect calm—and even wore a goofy grin, as if being a donkey was nothing to be ashamed of!

Ou Tao’s heart went ice-cold. She really *was* a donkey! Truth was, the moment he saw her ears, he’d guessed it. But he’d hoped—*please*, let it be some fierce beast! Like a killer rabbit or something terrifying.

But the second “Species: Donkey” left her lips? All cool factor vanished. History books are lies. Look at this silly donkey.

Ferocious and cruel, willing to destroy the forest elves with its life. (×)

Too dumb to turn, crashed headfirst into someone’s tree, skull so hard it toppled the trunk. (√)

“Eep! Father! We forgot to add firewood!” Ke Er popped out from behind the chair, pointing at the fading embers beneath the iron pot.

Ou Tao frowned. *Fine. A donkey it is. But an SSR donkey’s gotta have *something*. Low IQ? At least she can handle manual labor!*

“Yami, go add firewood!”

Only one of sword or Sword Spirit can be physical at a time. When sheathed or plunged into the ground, the sword turns ethereal while the Sword Spirit materializes. When held, the sword solidifies and the Spirit fades. Ethereal state: cannot attack or be targeted.

Perfect for Ou Tao. His Twelve-Blade Style meant constantly drawing and discarding blades. If just planting a sword was this strong… what if the embedded swords fought *on their own*? He couldn’t even calculate the boost.

The Sword Spirit’s range scales with mana spent when the sword is thrown. Ou Tao placed it precisely. Yami’s activity circle perfectly enclosed the firewood pile, the rabbit meat, and the pot—each resting exactly on the edge. Minimal mana, maximum coverage.

Mathematically, finding the smallest circle through three points requires bisectors, compass work, center calculation…

Ou Tao solved it with one glance. Terrifying spatial intuition.

But as Faker proved: even gods can’t carry a clueless teammate.

Yami reached the firewood pile, her negative-IQ brain struggling to parse “add firewood.” She plopped down, grabbed a log, and *crunch, crunch*—munched half of it.

“Stop! I didn’t mean *eat* it! Put it *into* the fire under the pot!”

“Oh!” Yami’s face lit up. Foolish but freakishly strong—level 10, Strength 140. She channeled all power into one kick. The log shot straight into the pot’s base. The impact cratered the soil. The pot flipped instantly.

“Be *gentle*! What if it shatters? Are you a pig?!” Ou Tao yelled.

“I’m a *donkey*!” Yami tilted her head, beaming with pride.

“Is there even a difference?!” Ou Tao nearly exploded.

“Sir, correction required!” Bika’s voice cut in. “Studies confirm donkeys rank below pigs in intelligence. When insulting her stupidity, calling her a pig accidentally *compliments* her IQ. Logically inconsistent.”

Ou Tao clutched his chest. *Are you two conspiring to kill me and find a new master? Is this AI and Sword Spirit staging a coup against human tyranny?!*

He was a pro gamer. He played to feed his family, for team pride, national glory! Slipping on his headset was like a soldier grabbing a rifle—solemn, focused, deadly serious.

Now? Stuck as the straight man to a donkey. The vibe was *gone*.

“So dumb, Sister Yami! Even *I’m* smarter than you!” Ke Er pouted, shooting her a disdainful glare.

“Not ‘even’—*obviously*!” Yami struck a confident pose, hands on hips. “My Intelligence stat is: -40.”

Ou Tao had her figured out. She couldn’t lie—her IQ couldn’t even *conceive* of deception. A swipe of his hand confirmed it: Yami’s panel read Intelligence: -40.

Just as he opened his mouth to scold her, he spotted her skill:

Intelligence-Draining Headbutt: Upon crashing into the Elf Sacred Tree, Yami fused with a parasitic spirit sprout. Channeling its energy, a headbutt inflicts knockback. Strike the enemy’s head? Steal their Intelligence—raising hers to one-third of theirs. Effect lasts until one dies.