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"You're a dog from Planet Woof?" Alex finally had a lightbulb moment.
Huh? The little dog tilted its head, clearly confused by this new term.
"You're a space dog, right?" Alex rephrased in simpler terms.
The dog nodded like crazy, lifting its little front paws excitedly in his hands.
So the whole "dogs can understand humans" thing? Totally legit! But man, this one's tiny! Alex was nearly speechless. He'd seen small breeds before, but this… this one looked way smaller than even the smallest of the small!
"Wait a sec... Did you eat my instant noodles?" he asked suspiciously.
The dog gave a shy nod, eyes flickering with guilt.
Alex was shocked. That little body? It managed to eat a whole bowl of instant noodles?
"You greedy little thing, how did your tiny tummy not explode?" Alex joked as he gently poked its belly.
The dog shook its head quickly, smacked its lips a few times, then turned around and stared longingly at the half-eaten noodles still in Alex's bowl.
"You're still hungry?" he asked, dumbfounded.
The dog looked away, embarrassed, but still gave a tiny nod.
Alex placed it next to the stainless steel bowl. "Go on, eat. Knock yourself out."
He figured: Come on, that body's so small—there's no way it can eat that much.
But boy, was he wrong.
The little dog gripped the edge of the bowl, and in a whirlwind of slurping, gulping chaos, it cleaned up every last noodle and drop of broth like a vacuum. Not a crumb was left.
Alex swallowed hard, stunned. This pup can out-eat me. Was it a starving ghost in a past life?
He looked down. Its tummy didn't even seem to have changed size! Two bowls of noodles—where the heck did it all go? This wasn't just a dog—it was a hardcore foodie.
After eating, the dog hopped out of the bowl, plopped down beside him, and licked the corners of its mouth with its long tongue. It wagged its tail at Alex, as if to say thanks.
"I'm Alex. As for you... hmm… let's call you Pip," Alex said, petting the little guy's head. The name just popped into his mind—from that dog in Flirting Scholar.
Pip let out a couple of whiny grunts, clearly not thrilled with the cheesy name.
Suddenly, it looked around, did a little circle, ran to the corner near the door, and lifted its left leg.
Oh no. It's about to pee!
"Stop right there!" Alex yelled.
Pip froze, mid-leg-lift, eyes blinking innocently at him like Huh? What'd I do?
Alex rushed over, picked it up by the scruff with two fingers, looked around, then dropped it into a little flowerpot on the windowsill.
There was a nearly-dead aloe plant in the pot—something Alex had brought from home. The leaves had turned yellow and limp from long-term neglect.
"No peeing wherever you want! You pee here, got it?" he scolded.
Pip nodded, then ducked behind the aloe plant. It lifted its leg again, did its business, and zipped back out of the pot like nothing had happened.
"You even know how to be shy now?" Alex laughed, tapping his forehead.
Pip looked up at him and scratched its head with a paw.
Damn, Alex thought, this little guy's a fast learner!
Out of the three packs of instant noodles he had, Pip had eaten two. Only one left now.
Alex figured that definitely wouldn't be enough to keep his belly full. And who knew if the little glutton was even done eating?
So he threw on his shorts and T-shirt. "Pip, I'm heading out to grab some food. Don't go wandering off, okay?"
Pip nodded obediently.
Alex headed down to the small supermarket at the main intersection. He bought two more packs of instant noodles, then on second thought, added a pack of cheap, off-brand hot dogs.
Walking back with his head down, holding the few wrinkled bills left in his pocket, he sighed. Man, I really need to figure out a way for Pip to help make some money. It's not even about the landlady losing her temper anymore—if I go hungry, that's the real problem!
Just then, someone shouted nearby.
"Buddy! Buddy! Come back!"
The frantic voice came from the entrance of the nearby Lanting neighborhood.
A woman in a silk nightgown was chasing after a small dog, calling out desperately. Under the streetlights, her barely-covered body flashed in and out of view—not that she seemed to care.
These days, people love watching drama more than helping. Several pedestrians followed behind her, pretending to help, but clearly just enjoying the free show.
The little dog dashed straight toward Alex.
"Quick! Please help me! Catch it!" the woman yelled.
Alex, always help others when you can, his parents had told him. Good deeds bring good karma!
Without thinking, Alex spread his arms to block the oncoming dog.
But the dog dodged him easily, darted three steps, and ran into a nearby small restaurant.
The woman ran after it, and Alex followed.
But with tables and chairs in the way, they couldn't keep up. The dog zipped into the kitchen before they could catch it.
It was just past 6 p.m., peak dinner time. The kitchen staff—chefs and assistants alike—were scrambling like crazy. No one noticed a small dog running in. But two grown adults barging into the kitchen? That got everyone's attention.
The head chef, a big guy with a round belly, looked up from his wok and shouted, "Hey! This is the kitchen! We'll bring your food out when it's ready—you don't need to storm in!"
Clearly, he thought they were impatient customers bugging about their orders.
The woman was nearly in tears, too focused on chasing Buddy to care what anyone said.
The chef had just finished cooking a dish and was turning to pour it into a plate when his huge foot stepped right into Buddy's path.
The woman screamed and dove forward, wrapping her arms around the chef's leg—half her body exposed in the chaos.
The chef, completely caught off guard, jumped in shock. His hand slipped, and the freshly cooked food spilled all over the stove.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he roared.
She flipped her messy hair back and snapped, "You almost stepped on my Buddy!"
"Buddy, my ass! That was a whole dish wasted!" the chef shouted, flinging his wok into the sink with a loud clang!
Buddy, who had been running wild, froze at the sound. Surrounded by giant feet and blocked on all sides, it looked down, spotted a gap in the prefabricated cement floor, and squeezed into the sewer below.
"Buddy! Buddy!!" the woman screamed, her voice cracking as she collapsed beside the opening, clawing at the cement with tears streaming down her face.
The restaurant's kitchen had been converted from a regular room. There hadn't originally been a proper drainage system, so they dug a trench, lined it with cheap tiles, and covered it with cement panels that had small gaps—letting water drain into a sewer outside.
A short, dopey-looking kitchen assistant twisted the faucet open, getting ready to wash the spilled wok.
"....."