In the dark, damp, and methane-choked main sewer chamber, the air felt solid enough to slice. That giant mutant crocodile, blocking the destiny of the entire block, was thrashing violently from pain and fear. Every time it whipped its tail, the precarious pipes overhead groaned with a tooth-aching creeeak.

  "Boss! Hurry it up! Methane levels are hitting 85%! One spark and we all turn into barbecue!" Grace’s holographic little head stomped anxiously on his wristband.

  John Doe pressed his thumb down hard on the spinning loading icon on the iPad, his palms slick with sweat.

  "Downloading data packet... 98%... 99%..."

  Ding!

  Immediately following the sound, a beam of golden light—brimming with sunshine and utterly out of place in this filth—shot out from the screen, illuminating the murky sewage.

  "Crikey!"

  Accompanied by that iconic Aussie exclamation, a man appeared out of nowhere, standing waist-deep in the sewage. He wore a khaki short-sleeved shirt and shorts, sported messy blonde hair, and wore a dazzling grin.

  Steve Irwin.

  The "Crocodile Hunter," a man who could look at the most lethal vipers and beasts and get as excited as a teenager seeing his first crush. He didn’t even need John to brief him. His gaze skipped right past John and Bone, locking instantly onto the rampaging beast.

  "Oh, would you look at that!" Irwin’s eyes lit up like twin searchlights. Instead of backing away, he practically lunged toward the crocodile with excitement. "Look at this absolute beauty! Look at those gorgeous scales! This is definitely the most magnificent saltwater croc mutation I've ever seen! She's a real little ripper!"

  John and Bone were dumbstruck.

  "Little... ripper?" Bone stared at the blood-red maw large enough to swallow him whole, his jaw unhinging with a clack. "Does this guy have broken eyes or something?"

  "That’s Steve Irwin." Grace quickly pulled up a file, her voice tinged with respect. "In life, he was the world's most famous wildlife conservationist, and a total madman. He dedicated his life to protecting wild animals until... until a stingray barb pierced his heart."

  "But he never blamed the ray," John muttered, watching the back of the man now wrestling the croc in the water. "He said it was an accident. Part of nature."

  By now, Irwin was already straddling the crocodile’s back.

  Enraged by this sudden human intruder, the croc initiated a frantic death roll, trying to buck the rider off and tear him to shreds.

  But Irwin stuck to its back like a burr. His movements were practiced—legs locking the trunk, hands firmly controlling the jaws, yet applying no force to harm. He was... comforting it?

  "Shhh... Shhh... It's alright, mate. It's alright."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Irwin leaned in close to the crocodile’s armored ear, whispering softly, ignoring the sewage splashing onto his face.

  "I know it hurts. I know you don't wanna be here. Those bad blokes threw you down here, and that’s on them, not you."

  "Look at your back... Oh, crikey, that wound's infected. Must sting like crazy, yeah? It's okay, Uncle Steve's here. Uncle Steve's gonna fix you up."

  Under the man’s soothing touch, the originally berserk crocodile actually slowed down.

  It could feel that while the strength on its back was immense, there was no killing intent. The warmth from those hands wasn't about conquering; it was about embracing.

  This was the first time since being flushed down the drain that it had felt a touch without malice.

  "It... It actually stopped?" John watched in disbelief.

  "That’s the power of 'Empathy'." Grace watched the data panel. "Its adrenaline levels are dropping. It trusts him."

  Seeing the croc calm down, Irwin didn't leave immediately. He pulled a roll of waterproof bandages and a jar of mysterious green ointment from his pocket (Spirit Inventory).

  "Alright, gorgeous, this might sting a little bit."

  He treated the beast like a toddler getting a shot, carefully applying the balm to the gash caused by the rebar.

  "Hiss—" The croc flinched but didn't bite.

  "Good girl, so brave." Irwin patted its head, then turned to John with that trademark toothy grin. "Hey! Mate! Is this your trouble? She's just stuck because she's too chonky! Shows the food down here ain't half bad!"

  John managed a wry smile. "She ate too much trash... Can you get her out?"

  "Of course! As long as she cooperates." Irwin patted the croc's snout. "Alright, big girl, deep breath—I know, I know—suck in that gut. We’re gonna do a little... reversing maneuver."

  Under Irwin’s command—Bone pushing from the front, John and Grace clearing debris, and Irwin guiding from the rear—they moved.

  "One, two, three! Off you go!"

  With a muffled pop, the stuck behemoth was uncorked like a bottle of wine.

  Whoosh!

  The backed-up sewage surged down the cleared pipe, taking the deadly chemicals and methane with it. Crisis averted.

  The crocodile, now free, swam a circle in the spacious pool but didn't leave.

  It swam back to Irwin, gently nuzzling his leg with its massive head.

  "She wants to go with you," John realized.

  Irwin’s eyes dimmed for a moment. His body began to glow—the summoning time was running out.

  "I'd love to take you, mate. But where I'm going... they don't allow pets this big."

  He squatted down, hugging the crocodile’s head, pressing his forehead against its snout.

  "Listen. This is your new home now. It's a bit dirty, but at least you're free."

  He pointed at John.

  "That’s a good bloke. Stick with him, and you'll eat well."

  Irwin stood up and gave John a thumbs-up.

  "Take care of her, brother. She's not a monster. She's... a miracle of nature."

  The light faded. Irwin was gone.

  Only the giant crocodile remained, floating lonely in the water, staring at John.

  "Well, that's just great," Bone threw up his hands. "Another mouth to feed."

  "No."

  John looked at the crocodile, and an idea struck him.

  "She's not just a mouth."

  ......

  Three days later.

  A new sign hung at the entrance of the 13th District sewer:

  [Community Waste Disposal & Underground Security Center]

  [Manager: Big Croc]

  The crocodile wasn't chased away or killed.

  She became part of the neighborhood.

  Every morning, Old Zhang the butcher threw unsold scraps down the hole—Big Croc's breakfast. Volunteers dumped organic waste down—Big Croc's snacks.

  In return, Big Croc cleared the silt clogging the pipes and... terrified any thieves or Guild spies trying to sneak in through the sewers.

  "Heard two thieves tried to sneak in last night. Peed their pants the second they hit the water. Fire department had to fish 'em out."

  The neighbors gossiped over tea.

  "Damn straight. We've got a mythical beast guarding the gates."

  John stood at the door of "Everything You Ask For," looking at the manhole cover, and smiled.

  Life was still hard. The shadow of the Guild still loomed.

  But at least, in this rotten world, they had one more friend—one who didn't need to speak to have their back.

  "Good job, Big Croc."

  John tossed a premium synthetic steak—snagged from the Upper Sector—down the hole.

  A low, satisfied growl and a massive splash echoed from below.

  The abandoned monster had finally found her place in the abandoned district.

  [System Status]:

  Physical Realm (Royal Road): Connection Unstable / Paused.

  Spirit Realm (Patreon): 20+ Chapters Online / Stable.

  [Link]