Jiang Yue was taken for another examination.
Every possible test was run again, and the doctor even collected a sample of her gastric fluid for research.
Then something strange happened!
The steel nail lay in her stomach acid, and before long, it began to emit a hissing white smoke.
Jiang Yue was stunned.
Fu Yan asked, “Your body isn’t the same as an ordinary person’s. Haven’t you noticed anything unusual?”
Jiang Yue stared blankly, first at Fu Yan, then at the doctor. “When I eat meat, I don’t spit out the bones. Does that count as unusual?”
The doctor in a hazmat suit took out a blue-eyed millipede egg and placed it into the extracted gastric fluid. The blue egg was quickly digested, dissolving into a puddle of pale blue liquid, without the slightest sign of hatching.
Fu Yan asked, “Have you ever experienced anything unusual since you were a child?”
The most unusual thing Jiang Yue had ever experienced was transmigrating, and, to top it off, waking up in the body of an Alpha.
Anyone with a brain would know that kind of thing could never be told to anyone.
Jiang Yue shook her head and said only to Fu Yan, “I often feel hungry, and I digest things quickly. Other than that, there’s nothing unusual.”
The doctor in the hazmat suit added from the side, “Perhaps it’s precisely because of her unique physique that she managed to survive that accident.”
Jiang Yue thought back to when she had just transmigrated and hesitated before saying, “It’s nothing special, really. I’m not immune to infection. I remember a doctor once took a Zerg out of my hand.”
She remembered that Zerg vividly, it had countless threadlike, slender legs, finer than silk, and had nearly scared her half to death.
Both the doctor and Fu Yan fell silent, staring at her.
Under Jiang Yue’s increasingly uneasy gaze, the doctor said, “This is very strange. A normal person shouldn’t have a body like this. Logically speaking, even if your stomach acid can digest some types of Zergs, they carry many lethal bacterial strains, yet you’re completely unharmed.”
Help! Jiang Yue dreaded this kind of scenario the most. Being taken away to a lab and dissected for research because of some unique body or special ability, that was the oldest trope in the movies.
She trembled, terrified. “You’re not going to take me away and cut me open for research, are you?”
Fu Yan stroked his chin. “Of course not. But there are too many anomalies about you. For instance, you can manifest your spiritual power without any training, that alone is astonishing. And now we’ve found out you can even digest Zergs. Just how many more surprises are you hiding from us?”
With every word he said, Jiang Yue grew more anxious. To be honest, she had never thought of herself as different from anyone else, and she didn’t want to be either.
Sometimes, being ordinary wasn’t such a bad thing.
As they talked, Jiang Yue’s physical data was transmitted from the optical brain, and all the readings displayed on the holographic screen appeared normal. The doctor studied the scan of Jiang Yue’s brain for a long time.
When she saw him finally exhale in relief, the fully suited Alpha removed his protective mask, revealing a handsome, rakish face.
“She hasn’t been parasitized by the Zerg. Her brain is intact, the pineal gland shows no abnormalities, and the brainwave frequencies are all within the normal range.”
Fu Yan’s tense posture instantly relaxed.
Jiang Yue blinked in confusion, glancing from Fu Yan to the doctor and back again.
Fu Yan kindly explained, “Some Zergs can parasitize the human body. Those who are infected usually don’t face immediate danger, but their internal structure changes. One of the signs of parasitism is that their stomach acid turns into a highly corrosive strong acid.”
At this point, the doctor beside them frowned. “Jiang Yue’s body truly is different from others. Her stomach lining is extremely thick, and do you have any idea how dense her muscle tissue is? I’ve only seen density like this in certain specialized military units.”
He pulled up Jiang Yue’s body scan. “Look at her cartilage tissue, see how much thicker it is than normal?”
Fu Yan nodded, murmuring, “Thicker cartilage… it prevents wear and tear from high-intensity movement. She’s practically built for combat.”
The doctor turned his gaze to Fu Yan. “Of course, I’m a doctor, but when it comes to this sort of thing, you probably know more than I do.”
Their conversation was vague and technical, leaving Jiang Yue completely lost.
She sat there restlessly, feeling a deep sense of guilt and unease. After all, as a foreign soul inhabiting someone else’s body, it wasn’t all that different from parasitism if you really thought about it.
And besides, she didn’t have a single memory of the body’s original owner. If they started asking detailed questions about her past, she wouldn’t be able to say a word.
The doctor looked at Jiang Yue again and said gently, “Just to be safe, you’ll need to come to the infirmary for checkups every day this week. Also, even though there’s no sign that your body’s been infected by any Zerg bacteria, you should still get an antibiotic injection, just in case.”
Jiang Yue nodded obediently.
After the doctor gave a few more instructions, Fu Yan escorted Jiang Yue out of the examination room.
On the way, she couldn’t help but ask, “Is being able to digest Zergs really that rare? Am I the only one who can do it?”
Fu Yan replied, “You’re not the only one. There are certain specialized soldiers whose physical makeup is similar to yours, high muscle density, bones as hard as stone, stomach acid capable of digesting Zergs, and an immune system so strong it can resist most forms of parasitic infection.”
Jiang Yue asked curiously, “What kind of soldiers are they?”
Fu Yan chuckled. “You’ll find out someday.”
Jiang Yue didn’t want to know.
Specialized soldiers—just hearing the term didn’t sound like anything good.
When she returned to the training field, several light green tents had already been set up.
Inside the tents, it was chaotic and stiflingly hot. Aside from Xi Boyu, all of Jiang Yue’s other roommates were down to just their shorts, holding small fans in front of their faces with expressions of utter despair.
Jiang Yue began to undress as well. Still feeling a sense of modesty, she first changed into a loose white tank top long enough to cover her hips before slowly taking off her trousers.
The tent was cramped, packed with six tall, broad-shouldered Alphas, all half-naked and sprawled about, making the air feel stifling.
Everywhere she looked was bare skin; on the left, on the right, in front of her, and behind her. Nothing but muscle and flesh.
Xi Boyu was wearing a very thin short-sleeved pajama top. With his cold expression, he looked downright intimidating, and none of the roommates dared to crowd near him, leaving him a surprisingly large patch of space to himself.
When Jiang Yue finished changing and stepped into the tent, all her roommates turned to look at her in unison.
Xiang Sui spoke up, “Come on, Jiang Yue, admit it, you’re not really some slum kid pretending to suffer through this training, are you? You’re secretly the direct descendant of some general, right?”
Jiang Yue: “…”
Xiang Sui always looked like a reliable person, but somehow his train of thought was utterly bizarre.
“Your guess is way off. You really think the cafeteria’s sticky, so-called ‘charity meals’ taste good?”
Xiang Sui had been unlucky enough to try one once, it felt like getting a mouthful of ten-year-old phlegm.
He immediately gagged.
The roommates who had also tasted the so-called “charity meals” all shuddered violently, unanimously dismissing that theory.
Jiang Sen concluded, “Let’s just say you’re naturally gifted.”
Jiang Yue nodded in agreement. “No wonder I’m always hungry.”
Xi Boyu was slightly annoyed; after all, the snacks he had stocked up on had been completely devoured by a certain starving ghost.
That night was destined to be a crowded and stifling one.
No one could fall asleep, and Jiang Yue’s mind was even more restless than the others’.
Where had the original owner of this body gone?
With a body this powerful, the original owner’s soul should have been just as strong.
Or perhaps the soul of the original owner had already perished, leaving behind only this extraordinary shell.
What had the original gone through? Why was their body structured in such an unusual way?
It was a question destined to have no answer.
The information left behind by the body’s original owner was far too limited.
Even the slum where she had once lived had been burned to ashes in a fire caused by the Zerg infestation, nothing remained but ruins.
Having slept poorly, Jiang Yue yawned nonstop as she got up.
They borrowed the public restroom and washroom from another building, and one by one, the group trudged back, yawning all the way.
It seemed Jiang Yue wasn’t the only one who had lost sleep last night.
Blue Whale Zone Building No. 2 had been designated a restricted area, cordoned off with red warning tape that prohibited anyone from approaching.
The school reassigned them to a new dormitory building; Rose Zone, Old Apartment Building No. 1.
The Rose Zone was the residential area for Omegas, and many of the students in the Federal Military Academy’s Mecha Design program were Omegas.
On the day dorms were reassigned, all the Alphas were thrilled, each one looking radiant and full of energy.
But their excitement came far too soon.
To ensure the Omegas’ safety, the school issued intelligent “Alpha muzzle” to every Alpha moving into the Rose Zone.
And those smart collars couldn’t be removed until after eight o’clock in the evening.
And so, all the Alphas living in the Rose Zone went to class wearing their “Alpha muzzle” earning them the teasing nickname ‘Alpha dogs’ from the Omegas.
With the muzzle-like collar fastened around her neck, Jiang Yue strode into the Rose Zone on her long legs.
The Rose Zone was an elegant place; its Omega residents were impeccably dressed and refined, and even the breeze that drifted past them carried a faint, sweet fragrance.
The Alphas living in the Rose Zone could no longer stroll around in flip-flops and baggy shorts. They now had to dress neatly, wear the most expensive gland patches, and fasten the sturdiest muzzles around their necks.
Passing Omegas would cover their mouths to stifle laughter, occasionally sneaking a few curious glances.
Omegas, unlike the typically solitary Alphas, always moved in small groups of three or five.
As a group of Omegas passed by Jiang Yue and walked off into the distance, their cheerful, chattering voices drifted through the air.
“This female Alpha is way too pretty!”
“So cold and cool-looking, she seems totally unapproachable.”
“Yeah, seriously! She’s even more handsome than those virtual idols. I couldn’t create a face that good-looking even if I tried.”
“I play Endless Love too, and the husband I made in the game isn’t even half as handsome as her!”
“Same here! Endless Love is so much fun!”
Jiang Yue’s interest was piqued.
It had been a long time since she’d played a romance game.
She opened her terminal and searched for Endless Love, discovering that it was a fully immersive holographic game requiring an optical brain interface, a holo-helmet, and a matching immersion pod.
Altogether, the setup would only cost about 1.5 million credits or so.
With tears in her eyes, Jiang Yue closed the search page.
The poor had no right to dream of having a husband.
The school’s holographic lab was equipped with intelligent AIs, and anyone caught playing games there would be immediately kicked out.
Heartbroken, Jiang Yue reluctantly gave up on the idea of finding a husband in the game.
Feeling dejected, Jiang Yue returned to the dorm and opened her terminal to check her personal information.
Everything looked utterly ordinary, nothing special at all.
She rubbed her stomach. Uh-oh. She was hungry again.
One by one, her roommates returned, all still wearing their muzzles. Unlike the excitement they’d shown when they first moved into the Rose Zone a few days ago, they now looked completely deflated.
Wearing the muzzle was a real hassle. Since they’d moved to the Rose Zone, their dining hall was now there too.
The place was full of Omegas and Betas, and the Alphas weren’t allowed to remove their muzzles while eating. All they could do was pick up a packet of nutrient solution and miserably chew on the straw.
Xiang Sui looked completely drained. He tossed his shopping bag onto the floor and shook his head irritably. “Damn it, this is driving me crazy. When are we finally gonna be allowed to take these stupid things off?”
Jiang Sen said listlessly, “At least the reconstruction work is moving fast. The old apartments we used to live in were full of that weird stuff, it’s a pain to deal with. Blowing them up isn’t enough; they have to flood the buildings with strong acid to make sure every last thing in there is completely destroyed.”
Kuri and Bai Wang sat on stools, sipping drinks through straws. The two of them couldn’t stomach the nutrient paste, and they were so hungry they didn’t even feel like talking.
Xi Boyu was the only one who still looked composed. Even with a muzzle strapped to his face, the campus heartthrob was still unmistakably the campus heartthrob.
How popular was he?
Let’s just say the snacks the Omegas gave him could pile up into a small mountain, he alone was enough to feed the entire dorm.
At eight o’clock in the evening, the muzzles on the Alphas’ faces were finally unlocked. After a whole day of restraint, they all eagerly embraced their brief window of freedom. The hallways filled with the mouthwatering aroma of food, as this was the only time of day the poor Alphas could enjoy a proper meal.
In Dorm 2708, they set up a hot pot. Everyone was soon flushed and sweating from the heat, even Xi Boyu abandoning his usual elegance and composure.
Halfway through the meal, someone knocked on the dorm door.
Bai Wang, being the closest, opened it, only to see their director, Fu Yan, walk in with a smile.
“Oh, this hot pot looks pretty good,” he said.
The Alphas in the room didn’t even have time to wipe their mouths before snapping to attention.
Fu Yan chuckled. “Relax, no need to get so tense. Go on, keep eating. These sausages look great; oh, and you’ve got tripe too! You little brats are eating quite well tonight.”
Jiang Sen gave a sheepish grin, his face scrunching up. “We were just dying for something real to eat. After drinking nutrient paste every day, our mouths don’t even remember what flavor is anymore.”
Fu Yan nodded. “Understandable, understandable. Go on, keep eating. Jiang Yue, Xi Boyu, come with me for a bit. I need to talk to you two.”
Jiang Yue and Xi Boyu exchanged a glance, each seeing the same flicker of confusion in the other’s eyes. They quickly straightened their clothes and followed Fu Yan out of the dorm.
The four remaining roommates stared at one another in silence.
Jiang Sen: “What’s going on?”
Xiang Sui: “How should I know?”
Bai Wang: “Why did he only call those two out?”
Kuri: “Are they hiding some secret from us?”
Summer was coming to an end, and the nights in Liyue were beginning to cool.
Following behind Fu Yan, Jiang Yue asked, “Director, what did you need us for?”
Fu Yan replied, “I’m taking you two out for a little trip.”
The automated gate slid open, and Fu Yan led them out of the school grounds. A seemingly ordinary black sedan was parked at the gate, waiting for them.
As Jiang Yue and Xi Boyu settled into the back seat, the driver suddenly turned around with a smile.
Jiang Yue exclaimed, “Instructor Zou Yi!”
Zou Yi was their instructor for combat training. Because Jiang Yue’s fighting style in class tended to be a bit too aggressive, he often served as her sparring partner.
Seeing a familiar face instantly eased her nerves by half. Both surprised and delighted, she asked, “Instructor Zou, where are we going? Why are you and Director Fu being so mysterious?”
“To take you two to the market,” Fu Yan replied.
Jiang Yue exchanged another glance with Xi Boyu.
An hour later, they arrived at an underground shopping mall. Both Fu Yan and Zou Yi were dressed casually, and Jiang Yue noticed that their usually straight, upright postures were slightly relaxed, their bearing not nearly as sharp or formal as usual.
The underground mall even had a barbecue stall, and Zou Yi bought Jiang Yue a King Tornado Pure Meat Sausage.
Jiang Yue stared blankly at Zou Yi, then turned to look at Xi Boyu and asked in a daze, “You only bought it for me?”
Zou Yi patted her shoulder kindly. “Be good. It’s especially for you, Xi Boyu doesn’t need one.”
Xi Boyu glanced at Jiang Yue and said lightly, “I don’t like greasy food.”
So Jiang Yue happily finished the King Tornado Pure Meat Sausage all by herself.
After she finished eating, Fu Yan thoughtfully threw the bamboo skewer into the trash for her.
It was the first time since becoming an Alpha that Jiang Yue had experienced such considerate care, and she felt a faint warmth rising in her chest.
Then—smack! Zou Yi’s palm, broad as a fan, landed squarely on the back of her head, stunning her completely.
All traces of his earlier kindness vanished. His aura shifted, fierce and menacing, as he jabbed a finger at her nose and roared, “Eat, eat, eat, that’s all you ever do! What else are you good for, huh? I bust my ass to get you into school, and all you can manage on your spiritual strength test is a bottom-tier score. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
Jiang Yue stood there, utterly bewildered, as Zou Yi’s massive palm swung through the air so fast it left afterimages. One blow after another landed squarely on her forehead, sending her stumbling backward again and again until her head was buzzing.
Fu Yan hurried to intervene. “Old Zou, you can’t educate kids like this! Look around, there are people everywhere. Whatever it is, can’t you talk about it at home?”
Zou Yi exploded, shouting, “I’m saving her some face, has she ever done anything to save mine? Just look at that pathetic score she got on her spiritual strength test! I can’t even hold my head up around the others anymore!”
Zou Yi raised his arm again, and Jiang Yue shrank back in terror, curling up in the corner with her hands over her head, trembling.
Fu Yan quickly stepped in once more, patting Zou Yi’s back. “Alright, alright, calm down, calm down. Spiritual strength isn’t something you can rush. Let’s think of another solution.”
“Think of what, huh?” Zou Yi snapped, his face red with anger. “Your little Xi, an Omega, mind you, has stronger spiritual power than her! And we even arranged a betrothal for them! Tell me, with her useless performance, you think Xi Boyu would still want her? At this rate, how’s she ever supposed to find a wife?!”
Fu Yan gave an awkward, apologetic smile.
Scenes of parents scolding their children in public weren’t unusual, and the onlookers, after watching the drama unfold, began to chime in with words of persuasion.
Zou Yi finally cooled down, grabbed the dazed Jiang Yue by the arm, and dragged her away.
Jiang Yue felt completely numb.
The whole way back, Jiang Yue endured a relentless stream of scolding. Zou Yi kept cursing under his breath, while Fu Yan tried in vain to smooth things over with gentle persuasion.
Xi Boyu walked beside them, his expression calm and detached, as if watching a mildly entertaining play. Jiang Yue didn’t dare utter a word.
She was berated all the way out of the underground mall and back to the car. Just as they got in, someone knocked on the car window.
A plain-looking Beta man was standing outside, handing over a small paper flyer. Zou Yi snapped, pointing at him with irritation. “What’s wrong with you people, handing out stupid ads every day?”
The Beta man crumpled the flyer into a ball, tossed it through the car window, and walked off without a word.
Jiang Yue suddenly had a flash of realization, so this was a sting operation.
Sure enough, Zou Yi got out of the car.
Jiang Yue, clutching her sore forehead, slumped back in the rear seat like a corpse.
She was utterly exhausted, muttering weakly, “Instructor, you could’ve at least warned me first.”
Fu Yan chuckled. “That wouldn’t have looked realistic.”
Jiang Yue: “…”
Fifteen minutes later, Zou Yi returned, holding a small refrigerated box.
In addition to the refrigerated box, he was holding another steaming, fragrant King Tornado Pure Meat Sausage.
He handed the sausage to Jiang Yue, looking at her with exaggerated kindness. “Here’s your reward. You’ve worked hard.”
Jiang Yue was screaming internally—what the hell, what the hell!
The female Alpha’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Zou Yi held back a laugh. “Cadets get a subsidy when they’re sent on missions.”
Jiang Yue’s eyes lit up. “How much?”
Zou Yi replied, “Fifteen hundred.”
Jiang Yue instantly felt much better. Beaming, she accepted the sausage and thanked Zou Yi and Fu Yan with a grin. “Hehehe, thank you, instructors!”
As Jiang Yue ate her sausage, her gaze drifted to the frozen container in Zou Yi’s hand. If she guessed correctly, it probably held blue-eyed millipede eggs, something said to have a miraculous effect on enhancing spiritual power.
When she returned to the dorm, her roommates immediately gathered around, eyes sparkling with gossip.
Covering her head in misery, Jiang Yue recounted the whole ordeal.
Jiang Sen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Makes sense. Ever since the incident at the military academy, word’s gotten out, those black market dealers selling Zerg eggs aren’t so easy to find anymore.”
Kuri asked Jiang Sen, “Isn’t your family in cosmetics? You must have a supply channel for blue‑eyed millipede eggs, right?”
Jiang Sen replied, “Those supply channels are all controlled by the military. I don’t know about other manufacturers, in any case, our family operates completely aboveboard.”
He went on, “This stuff is considered high‑risk; the whole process takes a lot of time. Black‑market sources are about thirty percent cheaper than the military’s, so manufacturers chasing profit sometimes take the risk and turn to those unregulated supply channels.”
Jiang Yue asked, “Then where do the black‑market sources get their stock?”
Xi Boyu replied, “It’s complicated. Even within the Federal Military Department, there are people who look to profit from loopholes. The Zerg might also provide eggs to humans for certain reasons. And you can’t rule out someone privately raising blue‑eyed millipedes for profit. Basically, wherever there’s money to be made, someone will take the risk.”
Bai Wang hissed. “You think all the accidents happening at our school might be related to this?”
Remembering the countless blue‑eyed millipede larvae, he shivered. “Did you know? The old Building 2 we lived in was renovated, and apparently the school has already started investigating that construction crew.”
Kuri shrugged, holding his game controller. “And then everyone on that crew died, completely wiped out by millipede egg infections. If you say there wasn’t some conspiracy, no sane person would believe it.”
Red‑haired Kuri glanced at Jiang Yue, his expression curious. “Your hearing is way too sharp. How did you pick up such tiny sounds?”
Jiang Yue put on a look of pure misery. “I don’t know either. The sound was really faint, you could only catch it when it was completely quiet. At first, I thought it was just tinnitus. Maybe the other students who heard it didn’t pay attention.”
Xiang Sui shook his head, pointing at his own ear. “No, no, no. I’ve taken some pretty professional tests, my hearing is already considered exceptionally sharp. I swear on both hands, I didn’t hear a thing. And besides, my stomach acid can’t digest blue-eyed millipedes.”
Jiang Yue: “Crap, I’m terrified. What if someone shows up any second now to drag me away for dissection?”
Xiang Sui patted her on the shoulder. “It’s not that bad, but seriously, you’re really not normal. We talked about it behind your back and all agreed you were probably parasitized by the Zerg once, which caused some of your physical functions to change.”
Jiang Yue: “…”
And to think she once admired how calm her roommates were, turns out they’d been quietly gossiping about her all along!
Jiang Yue suddenly thought back to when she first transmigrated into this body.
She lay amidst a pile of rubble as a doctor in a biohazard suit cut open the back of her hand and pulled out a red, leech-like Zerg.
Countless thin, pale pink legs sprouted from its abdomen, and the sight was enough to make Jiang Yue faint with terror.
With her limited knowledge at the time, all she could determine was that the creature was a newly hatched larva.
Jiang Yue said firmly, “Impossible. That larva was removed by the doctor right after it hatched, and I was sent to the hospital after I fainted. If I had truly been parasitized, the hospital would have detected it.”
Xi Boyu paused to think. “What if you were infected before that?”
The question left Jiang Yue speechless. She had no memory whatsoever of anything that happened prior to that moment.
Jiang Yue twisted in frustration. “Your guess is absurd, completely detached from reality. If I were really parasitized, I’d have turned into a Zerg by now.”
Xi Boyu blinked and said to her, “There is a type of parasitism called perfect parasitism.”
Perfect parasitism, an event with a probability approaching zero.
In simple terms, it’s almost impossible.
Jiang Yue broke out in goosebumps and said gloomily, “Don’t bully me just because I’m not that well-read. How is this any different from the odds of a meteorite falling from the sky and hitting me right on the head?”
She paused, then added, “Actually, the odds of a meteorite hitting me are probably higher.”
Xi Boyu countered calmly, “Almost impossible doesn’t mean it can never happen. Everyone in that slum died from the parasite infection, except you. Have you ever considered that maybe… that wasn’t just a coincidence?”
Jiang Yue opened her mouth, but no words came out.
In truth, she was completely stunned.
Xiang Sui suddenly slapped his thigh, eyes widening in realization. “Exactly! Everyone else was infected by the millipede eggs, but you survived. If your body had already changed before that… then it all makes sense.”
What happened in that slum wasn’t a secret, at least, for Jiang Yue’s five roommates, it was far from a secret.
Jiang Yue felt dazed, her gaze distant as she recalled, “It wasn’t that I wasn’t infected at all. I remember clearly, a doctor took a leech-like Zerg out of the back of my hand, and its abdomen had countless pale pink legs, thinner than threads.”
“So I’m not immune to all infections.”
In the silence that followed, Xi Boyu summarized, “In short, your body must have undergone some changes for certain reasons.”
Seeing Jiang Yue looking unwell, Xi Boyu softened his tone. “Don’t overthink it. These changes only occur under very specific conditions. It only seems strange because it happened to you. Just pay more attention to how your body changes from now on.”
Jiang Yue stared blankly. “I feel like I’m some kind of monster.”
She couldn’t really be a monster… could she?
That night, Jiang Yue was completely unable to sleep.
In reality, the abnormalities in her body didn’t affect her daily life at all.
She hadn’t noticed anything particularly special about herself either.
Gradually, she pushed the matter out of her mind and even joined her roommates on the apartment rooftop to watch the commotion.
Strong acid was being poured into Blue Whale District’s Building 2. For this operation, the military deployed three medium-sized warships. All students in the district were evacuated, each armed with a telescope, and they found open spots to watch from a safe distance.
The building, corroded by the strong acid, hissed and emitted white smoke, like a candle meeting a flame. Its rigid framework sagged softly, then melted, flowed, and finally collapsed.
From the walls emerged countless pale pink filaments, twisting together. Each strand shimmered with a pearlescent glow, and tiny points of light flickered at their tips, eerily beautiful.
As the acid poured over them, the filaments vanished without resistance, like frost touched by boiling water, dissolving completely into the corrosive liquid.
The pink glimmers at the tips of the filaments broke free from their hosts and floated up into the sky.
In that moment, all the noise ceased. Everyone was captivated, immersed in this surreal and beautiful scene.
Someone whispered softly, “What are those pink lights?”
“Like… a dream.”
Jiang Yue still didn’t know the name of that Zerg. She had searched through countless sources but couldn’t find any information about it.
After the cleanup was done, she put down her telescope and exhaled deeply. “The nightmare is finally over. Nothing in my life could be more intense than this.”
Jiang Sen sighed. “We lived here for so many days, and just like that, it’s gone. When can we finally move out of the Rose District?”
Xiang Sui teased him, “Funny, the one who was the most excited to move into the Rose District back then was you.”
Jiang Sen put on a pained expression. “How was I supposed to know we’d have to wear these muzzles from eight in the morning to eight at night? Do you know what the Omegas call us? They call us Alpha dogs!”
Xi Boyu glanced at Jiang Sen, his expression showing a hint of disdain.
Jiang Yue burst out laughing. “Hahaha, that’s what they call joy turning into sorrow!”
After watching the commotion, the six of them walked back together, chatting casually. Jiang Yue mentioned offhandedly, “It feels like it’s been a while since we saw Director Fu Yan.”
Xiang Sui added casually, “Yeah, my family’s been busy too; I haven’t heard from them in a week.”
They all went to the cafeteria, sipping the bitter nutritional drinks while talking about random, trivial things.
Wearing the muzzle masks made everyone look utterly ridiculous as they drank through straws, and the Omegas in the cafeteria couldn’t help but giggle at them.
Jiang Yue’s eyes were glued to their exquisite and beautiful outfits. A sweet female Omega walked past her, carrying a delicate pearlescent shell-shaped bag, even with the zipper crafted in the shape of a shell.
Jiang Yue’s gaze followed the adorable bag all the way until a snow-white, slender hand waved in front of her.
Snapping back to reality, Xi Boyu asked her, “Do you want more nutritional drink?”
“Get me a strawberry-flavored one, thanks!” she replied.
Xi Boyu got up to fetch the nutritional drink, and Jiang Yue reluctantly tore her gaze away. Jiang Sen teased, “Your eyes were practically glued to her! Can you tone it down a bit?”
Jiang Yue replied, “Don’t you think her shell-shaped bag is just gorgeous?”
Jiang Sen: “What bag?”
Xiang Sui: “What shell?”
Bai Wang: “What bag, what shell?”
Ku Li: “She… was carrying a bag?”
Jiang Yue: “……”
Ahhhhh! This is so painful!
Jiang Yue put on a mask of pain, staring blankly as she rubbed her temples, and said weakly, “It’s nothing… I just feel they’re so refined. Compared to them, I feel like some wild beast running naked in the primeval forest.”
Xi Boyu returned with the nutritional drink and nodded in agreement. “True, Alphas really live quite roughly.”
After finishing her drink, Jiang Yue went back to the dorm and lay down for a nap.
With no afternoon classes, college students could sleep well past two o’clock.
Jiang Yue slept until half past two. The dorm curtains were drawn, leaving the room dimly lit. She rubbed her eyes and noticed that the other roommates were still asleep, only Xiang Sui’s bed was empty.
Xi Boyu had also woken up and was lying on his bed playing on his terminal. Jiang Yue asked him, “Where did Xiang Sui go?”
“Maybe he went to the bathroom,” he replied.
An hour later, Xiang Sui still hadn’t returned.
Jiang Yue sent him a message, but he didn’t reply. She scratched her head, feeling an inexplicable sense of unease.
Five hours later, Xiang Sui still hadn’t responded to any of the messages from their roommates. Everyone in the dorm exchanged worried glances, growing increasingly anxious.
“Since you’re all so resourceful, can’t you find out what happened to Xiang Sui?”
Jiang Sen sighed and looked at Jiang Yue. “You can’t ask. Military matters are classified, and leaking information could land you in prison.”
Everyone wore worried expressions. Xi Boyu furrowed his brow and said, “All I know is that his older brother went on a mission last month, and things didn’t go very smoothly.”
Jiang Yue drew in a sharp breath. “Could his brother be in danger? He’s a 3S-level prodigy!”
Xi Boyu corrected her, “To be precise, Xiang Sui’s brother is 3S. In the mental domain, this level of near-threshold spiritual power is itself a huge source of danger.”
Jiang Yue understood immediately, like an overloaded truck whose tires are about to blow.
People, like overloaded trucks, have limits to what they can carry.
Jiang Yue had read Consciousness Projection many times. Although its descriptions were often amusing, once the laughter faded, a subtle, creeping horror lingered.
Bai Wang chuckled softly, his white hair giving him a strangely world-weary look. “Exactly. Everyone has their limits, which is why being a hero is never easy.”
In short, everyone was deeply worried about Xiang Sui.
At nine o’clock in the evening, Xiang Sui still hadn’t replied to their messages.
Jiang Yue kept glancing at her terminal every now and then, dozing off on the bed in a haze.
Suddenly, the terminal vibrated. She quickly sat up and opened the message.
The sender wasn’t Xiang Sui, it was Director Fu Yan.
[Go to the North Gate and wait for me.]
Jiang Yue was completely bewildered as she jumped out of bed to get dressed. Xi Boyu poked his head over the bed and asked, “What’s going on?”
Jiang Yue replied, “Director told me to wait for him at the North Gate. He didn’t say anything else, but I have a feeling it’s not going to be good.”
Apparently, that King Tornado Pure Meat Sausage still lingered vividly in her memory, leaving a heavy psychological shadow.
Kuri complained, “I want to go too! Why do these things never happen to me?”
Jiang Yue put on a mask of pain and said, “No, you don’t want this. You wouldn’t understand the kind of pain you get when someone slaps your head!”
Jiang Sen snapped his fingers. “Nice, safe travels!”
Jiang Yue high-fived him and reluctantly made her way to the North Gate.
The intelligent mechanical gates slowly opened, and outside, a familiar black sedan was waiting.
Jiang Yue sat in the car, and the driver turned his head, revealing a composed and refined face, somewhat reminiscent of a buffed-up version of “Face Swap Da Sima.”
It was none other than their “Current Affairs and Policy” teacher, Si Xing’an.
Jiang Yue had been doing terribly in his class, and seeing Si Xing’an made her put on a mask of pain deepen even further.
Last time, Xi Boyu had been there to accompany her, but now she was alone in the back seat. The feeling was incredibly awkward, she felt completely out of place.
“Director Fu, Instructor Si, can I ask where you’re taking me? I’m really scared right now.”
Si Xing’an chuckled, “Tell the child, look at how frightened she is.”
Fu Yan: “Oh, so you’re playing the good guy again.”
A series of translucent ripples appeared in the air, and a transparent dove emerged from them. One of its wings was missing, yet this did nothing to diminish its grace and beauty.
This was the second spiritual body she had ever seen. The dove circled once inside the car before perching on Fu Yan’s shoulder.
He stroked the dove, then turned to Jiang Yue, his gaze gentle and his expression warm. “You know Xiang Xu’s older brother, right?”
Jiang Yue nodded. “I know.”
“He ran into a bit of a problem.”
Jiang Yue’s gray eyes instantly narrowed into vertical slits, like a large feline, as she warily looked at Fu Yan.
“What kind of problem?”
Not another spiritual power outburst… and then pooping in the litter box, right?!
Help!
Stop thinking about it!
Fu Yan chuckled softly. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
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Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152