Alpha-3.0
Qi Ying had to admit that Lu Mengzheng possessed truly extraordinary willpower.
He had attacked him twice, and twice he had spared him, relying entirely on suppressants, self-soothing, and sheer determination to endure his heat.
The reason was that he was striving to shed his animalistic nature and remain faithful to a Beta.
Qi Ying felt a bit sorry for him, as well as for his Beta. Perhaps that little Beta far away in New Asia had no idea of Lu Mengzheng’s current predicament—or that he might not even survive past next month.
So Lu Mengzheng wasn’t wrong either; rather than worrying about dying from a heat, it was better to worry about what would happen next month. If he died, so be it.
Qi Ying tucked a strand of loose hair behind his ear: “I can’t control what happens to you in the future, but don’t go dying on my watch this month. The breach-of-contract penalty is insanely expensive.”
As if making a joke, Lu Mengzheng propped his knuckles—holding the chopsticks—against his temple: “How much?”
“40,000 Jasu coins.”
Lu Mengzheng smiled faintly: “I didn’t realize I was worth so much.”
Seeing how nonchalant he was, Qi Ying probed, “Aren’t you curious about what’s going to happen to you next month?”
“Next month I’ll be transferred to Jilong.”
“You know?”
Lu Mengzheng remained completely unruffled: “Of course. Didn’t you arrest me just to hand me over to the government and negotiate terms with the New Asia Republic?”
Qi Ying also felt his current position was rather delicate. Though he was a warden, he was only a temporary worker and wasn’t actually part of the “you” Lu Mengzheng spoke of.
“Then you must also know that if negotiations fall through…”
Lu Mengzheng took a bite of the broccoli, found it slightly bitter, and carefully refrained from taking a second bite: “They’ll send me to a military tribunal.”
Qi Ying knit his brows: “On what charges do you think?”
Lu Mengzheng let out a casual smile: “Need me to give you guys some ideas? Last month, the Red Cross camp in South Africa was attacked. If Jasu claims I orchestrated it, and randomly fabricates some false evidence, they can try me for terrorist acts and crimes against humanity, then execute me by firing squad.”
Qi Ying fell silent, the faint electric current from the communicator crackling softly.
“Actually, there’s no need to make a fuss about it.” Lu Mengzheng shrugged, his tone flat. “Perhaps as a military doctor, you aren’t very familiar with these things. Reversing black and white like this is very common, whether in the New Asia Republic or in Jasu.”
“That’s not very fair…”
“Fairness? Modern justice serves politics.” Lu Mengzheng let out a quiet scoff. “What, Sir? Feeling sympathy for me, thinking my crime doesn’t warrant this?”
“…” Qi Ying picked at the button on the communicator with his fingernail, unable to understand why a Major would fall to such a state. “What exactly did you come to Jasu for? Did no one on the New Asia Republic’s side assist you?”
Lu Mengzheng went quiet for a short moment, setting down his chopsticks with alertness: “Is this some new interrogation tactic?”
Talk about throwing good intentions back in someone’s face.
“Forget it if you won’t say.”
Qi Ying shut off the communicator, no longer bothering to care about him.
On the fifth day, Zheng Yaqiao suddenly showed up. He seemed to be passing by on a helicopter and had inspected Qi Ying’s work on a whim.
Sitting in the swivel chair, he admired Koukou swimming back and forth for a while, then glanced at Lu Mengzheng on the monitor. Lu Mengzheng was reading a book, looking slightly pale, but overall the picture was quite serene.
“How have these past few days been? Getting used to things?”
Jolted awake by Lu Mengzheng right after midnight. Sleep deprived.
Pressed against the wall by Lu Mengzheng.
Thigh stroked by Lu Mengzheng.
Instant noodles ransacked by Lu Mengzheng too. Only two bags left now.
The warden suffered a total loss of money and dignity, while the prisoner ate, took, and stripped everything bare.
Getting used to things?
Getting used to it my ass—it’s an absolute nightmare.
However, leaders rarely needed complaints; they only wanted to see satisfactory results.
Qi Ying stood up straight and crinkled his eyes with a smile: “Things have gone fairly smoothly. Over the last two days, he’s just had a low-grade fever, some drowsiness, and weakness, but it’s within a controllable range. The high-strength suppressant you provided has been very useful.”
Zheng Yaqiao adjusted his glasses with gratification: “By the way, I had a better-performing suppressant transferred from the capital—Alpha-3.0. It’s currently in Phase III clinical trials, but you know how Phase III goes—there are basically no issues left. The upside is that its suppressive effect lasts longer with fewer side effects. When it arrives in a few days, try it out on him.”
“Understood.” Qi Ying was all compliance and respect.
Zheng Yaqiao stood up, fiddling with his ring as he walked toward the door: “I read your logs. They were well-written.”
Qi Ying nodded: “Mm, I usually enjoy reading, which helps my writing quite a bit.”
Zheng Yaqiao asked casually: “Oh? What do you usually like to read?”
“Uh… Decision Theory in Poker and… Marked by an Enigma After My Amnesia.”
Zheng Yaqiao went quiet for a moment: “Enig… ma? What’s that?”
“Oh… it’s a gender whose abilities surpass Alphas in every aspect.” Qi Ying grew animated the moment the topic came up. “Of course, it doesn’t actually exist in reality. It was created by novel authors to facilitate this and that.”
“Haha…” Zheng Yaqiao let out a couple of dry laughs. “Mr. Qi, you are quite knowledgeable.”
“Not at all, not at all. Still learning.”
Amidst the dead silence, Zheng Yaqiao pressed the elevator button again, as if desperately wishing for the elevator to hurry up.
“There’s one thing I should remind you of, though…” Zheng Yaqiao said before stepping into the elevator. “Your deletion history is also saved in the backend and can be viewed.”
?
So… the whole world saw him write that Lu Mengzheng’s dick was abnormally huge?!
Why didn’t anyone tell him sooner??
The elevator doors closed slowly, gradually blocking out Zheng Yaqiao’s fox-like smile: “Goodbye, Mr. Qi.”
Qi Ying didn’t want to live anymore.
He spent some time online searching whether there were any recent projects to launch people into space. As a result, he found a news item stating that the spacecraft launched by Jasu last month had disintegrated into fragments just one minute after launch. He shut off his phone screen, utterly disheartened.
It’s understandable, right?
An Alpha as striking as Lu Mengzheng—true to his name—appreciating his body was as simple as falling in love with hotpot. What was wrong with taking a look at his muscles and his lower half?
Besides, with so many electronic screens standing in front of him, wasn’t it meant for him to observe every detail meticulously, thoroughly, and right beneath the clothes?
Yes, perfectly understandable.
Qi Ying remembered the utterly useless shot he had given himself. His butt tightened.
Speaking of that injection, it was strange too. It felt as though it hadn’t taken effect where it was supposed to, but had instead brought about some indescribable side effects. Qi Ying felt that, just like Lu Mengzheng, he was also somewhat drowsy and prone to dreaming, constantly tired—yet the frequency of his headaches had decreased.
Or perhaps the air in the southern suburbs was fresher than in the city center, thus curing his headaches? Qi Ying couldn’t be certain.
However, regarding the use of this injection and Lu Mengzheng’s behavior during his heat, Qi Ying gradually figured out the pattern.
The regular suppressant he added for Lu Mengzheng in the evening did indeed make his nights easier to bear, followed by the high-strength suppressant in the latter half of the night. Testing it this way basically kept the agony brought on by the heat within a tolerable range.
The downside, however, was that this long-term medication left Lu Mengzheng lacking energy. For half the day, he remained curled up on the bed, battling fluctuating body temperatures and swallowing the bitterness and torment of the heat all by himself.
On the eighth day, Qi Ying had only one bag of instant noodles left, along with a handful of lemon candies.
He scattered the lemon candies on the desk and counted them repeatedly. Finally, he steeled his heart, popped another into his mouth, and absentmindedly folded the wrapper into a tiny boat.
“Sigh, I’m so bored.” Playing cards was now his sole entertainment, reaching a level where he and Lu Mengzheng could start a game anytime, anywhere. “Why on earth do you like Betas anyway?”
Qi Ying: “Ace of Hearts.”
Lu Mengzheng: “7 of Diamonds.”
Lu Mengzheng smoothly cast his flipped card aside.
“He helped me.”
“Major Lu, are you really that traditional?” Qi Ying couldn’t stand it. “Just because someone helped you, you have to offer yourself up in return?”
Lu Mengzheng knit his brows slightly: “I don’t need him to accept anything. I just want him to be safe.”
Qi Ying instantly blurted out, “Holy crap! It’s not one of those plots, is it… He doesn’t even know, and you’re harboring a unrequited crush all by yourself?”
Qi Ying: “10 of Spades.”
Lu Mengzheng: “Jack of Clubs. I can choose not to answer.”
“So it is true!” Qi Ying grew thrilled beyond belief. “I thought you’d already won him over, but you haven’t even made a move. So when do you plan to confess?”
“I believe it’s my turn to ask a question.”
Qi Ying deflated, resting his chin on the desk: “Fine, fine, fine, ask away.”
“What date is the peace talk scheduled for?”
Qi Ying recalled the news: “The 2nd of next month.”
He noticed Lu Mengzheng seemed to fall into deep thought for a moment, but he was far more concerned with gossip: “So when do you plan to confess?”
Qi Ying: “5 of Diamonds.”
Lu Mengzheng: “2 of Diamonds.”
Lowering his gaze, Lu Mengzheng leaned back slightly against the bedhead: “I have no such intention.”
“Why?”
Qi Ying: “King of Spades.”
Lu Mengzheng: “Queen of Clubs.”
“We aren’t that familiar; he probably doesn’t remember me. Besides, he prefers Omegas.”
“…My god, how is this a love triangle?” Qi Ying doubled over with laughter. But after laughing for a moment, the smile vanished from his face, and he stammered, “Though… speaking from my own personal experience, I feel that’s not necessarily the case.”
“What?”
“I mean a Beta’s preferred gender isn’t set in stone…” Qi Ying offered guidance with a look of experienced wisdom. “Though it’s true that being a bottom can be a bit painful for a Beta. You’ve got to do plenty of prep work and coax him gently—don’t scare him off, or even the gods won’t be able to save you.”
The suppressant wristband was already at its maximum setting. Lu Mengzheng abandoned his habitual motion to adjust it, pressing the tip of his tongue against an itchy canine tooth: “If we hadn’t played a round and I didn’t know you were just arm-chair strategizing, I’d really think you, ‘Colonel’, were a man of vast experience, equally versed in taking and receiving.”
Even with a weakened body, his sharp-tongued prowess hadn’t diminished in the slightest.
Qi Ying gave a sheepish laugh: “…Haha, I belong to the category of rich in theory, lacking in practice…”
After a few rounds of such games, Qi Ying found that Lu Mengzheng truly had no more gossip to squeeze out. He hadn’t even held hands with that Beta, nor had any thrilling stories occurred between them—it was utterly devoid of romantic spark. At times, Qi Ying even felt that this Beta might just be a figment of Lu Mengzheng’s imagination, hard to tell if he even existed.
By the tenth day at Storage Room 105, even playing high-card-draw with Lu Mengzheng couldn’t dilute this thick, suffocating boredom.
Qi Ying gradually realized that in the process of guarding Storage Room 105, what he was fighting wasn’t Lu Mengzheng, but monotony; he desperately needed his life to have some change.
Although most people hated change, it had to be said that if life was entirely devoid of it, it became equally unbearable. Just as the skylight stable in its daily illumination wasn’t what he wanted, what he needed most right now was an occasional overcast day or a rainfall.
However, change arrived very quickly. When the second lieutenant delivered the meal that day, his footsteps were hurried.
“Colonel Lu came to inspect Storage Room 105; I’m practically swamped to death.”
“Which Colonel Lu?”
When busy, the second lieutenant’s already scarce patience became even more limited: “The youngest Colonel in Jasu, Colonel Lu Chengjun, of course. Tsk, why ask so much? It’s not like you know him.”
Qi Ying was merely listening for entertainment: “Will he come to this floor?”
The second lieutenant gave him a glance, stopping himself mid-sentence: “No mention of coming here for now. I’ll inform you if necessary.”
Yet over the next two days, no further notification came, though the meals saw a noticeable improvement. Qi Ying actually wished this Colonel Lu would stay a couple more days; there was even fresh beltfish to eat. Before eating, however, he covered the fish tank with his clothes, treating it as if he had blocked Koukou’s fishy eyes.
On the third day, the new suppressant mentioned earlier by Zheng Yaqiao arrived.
Alpha-3.0 was a clear, bright blue liquid, and its matching needle was slightly thicker than that of a standard suppressant. If it was truly effective, a single shot a day would be enough for Lu Mengzheng; two shots a day had nearly turned his arm into a sieve.
In the early morning of the following day, Qi Ying opened the containment cell on time, bringing the new suppressant to Lu Mengzheng.
Lu Mengzheng was exhausted, lying on the bed with his eyes closed, so Qi Ying didn’t turn on the lights.
He introduced the characteristics of this new suppressant to him: compared to the previous version, it lacked chlorpheniramine, so it wasn’t as sedating, allowing him to stay awake for a greater part of the day. Lu Mengzheng nodded weakly and submissively accepted the injection.
At first, everything was normal.
But very quickly, Qi Ying noticed that Lu Mengzheng’s suppressant wristband displayed an abnormally slow heart rate.
Too fast and too slow were definitely both abnormal.
“Lu Mengzheng?”
Qi Ying patted his face. Unlike the previous instance involving hallucinations, he was entirely unresponsive. Prying open Lu Mengzheng’s eyelids, he shone his phone’s built-in flashlight into his eyes—his pupils were slightly dilated. Qi Ying then pressed the back of his hand against Lu Mengzheng’s forehead; there was no high fever, but he was drenched in sweat.
This shouldn’t be an effect produced by a suppressant.
Qi Ying straightened up from the bedside, recoiling a step in fright. The situation was getting serious.
He had to call an ambulance. Or some other vehicle—at any rate, he needed to get to a hospital immediately.
Setting aside the fact that he was an amnesiac “quack doctor” to begin with, this emergency wasn’t a problem he could solve inside Storage Room 105; he required more professional equipment and examinations.
He rushed toward the doorway, his fingers yet to touch the control panel.
In that very instant, all the lights in the containment cell flared on. In the brilliant, daylight-like illumination, Qi Ying closed his eyes reflexively. When he opened them again, he watched in terror as the blast-proof door before him slowly opened.
The infrared system was forcibly shut off, and a squad of well-trained Alpha soldiers burst inside, setting up a cold interrogation chair in the center of the room.
Before Qi Ying could even react, they rushed to the bedside, hoisted up the lifeless Lu Mengzheng by force, and roughly stuffed him into the chair. With a sharp clack, the lowered metal restraint frame and ankle cuffs locked him securely in place.
Qi Ying stood dumbfounded, staring at the submachine guns held in their hands.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He waved his arms: “Hey, is anyone going to acknowledge me?!”
The soldiers automatically split into two rows, left and right, expressionless and silent like frozen wax figures. Their chaotic body odors crashed wildly around the room, forcing Qi Ying to hold his breath.
A moment later, an officer in a crisp, sharp uniform walked in gracefully surrounded by an escort, his hard-soled black military boots clacking loudly against the floor. A scar slashed diagonally across his face, splitting his upper lip in two—a feature impossible to ignore.
The scarred officer clapped his hands at an unhurried pace, speaking in a measured tone: “Good job, Mr. Qi. You did very well. It’s clear he trusts you a great deal.”
Qi Ying couldn’t make sense of it; he only felt the world spinning around him. His body trembled, his very fingers shaking so much he had to clench them into fists to barely stop the tremors: “What do you mean?”
His gaze shifted from the officer’s face to the second lieutenant standing behind him. The baby-faced lieutenant looked back at him, giving him a barely perceptible shake of the head.
“This is Colonel Lu. He is in charge of this interrogation of Lu Mengzheng.”
“What interrogation?” Qi Ying knit his brows tightly. The second lieutenant had rarely seen him look this unsmiling. “My contact is Mr. Zheng Yaqiao. I’m not accountable to anyone else.”
Lu Chengjun burst into laughter, the scar on his mouth twisting into something even more gruesome.
“Mr. Qi, although Mr. Zheng isn’t here, who supplied the medication you used?”