Abnormal Growth
Qi Ying disliked dealing with politicians. Because they were like weasels—not much truth came out of their mouths.
Yet Zheng Yaqiao was likely the first politician he had encountered since regaining his memory. Where this impression came from was unknown; Qi Ying guessed the clues lay in the lost memories of his first 20 years, only he couldn’t recall them.
After Zheng Yaqiao left, Qi Ying sat in his chair staring at the monitor screen. When Lu Mengzheng was asleep and motionless, these screens looked practically static.
He digested the massive amount of information he had just heard for a while and helplessly accepted the reality of turning from a relaxed warehouse manager into the keeper of a dangerous Alpha. After all, plans couldn’t keep up with changes; right now, he could only stay on the military’s pirate ship. Once he calmed down, he pulled out his phone and searched Lu Mengzheng’s name, finding nothing.
Qi Ying wasn’t surprised by this. On one hand, military personnel information was likely classified, making the probability of finding it online low; on the other hand, Jasu still had strict internet restrictions, preventing him from querying data from other countries.
However, judging from the design of the combat pants and cargo boots this Alpha wore, he was very likely from the New Asia Republic. His military rank couldn’t be determined because he wore only a white, tight-fitting tank top on his upper body. Qi Ying could only guess that he was extremely important, tied to the war situation, and possessed a high degree of danger—otherwise, he wouldn’t be receiving such “high-spec” treatment.
To be honest, with a standout appearance like Lu Mengzheng’s, he’d be the school hearthrob at a university and the unit hearthrob in the military. If one asked around in the New Asia Republic, it probably wouldn’t be hard to find out his background. Perhaps Ning Jiaxin’s father, being well-traveled, would know this person; but considering the non-disclosure agreement, he couldn’t tell anyone, so he dropped the thought.
At seven in the evening, a second lieutenant delivered dinner for two right on time. By then, Qi Ying had almost finished studying how to use the monitoring equipment and access control system.
He looked at the food tray, somewhat surprised. “He eats this little?”
This second lieutenant had a baby face, but his expression was remarkably mature. “Well, he hasn’t complained it’s too little.”
“What if I think it’s too little?”
The second lieutenant glanced at him. “He hasn’t complained it’s too little.”
“…Haha.” Qi Ying gave an awkward laugh. “This language sure is deep and profound.”
The second lieutenant was economical with his words and had no time to banter with him, leaving quickly. Only Qi Ying remained, frowning at the bland food tray.
The generous military troops were actually so stingy when it came to meals—or perhaps they never intended to let Lu Mengzheng eat too well to begin with, so his meals had been docked along with him.
Good thing he had brought instant noodles.
Qi Ying grumbled while picking up the meal tray. He glanced up at the monitor and found that Lu Mengzheng seemed to be awake. His position had shifted—he had moved from leaning against the wall to the edge of the bed, hanging his head low, unknown what he was thinking.
Qi Ying walked toward the containment cell. This place utilized top-tier firepower countermeasure systems; the gleaming forged-steel door was formed in one piece, boasting level-one explosion-proof capabilities. At the thought that a dangerous, mysterious Alpha was locked inside, Qi Ying’s heart thudded wildly. Fortunately, he didn’t need to open this door—he only needed to pass the food through a small hatch beside it.
He pressed the button, and the hatch popped open. The moment the conveyor belt sensed the weight of the tray, it began operating automatically. After the food slowly came to a stop at the designated spot, Qi Ying took a deep breath, held down the intercom switch at the doorway, and said, “Mr. Lu, time to eat.”
Like a pebble dropped into the vast ocean, there was no response.
He stood there without leaving immediately. After about a minute, he finally heard the dull thud of cargo boots stepping onto the ground, and the footsteps grew closer and closer.
The light from the hatch was completely blocked by a towering shadow. Qi Ying knew Lu Mengzheng was standing right there, staring at the food tray, but hesitating to make the next move.
Qi Ying looked down as well—stir-fried chicken with broccoli, celery, and egg drop soup with barely any egg wisps. It was indeed hard to stir up an appetite.
“Not very tasty, huh,” he said with difficulty. “But there isn’t anything else. Just make do with a few bites.”
Through the small hatch, he saw a broad palm land on the edge of the food tray. The fingers were long, the knuckles thick, and the veins on the back of his hand bulged—it looked as if he could snap anyone’s neck with ease. Around his wrist was a black, high-performance suppressant bracelet. Qi Ying wasn’t an Omega, so he didn’t feel the physiological pressure brought by a top-tier Alpha, yet his heart still trembled, and he took half a step back.
Just then, he heard Lu Mengzheng ask, “Are you new here?”
The voice wasn’t ferocious; in fact, it sounded remarkably gentle. Qi Ying was dazed for a moment. “Yeah, the last guy resigned.”
Lu Mengzheng let out a soft chuckle, but in the quiet, empty containment cell, it could be heard with complete clarity.
“What are you laughing at?” Qi Ying asked.
“He didn’t resign. He was just crippled.”
“What happened?”
Lu Mengzheng’s tone sounded casual due to exhaustion: “He came to provoke me without wearing a suppressant patch, and even demanded that I take medication.”
Qi Ying froze for a moment. “What medication?”
“You don’t know?” Lu Mengzheng seemed slightly surprised. “Didn’t your superior brief you?”
“No. My mission is only to ensure your health.”
As soon as he said this, Qi Ying felt that in the other man’s eyes, he was probably no different from a weasel—sounding utterly hypocritical.
Sure enough, Lu Mengzheng let out a laugh. “Alright. A white tablet—he said it was a sleeping pill.”
Qi Ying remembered that when he was familiarizing himself with the storage room earlier, he had indeed seen a type of white tablet kept in an orange light-proof jar. The exterior lacked any labels regarding efficacy or instructions, nor did it have a market approval number, naturally. But what was far worse than this was that he was now completely certain Zheng Yaqiao was an old fox—he had intentionally concealed the tragic fate of the previous keeper. Clearly, Lu Mengzheng was already in the fluctuating stage before the onset of a heat, exhibiting a degree of irritability, hot-headedness, and violent tendencies.
“…The last guy had the last guy’s issues!” To save his own life, Qi Ying immediately guaranteed, “I’m different.”
Lu Mengzheng was silent for a moment. “You’re a Beta?”
Qi Ying almost thought the other man had seen his face, but quickly realized Lu Mengzheng probably just hadn’t felt any pheromones from him.
“Right, a Beta. So I won’t pose a threat to you—you can relax a bit.”
Lu Mengzheng hesitated for a second. “What’s your name?”
I’m not stupid, Qi Ying thought.
Although Zheng Yaqiao was a total scumbag, Qi Ying thoroughly agreed with his advice. What if he offended Lu Mengzheng over something during these few days, and this Alpha of unknown origin struck gold, escaped, or got released? Wouldn’t he come back to seek revenge on him?
“That’s not important.” He cleared his throat, attempting to push his luck. “You can call me ‘Sir’.”
Lu Mengzheng let out another soft chuckle; this newcomer was far more amusing than the previous one. Straightening his posture slightly, he raised his chin. “State your rank.”
When out and about, one’s identity is self-given. Qi Ying said without blushing, “Colonel.”
Lu Mengzheng was well aware of the Jasu military’s situation. Among their five colonels, there were absolutely no Betas—four Alphas and one Omega. The person standing outside was eighty percent likely just a small soldier who loved to brag.
Yet Lu Mengzheng pressed further: “So you’re a Jasu local?”
“Of course, born and raised. How else would I enlist?”
As if losing interest in the conversation, Lu Mengzheng said no more, picked up his meal tray, and walked away.
While eating the bland, tasteless food on his tray, Qi Ying used Lu Mengzheng as a side dish to help his appetite.
He had already learned how to adjust the camera’s direction, angle, and even focal length. He called up a camera by the dining table and zoomed in on Lu Mengzheng, allowing him to clearly see how Lu Mengzheng ate.
Qi Ying discovered that this man actually had heterochromia.
His left pupil was an amber color slightly lighter than normal, while his right was a blue-gray. However, Lu Mengzheng’s eyebrows and hair were also a desaturated black-gray, so everything looked harmonious without feeling weird—if anything, it added a touch of exotic charm. Coupled with his superior facial features and mesmerizing temperament, he ate at an unhurried, steady pace, sitting straight without a trace of a captive’s despondency.
With someone so well-trained and well-mannered, Qi Ying suspected he was at least a lieutenant; at any rate, he couldn’t be a regular private.
Setting down his chopsticks, he discreetly adjusted the lens down a bit further, aiming straight at the other man’s chest muscles. Where the fabric clung tight, there was cleavage.
Unsure if the camera adjustment had made a sound, Lu Mengzheng suddenly looked straight in the direction of the lens, startling Qi Ying so badly he nearly fell off his stool.
However, Lu Mengzheng seemed accustomed to days accompanied by surveillance cameras and didn’t investigate further, getting up and leaving the table.
An hour later, Qi Ying returned to the conveyor belt to retrieve the meal tray. The plates, bowls, and chopsticks were placed neatly in order, and no food had been wasted.
When he went to the storage room to get a trash bag, Qi Ying thought of the white tablets Lu Mengzheng had mentioned again.
He located that orange jar on the shelf once more, poured out a tablet, and pinched it between his fingers. It smelled a bit bitter, and with a light crush, powder rubbed off onto his hands. It clearly looked different from any sleeping pills he knew on the market. He held it up against the light to look closer—engraved on it were four letters: AFPC.
Deducing from the contract terms, the military didn’t want any mishaps to happen to Lu Mengzheng in Storage Room 105 because they needed to deliver him to the government whole and unharmed in a month, so this shouldn’t be poison. Plus, AFPC stood for Armed Forces Pharmacy Command; Qi Ying leaned toward it being some unreleased, specially formulated military drug. Its effects were hard to gauge.
Why trick Lu Mengzheng into taking this kind of drug? The more Qi Ying thought about it, the more he felt this game was a bit too big.
When a whale is dragged into a whirlpool, it can still struggle and fight, but a tiny shrimp stands only to be crushed into dust. As an ordinary citizen, Qi Ying felt bad about this—very bad.
Yet Lu Mengzheng, sitting right in the center of the whirlpool, looked quite leisurely instead. He was currently doing his daily workout inside the containment cell.
Sit-ups, push-ups, squats—it made Qi Ying dizzy just watching. Sweating profusely, Lu Mengzheng even pulled off his tank top in one swift motion, exposing his bare muscle-bound upper body as he walked back and forth in front of the lens with zero self-awareness about avoiding Qi Ying.
In truth, this couldn’t be blamed on him either. Most Alphas showed a degree of restraint in front of Omegas, whereas Betas were viewed as genderless entities. Lu Mengzheng likely didn’t view this as a form of sexual harassment.
Yet Qi Ying still felt harassed. He concentrated his mind, trying hard to pull back to his previous train of thought.
What was it again? Oh right, this game is pretty big…
Big…
It’s so big.
How on earth are his muscles this big?!
And that place down his abdomen is pretty big too…
What on earth is that?!
Qi Ying kicked the desk leg, severing his thoughts by force. Just as he picked up the intercom, Lu Mengzheng finally finished his exercise and walked into the shower room.
A prisoner naturally couldn’t possess full privacy. Luckily, the man himself didn’t seem to mind; turning his back to the camera, he unzipped his pants and unbuttoned them. For the first time, Qi Ying noticed that this Alpha’s back was covered in large and small scars. Aside from the obvious knife and gunshot wounds, most were strange, unidentifiable burn marks. But before he could think further, he was already looking at Lu Mengzheng’s taut, solid lower back and the waist of his black underwear…
Wait… hold on, he’s not going to keep taking things off, is he?
If he takes off any more, everything is going to bounce right in my face!
Pervert!
AAAAH! You dirty pervert!
Qi Ying leaped up and temporarily shut off the display monitor corresponding to the bathroom camera.
Yet the sound of running water was still picked up by the audio feed. Qi Ying didn’t know where to put his hands or feet, and only after half a minute did he stumble over to the suitcase to grab the fish food.
Feeding the fish is good. Feeding the fish is great. It cultivates the mind and calms the spirit.
As he sprinkled food for Koukou, he tried his absolute best to calm down, extending a finger outside the tank to tease it. Koukou’s fish eyes bulged, its mouth opening and closing as it bumped its mouth against his fingertip across the glass.
Silly Koukou, dumb Koukou.
Kou…
Kou what Kou!
For the first time, Qi Ying felt his pet’s name sounded a bit suggestive. When Ning Jiaxin had pointed this out before, he had dismissed it, thinking the young girl’s mind was just dirty. Now his mind was messed up too!!
He jerked his finger back.
Before long, the sound of water stopped completely. Lu Mengzheng wiped his wet hair, fully dressed as he returned to the bed camera’s field of view, allowing Qi Ying to breathe a sigh of relief.
At ten-thirty, the containment cell entered lights-out mode right on schedule. Qi Ying felt relieved to see this grueling, endless day finally come to a close. He pressed the intercom and bade goodnight to Lu Mengzheng in the dark.
However, a warm blessing like that shouldn’t appear in a prison. Lu Mengzheng rolled over, returning a cold, stony silence.
“Good—night—” Qi Ying propped his ankles onto the edge of the desk, drawing out his voice as he repeated, “impolite Mr. Lu.”
To tell the truth, he didn’t really care about the prisoner’s attitude. He could understand—after all, being locked up in a cell wasn’t pleasant. But he wasn’t faring much better either. Lu Mengzheng got to sleep so early and comfortably, while he still had to submit that day’s watch log before midnight.
For 8,000 yuan, he woke up earlier than the prisoner and went to bed later than the prisoner. What went in was broccoli, and what came out was milk… oh wait, Betas don’t have that…
The more Qi Ying thought, the more annoyed he felt. Propping up his feet, he held his tablet and scribbled on it haphazardly—
– November 3 –
[Event Log]
19:00 – 19:30 Dinner
20:15 – 21:45 Workout, Shower
22:30 Sleep
[Abnormalities]
~~D*ck abnormally long, haha am I fucking crazy~~ (Deleted)
None
[Items Needed]
Ambient Pheromone Concentration Detector
Qi Ying reviewed it all once more, hovering the cursor over the submit button. Before clicking, he went back to the [Items Needed] section and added two words—
Chicken leg.
#RealRecordOfAWorkingClassCorpseMentalState