The little merman trembled as he stuck out his tongue, prepared for LAN to struggle and resist.
The dragon scales were cold and hard, and pheromones as sharp as blades had already begun to leak out.
I must protect LAN.
With this sole thought in his mind, An Ming steeled himself and tried to press forward.
To his surprise, the hybrid man-dragon submissively opened his pearly teeth, offering his soft, warm tongue-tip to him in total honesty.
An Ming had no experience; his face flushed crimson as he transferred his saliva into LAN’s mouth, thinking to himself: My first kiss is gone.
LAN was kissed passively for a moment before he slowly began to respond. An Ming felt the hard scales beneath his fingers gradually revert into soft neck skin. He opened his eyes slightly and saw that LAN’s pupils were blue, narrowed, blurry, and enchanting.
Great, my pheromones are working.
An Ming thought this, attempting to withdraw his tongue.
But LAN moved both hands onto An Ming’s back, gradually deepening this sudden kiss.
Cold collided with cold; pheromones became entangled with one another.
The mouth was repeatedly ground and explored; every inch of flavor was to be swallowed by the other party.
An endless demand.
The long kiss finally ended, and An Ming sat back in his seat, panting slightly.
He straightened the wrinkles in his clothes and awkwardly lifted his eyes to look across from him.
Yvain was already awake, turning his head away with a red face.
Number Nine looked at him with an expression of envy.
“An Xiaoming, this method of yours is great! It really works! How did it feel?”
An Ming: “…”
The heat that had just receded surged back even stronger.
Having recovered from his dragon state, LAN said coldly, “Shut up, Number Nine.”
The four of them fell into silence.
No one offered an explanation for the words spoken by the Imperial Guards outside.
The guards were still drinking, cursing loudly: “Who is sitting over there? All that noise is ruining my mood!”
The sound of chairs moving could be heard; someone was coming over to investigate.
The bartender stopped them: “Two pairs of lovers, they just can’t help acting thirsty. Don’t look. It’ll just dirty your eyes.”
“Hmph.” The sound indicated he sat back down. “You’re a good lad, waiter. Bring another round of drinks!”
“Coming right up!”
Evan suddenly asked Number Nine, “What is the probability of me being recognized?”
“You alone?” Number Nine calculated quickly. “A 95% chance they can see you’re Zerg, a 30% chance they link you to the Justice Army based on rumors, and a 1% chance they connect you to Blue Wind.”
“Fine.” Evan was quite calm, showing none of the previous irritation. He turned to LAN: “Boss.”
LAN was also calm, responding with a single word: “Okay.”
An Ming’s heart skipped a beat.
But Evan didn’t move.
“Let’s wait a bit,” the Zerg said. “I don’t want to dirty this shop.”
If the guards didn’t leave, they would wait.
Meanwhile, the person at the next table who had somehow broken a wine glass called for the bill in a low voice and left early.
They sat until there were only thirty minutes left before the Vulcan Festival began, when the drunken guards finally departed.
“Hey, brother, you think I’ll meet an Omega during the parade? Love at first sight, like dry wood on a fire, and take them back to my place?”
“Haha, you’d better pray you meet that merman! I want to go back to the home planet and rest.”
“If we catch that merman Omega, the brothers will have our fill of fun first.”
Evan stood up following them: “You guys have fun.”
With that, he left first, following the guards out of the bar.
Number Nine stretched and took a torch out of his marching bag: “An Xiaoming, let’s go play.”
An Ming knew that those six guards would never encounter any Omega again; the only thing waiting for them was death.
Specifically, a demon of death covered in barbs with six Zerg eyes.
The ancient and eerie Vulcan Festival began punctually at midnight.
Countless people Black Pool locals and tourists alike, regardless of race or gender all held torches and joined the long procession, walking slowly.
An Ming received a torch with a metal switch that could be turned on or off at any time, and could control the release of different chemical powders to make the flames appear bright red or translucent blue.
Under the pitch-black night sky, the continuous lines of blue and red flames wound through the streets from one end of the town, snaking upward until they reached the distant hilltop. Led by the vanguard, they continued forward as if they had already ascended into the sky.
Despite such breathtaking beauty, An Ming was not in the mood.
He followed for a while before losing interest. He didn’t even bother to watch the fire-breathing performances in the middle of the procession.
He stared at the dark mass of people, seemingly seeing the shadow of a hood again…
But when he looked closer…
There were several people in hooded robes in the crowd; nothing special…
“Let’s go back,” An Ming said.
He was tired and just wanted to sleep.
“Mm,” LAN replied. Since recovering from the dragon state, he had remained silent.
An Ming was certain that the guards’ words had a deep connection to LAN; he could feel the gloom and hostility surging beneath LAN’s calm exterior.
Yet, LAN was still willing to accompany him to the Vulcan Festival.
However, while the current LAN was still gentle toward him, An Ming felt very, very far away from him. He might have been close to LAN once, touching that burning heart for a few moments.
Now, it was closed off once more.
Back at the inn, passing the room of the four soldiers, Number Nine checked their wristwatches; they were fast asleep.
There was no news from Yvain. Number Nine sent a communication, but there was no response.
However, the physical monitoring automatically sent back by the Zerg showed everything was normal, so there was nothing to worry about.
Number Nine went back to his room alone. Before entering, he pulled the little merman aside: “An Xiaoming, I have a secret to tell you.”
An Ming stopped and looked at him.
LAN nodded: “You guys chat.” He went into the innermost room first.
The late-night corridor was silent and empty. Number Nine stood by the door: “An Xiaoming, do you know? I’m actually very powerful; I can sneak into the internal network database of the Human Imperial Royalty without anyone knowing.”
“Those six guards… they weren’t good people. They were supposed to be the embodiment of the Human Empire’s laws, yet they personally trampled on fairness and justice.”
“By the way, do you know why we are called the Justice Army? Actually, in the galaxy, they all call us the Rebel Army, haha. But that’s just a name, it doesn’t matter. We call ourselves the Justice Army because we hope to represent true justice. Not the illusory, hypocritical kind.”
Number Nine whispered: “The soldiers we recruit are all the best, but they were also marginalized people hybrids, orphans, or from poor backgrounds… We give our brothers back their fairness and let everyone stay away from environments where they were excluded.”
An Ming listened seriously.
“LAN’s ambition is very big. He wants to establish his own ideal empire, it’s just a pity… But I, Evan, and all of us are willing to serve him with total loyalty, to fight together for this great cause until our dying breath.”
“And you, An Xiaoming, Justice Army Personnel No. X002 regardless of whether your partner relationship with LAN is fake or real, I hope, I beg of you, to fulfill some of the responsibilities of a partner. Comfort him more. Don’t let him… get too exhausted.”
“Perhaps you are doubting something, but I think LAN will tell you himself.”
“Please believe that he is a good person.”
After Number Nine finished speaking, he looked at An Ming with sincere emotion.
It had to be said, his expression had reached a state of perfection, and his words were so full of emotion that An Ming believed him implicitly.
Number Nine said goodnight and returned to his room.
An Ming stood stunned in the corridor for a long time.
Since he and LAN were an AO couple, the inn naturally provided them with one room.
After a while, when he went inside, the hybrid dragon-man was nowhere to be seen. The bathroom light was on, and the sound of pitter-patter from the shower could be heard.
The inn was small not even as good as the Phoenix. There was only one room, so An Ming sat on the edge of the bed and waited.
Before long, LAN came out wearing a bathrobe. His golden hair was dripping with water, wetting his shoulders.
The two looked at each other, and neither spoke.
It was An Ming’s turn to go in.
As the door closed, he thought while washing.
What was the relationship between LAN and the late General Blue Wind of the Human Empire? They were both hybrid dragon-men, both Omegas, and both had SSS-level mental power…
Also, were the things the guards said true? From books, he only knew that the Dragon Race was extinct, the Merman Race was barely surviving, and the Human Empire was at its peak…
Why did the Humans and Zerg attack the Dragon Race? What did the Dragon Race do wrong?
General Blue Wind was pushed to the very front of the war between his father’s race and his mother’s race. What kind of desperate situation was he facing back then…
And all of this was so similar to that movie he had watched.
An Ming suddenly thought of the phrase Number Nine had said in a moment of urgency: “The secret that he didn’t die cannot be discovered.”
So…
Is LAN… Blue Wind?
An Ming’s mind was filled with a thousand thoughts; he couldn’t wait to ask and clear things up.
However, he and LAN had only known each other for a few days. Even if LAN was very, very good to him, he still couldn’t abruptly ask such questions.
He had no standing or right to ask…
He finished his shower in a daze and wrapped a bathrobe around himself, the belt not yet tied. Suddenly, he noticed a dark shadow outside the frosted glass bathroom door.
It was LAN.
…How long had he been standing outside the door?
Was he waiting for him?
What was he waiting for?
Thinking of Number Nine’s words, An Ming’s throat felt dry. He cautiously pulled open the bathroom door.
“LAN?” The little merman lifted eyes clouded with steam and called out softly.
The bathrobe on the hybrid man-dragon was slightly loose, half-revealing the tight and stylish contours of his chest muscles. His hair was still wet, and his skin had a few water stains, shimmering with a honey-colored luster under the light.
A long dragon tail with a tufted end emerged. As if it had a life of its own, it wound slowly toward the little merman. After testing the little merman’s bathrobe with a touch, it unhesitatingly wrapped around his wrist and crawled slowly up his arm.
It tightened more and more.
A cold, numbing sensation spread from his wrist to his entire body.
An Ming found it difficult to breathe.
The hybrid dragon-man tightened his tail, slowly applying force, pulling the little merman inch by inch into his warm embrace.
He kissed the little merman’s eye and said:
“Touch my tail. Mark me.”