An Ming had no idea what was going on; he was being carried along like a confused little chick, whisked away at a dizzying speed.
Evan’s insectoid form looked terrifying, but his movements were careful and not at all rough. An Ming was a bit shaken by the jolting run, but he wasn’t being hurt.
Evan brought him onto a semi-open circular platform and quickly pressed a red switch.
“Short-range photonic teleportation.”
Before An Ming could even process what that term meant, a white light flashed beneath his feet, instantly enveloping his entire body. In the blink of an eye, his body felt a light lift and drop the scenery around him had completely changed.
Evan continued to haul him toward a specific direction.
Ahead was a large hall. Not far away stood milky-white walls forming a giant structure within the spaceship’s interior. Several soldiers were running back and forth, and someone was standing at the entrance of the building, shouting something.
Everyone’s face was tense with anxiety.
“Open the door! Open the door! Open the door!” they shouted.
The heavy alloy doors slid open to the left and right. Several soldiers in combat gear carried someone out; the person being carried had lost consciousness, their mouth and nose covered in blood.
As they passed An Ming, the little merman’s mouth hung open in shock at the bloody scene.
“Close the door! Close the door! Close the door!” everyone shouted again.
In the brief moment before the door shut, An Ming saw four mechas fighting inside.
To be precise, three ten-meter-tall giant black mechas were collaborating to attack a single three-meter-tall small mecha.
The small mecha had no paint just bare metal and its mechanical structure appeared much simpler.
Meanwhile, the sounds of violent impact were constant; once the door closed, they turned into dull, heavy thuds.
Many soldiers had just arrived to provide support and were getting synchronized on the situation.
“The Boss is attacking indiscriminately!”
“Hoke’s mecha is already totaled!”
“It was supposed to be a sparring session. But not long after the Boss got into the mecha, he started a frantic slaughter. For some reason, he’s treating Hoke like an enemy and fighting to kill!”
Listening to the metallic clashing and the thundering vibrations coming from inside, everyone was burning with anxiety.
At that moment, a light flickered on the floor, and the image of Number Nine’s black panel gradually took shape, stabilizing after a few flickers.
“Has the little merman arrived?” Number Nine’s holographic image asked. Likely due to holographic limitations, it had to rotate its body before seeing him. “Ah, you’re here!”
“What’s the situation now?” Evan asked.
“More severe than usual,” Number Nine said. “It will take two doses of powerful suppressants to subdue the Boss. But right now, no one can get close enough to do it.”
Number Nine paused for a second, scouting the internal situation, and added: “The three of them are about to buckle. The Boss is too fierce; he’s using a practice mecha against the most sophisticated offensive mechas, and it’s only been ten rounds.”
Evan: “Someone can.” He ordered the guarding soldiers, “Open the door.”
“Wait a moment,” Number Nine intercepted.
It looked at the dazed little merman. “Though I cannot fully automate mecha control, I can manage simple movements.” As it spoke, the sounds from inside grew even more violent. “I can hold him off for… thirty seconds.”
“An Ming,” Number Nine said quickly, its holographic voice carrying an eerie, ethereal quality. “It is necessary to explain the situation to you first. LAN has fallen into a heat-induced frenzy Level 3. It is far more intense than what you experienced two days ago. Right now, no one but you can stop him. We need you to enter alone and give him two tubes of suppressants. Of course, it would be even better if you could perform a pseudo-marking① on him.”
An Ming’s eyes widened.
Holographic Number Nine continued: “He must be calmed down now. Otherwise, with LAN’s combat prowess and mental strength, coupled with total loss of control, he could destroy the entire ship once he gets out. Neither you nor I would survive.”
Everyone turned their gaze toward An Ming.
An Ming’s face was as white as paper. Number Nine’s words sounded incredibly grave, but he was completely unfamiliar with the arena inside. Just seeing those mechanical arms scared him to death; a single light blow could shatter every bone in his body.
“I’m counting on you,” Number Nine said earnestly.
Evan took a box from a nearby logistics soldier, opened it, and stuffed two tubes of suppressants into An Ming’s hands. He said in a deep voice: “Aim for his gland and stab it in; the liquid will inject automatically and rapidly.”
An Ming stammered: “I… I…”
“Don’t worry,” Number Nine added. “You will definitely be accepted by LAN; he won’t pose any danger to you. Whereas any other Alpha pheromones will only trigger a more intense rage. Ned, Twist, Shawn②, retreat!” it commanded loudly.
An Ming didn’t believe it at all! He was just not allergic they were all Alphas, so how could he be that special?!
The thick doors slid open again. The three mechas received the signal and delivered a combined strike; taking advantage of the moment the small mecha moved to defend, they retreated at top speed toward the door.
Two unmanned mechas immediately stepped up under Number Nine’s control to fill the gap.
The three soldiers climbed down, drenched in sweat, with traces of blood at the corners of their mouths and extremely pale faces. They had overexerted their mental strength and were completely exhausted.
The other brothers rushed forward to support them.
Evan remained in his insectoid state, his pincer-like arm patting An Ming’s shoulder. “Aim true and stab!”
“The one who tied the knot must be the one to untie it,” Number Nine said. “Send him in.”
An Ming was completely stunned; with a gentle push from Evan, he stumbled through the doors of the training grounds.
The door behind him shut with a “Shhh—!” LAN’s mecha had already swatted away the obstacles and was walking toward him with a muffled heavy gait.
An Ming’s scales stood on end instantly, and a wave of cold numbness rose from the soles of his feet.
“I can’t do this!” He turned around and banged on the large door, both angry and terrified.
The people outside paid no heed. Number Nine’s voice came from above, broadcast through the training ground’s speakers: “I am still here; I can assist you.”
What do you mean “here”? An Ming thought tearfully. It would be fine if that black panel was here, but what use was just a voice?
He turned around and gasped. Amidst the mecha wreckage scattered across the floor, Number Nine’s black panel had been dismembered; metal chips and various parts were strewn everywhere. Two broken syringes were mixed in the debris.
Number Nine’s helpless voice rang out again: “I failed to succeed.”
An Ming didn’t even have the heart to complain. The cold, towering mecha had already come to a halt right in front of him, staring down at him.
An Ming closed his eyes.
No, he really couldn’t do this. He was going to be killed.
He waited for a long time.
He didn’t know how long.
The expected blow never fell.
An Ming opened his eyes slightly. His heart was pounding violently from fear and he was breaking out in a cold sweat, completely unaware that this sweat was saturated with rich pheromones that were drifting toward LAN.
He was shaking so hard that his hand slipped, and the syringes fell onto the metal floor with a crisp echo.
The next second, a mechanical arm swept across, swatting the suppressants away.
An Ming swallowed hard, whimpering…
He only saw LAN’s incredibly swift and utterly disgusted movement, yet he failed to perceive the faint hint of childishness within it.
LAN hated suppressants.
No one liked chemical synthetics that did nothing but suppress one’s nature.
“Hoo… Hoo—” Heavy breathing sounds came through the mecha’s amplification equipment, carrying immense pressure and vibrating against the little merman’s eardrums.
He had to… he had to do something.
An Ming forced himself to speak: “LAN… can you… can you open… the mecha…?”
The suppressants were gone, and LAN was still inside the mecha; he could only try a pseudo-marking. But would LAN listen to him? If only the fierce dragon-man could come out of the mecha, he would be safer overall…
An Ming really didn’t want to imagine the picture of himself being crushed by the mecha.
Thud. The three-meter-tall mecha bent its knees and knelt before the little merman. The ground trembled slightly.
An Ming was stunned.
Click. The device at the chest of the mecha opened, exposing LAN’s entire body.
The practice mecha wasn’t large; the pilot was fixed inside with limbs spread.
The little merman’s words were like an absolute decree; LAN… had listened to him.
The mixed-blood dragon-man’s blonde hair was completely soaked with sweat. His eyes were out of focus as he faced the little merman, appearing to look at something behind him. There was no sign of the frenzy left.
An Ming quickly turned his head; the door was still tightly shut, and there was nothing behind him.
Number Nine’s voice timely came from above: “LAN has entered a trance state following the frenzy…”
An Ming didn’t understand what a “trance” was, but his intuition told him it wasn’t a good word.
“Listen,” Number Nine’s voice became exceptionally serious. “Now, you must not only soothe him but also pull him out of the trance.”
What Number Nine couldn’t say was that the shrinking of the mental sea was actually the continuous disappearance of effective mental zones, turning into a boundless, unusable void that caused one to lose themselves.
“LAN?” An Ming called out. LAN didn’t respond at all.
“What should I do?” An Ming asked Number Nine.
“Follow your instinct,” Number Nine said.
“Instinct?” The little merman was confused, but the AI didn’t reply to him again.
LAN remained motionless. An Ming swallowed and slowly stepped forward.
He thought about it; if he were to follow his instinct… The little merman raised his right hand and pressed his sweat-dampened palm against the mixed-blood dragon-man’s cheek.
The touch was moist and soft, carrying LAN’s unique scent.
An Ming could sense that LAN’s pheromones were very cold and sharp, but perhaps because they were both aquatic-based creatures, he didn’t find it uncomfortable. On the contrary…
He carefully stroked LAN’s face, gradually increasing the pressure. His fingertips meticulously traced LAN’s brows, eyes, and the tip of his nose…
“Ngh…” LAN let out a low groan, and his green-gold eyes regained a bit of clarity.
“…Who are you?” He furrowed his handsome brows.
“I am An Ming.” The little merman hadn’t expected it to work so quickly, and his confidence surged.
“Who is An Ming?”
“Your…” An Ming realized LAN was still far from recovered. “A friend, here to help you.”
“Oh…” LAN closed his eyes briefly.
“I’m so tired…” he said.
“Mm,” the little merman replied.
“My mental sea… is so empty… I can hardly feel it anymore…”
An Ming didn’t understand. Number Nine remained silent.
In the massive enclosed space, only he and LAN remained.
LAN was strapped upright in the mecha, and he stood before LAN.
An Ming asked, “How do you feel? Is there anything else I can do to make you more comfortable?”
LAN had not yet recognized him. In a voice used for a stranger, he asked, “You aren’t afraid of me?”
An Ming was still a little bit afraid, but at this moment, it was more of an indescribable emotion. Looking at LAN’s appearance, his chest tightened for some reason.
“I’m not afraid,” the little merman said.
“…Not afraid of being made into soup?”
He seemed to remember who he was.
An Ming pursed his lips.
LAN cleared up a bit, but he didn’t feel any positive sensations at all. Instead, he was utterly despondent.
An Ming hadn’t forgotten his mission.
“I… can I mark you?”
LAN didn’t speak; he just kept staring at him.
That gaze was very complex, revealing confusion, sadness, and an unspeakable longing.
“It’s a futile effort; you don’t have to come over,” he replied.
An Ming grew suspicious. LAN knew the current situation, right? Why was he so pessimistic? He had finally met an Alpha who wasn’t allergic why was he so unwilling?
Was it because he had been lonely for too long and wasn’t used to it?
An Ming thought of the long days he had spent lying in a hospital bed. A lonely person craves comfort.
“It will work,” An Ming’s voice was soft, yet possessed great strength. He tried reaching out his left hand as well, touching LAN’s face.
LAN did not refuse.
An Ming’s hands slid through the wet hair, wrapping around the back of LAN’s head, gently bringing it toward himself.
Like a tamed big cat, LAN obediently lowered his head.
An Ming saw the glowing gland, completely open, bulging with a layer of white membrane.