“Poy…”
“Poy…”
After a moment of silence, the two spoke at the same time and then stopped simultaneously.
Lu Jin looked at him, gesturing for him to speak first. Chu Li faked a cough before asking, “Admiral, how much did it cost to build Poy?” As he asked, the corners of his mouth tightened, his expression betraying a deep sense of “financial” heartbreak.
“The military gave it to me,” Lu Jin replied. “It’s a decommissioned model.”
Chu Li let out a quick sigh of relief. Seeing that Lu Jin didn’t appear to be lying, he assumed Poy truly wasn’t worth much. “Admiral, what were you going to say?”
“How did you think of that escape method?” Usually, only trained mecha pilots know that specific emergency procedure.
Chu Li’s face flushed slightly, and his voice dropped a pitch. “Ahem, I read it in a book in the guest lounge earlier.”
“What book?”
“How to Pilot a Mecha While Ill.”
“…” Lu Jin.
Chu Li felt the atmosphere around the man freeze for a second. He looked up awkwardly. “I didn’t expect the content of that book to be real.”
After a long pause, the corner of Lu Jin’s mouth twitched. “Is that so? My young uncle compiled that book.”
“Oh, Admiral Lu Yu?”
“Yes.”
Chu Li had heard stories about Lu Yu. He and Lu Jin’s father, Lu Xing, were once hailed as the “Twin Stars of the Empire.” Both were valiant warriors who had won countless battles, but unfortunately, both died young on the battlefield.
If they were still alive today, the Empire wouldn’t be subjected to frequent Zerg attacks.
“Rest for now,” Lu Jin said. “A servant will wake you at seven.”
Chu Li nodded.
At seven o’clock, it wasn’t a servant who came for Chu Li, but Lu Jin himself.
Chu Li had fallen back into a light sleep filled with recurring nightmares. He couldn’t let go of the fear that he would miss the exam and waste the opportunity his grandfather had literally died to secure for him.
With groggy eyes, he asked, “Admiral, is the perception test really that simple?”
“Yes,” Lu Jin said.
The fact that Chu Li had successfully controlled a mecha during his very first empathy connection meant he had performed better than many A-grade Alphas. The registration test was straightforward; for him, it shouldn’t be much of an issue.
At the door, a female Beta nanny knocked and brought in porridge and breakfast, carefully setting them aside.
Seeing the unfamiliar face, Chu Li subconsciously asked, “Where is the butler?”
“Died in an accident,” Lu Jin said flatly.
“…” Chu Li.
For some reason, the hand holding his spoon trembled slightly. The profession of “butler” was starting to feel like a high-risk occupation.
He didn’t pry further, just as he hadn’t asked why Lu Jin hadn’t replied to his messages for the past two days. In many matters, the more one knows, the more dangerous it becomes.
He calmly sipped his porridge without looking up. “Admiral, please accept my condolences.”
Lu Jin’s lips quirked, as if suppressing a smile, as he watched him eat.
Chu Li had a good appetite; he finished two bowls of porridge and a dessert before injecting the painkillers and bone enhancers. Though he had been sore all over, the medicine made him feel instantly refreshed, as if he had endless strength to spare.
The nanny brought him clean clothes. He checked the size; they were a perfect fit.
He remembered the last time he came to Nebula, there were no clothes for him. He’d had to wear Lu Jin’s shirt and trousers; the shirt reached his knees and the trousers had to be rolled up twice just to walk.
Feeling the fabric, he recalled that his height was similar to Qu Yi’s. “Are these the butler’s clothes?”
“They were custom-made to your measurements.”
Chu Li was about to ask how Lu Jin knew his measurements, but the words died in his throat.
How did he know?
He must have measured him, inch by inch, during that “suspected” heat period.
Chu Li’s ears burned red. The white clothes only made the flush more prominent as he walked out to face Lu Jin.
Lu Jin lowered his gaze, inspecting the fit. “The tailor made a few extra pieces in case they didn’t fit. Take them all with you when you leave.”
The material was of medium quality and the style was conservative—it wouldn’t look out of place or too “high-profile” in the Lower District. Chu Li didn’t refuse the kindness.
Lu Jin had urgent military business to attend to, so he had the Beta nanny escort Chu Li to the registration department.
Perhaps to maintain a low profile, they traveled in a small black spaceship. In auto-pilot mode, the ship glided through the air. The transparent glass cockpit reflected suspended tracks, towering skyscrapers, and flying cars darting between them. Shimmering holographic advertisements sold various goods designed for quick dopamine hits.
Watching the dizzying visuals, Chu Li felt a bit “sea-sick.” The nanny quickly opened a wooden box and handed him a spray. After two puffs, his dizziness subsided. “Thank you.”
At the registration department, the nanny stayed in the ship to wait. Chu Li disembarked alone, took a number according to the instructions, and waited in the candidate area.
He was the 8th person in Group D. With the five-people-per-set testing format, it would be about half an hour until his turn. He scanned the crowd but saw no sign of Evans.
“Hey, I heard the test is stricter this year. They usually take forty people, but this year it’s only thirty-five.”
“Why only thirty-five?”
“Because the Fu family secured five guaranteed spots for mecha pilots this year. Tsk, I just hate that I don’t have the talent to get the Fu family’s favor.”
A few candidates behind him whispered. They ended with cold sneers and then fell silent together.
Chu Li understood why Evans hadn’t shown up. He frowned—not out of jealousy for Evans’ “luck,” but because the reduction to thirty-five spots meant the competitive pressure on him was now much higher.
“Qin Yu, 98!”
The machine announced the score of the first candidate from Group A.
The waiting area fell silent. A score of 98 was high enough to rank first in the mecha department recruitment over the last few years. The pressure on the remaining candidates intensified.
Fortunately, the second score was only 60—a low passing grade that didn’t leave much of an impression.
Chu Li lowered his gaze, tuning out the noise. He began to reconstruct Poy’s internal structure in his mind, simulating the training step by step. He had an excellent memory; he could remember things after seeing them once, and his brain worked like a computer to reassemble them.
“Mo Yizhou, 100 points.”
The waiting area erupted. Everyone repeated the name “Mo Yizhou” in disbelief. A candidate had actually achieved a perfect score.
“It’s been over ten years since a perfect-score genius appeared in the mecha department!”
“The surname is Mo… could it be someone from the Mo family?”
“If it were the Mo family, they would have gone to the Commander’s registration department next door.”
Meanwhile, after Chu Li left, Lu Jin opened his optical computer to handle official business.
The study’s doors and windows were tightly shut, and the lights were off. His features were hidden in the dim shadows. His communicator suddenly flickered with a message from his doctor.
[Admiral, the results are in. Although the medicine last night was suppressed by the inhibitor, it has triggered an early arrival of your susceptibility period.]
Last night, after Chu Li fell asleep, Lu Jin had checked Poy’s recorder. He had heard the things Qu Yi said to Chu Li and seen how Qu Yi did nothing to help after Poy disassembled, even though he clearly knew something was wrong.
After the previous butler left, Lu Rao had recommended Qu Yi, emphasizing his professionalism. Lu Jin had kept him on that basis. Last time, when Qu Yi intentionally led Chu Li into the guest lounge, Lu Jin had spared him only for Lu Rao’s sake.
But for such a “professional” butler to defy him repeatedly made Lu Jin curious—were these actions Qu Yi’s own, or Lu Rao’s?
At the time, Qu Yi had knelt on the floor, his soft hair trailing behind him. His thin, silk pajamas traced a slender silhouette as he crawled to Lu Jin’s feet, clutching his trousers and begging for forgiveness, claiming he did it out of love.
Lu Jin felt a surge of pure disgust and kicked him away. Qu Yi lunged back, and in that instant, he looked up and sprayed a substance directly into Lu Jin’s face.
A pungent smell filled his nostrils, and his body temperature spiked. Realizing something was wrong, he instinctively shoved Qu Yi to the ground.
A sweet, cloying pheromone began to leak from Qu Yi’s glands, filling the study. Lu Jin realized then that the “Beta” butler was actually an Omega.
Thinking Lu Jin had been successfully induced into a passive rut, Qu Yi clung to his thigh, baring his slender neck and begging for a mark. He said he only wanted to stay by his side—that he could do anything the Beta did, and even the things the Beta couldn’t.
He wasn’t greedy; he just wanted a temporary mark.
Under that desperate gaze, Lu Jin’s eyes turned a deep, bloodshot crimson. He reached out, grabbed Qu Yi by the throat, and threw him directly out of the second-story window.
The sound of the body hitting the ground was accompanied by a shrill scream.
Shortly after, a doctor arrived to inject Lu Jin with a special inhibitor to suppress the internal heat. Before leaving, the doctor took a sample of his blood and pheromones for further testing.
Lu Jin ignored the first message, and the doctor quickly sent another:
[Admiral, I suggest you do not return to the military for a while. Stay with your partner as much as possible to weather the susceptibility period that could arrive at any moment. Also, due to previous overuse of inhibitors, your body has developed antibodies. We need about a week to analyze your pheromone abnormality before we can synthesize a new inhibitor.]
[Understood.]
After replying, Lu Jin shut down his computer, rubbed his brow, and walked to the window.
His sharp profile was bathed in sunlight, giving him a faint, soft glow. His long lashes cast shadows over his eyes.
Thinking of something, he pulled up Fu Lin’s contact and asked him to forward the live video feed of the mecha competition.