Confrontation
The alpha prisoners watched his back with vicious, hostile eyes. If not restrained, they would have torn him apart.
As if sensing their hostility, Ying Zhu stopped again and closed his eyes.
The sealed hall seemed to be swept by an invisible chill. The prisoners felt a deep, bone-chilling fear, as if it had taken form and seized them. Under the overwhelming pressure, they dropped to their knees, trembling.
Ying Zhu opened his eyes and walked on. An administrator stepped forward to open the door.
Once his figure disappeared beyond the narrow doorway, the prisoners finally broke free from the fear, exchanging uneasy glances.
“That was mental suppression,” 6777 realized. As an S-level omega, Ying Zhu had psychic abilities.
Another prisoner muttered, “Then he didn’t need to use a gun to interrogate 6438. Mental suppression would’ve been enough.”
6777 said, “He did it on purpose.”
After leaving Usher Prison, Ying Zhu got into his car. Several armed vehicles followed behind.
“Head to the East District,” he ordered.
As they drove, the surroundings grew increasingly bleak.
Though both were part of Xing division, the West and East Districts were completely different worlds.
After the war, the wealthy and powerful occupied the West District—clean streets, neat buildings, well-maintained greenery.
The East District was unstable, filled with conflict and criminal groups that had formed organized gangs.
The most powerful of them was the Canaan Society, led by Cen Xie.
Ying Zhu knew Cen Xie—not because he was the leader, but because they had once been at the same special training school before the war. They had never interacted, only known of each other.
Cen Xie had a bad reputation—people said he was promiscuous and chaotic in his personal life.
Both were rare S-level omegas, both had seen war. But aside from that, they had no connection.
They had only met once, many years ago.
After the war, all soldiers had to undergo psychological evaluation at the Twin Towers.
That day, after finishing, they passed each other at the entrance.
They exchanged a distant glance, then went their separate ways.
…….
East District, Canaan Society.
After escaping, 3348 and 3349 didn’t dare approach Cen Xie. Instead, they found Chen Jiu, hoping to get money to leave.
Chen Jiu met them at a street corner, glaring. “Are you two insane?”
As they whispered, a sleek black luxury car approached.
Chen Jiu’s heart sank. In the East District, only their leader used such a car.
Sure enough, Cen Xie noticed them. The window rolled down, revealing a strikingly beautiful face.
He glanced at the two escapees beside Chen Jiu. After a long silence, he said, “Am I seeing things?”
Chen Jiu stepped forward. “Boss, they escaped from Usher Prison.”
Cen Xie paused, then said lightly, “Then Ying Zhu must be furious.”
He even laughed. “I’d love to see his expression right now.”
The window began to rise.
The two escapees felt relieved, thinking he would ignore them.
But before it fully closed, his final word drifted out—
“Bring them.”
Their hope shattered instantly.
The car drove on and stopped at the headquarters. Chen Jiu and the two followed.
He quickly opened the door.
Cen Xie stepped out. His dark hair was tousled by the night wind. He wore a black jacket, a gun at his waist, boots shaping his legs sharply.
He was no ordinary omega.
The word “omega” itself sounded like “oh my god,” something that made people marvel—and Cen Xie embodied that.
He had never had that kind of damp, yearning submissiveness typical of ordinary omegas. It was a kind of raw, primal human beauty. Arrogant and dangerous as he was, alphas still flocked to him like moths to a flame.
In the East District, there wasn’t a single alpha who didn’t want to mark Cen Xie. Aside from his overwhelming strength, his striking beauty alone was enough to ignite uncontrollable possessiveness.
An S-class omega had almost no weaknesses except during their heat. And the higher the rank, the more intense the heat. Cen Xie didn’t struggle against his physiology in that way—he would also pick an alpha he found pleasing to accompany him through it.
But even then, he still used suppressants, refusing to completely lose control, and never allowing the other party to mark him.
Even during sex, he kept a gun in his hand. At his most disoriented, he would never allow a position that exposed the back of his neck, absolutely refusing to give the other person a chance. The moment anyone showed the slightest intention of marking him, a cold gun barrel would press against their forehead.
No alpha dared to gamble against his vigilance in moments like that—because he had truly shot an alpha dead in bed before. It was said that when that alpha was shot in the head, he was still inside Cen Xie.
This blood-tinged, scandalous story shocked all the alphas out of their fantasies. His ruthlessness instilled fear. From then on, no one dared to dream of conquering him—they could only quietly wait for his favor.
Cen Xie held a peach in his hand. In this postwar reconstruction era, fresh fruit was as expensive as gold.
At the entrance of the chairman’s building stood a child who had wandered over to play, sucking on their fingers and staring longingly at the peach in his hand.
Cen Xie noticed and casually tossed the soft, pink peach into the child’s arms. Then he strode into the building and said to Chen Jiu, “Bring those two in. I want to question them.”
Inside, Cen Xie sat down in the hall, then looked them over and asked, “Why were you looking for Chen Jiu?”
The two exchanged a glance and answered, “We wanted to borrow some money from Jiu-ge, then leave right away. We won’t cause trouble for you, Chairman.”
Cen Xie smiled coolly. “You already caused enough trouble years ago—home invasion, murder.”
Their faces turned pale, and they fell silent.
Cen Xie crossed his legs, leaned back, and asked casually, “Where are you planning to go after getting the money?”
They looked at each other again, not daring to answer.
Cen Xie picked up a small, gleaming dagger from the table and toyed with it. “Hm?”
“We’re planning to… join the Free Army.”
Cen Xie’s fingers paused slightly. He narrowed his eyes. “The Free Army?”
Realizing this was a sign of anger, the two immediately dropped to their knees.
Cen Xie watched them silently for a moment, then raised his hand. Chen Jiu stepped forward and tied their hands together.
One of them asked uneasily, “Chairman… are you going to send us back?”
Cen Xie shook his head. “You finally escaped. No need to go back.”
His tone was gentle, but it carried an eerie chill.
Two metal rings descended from above. Chen Jiu hooked them onto the prisoners’ bound hands. Then he pressed a mechanism on the wall—after a series of loud clicks, the floor split apart and slid to both sides, revealing shimmering water below.
Cen Xie sat leisurely, resting his cheek on his hand, watching the two suspended in midair.
“I’ll ask the questions. You answer.”
…….
Ying Zhu sat in the car, looking at the chairman’s building through the window. The exterior looked clean, nothing particularly sinister about it. There was even a child playing outside, digging in the flowerbed and burying a clean-sucked peach pit.
He pushed open the car door. As soon as he stepped out, a beta man in his thirties came out to greet him. “Hello, Officer. I’m Chen Jiu. Our chairman invites you inside.”
Ying Zhu glanced at the armed vehicles behind him and entered the building alone.
When Chen Jiu led him into the reception room, Cen Xie was lounging on the sofa, idly playing with his fingers under the light. At the sound of movement, he glanced sideways and saw the omega behind Chen Jiu.
Their eyes met, and both paused for a brief moment, for reasons neither could explain.
Cen Xie recovered first, sat up, and greeted him, “Officer Ying, please sit.”
The reception room was lavish—crystal chandeliers, hardwood floors, thick plush carpets. The furnishings were either leather or velvet, extravagantly luxurious.
But Ying Zhu had no interest in admiring it. His gaze shifted slightly and landed on the two dripping corpses on the floor.
3348 and 3349.
They had only been free for two hours before dying. One could only wonder what they thought in their final moments—whether they regretted escaping at all.
After listening to Cen Xie’s explanation, Ying Zhu remained silent for a long time before speaking. “Chairman Cen, you’re saying you kindly persuaded them to turn themselves in, but they refused, tried to run, tripped over a passing dog, fell into the river, and drowned?”
Cen Xie nodded seriously.
“Any witnesses?”
“Of course.” He gestured outside. “Everyone in the East District can testify for me.”
Ying Zhu frowned at the absurd story full of holes.
Cen Xie, on the other hand, watched him with interest, as if observing something new.
His understanding of Ying Zhu was minimal, mostly hearsay. But that brief glance they’d exchanged years ago outside the Twin Towers building had left a deep impression—his arrogance, his cleanliness, his beauty. Like someone standing above the clouds.
Now that same person had stepped down and appeared before him. He began to wonder how he should play this.
They sat close enough that Cen Xie could see the faint shimmer of light on Ying Zhu’s eyelids.
He looked away, chuckled softly, and poured him tea.
Ying Zhu didn’t touch it. The tea overflowed slightly as Cen Xie poured, and he simply set the teapot down again.
“Two B-class alphas wouldn’t bring Officer Ying to my doorstep in the middle of the night,” Cen Xie said lightly.
Ying Zhu didn’t respond.
Cen Xie was sharp.
The two escapees themselves weren’t important. The real issue was that they had managed to escape at all—it meant there was a flaw in the prison system.
On the way here, his secretary had received reports: the prison had been thoroughly inspected, and still no one knew how they escaped.
Cen Xie studied him for a moment, then said considerately, “The artificial hippocampus has a self-destruct program. Once a person dies, all stored memory data is wiped. The secret of their escape won’t leak. Officer Ying, you can sleep well tonight, can’t you?”
Ying Zhu remained silent. The matter had reached its conclusion—there was no point staying. He glanced once more at the bodies and stood. “I’ll take the corpses.”
Cen Xie stood as well. “I’ll have someone pack them for you.”
Ying Zhu frowned at him again, speechless, then turned to leave.
Before he reached the door, Cen Xie spoke again behind him, tone light. “But before they drowned, we had a little chat.”
Ying Zhu stopped and slowly turned around.
Cen Xie looked at him with a relaxed smile, saying nothing.
After a long silence, Ying Zhu finally spoke. “What do you want?”
The smile on Cen Xie’s face faded, revealing a sharp, unmistakable ambition.
“To blackmail you.”
Under the starry sky of the East District, even as Ying Zhu walked out of the building, Cen Xie’s words echoed in his ears:
“If you refuse me today, tomorrow I’ll start sending people into Usher Prison. Once news of the system flaw leaks, I believe the prison will be empty within three days.”
Ying Zhu was so angry his hands trembled. The instigator, meanwhile, smiled warmly and personally saw him out.
Once outside, Ying Zhu didn’t look at him again and got into the car with a dark expression.
Even inside the car, his anger hadn’t subsided. He looked out through the window.
Cen Xie stood with his back to him, speaking to someone, seemingly giving instructions. He stood tall, a cigarette between his fingers, the ember glowing in the night.
An alpha approached him, said something, then bent down. Their heads overlapped—probably kissing.
The car started moving, and Ying Zhu withdrew his gaze.
He realized something.
Cen Xie was the same as him—when kissing alphas, he never stood on tiptoe or tilted his head up. He made the other person lower themselves instead.