“Then it is a settled deal. See you in three days, General Gu.” Pixiu respectfully escorted Gu Chengayan out, finally straightening his waist after all these days of obsequious bowing. Returning to his office, he propped his legs up on the desk in a leisurely posture. He Fei pushed open the door and attentively poured him a glass of red wine.
Pixiu held the stem of the goblet between two fingers, swirling it left and right while sniffing the rim, closing his eyes to savor the power-hungry scent far beyond the wine itself that the high-end vintage brought him.
“Congratulations, Boss. Everything is proceeding according to plan.”
Pixiu closed his eyes, let out a hum, and instructed, “Get that Beta ready.”
He let out a light snort. “Who would have thought that brat would still have some use, though he is ultimately no match for an Omega. What a shame—all our preparations did not even come into play. This time, no matter what, we have to show General Gu just how profitable a business cooperation with us really is.”
“Since ancient times, heroes have a hard time passing the trial of beauty. Look, Alphas are simply that kind of creature: slaves to their emotions, and even an imperial general is no exception. Just wait and see—once he lays eyes on a thoroughly developed Geng Nuo, he will completely plunge headfirst and lose himself.”
He Fei flattered him repeatedly before hesitating and asking with some worry, “Still, if we let General Gu meddle in our business like this, will it not…”
Anyone would be wary of General Gu’s formidable power and influence—even His Majesty the Emperor could not escape it. Pulling him into the partnership now, would they not be raising a tiger that might eventually turn on them?
“What is there to be worried about?” Pixiu lifted his eyelids to shoot him a disdainful look, thoroughly disgusted by his overcautiousness and complete lack of potential for achieving great things. “General Gu is merely another Marquis Wright. If he cooperates honestly, he gets to taste the sheer exhilaration of reaching the peak of power and stuffing his pockets with gold. If he does not play nice, he will simply be the next President Feng.”
President Feng was precisely the newly nominated president of the Peisman Empire’s Central Bank who had recently been ruined over an Omega, losing all his reputation… counting the time, he was probably dead by now.
“No matter who the Mad Shark’s partners turn out to be, do not these noble high officials still end up working for me? Heh heh…” The feeling of having everything under control was simply too wonderful. In Pixiu’s view, his disguise was exquisite—so long as he pretended to be obediently subservient to these high-ranking Alphas and constantly catered to their preferences, he could make them work for his own ends.
Now that he had successfully pulled General Gu into the partnership, the Mad Shark Club’s sluggish revenue over the past half-month would soon recover to its peak. He believed that once Gu Chengayan tasted the sweetness, he would surely bring in even more distinguished guests for him.
—Different from those good-for-nothing hereditary nobles, these were industry elites and military upstarts.
“Leave that Beta to you. Do not you dare bungle such a small task,” Pixiu instructed.
He Fei hastily smiled fawningly. “Rest assured, Boss.”
The Peisman Empire’s Imperial Palace.
Wei Hai accompanied General Gu Chengayan to an audience with His Majesty Mo Er.
Gu Chengayan nodded at the Lord Chamberlain, who was dressed in a white robe. “Lord Zhou, I am here to see His Majesty.”
Bowing, Lord Zhou replied, “General Gu, His Majesty is waiting for you in the Hall of State Affairs.”
Just as they set off, hushed whispers drifted over from the other side of a nearby shrubbery.
One voice said, “What? Catching an adulterer? Her Majesty the Empress finally could not help himself and went to catch an adulterer?”
Another voice hurriedly explained, “No, no, it is His Majesty the Emperor who is catching the adulterer!”
“I just heard that His Majesty secretly took in a flower concubine. How did it turn into the Empress cheating?”
“Yeah, yeah! Word is he caught them red-handed in the bedroom early this morning, and they have been making a ruckus all morning!”
Neither Gu Chengayan nor Wei Hai paid it any mind. To their surprise, Lord Zhou’s expression shifted upon hearing this, leaning in slightly to murmur in a low voice, “Forgive this humble servant for letting Your Excellency witness a farce.” With that, he quickened his pace to walk past the shrubbery, revealing himself. The two young palace attendants were instantly frightened out of their wits, trembling all over and tripping over their tongues.
“Lo—Lord Zhou…”
Ignoring their defense and pleas for mercy, Lord Zhou immediately ordered the gossiping attendants to be dragged away for severe punishment.
Wei Hai raised an eyebrow, voicing a curious doubt without any objection to Lord Zhou’s iron-fisted efficiency: “Is it really necessary to be this harsh?”
Lord Zhou wore a solemn expression.
Realizing the implication, Wei Hai wore an astonished look.
This time, it actually was not arranged beforehand.
Countless rumors concerning the Emperor and Empress circulated throughout the palace. Whether it was deep affection, mutual disgust, or the Empress acting spoiled and interfering with imperial decisions, these were basically pre-planned, mutually beneficial plots after the two reached a tacit agreement. But this massive rumor about catching an adulterer, logically speaking, ought to have been part of the plan as well.
After all, with such a huge commotion—the Emperor taking a concubine and catching the Empress cheating—no matter how one looked at it, it was all a crazy hype campaign designed to cover up some real objective.
Yet this attitude of sealing their lips…
Gu Chengayan asked, “Did something go wrong with the plan?”
Lord Zhou sighed. “It is not that something went wrong with the plan; this matter was not in the plan at all.”
“What do you mean?”
Lord Zhou briefly explained, “Your Majesty Xi Luo’s childhood friend, Master Cohen, has returned, and the two have been having some private interactions these past few days…”
There was no need to spell out the rest; Gu Chengayan already understood the situation in his heart.
The imperial couple were throwing a mutual temper tantrum. Xi Luo refused to let Mo Er back into the bedroom, and Mo Er refused to let Xi Luo out of the bedroom, leaving the two locked in a stubborn tug-of-war. Most likely, Xi Luo had received the legendary childhood sweetheart inside the bedroom, causing the emperor’s jealous streak to explode, throwing a public tantrum regardless of the occasion. It was poor Lord Zhou who had to run around frantically wiping away the evidence.
This was the so-called catching an adulterer.
As they spoke, the group had already arrived at the front courtyard of the Hall of State Affairs.
“Did not His Majesty just take in a new concubine? Why not use this opportunity to bring out the new concubine to stir things up?” Gu Chengayan’s eyes held a glint of amusement.
“How could one possibly show him to anyone?” Lord Zhou shook his head helplessly, raising a hand to point toward the side. “The newly promoted Flower Concubine is right over there.”
Following the direction of his finger, a large tabby-striped cat was lazily licking its nether regions under the sun in a posture thoroughly ungraceful and entirely lacking in the self-awareness of an imperial concubine.
Lord Zhou looked as though he could not bear to watch.
Wei Hai unceremoniously confirmed, “It is a male.”
Animals had no ABO differentiation, only male and female. Analogously, this concubine and His Majesty shared the exact same sex.
“It does not matter.” Lord Zhou’s voice was heavy with the weariness of accepting reality. “His Majesty has already bestowed upon it the Omega gender.”
Lacking any trace of sympathy, General Gu let out a laugh.
Reaching the second floor, the door to the Emperor’s office stood half-open, with Mo Er seated behind his desk processing documents. Gu Chengayan rapped his knuckles twice against the door.
“So, Your Esteemed Majesty, how are you holding up?”
No one answered him.
Mo Er always frowned while working, looking serious and proper—a far cry from the emperor throwing a tantrum outside the bedroom.
He had long since noticed General Gu’s visit out of the corner of his eye, but without looking up, he kept his full focus on the thick stack of documents on his desk.
Gu Chengayan did not mind being ignored in the slightest, stepping inside with Wei Hai in tow. Today he was dressed in a crisp military uniform, the empire’s wing insignia symbolizing supreme glory glittering on his chest as he swaggered over to sit down opposite His Majesty Mo Er, crossing his legs lazily and radiating a wicked, rakish aura. Wei Hai stood respectfully behind him.
“Do not bring your street-hoodlum habits into the Imperial Palace.” Mo Er finally found it impossible to ignore Gu Chengayan’s presence, snapping past his breaking point, “Do you have any idea that every time you enter the palace, those attendants come over to peek at you and secretly mimic your behavior?”
“Is that so? I had no idea my public profile and popularity were so high.” Gu Chengayan lowered his legs. “Though right now, the palace attendants are probably fixated on the imperial couple’s freshly baked gossip.”
A hoarse cat meow rang out, and only then did Mo Er notice that General Gu had fished the Flower Concubine into his arms at some point.
“Audacious.” Mo Er’s eyelid twitched as he barely suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.
Gu Chengayan shrugged, adding fuel to the fire. “What a wonderful hand of cards. His Majesty Xi Luo was almost moved, but unfortunately his rival is a human, not a cat.”
Plucking the Flower Concubine by the scruff of its neck to hold it up to eye level, the cat’s sky-blue pupils dilated as it let out a dry meow, earning General Gu’s disgust before being tossed aside with a pat of the hands. He offered a word of counsel: “You cannot beat him. Just give up.”
None of your damn business! Mo Er finally remembered he still possessed imperial authority to shut Gu Chengayan up, savagely tossing a folder onto the desk and thrusting his chin out to say rigidly, “Enough. Let us talk about serious business.”
Gu Chengayan smiled faintly. “My thoughts exactly, Your Majesty.”
Wei Hai stepped forward to report to His Majesty the Emperor, causing Mo Er’s expression to turn gravely solemn.
“Meaning that on the surface, the Mad Shark Club is a pleasure palace providing entertainment and sexual release for the nobles, but behind the scenes, it engages in human trafficking.”
Wei Hai nodded. “To curry favor with General Gu, Pixiu has spilled everything, even handing over the account books. The Mad Shark’s biggest backstage trade is trafficking lonely, destitute Omegas to nobles for their enjoyment. They have a drug capable of controlling Omegas, arbitrarily training them into whatever shape they fancy. We deduce this drug is a new type of neuro-narcotic; Omegas who ingest it lose their self-awareness and obey their masters implicitly—they are puppets more advanced than artificial intelligence. As for their fate, whether they go mad or are tortured to death, they basically vanish into the nobles’ backyards.”
“What is the scale?”
Gu Chengayan stated, “Estimated at over a hundred people.”
Wei Hai added, “The identities of these Omegas have all been screened: they must be destitute and utterly friendless.” This also explained why the disappearance of over a hundred Omegas had not caused the slightest ripple throughout the empire.
Mo Er clenched both fists tightly, rage difficult to conceal. “We must admit that under the governance of the Peisman Empire, countless darknesses still persist. The empire’s citizens continue to suffer the torment of displacement, and Omegas living in such conditions even sink into cargo to be played with by others. These… these filthy nobles.” By the end, he was grinding his teeth.
“Save the high-sounding speeches for formal occasions; the public will cheer for you. But it will not work on these good-for-nothing parasites—on the contrary, causing pain to others largely brings them pleasure. Having the emperor of an empire at the peak of power experience such grief and indignation over this will probably make them even more excited than if they became emperor themselves.” The rumbling outside continued as a mechanical arm hoisted high and swung down heavily. Gu Chengayan stood up and walked toward the window; the ground surrounding the Hall of State Affairs was pockmarked with craters, resembling the dilapidated empire struggling through several millennia. “This sort of futile justice and righteous passion is not yet time to be displayed before them.”
Turning his head slightly, Gu Chengayan looked toward Mo Er, who had his back turned to him, the luxurious chair back obscuring most of his frame while his hands resting on the desk were clenched into white-knuckled fists.
“Pixiu has arranged a lavish banquet three days from now to welcome me into the partnership. Some old patrons will appear then. What do you plan to do?”
Lifting his head, Mo Er revealed a gaze resolute and merciless, cutting through high walls and thick ramparts like a sharp blade without a trace of wavering.
He said, “Kill them.”
Gu Chengayan curved his lips—right down his alley.
Leaning back against the windowsill, remembering something else, he flicked his chin to signal Wei Hai. “Tell him about the staff at the Mad Shark Club.”
Catching the hint, Wei Hai handed a document to the Emperor and reported, “Everyone from top to bottom at the Mad Shark Club is complicit in this human trafficking atrocity.”
Flipping through the records in the file, Mo Er frowned. “Go on.”
“Without exception, every single person working as a waiter at the Mad Shark must submit a badge of allegiance—that is, supplying goods for the club. Destitute, friendless Omegas are preferred as goods. Handing over a badge allows you to stay at the Mad Shark; failing to do so turns you into goods yourself. Pixiu uses performance quotas as bait to keep those who stay recruiting more goods.”
The performance quotas in the documents were horrifying, but according to Wei Hai, this was only the tip of the iceberg. With time pressing, they had not managed to acquire the complete ledger; moreover, as Pixiu had let slip, many things were never detailed in writing because, given the high-profile nobles involved, they naturally would not leave behind any evidence.
“We can copy all the data during the raid, but whatever has been thoroughly destroyed will likely be irrecoverable,” Wei Hai said.
Mo Er replied, “No matter.”
Gu Chengayan noted, “We can work backward from the distinguished guests who attend; they will always leave traces in their homes.”
Mo Er nodded. “If there are survivors, we must rescue them. If they truly perished unjustly at the hands of these scum, we cannot let them vanish from this world without a sound.”
Pondering for a moment, he recalled another matter. “How do you plan to deal with those club staff members?”
Gu Chengayan seemed somewhat surprised, countering with a question: “How else would we deal with them?”
Mo Er raised an eyebrow, his expression far more at ease than just a moment before, even finding the mood to joke. “Not leave a single living soul?”
“Is there any need?” Gu Chengayan glanced over indifferently.
Wei Hai looked back and forth; the Emperor and the General were speaking in riddles, yet he could roughly guess the object of their discussion.
That Beta server, Geng Nuo.
Out of personal bias, Wei Hai did not want him to die either. Regardless of anything else, this Beta who looked like an Omega had managed to make the General break his rules; keeping him around might prove useful, and killing him just like that would truly be a waste.
Yet since the General’s mind was made up, it was not open to debate.
Perhaps he was not the only one with such thoughts. His Majesty the Emperor had been present that day and had genuinely been startled by the General’s off-script playing a role. Shaking his head, Mo Er asked with keen interest, “What is he in your eyes?”
Thinking for a few seconds, Gu Chengayan shrugged, speaking with an indifference as if discussing a total stranger he had never met.
“A dead man.”