Geng Nuo could not find where the exit was from inside the room. After all, he had been unconscious when brought in. He figured that this place did not resemble the club, which was filled with people monitoring him, preventing him from leaving, and patrolled by security mechs. No one was paying attention to him, so why shouldn’t he just stroll around and find the estate’s exit right now?
To his surprise, he could not even make it out the door of this villa.
The moment he stepped into the entryway, two servants resembling artificial intelligence units informed him mechanically, “Please do not leave the residence for the time being.”
Geng Nuo asked, “Then when can I go out?”
The pair blinked in unison and chimed together, “Apologies, we have received no notification.”
Lifeless machines.
They were even worse than units with circuit panels at the back of their heads that he could tear apart.
Did they really think this could trap him?
Without changing expression, Geng Nuo walked over to the side, pushed open a window, and prepared to jump out right in front of them.
When God closes a door, His elderly self leaves you a window.
He thought to himself: If General Gu were here, he might be scared, but since he wasn’t, what was there to be afraid of? Running away before he returned meant there was nothing left to fear!
I really am a genius!
The first thing he did upon climbing onto the windowsill was toss his bag outside, but before he could steady his footing on the ledge, several figures suddenly materialized from some corner of the living room, grabbing Geng Nuo from the windowsill with a flurry of hands and feet to haul him back down.
He even watched with his own eyes as one person ran outside and locked the window from the outside.
No, are they mental?
Whose window gets locked from the outside?
Powerless to rage, Geng Nuo could only howl in place, “The bag! The bag! My bag!”
The person who went outside to lock the window showed a shred of kindness by picking up the bag and tossing it back to him.
Snatching the bag and clutching it tightly to his chest, Geng Nuo watched as the group retreated in silence once more, leaving only Geng Nuo and the two machine-god door guardians in the living room.
What should he do now?
Just as he stood there in a daze, a servant carrying a half-person-high stack of boxes wobbled past the living room. Geng Nuo watched for a moment before stepping in to help, sensing that if he didn’t lend a hand, the precarious stack of boxes would bury the person in the next second.
“Thank you…” After sharing half the load of boxes, Geng Nuo caught sight of the person’s face. He looked a few years older than him, with a face full of freckles and very pale skin.
The freckled face was thanking him just a second ago, but the moment he clearly saw Geng Nuo’s appearance, sheer terror overtook him. “No, no, no, you don’t need to help. Please give it back to me…”
Annoyed, this was Geng Nuo’s first time being treated like a ghost. “Do I look that terrifying? People always say I look better than Omegas. Why do you look so scared when you see me? Tell me, where are these being moved to?”
“Moved to, moved to the storage room.” The freckled worker answered involuntarily. Two seconds later, as realization dawned, Geng Nuo was already carrying a box and walking ahead.
Geng Nuo turned his head after a few steps. “Lead the way, then. I have no idea where the storage room is.”
Hurrying forward with a few quick steps to catch up, the freckled worker still wanted his box back, stuttering nervously, “Y-you are a guest! How can you let a guest do this kind of rough work? General Gu will be furious if he finds out.”
“What kind of guest am I?” Geng Nuo twitched the corner of his mouth. “I am merely a precarious prisoner facing imminent doom.”
Hearing this, the freckled worker shook his head frantically, his eyes glowing. “The day you arrived, General Gu carried you in personally and put you straight into the General’s master bedroom. You must know that usually, aside from the cleaning staff, even the steward isn’t permitted inside.” He was burning with curiosity to know the relationship between this person and General Gu.
“The doctor who came to examine you was from the palace, too—the kind who specifically treats His Majesty!”
Geng Nuo: “I am not sick.”
The freckled worker flustered, “Ah, I didn’t mean it that way!”
“It’s fine,” Geng Nuo muttered glumly. With a palace doctor summoned, perhaps he really was sick.
Ever since He Fei tipped him off about wanting to drug him, every memory of spending two and a half weeks at the club left Geng Nuo feeling deeply unsettled, as though even the air might be toxic.
Yet upon reflecting that he had spent most of his time eating and living with General Gu, breathing the same air, and exchanging quite a bit of saliva, if he truly had a disease, Gu Chengayan wouldn’t be able to escape either, hmph.
Clearly, Geng Nuo felt no reaction whatsoever to the first half of the freckled worker’s statement, leaving the worker somewhat disappointed. Though the steward had strictly forbidden them from discussing this person, everyone had gathered at the entrance to welcome General Gu that day for the sake of the steward’s sense of ritual, witnessing the entire process of the general carrying the blanket-wrapped youth back to his bedroom.
Over the past few days, they hadn’t stopped gossiping amongst themselves in private about this person’s identity, rumored not to be an Omega, but a Beta.
General Gu had never been this close to anyone before.
The freckled worker asked, “Are you a Beta?”
Geng Nuo nodded. “That’s right.”
“Then…”
Geng Nuo stared at him abruptly.
The freckled worker: “…?”
Geng Nuo: “Try saying I look like an Omega again.”
The freckled worker smoothly corrected himself: “Actually, I am a Beta too. All the servants here are.”
Geng Nuo turned his head away. “I know.”
He had figured it out long ago; there wasn’t a single sweet, soft Omega here.
Though come to think of it, compared to the venomous, backstabbing evil Omegas from the club, having none was far better.
The general’s estate was truly massive. Following the freckled worker through a maze of corridors, Geng Nuo finally helped carry the boxes to the storage room. Along the way, he learned that the freckled worker was named Xiujie, was 23 years old, and had been working here for a year.
Geng Nuo introduced himself as well. Being of similar age and both Betas, the two hit it off immediately.
Placing the boxes down in the storage room, Geng Nuo was quite exhausted, while Xiujie beside him looked ready to collapse. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Geng Nuo teased, “Your stamina is lacking.”
“It’s just that your stamina is too good.” Leaning against a box, Xiujie panted heavily, thinking to himself that as expected of someone favored by the general.
Having already troubled Geng Nuo to help carry boxes over, Xiujie wouldn’t dare let him pitch in for the subsequent tidying up. Letting Geng Nuo rest off to the side, Xiujie stacked the boxes into the storage room himself.
During the wait, Geng Nuo cast a peripheral glance and spotted a transport cart parked behind the door of the storage room.
He had seen such things at the Mad Shark Club—they looked like miniature trash cans, quite compact, yet akin to a Transformer, capable of extending a rake-like shovel within a few mechanical clicks. They were extremely convenient for transporting goods, could hold items inside, and could be pushed along or transformed to reveal wheels and pedals for a person to simply stand on top and steer.
Geng Nuo felt severely cheated. “No wait, since there is clearly a transport cart, why did you exhaust yourself carrying everything manually?”
Glancing over, Xiujie sighed. “It’s broken. For logistics-specific machinery like this, requesting repairs requires going through several procedures, and the steward investigates liability allocation, deducting pay from whoever is found at fault. Thus, whenever this happens, everyone prefers to tire themselves out instead.”
“Isn’t he a complete piece of work, then?” Geng Nuo indignantly protested. “We’re all working stiffs, why is he so keen on squeezing people dry?”
“No choice. Who told him to come from a fallen noble background?” Xiujie paused before adding, “And an Alpha at that.”
With that, he let out another long sigh. “Judging by the amount we just brought in, we’ll probably have to make a dozen more trips to finish moving everything. But you mustn’t help me this time; this is my job to begin with. You just woke up, you should rest more.” Failing to notice earlier, Xiujie now spotted the bandages wrapped around Geng Nuo’s hands and dared not let him touch heavy objects again.
Walking behind the door, Geng Nuo pulled the transport cart into the open space in the middle of the storage room, delivering two heavy smacks to it just like patting his family’s antique television set. The transport cart emitted a creaking protest under the harsh blows.
“Do you have a screwdriver?”
Unsure of what he was up to, Xiujie still handed over a set of tools from the storage room.
With swift, practiced motions, Geng Nuo dismantled the casing of the transport cart, inspected several components, fiddled around for a bit, and reassembled it exactly as it was.
Xiujie thought to himself: Could he have actually fixed it just like that?
His guess proved correct.
Once reassembled, Geng Nuo pressed the power button, and the transport cart underwent a Transformer-like transformation with special effects: its height extended upward, and the shovel extended outward.
“There. A component inside was just slightly aged from time, but it can still be used. We’ll swap out the part when we have a spare moment.” Geng Nuo patted the transport cart affectionately like an old partner; he held an inexplicable fondness for machinery old enough to be falling apart.
“Now you can use it to haul goods instead of making a dozen trips hauling things by hand.”
Xiujie was practically jumping with excitement.
“Goodness, Geng Nuo, are you a genius?”
Swishing his imaginary tail proudly while maintaining outward modesty, Geng Nuo replied, “Oh, these are very easy to fix. I’ve even repaired mechs before.”
“So amazing.” With admiration shining in his eyes, Xiujie couldn’t help lamenting, “If you were our colleague, we wouldn’t have to live in daily terror of the steward deducting our pay.”
Geng Nuo didn’t take his words to heart at the time. A short while later, after Xiujie finished organizing the items, he pushed the transport cart to continue moving cargo—mostly daily consumables for the estate, which arrived in massive quantities.
Walking along the path, Geng Nuo probed tentatively, “Tell me more about this place.”
For instance, whether there was a back door leading outside, or how far the estate gates were.
Yet Xiujie kept talking about trivial matters: how strict the steward was, how many rules he had established that everyone had to follow, how massive the estate was, and how numerous the servants were—though everyone stuck to their respective duties, and the daily workload wasn’t too heavy, except whenever the steward caught anyone idling, he would invent ways to pile on extra tasks.
He really is a piece of work, then, Geng Nuo thought.
“Does General Gu condone him squeezing you dry like this?” Geng Nuo wondered to himself, concluding that the general must be a bad guy too.
Xiujie shook his head. “General Gu is extremely busy. Sometimes he returns once every half-month, and other times he spends consecutive months stationed on other planets. He spends very little time at home and knows nothing of these trivial matters, nor would he have the bandwidth to care even if he did.”
Geng Nuo fell silent.
“Still, General Gu is actually quite nice. Before coming to work here, I also thought General Gu was some sort of terrifying fiend, and worried that hiring new servants meant the previous ones had died.” Xiujie covered his mouth in suppressed laughter. “Turns out, the other day someone followed the steward to deliver tea to the general, and accidentally knocked over an expensive vase when turning around. Manager Zhang’s eyes looked like they could spew fire at the time, but General Gu merely glanced at it indifferently and instructed to let the robots clean it up so nobody cut their hands.”
Surprise flickered in Geng Nuo’s eyes. The miserable sight of Yuan Bingqing being grabbed by the hair and smashed against the table remained fresh in his memory; though Yuan Bingqing had brought it upon himself by acting maliciously first, the psychological impact and trauma inflicted upon Geng Nuo could not be erased.
Xiujie continued, “Once the general spoke up, the steward had no way to say anything further, and the matter was simply dropped.”
Reaching the unloading area, Geng Nuo had initially expected to spot some sort of back door, only to be deeply disappointed. Piles of cargo were stacked in another relatively open clearing, and no matter which direction one looked, there was no sign of an exit route.
He couldn’t help testing the waters: “Where are these goods shipped in from? How come I don’t see a back door anywhere?”
Suspecting nothing, Xiujie informed him, “Freight vehicles all travel underground. On the surface of the estate, there are only routes for the general’s spacecraft, flying boats, and cars to drive and dock. All other vehicles must take the underground tunnels, and goods are shipped directly inside the villa via elevators.”
“Oh.”
Geng Nuo thought with discouragement: Yet another place that’s hard to escape from.
“What is it?” Xiujie seemed to notice his sudden drop in mood. Hastily brushing it off with a laugh, Geng Nuo asked casually, “How much do you guys make in a month here?”
“A lot!” Salary was a topic of immense pride for Xiujie, who cheerfully flashed an eight sign with his hand.
“Eight thousand Luke coins?”
Xiujie shook a finger. “Eighty thousand.”
Geng Nuo sucked in a breath. “Eighty thousand?!”
Eighty thousand Luke coins, nearly ten thousand Galactic Coins, equivalent to 1.5 treatment sessions for his father.
Such a massive sum of money, and completely safe without the precarious, day-to-day danger of the club, while keeping his virginity intact!
Hearing his own voice sounding as though it were floating on a cloud, Geng Nuo asked, “I remember you saying all the servants here are Betas?”
“That’s right.”
“…Are we still hiring?”
“Huh?” Xiujie thought about it. “I haven’t heard anything, but maybe they are. Although robots handle a lot of the chores, the places requiring human labor are still quite numerous.”
Grabbing Xiujie’s hand in a tight grip, Geng Nuo gazed sincerely into his eyes. “Xiujie, listen to me, I need your help!”
“Huh?”
“I want to work here! I need this job! Is there any way for me to become a servant here too? Interview? Resume? What procedures are required?”
Xiujie was dumbfounded, stammering, “W-what? But… but…” You were personally carried in by General Gu himself, how could you be a servant?
“This… the steward has to agree.”
“Tsk.” Geng Nuo recalled the look the steward had given him, thinking to himself that this made things a bit troublesome.
No matter, Geng Nuo was never one to be defeated by difficulties; he only forged ahead with courage!
He had figured everything out now.
Why had General Gu chosen him over anyone else at the Mad Shark initially?
Because Yuan Bingqing was a scheming little Omega, while he was an honest, kind-hearted, upright Beta man.
Gu Chengayan needed someone to provide cover for his play-acting, and since he was an honest, law-abiding innocent bystander, he was naturally the most suitable person to help the general maintain cover.
Sometimes, keeping up the act through real execution was necessary to avoid arousing Pixiu’s suspicion.
It was just his poor backside that had suffered.
Thinking along these lines, everything fell neatly into place.
Why had General Gu rescued him and nobody else?
He must have known he was a pitiful, innocent bystander scammed into the place. Through their interactions over these days, he had been moved by his sincerity and kindness, and discovered he was a hardworking, capable Beta! Which was why he had rescued him from the sea of flames.
Why did General Gu bring him home? What else could it be—he was a Beta! Just like the countless servants in the estate, they were all Betas!
Perhaps he also felt a sense of guilt toward him; being an Alpha, he had screwed a Beta like him, but that was all for the sake of play-acting. Now that the dust had settled, he was preparing to compensate him properly… he even knew he needed money!
Starting by offering him a good job.
He understood now; he understood everything!
Perhaps Gu Chengayan had also noticed that Manager Zhang wasn’t a particularly decent person—could it be he wanted to cultivate fresh blood to replace him?
Wouldn’t that be him?
Geng Nuo’s heart pounded wildly as a surge of fighting spirit filled his entire body.
If you’re going to do something, do it right—this was Geng Nuo’s creed in life!
Rest assured, General Gu, one day I shall replace Manager Zhang!
Geng Nuo asked Xiujie, “Are there any spare uniforms?”
“Ah… yes.”
Geng Nuo offered an excuse: “I haven’t been able to take a shower or change clothes during the days I was unconscious. Could you help me find a servant work uniform?”
From past experience, job hunting required casting aside one’s pride, especially for such a rare iron rice bowl. Sometimes brazen persistence was necessary. Slipping the uniform on first, Geng Nuo believed that so long as he was thick-skinned enough, he would surely manage to worm his way into a job here. Even if the steward wasn’t happy and refused to pay him wages, there was nothing to worry about—he still had General Gu.
So long as he showed General Gu his sincerity, getting him to work here and issue his wages on time would just be a matter of a single sentence!
Eighty thousand Luke coins—though it couldn’t compare to the dazzling twenty thousand Galactic Coins from the Mad Shark, it was at least genuinely attainable money without life-threatening danger. Though it also fell short of the 213 Galactic bank notes he had milked from General Gu over a mere two weeks, it meant not having to sell his ass!
How long had it been since he could sit comfortably in a chair without his waist aching or his backside throbbing…
Gu Chengayan had spent three days in the imperial palace without once closing his eyes. His Majesty Mo Er was ecstatic; with so many nobles dying off all at once, he was practically out of his mind with joy.
The major families were losing their minds as well. Thirty-seven noble figures had perished in the fire, comprising collateral branches, main lines, and even power-holders and heirs of newly-risen families. With such casualties, everywhere suffered severe vitality damage.
Their families and relatives frantically sought explanations, yet Pixiu, the boss of the Mad Shark Club, was already dead—suspected of perishing when his spacecraft took the brunt of an explosion during his escape, where flying glass shards possessed greater impact than bullets, directly piercing the fuel tank and causing it to blow up before takeoff. Meanwhile, Marquis Wright, the publicly known power-holder behind the scenes, was already dead, and Young Master Wright, the presumed successor from the Wright family, had also perished in the blaze.
The banquet had been hosted by Young Master Wright, and the attending nobles claimed outwardly it was to celebrate Young Master Wright taking over the Mad Shark, making no mention of General Gu’s presence.
This was also something the Emperor and the General found profoundly unusual during the cleanup.
They had originally anticipated expending considerable effort to erase Gu Chengayan’s presence from the incident, only to find the other party had cleaned up even more thoroughly than them, terrified lest any whisper of an alliance with Gu Chengayan leak out.
“Why would they do such a thing?” Mo Er was baffled.
“The sharpest blade must naturally be hidden in the dark, killing invisibly.” Gu Chengayan analyzed, “They courted my favor to incite me to betray you, Your Majesty. Making a massive public spectacle would only alert the prey, would it not?”
Mo Er stroked his chin. “That certainly makes things convenient for us.”
“Indeed.” Not a trace of fatigue showed on Gu Chengayan’s face as he leisurely stood up to pour himself a cup of tea. Holding the teacup against the windowsill, wisps of steam curled upward, softening the chilling smile at the corner of the General’s mouth considerably. “With no evidence left behind now, even if those aristocrats want to demand explanations, they can only crash about like headless flies. For us, however, this is an excellent opportunity.”
“Mhm.” Mo Er’s point of excitement stemmed precisely from this: many nobles held commercial capital, and the various groups they founded spanned a wide array of industries—after all, a large family had many mouths to feed, especially the parasites living off ancestral glory who peacefully accomplished nothing. Taking advantage of this opportunity to apply slight suppression, families lacking a backbone crumbled like river dikes hollowed out by ant nests. Not only that, but the Emperor intended to keep them down permanently.
Collateral branches couldn’t touch the foundation, so they applied subtle methods to alienate them from the main family. Such sprawling families looked lush on the surface, but everyone harbored their own agendas, making them remarkably easy to provoke.
As for those industries, they were quietly swallowed and annexed by the hidden forces commanded by Gu Chengayan and the Emperor.
Yet, several families remained untouched or unaffected.
For instance, the families of Wen Lan and Su Mang seemed to have no ties whatsoever to this affair.
With deep roots and towering branches, they could not be shaken overnight.
“The families involved have basically been investigated from top to bottom. Three newly rescued Omegas are all undergoing treatment. We also recovered sixty-two corpses and some severed limbs; autopsies proved not only that they were tortured to death, but also detected components consistent with the drugs produced in that bungalow factory of the Mad Shark.” Gu Chengayan took a sip of tea, examining the report listed on the screen. “Consistent with those found in living subjects, but not the kind we wanted to investigate.”
It could only turn Omegas into obedient puppets addicted to pleasure, lacking the power to bewitch Alphas and turn them into pawns.
“Why is there no trace at all?” Mo Er muttered to himself in contemplation before recalling something. “What about Pixiu? Has he confessed?”
Gu Chengayan frowned. “His current state is quite deranged. One moment he asks me: ‘Are you satisfied with this gift? I have others that will please you more!’ and the next he babbles nonsense I cannot understand, or else mutters ‘Paler God protect us’…”
“Paler God? I recall you telling me we found no Paler God statues at Marquis Wright’s Promethean estate. I even suspect this Paler God business was fabricated by them; no such deity exists in galactic history.”
Gu Chengayan lowered his head in thought. “I recall that in certain ancient languages, Paler God means ‘Creator’.”
Mo Er gave a derisive chuckle. “Then their ambitions are truly boundless.”
“What a waste of sparing Pixiu’s life.” Mo Er curled his lip. “What about those waiters Wei Hai found in the bungalow?”
“Utterly clueless, and one of them had drugs forced upon him.” At this mention, Gu Chengayan’s eyes darkened for a fraction of a second.
“Then send them to Luo Luo as test subjects; the development of an antidote requires their self-sacrifice.”
Gu Chengayan expressed indifference; if needed, he would have them sent over.
“Right, I heard you…” Mo Er asked with a complex expression, “Whom exactly did you have Wang Yi examine when you called him over the other day? I heard it was a Beta?”
Gu Chengayan drank his tea calmly. “It seems the palace doctor’s lips are not very tight either. Should His Majesty consider reflecting on whether he is failing to govern his subordinates properly?”
“Go to hell.” Mocked repeatedly by Gu Chengayan to the point where imperial authority was nearly pulverized into dust and scattered on the wind, Mo Er finally seized an opportunity, though entirely devoid of joking intent this time as he asked gravely, “Why keep such a dangerous person by your side? Aren’t you afraid he might actually find an opportunity to move against you?”
“Did you not say he is a dead man in your eyes? Why change your mind?” Mo Er pressed relentlessly. “Do you truly intend to take responsibility for him?”
With his long legs crossed and his well-articulated fingers forming a triangle, Gu Chengayan looked at Mo Er with elegant composure. “It is like this, Your Majesty.”
Mo Er tilted his head, raising an eyebrow as he awaited an explanation.
“In light of Your Majesty’s cautionary tale, I feel that acting as a scumbag Alpha might invite karmic retribution,” Gu Chengayan delivered a venomous barb. “After all, doing such a despicable thing as hanging white funeral sails on your wife’s beloved mech-ship to borrow it as a hearse is not something an ordinary person could pull off. Now the entire empire has seen Her Majesty the Empress’s beloved cruising the skies while broadcasting obituaries of Mad Shark’s high-society elites.”
“Crap, the Empress’s beloved is naturally me. I already told you, that mech’s fuel tank accidentally got filled with cola earlier, and I didn’t dare let Luo Luo pilot it right after cleaning and refueling. Didn’t it need to burn through a full tank to ensure the fuel system was completely safe before letting him use it? It just so happened we needed a mech equipped with massive loudspeakers to loop broadcasts across the skies of the Imperial Capital to cause grief for the nobles—those corporate stock prices plunging into the green were entirely thanks to his mech.” Mo Er spun tall tales, though his primary objective was actually stopping Xi Luo from heading to the frontline.
“So?” Mo Er refused to be brushed off by Gu Chengayan’s evasion. “You used me as an excuse, so you decided to take responsibility for him?”
“How could that be.” Gu Chengayan chuckled in a low voice, flatly denying it. “I thought it over: since we want to unearth this mastermind, if he truly intends to make a move against me, is not the best approach to keep him directly by my side? That way, I can monitor his movements at all times while letting him and the forces behind him lower their guard.”
“This is quite literally a brilliant strategy yielding multiple gains at once.”
Mo Er sneered, “The great General Gu is willing to risk his own skin, I truly ought to commend you.”
“Flattery, flattery.” Gu Chengayan smiled with supreme flippancy.
Though the smile did not reach the depths of his eyes.
“Rest assured, Your Majesty.” Though still smiling, a cold, piercing light flashed within his fathomless pupils, deep and inscrutable. “Should he display any anomalies, I will deal with him at the earliest opportunity.”
Rolling his eyes and growing too lazy to converse further with Gu Chengayan, Mo Er waved a hand dismissively. “If you are dead on your feet from exhaustion, go back and rest. Your words are making zero sense.”
The two of them had been running on zero sleep for three days straight. Though some loose ends remained unhandled, they could afford to slow their pace appropriately.
Yet, holding his teacup unyieldingly, Gu Chengayan replied, “When I am on the battlefield, going a week without sleep has zero impact on me…”
Right on cue, Wei Lu knocked and entered to deliver materials retrieved from home. Gu Chengayan took them, summarized them alongside other documents to issue fresh instructions, and dismissed Wei Lu to carry them out.
“Yes.” Right before leaving, recalling something, Wei Lu reported to Gu Chengayan, “General, Geng Nuo has woken up.”
Mo Er looked toward Gu Chengayan, whose expression remained entirely normal, betraying not the slightest ripple of emotion as he simply nodded and uttered a brief, “Understood.”
After Wei Lu departed, Gu Chengayan drained the remaining tea in his cup, set the teacup down casually on the windowsill, stood up straight, and picked up where he left off: “…But since there is nothing urgent left, I suppose I should head back to rest for the night.”
With that, he strode outward.
“Put on all the acts you want, damn you.” Mo Er cursed at his back.