To suppress the instincts attempting to dominate him, Ning Qing kicked off his plush slippers, curled up on the chair with his hands hugging his knees, and stuffed a large handful of inhibitor gummies into his mouth.
The armchair was Baroque style, featuring a velvet upholstered backrest. Ning Qing sank completely into the soft cushions, doing so gave him a slight sense of security and made it easier to think.
He had already learned how to coexist with lust.
Like a goldfish blowing bubbles, Ning Qing uttered a long string of words intermittently. “It’s a hundred times stronger than today’s wine, like the scent of oak wood that’s been smoked over a dense fire for a long time. It seems… to be coming from behind me.”
“It’s my pheromones, Senior,” Cyril answered him from the other side.
They were communicating through a heavy door panel, making their voices sound muffled. It took two or three echoes in the room before Ning Qing fully registered what was said.
What he smelled were an Alpha’s pheromones.
Had his gland developed further after being stimulated by external factors?
A terrifying suspicion suddenly wedged itself into Ning Qing’s mind. Once the seed of doubt was planted, it took root and sprouted immediately. Thinking carefully, this deduction was immensely logical.
After his diagnosis, he had practically chugged inhibitors like water. At such massive doses, it was highly probable he would develop drug resistance, though, logically speaking, the side effects shouldn’t have arrived so quickly.
Unless he had been subjected to ultra high intensity stimulation.
Back at the harbor street where stowaways gathered, the underground black market doctor who had practiced medicine for years once told him the bodily indicators for maintaining his physiological state:
“What counts as ultra-high intensity? It means as long as you don’t have more than ten Alphas taking turns soaking in your reproductive cavity, you’ll be perfectly fine.”
The wording was crude, but that doctor’s medical skills were a legendary staple in the Lower City, with red banner awards filling his entire clinic. The lingering sequelae left from Ning Qing overexerting his mental strength in the past had been nursed back to health by him, and at a discount, too.
However, amidst the persistent mild fever, Ning Qing recalled a few more details about how he had discovered his secondary differentiation back then.
It was when he suddenly passed out during an acupuncture session at the black clinic. Tracing further back, it started with a sharp headache caused by excessive mental energy usage, accompanied by sweating and exhaustion. Even after resting in his dorm room for an entire afternoon, the symptoms only grew worse.
That day, Cyril had been there the whole time, greeting him with a smile and asking him softly why his face was so pale.
Ning Qing was certain he had absolutely not secreted any Omega pheromones.
But Cyril, could he really not have picked up on any clues from his abnormality?
Ordinary stimulation wouldn’t pose much danger, but what if… the other party was a top-tier Alpha in terms of genetics, and their compatibility was exceptionally high?
Compatibility, this word, mentioned casually by the Marshal’s wife, passed through Ning Qing’s entire body like an electric shock. Cyril had also mentioned that he “rejected eight matching applications.” Ning Qing used to think matching was merely a system function that filtered eligible, unmarried young Alphas and Omegas together, like a school district lottery.
Now, however, it seemed that compatibility might be tied to numerous physiological metrics, intercourse, reproduction, and attraction.
So the inhibitors were useless. No matter how much he ate, it wouldn’t work. Ning Qing felt his body temperature, which refused to drop no matter what.
Yet, the door quietly opened.
It wasn’t the door Ning Qing had blocked, but a rotating secret door behind the wardrobe. It was hard to say if the designer had ever envisioned that this mechanism wouldn’t be used for an escape, but rather to catch someone.
Cyril pressed his hands together in apology. “Senior ignored me for too long, so I took the liberty of coming in. I hope you won’t be angry.”
Ning Qing’s immediate reaction was to leave this place. He wanted to return to the black clinic, whether it took a double strength concentrated inhibitor or a gland removal surgery, he had to sever any possibility of being controlled by someone else, no matter the cost.
Yet, he had never realized how difficult a mere three story spiral staircase could be to walk down. His calves were painfully weak, and stars spots flashed before his eyes.
Worse still was the dehydration.
The white gauze gown was soaked through with sweat, clinging wetly against his chest. In fact, his trousers weren’t dry anywhere either, making walking agonizingly uncomfortable.
Then, the moment before he misstepped into empty air, his world spun, and he was caught by a broad chest.
Ning Qing gasped rapidly. “Cyril, let me go.”
Cyril, however, picked him up by the waist, nagging as he walked.
“It’s not the first time. I know, Senior, you’re just going through a pseudo heat right now, the illicit drug Benson used had far too many additives. The side effects are so severe that it’s still relapsing after half a month.”
There was no spray that took so long to metabolize. Ning Qing knew perfectly well this was merely a clumsy excuse, meant to give him an out or to preserve the delicate barrier between them that was on the verge of being shattered.
The secondary differentiation of the genius Beta chief into an Omega, if word got out, it would undoubtedly ruin Ning Qing’s future, dooming him beyond redemption.
Ning Qing simply couldn’t accept such a future. He could only force himself to say to Cyril. “Don’t… get close to me. Call an aircraft right now to send me to Harbor Street in the Lower City, it’s still not too late.”
It only drew a soft laugh in response.
Cyril brushed aside his bangs. “Stop forcing yourself, Senior. Do you know what you look like right now?”
Ning Qing was placed onto a large bed layered with soft feather duvets. Directly facing the tips of his feet was a floor length mirror.
“You’re sweating so much that your clothes are completely drenched. Although you’re a Beta with no pheromones, Senior, in a chaotic place like the Lower City, I can’t feel at ease letting you go there alone.”
“What if, after stepping off the aircraft, you get trailed and picked up by some thugs? What if it’s a whole group of them, ugly, wearing tattered, filthy clothes? People in the Lower City like you so much, and if they take videos and photos…”
In truth, Ning Qing knew several acquaintances in the Lower City. If he weren’t currently soaked in Cyril’s pheromones, he wouldn’t be reduced to a state where he couldn’t even overpower untrained civilians.
However, hearing such wild and vulgar fantasies, Ning Qing’s body still honestly reacted.
“Stop talking.”
Ning Qing kept shaking his head, his silk like black hair flowing across the pillow.
Cyril finally revealed his true intentions. “Don’t be afraid. You just need a temporary mark, that’s all. It will be over very soon.”
Thin wisps of dark clouds obscured the artificial moon, trapping the pure, flawless moonlight. The whistling sound of the wind blowing across the earth sounded like its soft sobbing.
It hurts so much.
Even though it was the second time being marked, why was there a tearing agony, as if his nerves were being pulled out from the inside?
In that moment, the pain overshadowed the weakness that made him helpless to resist. Ning Qing instantly pushed away Cyril, who was clinging to him and biting his neck. Cyril, a burly Alpha, stumbled back onto the nightstand, knocking the enamel vase on top straight onto the floor, shattering it into pieces with a loud crash.
Green rose petals scattered across the ground.
Only Ning Qing stood straight before him, holding a shard of the vase as if gripping a sniper rifle. “Did you hear me clearly? I don’t need you telling me what to do.”
Cyril fell quiet. For the rest of the night, he obediently cleaned up the mess, poured tea, served water, and contacted an aircraft.
He was thick skinned and hadn’t bled at all. In contrast, Ning Qing, whose body was already weak, had the last of his energy drained by that counterattack. Before long, he developed a high fever, failing to meet the safety requirements for operating an aircraft alone.
Ning Qing was extremely dissatisfied. “Cyril, don’t pull this trick on me. I can defend a planet invaded by the Zerg while piloting a mecha completely by myself, it’s just a civilian aircraft, why wouldn’t I be able to fly it?”
Cyril replied. “This… isn’t me trying to make things difficult for you. It’s locked straight into the factory settings. If you don’t believe me, Senior, sit inside and see for yourself.”
Three seconds after Ning Qing pulled down the control lever, the aircraft began to beep frantically.
“Warning! Warning!”
“Pilot’s body temperature is dangerously high, heart rate is excessively fast, mental energy is highly unstable, and alcohol concentration in breath is too high. The smart driving system reminds you, don’t drive after drinking, and don’t drink before driving.”
“Friendly reminder, engaging in sexual behavior on an operating aircraft has been listed as an illegal offense on the Capital Planet. Upon discovery, violators will have their aircraft pilot licenses revoked…”
What kind of ridiculous warnings were these? Who on earth would do that kind of thing on an aircraft?
Ning Qing was rendered speechless. He had no choice but to pressure Cyril into moving him to a remote room. After taking a quick shower, he succumbed to his heavy anger and drifted off into a groggy sleep.
On the other side, Cyril or rather, Lyle was utterly frustrated.
Damn it, aren’t he and his brother twins? Why is there still a rejection reaction for a repeated mark?!