“Lord Reinhardt, please punish me…” A tremor of boundless terror exploded beside Reinhardt’s ear. The preceding second, his consciousness had still been suspended within the spacetime wormhole; upon abruptly catching the sound of human speech, it took him a long half-beat to process his surroundings.
The light stung his eyes, causing his eyelashes to flutter slightly as he leisurely lifted his eyelids to take in the environment he now occupied.
Exquisitely crafted interior furnishings, expansive floor-to-ceiling glass curtain walls, and a wide terrace offering a view of refined botanical landscape vistas lowering his gaze allowed him to look directly down upon the city’s sweeping skyline.
This was the Bailu Liquan Palace, the luxurious residence of Reinhardt Eletis, an aristocratic male of the Eletis family among the Zerg. Meanwhile, the female-caste attendant kneeling at his feet was clearly a newcomer, having inadvertently disturbed the master’s slumber while tending to the cleaning, and was now waiting in petrified terror for the male’s judgment.
Every Zerg was well aware of Reinhardt’s cruelty and caprice; the attendant had long since mentally prepared himself for torture, praying only that he wouldn’t be sold off to the hard labor camps on Lihui Star.
To his astonishment, Reinhardt merely turned his head slightly, fixed a steady, deep-blue gaze upon him for a moment, and then slowly uttered a single, chilling command to clear out.
At that moment, the Zerg had never experienced a word so profoundly reassuring. He rose and fled without leaving behind the faintest sound, terrified that the male might rescind his decree.
“Sometimes I genuinely feel as though I’m acting out the role of a madman.” Reinhardt massaged his temples, studying his current reflection in the glass curtain wall.
His blonde hair, swept back toward the temples, exposed a pale, unblemished forehead, while his peerlessly refined countenance was fractured by the dappled light and shadow cast from the crystal chandelier overhead, outlining clear-cut brow ridges and a high, straight nasal bridge. His thin lips were pressed into a neutral line that betrayed no emotion, and his outer eye corners sloping naturally downward only served to heighten his unapproachable, intimidating aura.
“When I first met you, weren’t you already this exact flavor of domineering dragon-protagonist?” 058 spun a circle to roast him. “So stop wasting time playing video games in the office; you better hurry up and check how badly the plot has imploded because of your last mission.”
“What’s wrong with playing video games…” Retorting while simultaneously pulling up the interstellar network to inspect the current state of affairs, Reinhardt was greeted at the very forefront of his vision by the day’s leading headline:
“Major General Lucifer Assassinated a Male Zerg and Was Sentenced to Imprisonment; the Former Imperial Rose Falls to the Status of a Convict.”
Sensing the male’s lingering gaze, the terminal automatically initiated playback for the video attached beneath the headline. A holographic projection materialized directly in midair, making it virtually impossible to ignore.
In the footage, the silver-haired female-caste officer had already shed his immaculate military uniform, heavily guarded as he was escorted onto a jump-space transport vessel. The full-back scars visible through his pristine white shirt were chillingly vivid, partially swallowed by cascading strands of long hair. Seemingly sensing the camera’s presence, the female lifted his head to face the lens; within his crimson pupils burned a bottomless, abyss-like malice, while a stark black tear mole hovered beneath his outer eye corner, resembling an intoxicating, bewitching tear shed from a demon’s eye.
Even blanketed in scars, with his bone-wings pierced clean through, he still curled the corners of his lips, gazing straight through the lens to smile soundlessly as he delivered a single sentence:
“Reinhardt, I am going to kill you.”
Blood-drenched yet dangerously alluring, identical to the rose ring he wore perpetually bound around the base of his left ring finger a genuine, bleeding flower of sin born amidst a thicket of thorns.
That ring looks remarkably familiar… Staring through the virtual projection to lock eyes with the female’s palpable, murderous intent, Reinhardt couldn’t help knitting his brows slightly.
Wasn’t he rather formidable in direct combat previously?
Pondering for a moment, Reinhardt abruptly posed a question to 058: “My previous avatar… in terms of world-plot logic, it’s supposed to be thoroughly dead, correct?”
058 emitted a confirmatory hum, asking with bewilderment: “Didn’t you execute him with your own hands? Don’t tell me you’re thinking of running away again! The plot has already imploded to this degree; you better obediently roleplay Reinhardt, safeguard your little life, and make a sincere attempt to conquer Lucifer…”
As it trailed off, 058’s voice grew increasingly faint, evidently recognizing that Lucifer’s current psychological state hardly suggested a candidate open to romantic conquest at that very moment, the female was likely scheming how to butcher his esteemed master, male-lord Reinhardt Eletis.
For committing the heinous capital crime of assassinating a male Zerg and betraying his master, Lucifer was granted zero leniency despite his illustrious military record.
The penal colony designated for his exile was the Ash-Rock Prison on Lihui Star, a destination harbouring countless vicious, depraved female-caste criminals. This planet possessed neither civilization nor laws; everything operated on a primitive level saturated with the raw lust for slaughter.
The inmates survived through mutual attrition and grueling forced labor, culminating in either a brutal death inflicted by a stronger predator or expiration during a frenzied pheromone riot.
In short, upon setting foot upon that soil, a single destination awaited death. Naturally, depending on one’s combat caliber, the distinction lay solely between dying ignominiously or with a shred of dignity.
The supreme sovereign of this sin-soaked world was the current head of the Eletis family, one of the five ruling male-caste aristocratic houses of the Empire: Reinhardt Eletis. Should he so desire, this living hell could readily be rendered infinitely more horrifying.
“Naturally, I intend to play my part admirably,” Reinhardt remarked with an enigmatic smile. “Since Lucifer has issued such an explicit challenge to me, how could I possibly let him down?”
“Naturally, I’ll grant his wish and hand him an opportunity to murder me.”
“…Get a grip, Host!” Panic genuinely spiked within 058 this time; playful banter aside, this was hardly a laughing matter. Lucifer’s combat efficacy was so preposterously high that he possessed the capacity to slaughter a heavily guarded aristocratic male with his bare hands even while suppressed by Reinhardt’s restrictive neck-collar constraint in a pre-secondary molting state. He was hardly some stray, harmless puppy barking at you on the street!!
Fixing an amused gaze upon 058, Reinhardt arched an eyebrow. “Who told you I intended to waltz in directly like that? Since my previous avatar has already checked out, it’s the ideal moment to roll out a brand-new one, sparing me the hassle of artificial disguise.”
Sweeping his slicked-back blonde hair forward to obscure his brows and eyes, he extracted his favorite pair of thick black-framed spectacles from the system inventory; paired with a bulky, ill-fitting coat, he instantly transitioned from an icy, refined aristocratic male into a gloomy, sheltered male university student who had yet to experience the brutal crushing reality of society.
“To ensure absolute foolproof insurance, I’ll even pop in a pair of colored contact lenses. That way, I can trigger a nostalgic recognition bonus with Lucifer. His rampant paranoia will practically force him to investigate why this new face bears such an uncanny resemblance to my old one.”
Snapping his fingers, Reinhardt pointed an index finger outward at 058 in an imaginary salute. “Bear in mind: centuries of slacking off across the Time Administration have left me a seasoned master of every gaming genre on the books. Mere romance-conquest sims? Absolute child’s play.”
His bravado was entirely unassailable… 058 flapped its digital wings, though the nagging reality remained: this wasn’t a standard GalGame, but an astronomically high-difficulty crossover nightmare combining resource grinding, rogue mech combat, and geopolitical maneuvering!!
However… Despite Reinhardt’s chronic loafing and aversion to honest labor, when he actually chose to apply himself, he proved surprisingly dependable. Mulling it over, 058 ultimately elected to place its faith in its host.
This was a planet abandoned by the universe. Viewed downward from orbit, it revealed merely a patchwork expanse of rusted crimson, drifting outside the stream of time, silent as stagnant water.
Today, however, that stagnant pool finally rippled. An imperial decree shattered the tranquil surface the planetary sovereign in the flesh, Reinhardt Eletis, was scheduled to make a personal inspection visit.
An exalted, supremely cruel male Zerg one could readily visualize the nature of his errand.
Gray stone constituted the predominant palette of Ash-Rock Prison, anchored by the towering Ash-Tower piercing the sky at its center. All prisoners were incarcerated within its depths, perishing along an endless, unreachable spiral staircase of perpetual ascent.
Yet a solitary speck of striking contrast clung to the desolate spire; a wind reeking of fresh blood blew in from the distant wasteland, lofting Lucifer’s silver-white hair high into the air like a fluttering battle banner. The surrounding convict-females silently observed his cold, detached visage he remained fundamentally out of place in this environment.
Lucifer could legitimately lay claim to being the Empire’s youngest, most distinguished military female; his list of combat decorations was so exhaustive it defied erasure from official historical ledgers. The military rank-and-file revered him as the Imperial Rose, while the battlefields witnessed his crimson, blood-soaked eyes operating with the lethal efficiency of a god of war. Born to nobility within the ancient Zesia bloodline, his master though radiating the characteristic arrogance inherent to all male Zerg held genuine political voice within the imperial court. To achieve such dizzying heights as a female Zerg and retain a status untouched by envy was a feat matched by few.
Yet he had actively chosen self-destruction, sinking to the utter folly of hunting down a male Zerg, and openly declaring his intent to execute his own master. Even upon transfer to Ash-Rock, he refused to sheathe his razor-sharp edges.
The military guards stationed to garrison Ash-Rock Prison were all veterans of active service; harboring deep-seated respect for Lucifer’s past military prestige, they invariably chose to turn a blind eye to his insubordination, even following his disgrace and imprisonment.
No Zerg possessed insight into his internal calculations, nor could any fathom the tribulations he had endured. A solitary consensus had crystallized across the entirety of Ash-Rock Prison: Never provoke this madman.
Even weighed down by heavy manacles and suppressing shackles, he retained the effortless capacity to drag anyone straight down to hell.
He sat quietly atop the tower apex, gazing abstractedly at the ash-gray skies in the distance, extending a hand slightly to permit a pale sliver of sunlight to illuminate the rose ring resting upon his left ring finger.
To him, this remained the sole flower of genuine value.
As twilight descended, Reinhardt Eletis never materialized upon the planet. Every Zerg breathed a collective sigh of relief. The erratic whims of male Zerg were as erratic as the weather; from guards down to convicts, every single individual silently offered gratitude to Reinhardt for his eleventh-hour truancy.
Though the male had failed to arrive, incoming transfers of fresh prisoners proceeded on schedule. The garrison guards meticulously inspected the new batch of arrivals, verifying rosters name by name until their progress ground to a halt near the end of the line, prompting a frown.
“Hein Navia… conviction records classified as unknown?” Staring down at the silent, fair-haired blonde female standing before him, the guard took in the messy bangs obscuring his brow and eyes, compounded incongruously by a pair of thick black-framed spectacles. Within Zerg society, individuals possessed innate physiological constitutions of staggering caliber; a female plagued by myopia without the financial means for surgical correction… was functionally categorized as disabled.
How on earth had a disabled female carrying unverified criminal charges wound up dispatched to Ash-Rock Prison?
Seemingly picking up on the guard’s bewilderment, Hein adjusted his spectacles, offering a remarkably faint, timid excuse: “L-Lord Reinhardt instructed me to get lost over here.”
Ah, so he managed to offend Reinhardt… The guard offered a look of profound sympathy before shoving him down toward the subterranean general cellblocks on the first floor.
Given that this particular female radiated zero combat presence, and considering the factional minefield that was Ash-Rock Prison, newcomers invariably endured a brutal initiation ritual designed to establish dominance. Tonight’s inaugural communal dinner in the grand hall promised to be an absolute bloodbath.
Though brimming with pity, the guard could extend nothing beyond commiseration. Musing for a moment, he ultimately tossed Hein a final piece of parting counsel:
“If you happen to catch sight of a silver-haired, red-eyed female down there… make sure you keep your distance.”
At those words, the previously mute Hein offered a sideways glance. The guard experienced a fleeting flash of doubt, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him, because for a split second he caught the corner of Hein’s lips curving upward in an amusement entirely detached from his timid, cowardly persona.