Pop—
Because it was too tight, like pulling a stopper out of a water pouch, the little tail hook made a soft popping sound as it detached.
After the earlier ordeal, Carlos’s little tail hook had become utterly disheveled.
The small black heart shape dangled in the air, swinging back and forth. The tail hook looked pitifully wet, and under the light, it even glistened with a suspicious sheen.
Now was neither the time nor the place, but Carlos couldn’t care less. He hurriedly wrapped the tail hook around his waist.
Learning from his last experience, even though his body was uncomfortable, he moved much faster this time.
From wrapping the tail hook to straightening his pants and shirt, the entire process took only ten seconds—his hands moving so fast they were a blur.
Carlos was no longer the insect he used to be. He had transformed from a novice male insect into a rookie male insect who was still a step away from being truly initiated.
Wait! He hadn’t done anything wrong, so why was he acting so guilty? The more Carlos thought about it, the more something felt off.
He had intended to help Zelan tidy up his clothes, but after the earlier battle and insect transformation, the female insect’s clothes were already tattered and torn barely covering his body making it impossible to even know where to start.
The tiny confinement room was cramped and narrow, barely able to accommodate two insects.
The female insect in his arms had, due to the insect transformation, pinned his wings firmly against the wall. Carlos had no choice but to hold the female insect in his arms, letting him lean against his shoulder.
Now, as the frenzy of the insect transformation subsided, the five pairs of wings gradually retracted, and the female insect’s body began to slump weakly.
Carlos’s shoulder had been bitten clean through, and his current condition wasn’t much better either. Fortunately, he was wearing a black shirt, so the bloodstains weren’t obvious, sparing him from looking too disheveled.
He was actually someone who feared pain deeply.
His life motto was: if he could sit, he wouldn’t stand; if he could lie down, he wouldn’t sit.
Although now, even after dying, he was still being exploited by the system—completely contrary to his principles.
Zelan leaned against his shoulder, his breath brushing lightly against Carlos’s neck, tickling him. But more imPotantly, his wound was constantly pressed underneath. He had no doubt that if it were pressed any longer, he might end up half-paralyzed.
Carlos had no choice but to quickly adjust his position.
And so…
When Zelan’s eyelids fluttered slightly and his consciousness gradually cleared,
he felt as if he were lying on something soft and warm, yet the sensation was damp.
As soon as he opened his eyes, he was met with an enlarged insect chin.
The next second,
without the slightest hesitation, Zelan used the blade-like feathers on the ground as a weapon, pressing it directly against Carlos’s neck.
The sharp feather blade pressed tightly against Carlos’s neck, leaving a shallow bloodstain. With just a bit more force, he could separate this insect’s head from its body.
When his other hand fiercely grabbed the insect’s collar, using a clever twist to force the insect to lower its head, the appearance of the insect before him gradually came into focus.
“It’s you.”
Before him was his supervising insect, and he was currently resting his head on the supervising insect’s lap.
Zelan eased the pressure of the feather blade slightly but still didn’t let go.
Even though he was battered and bruised, his strength drained as if emptied, as an S-class female insect, at such close range, Zelan could take an insect’s life in an instant.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
The guard did not seize his wrist but instead raised both hands with palms facing outward, adopting a posture of surrender and innocence.
Zelan stared into the guard’s eyes, trying to discern something from them.
In the other’s dark pupils, he saw his own reflection. A face so ugly he could barely recognize it. Beyond that, there was only an overwhelming darkness. The light fell into the guard’s eyes, casting a faint glimmer in the depths of the blackness.
He could see nothing.
Perhaps this strange insect before him was something he had never truly understood.
“Zelan, do you remember what just happened?”
Zelan remained silent, offering no reply. His memory still lingered just before the violent insect transformation, the last scene before his eyes being the guard and the gaping maw of the blue spider.
He remembered nothing.
What troubled him more was the discomfort coursing through his body.
Injuries from head to toe were something he had long grown accustomed to; even a wound on his arm so deep that bone was visible and a large chunk of flesh was missing wouldn’t make him flinch.
But a tingling sensation spread from his reproductive cavity, like ten thousand ants gnawing at his heart, threatening to engulf his entire being.
The soreness and fullness emanating from that area were all too familiar to him.
He had been pried open by something.
The blade in his hand edged closer.
“Wait! Zelan, spare the insect, just wait a moment.”
The guard seemed to sense the doubt in his eyes and quickly raised an object beside him.
A slender syringe, though empty—the medication inside had been completely used up.
“It happened so suddenly. I grabbed the medication and rushed over. It can alleviate the violent insect transformation of female insects. Thankfully, I made it in time.”
In truth, Carlos had just escaped from the jaws of danger and had no time to prepare such medication.
Even if he had the time, this kind of priceless medication was not something someone of his status could obtain.
In the critical moment, with no hope for precious medication, he, as a male insect, had to step in temporarily.
He didn’t want to deceive Zelan, but to protect his precarious disguise, he had no choice.
Zelan’s gaze fell on the syringe, then shifted to Carlos’s eyes, as if judging how much of what he said was true and how much was false.
There was no doubt that he had the transformation inhibitor in his body. He had experienced violent transformations before and had injected small amounts of this medication. He still remembered the sensation.
At the same time, a new toxin was contending with it within his body.
Although the toxin left him feeling weak all over, he could still sense the presence of his spiritual sea and strength deep within.
They had regressed from a towering tree to a tender sprout, but they were truly still there. Given enough time, they would grow again.
Regardless of whether the guard before him was lying, he had indeed helped him.
Before the violent insect transformation, he had never imagined he could emerge unscathed.
Zelan slowly lowered the feather blade in his hand.
“Carlos.”
After spending so much time with the guard, Zelan called Carlos’s name for the first time.
“Why did you help me?”
Time and time again, this was not something a guard should do.
“Why?” Carlos lowered his head in thought for a moment, then felt he had spoken nonsense.
Suddenly confronted with such a question, Carlos was momentarily at a loss for words. He had never considered needing a reason to help someone.
“Even though you didn’t hear it, I promised you, didn’t I?”
“I will definitely wake you up.”
Carlos smiled, “Though I’m not exactly a good bug, I always keep my word.”
“You know that’s not all I’m asking.”
Zelan struggled to sit up, his gaze fixed on the wound on Carlos’s shoulder. He gently placed his palm over it, feeling the chaotic mess of blood and flesh beneath his fingers, which trembled reflexively at the slightest touch.
“I’m the one who hurt you,” Zelan stated with certainty. That wound was undeniably his doing.
No bug, after being injured, would ever act like a fool and do something like this.
“In my homeland, there’s a saying: ‘A drop of kindness should be repaid with a spring of gratitude,'” the warden said, a nostalgic expression crossing his face. He continued, “Consider it as…”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
The warden pointed to Zelan’s arm, now exposed to the bone, but seemed afraid of aggravating the injury, his finger hovering in mid-air.
Zelan remembered it clearly. These were the words he had spoken before his violent transformation. He had used his arm to block the Blue Spider’s fatal strike.
If he hadn’t transformed to fend off the spider then, both of them would have died. Even if it weren’t for the warden, he would have done the same. As long as it wasn’t fatal, he had endured worse injuries just to survive.
In this endless cycle of debts, who truly owed whom?
Zelan wanted to argue with the warden, but seeing the relieved smile on Carlos’s face, he found himself unable to utter a single word.
In the cramped space, a faint trace of lemon scent lingered—a fragrance he had only ever smelled in his nightmares, yet now it grew increasingly vivid.
It seeped into every pore, drifting from his nostrils straight to his heart. This unfamiliar sensation made him want to flee. Staying here any longer with the warden, he had no idea what might happen.
Tap, tap, tap, tap—
Footsteps echoed from outside, growing closer. Someone was approaching the solitary confinement area.
“Now isn’t the time for this. We need to leave quickly.”
Carlos’s sudden remark came at the perfect moment, finally putting an end to this awkward situation.
After saying this, the warden hurried out to fetch the hovercraft used for transporting bug slaves.
Only when Carlos’s figure gradually disappeared from view did Zelan finally allow himself a moment of true, relaxed breathing.
At a time like this, he couldn’t even afford to let out a deep sigh. For him now, even that was a luxury.
Zelan used two fingers to pry open the exposed flesh on his arm, gently searching inside.
When he opened his palm, there lay a needle-like feather shaft. The slender shaft was not the white of his own feathers but a deep blue-black throughout.
During his earlier struggle with the Blue Spider, he had absorbed the venom from the spider’s mouthparts into this feather.
This toxin wouldn’t kill a bug instantly but would slowly spread through their body, reaching the heart hours later and causing cardiac arrest. The time delay would completely absolve the poisoner, making it the perfect venom.
He had thought it would soon come in handy.
But now…
In Zelan’s line of sight, Carlos was struggling to push the hovercraft inside. The black-haired, black-eyed warden, injured and straining, seemed to exert great effort with every movement. As he worked, a trickle of blood slid down his neck.
The warden was too focused, not even noticing Zelan’s blatant, almost excessive gaze.
Zelan’s palm twitched slightly as he buried the feather shaft back into his flesh.
After bringing Zelan back to cell 2757.
Carlos hurriedly shut the dormitory door, not even bothering with the wound on his shoulder or taking off his clothes. It was déjà vu—he dashed straight to the bathroom.
After all, Carlos was still a normal man or rather, a normal male insectoid now.
He was flesh and blood, not some creature born from a crack in a rock.
Having spent so much time with Zelan, even if he were the reincarnation of a monk or a saint in deep meditation, he couldn’t suppress the most primal reactions of his body.
He felt pain, he laughed, he grieved, and he also had desires.
Under the cold water, Carlos’s vision blurred. He should have seen nothing.
Yet, somehow, the droplets of water before him began to intertwine and dance, as if they had a life of their own, constantly shifting forms, completely beyond his control.
In the end, they transformed into a silvery, sticky hue.
He knew—that was also the color of Zelan’s body.