At the highest point in the center of Capital City lay a restricted district enclosed by enormous stone walls. At its center rose a black tower so tall it pierced the clouds, nicknamed “Lead Cloud.”
This was the political heart of the Federation, the nexus of power controlling the entire world, an inviolable beacon. It symbolized the Federation’s colossal ship: like Lead Cloud itself, it would stand forever no matter how great the coming storm.
Inside the restricted district, two equally important buildings stood on either side of Lead Cloud. The red building to the left was the Red Saha Ability Research Institute. The blue building to the right was the Blue Hub Ability Inspection Bureau.
At that moment, Blue Hub Headquarters was brilliantly lit and unbearably tense. The huge conference hall was silent enough to hear a pin drop. Officials who normally strutted with their noses in the air now sat with lowered heads and held-in stomachs, terrified of standing out in the crowd.
News of Bolas and Clova’s deaths had arrived some time ago, but nobody dared leave work on time.
At last, the click of leather boots striking marble sounded in the corridor. Each step seemed to land like a hammer on their hearts, tightening every nerve.
The conference-room doors were shoved open without courtesy, revealing a figure radiating murderous intent. The moment he appeared, the air-conditioning seemed to become colder and the room stiffened with suffocating tension.
He walked straight to the head seat, pulled out the chair, and sat facing everyone. He said nothing, merely sweeping the room with a sharp, grim gaze.
Anyone who watched the news regularly would recognize him easily: Si Hongche, Director of Blue Hub District Two, a control-type S-rank Awakener.
After a long silence, Si Hongche crossed his right leg over his left knee and gave an almost sinister smile. “One operation. Two senior commanders dead.”
The investigation captain responsible for the mission fell from his chair with a thud. His entire body shook violently. “Those criminals in the Black Lantern Society are too vicious, too deranged! Such heinous acts will be severely punished. I’ve already dispatched—”
“Recall them.” Si Hongche cut him off without mercy, his voice cold and heavy.
“W-what?”
“Order every freshman at Xingzhou University to enter the C-rank dungeon located at Blue Hole Reservoir within two days.”
“This…” The captain stared, then stammered, “Commander Bolas did focus on this year’s freshmen before he died, but after analysis we believe the three A-rank freshmen do not yet possess this level of capability. The Black Lantern Society has most likely already—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Si Hongche looked at him as though at an idiot.
Whether the killer was among the freshmen did not matter. Whether the students survived did not matter. He simply needed to eliminate the possibility.
The captain shivered and immediately agreed.
Si Hongche stared at him for several seconds before lowering his leg, standing, and returning to his office.
The moment he entered, he removed his gloves and shrugged off his long double-breasted military leather coat. Then he reached down and unfastened the black rhinoceros-hide belt at his waist.
He folded the belt in his hands, cracked it once through the air, and walked toward the figure hanging before the closed curtains.
Hearing Si Hongche’s footsteps, the man’s shoulders began to shake. Before he could make a sound, the belt slashed diagonally across his left ribs.
The words in his throat turned into an uncontrollable cry of pain.
“Ahhhhh! Stop!”
Si Hongche said nothing. The belt fell again and again, from chest to lower abdomen, crossing the whole of the man’s torso.
Blood quickly soaked through the thin white T-shirt. The man’s cuffed hands struggled wildly, tearing the skin of his obviously malnourished, slender wrists. Blood ran down his forearms, but he did not seem to notice. His body continued convulsing from pain.
“Please… Che, it hurts—ahhh!” His screams were broken and ugly. His face twisted, his hands clawing madly at empty air. It was not beautiful, but beauty had nothing to do with a body’s instinctive response to extreme pain.
When Si Hongche had struck enough, he tossed the belt aside, grabbed the man’s blond hair, and roughly yanked up his lowered head.
Beneath hair soaked with cold sweat appeared a delicate, pale face. His eyes were bloodshot, his expression terrified as he stared at Si Hongche.
Si Hongche showed not the slightest pity. “Stop pretending to be so pitiful. You’re a plant-type S-rank Awakener. You don’t die that easily.”
The man’s lips were cracked. Tears and mucus covered his face. Yet he suddenly quieted. Though still trembling from pain, he no longer screamed.
With the last of his rationality, he suppressed the surging pheromones inside his body, refusing to protect himself and refusing to lash out at the man in front of him.
Si Hongche showed no appreciation. His fingers slid from the side of the man’s face to his left chest, then pressed cruelly into the bloody swelling there.
“Oliver. Show me that you’re useful.”
The man called Oliver arched instantly like a startled shrimp and began to convulse. A faint flush unexpectedly appeared across his bloodless face.
Their one-hundred-percent pheromone compatibility meant his sensitive zones still reacted violently to this man’s touch.
“Treat your own wounds.” With that, Si Hongche kicked aside the bloodstained belt and left the office without looking back.
He seemed completely certain that Oliver would refuse to use his ability to ease the pain and would willingly experience every bit of it.
Only after Si Hongche’s footsteps disappeared did the barely conscious Oliver slowly lift his head.
He rubbed two fingers together. Two extremely fine vines suddenly emerged from his fingertips, slipped deftly into the keyhole of the cuffs, and clicked the lock open with ease.
Oliver collapsed heavily onto the floor. His clothes, soaked with blood and sweat, clung tightly to his body.
His gaze was unfocused and he was close to fainting, yet he forced his paper-thin frame upright and staggered toward Si Hongche’s desk.
A leaf quietly covered the camera in the corner. Only then did Oliver raise a wrist torn open and beaded with blood and reach for the computer on the desk.
With stiff, careful fingers, he typed on the keyboard. Pale-blue screen light illuminated his white, battered face.
Finishing those words used the last of his strength. He sank to his knees, struggled to raise his eyes, and finally pressed Confirm as though collapsing— [REQUEST FOR ASSISTANCE]
Applicant: Oliver, former member of Blue Hub District Two
Perpetrator: Oliver, former member of Blue Hub District Two
Crimes: Betrayal, cowardice, resentment
Requested sentence: Death
Payment: S-rank gland
Additional requirement: Confidentiality
–
When the Black Lantern Society headquarters received the new request, Lance was still biting into a shumai.
After hearing the complete application, his expression changed slightly.
In front of Zhan Pingchuan, his acting should have been at its absolute peak, yet the words in his miniature earpiece genuinely shocked him.
Applying to have himself killed? And an S-rank at that?
Why?
Zhan Pingchuan immediately noticed Lance’s distraction. “What’s wrong?”
Lance snapped back to himself and realized he had relaxed his guard.
Zhan Pingchuan could not learn that he wore a miniature earpiece.
During the brief pause, his mind raced. There was only one method capable of making Zhan Pingchuan instantly throw reason and intelligence to his grandmother’s house and completely overlook Lance’s abnormality.
Lance put down his chopsticks and drew a deep breath as if restraining some urge, unable to meet Zhan Pingchuan’s eyes.
“I think… my pheromones are…”
He stopped, as though too embarrassed to continue. But it was obvious that one exchange of bodily fluids could not permanently cure pheromone disorder.
Zhan Pingchuan’s brows rose high. The sea-urchin beef bun in front of him suddenly tasted like nothing. He quietly suppressed his agitated Alpha pheromones and said with the innocent tone of someone who had never watched AO porn in his life, “As a good young man of the new era, helping others is my life creed. You never need to feel awkward. If you need anything, tell me anytime. I will absolutely, unconditionally do my duty.”
He schemingly emphasized every adverb.
Lance: “.”
Zhan Pingchuan released a little soothing pheromone, hid the expression of a peacock spreading its tail, and asked as casually as possible, “You’re full?”
He had seen Lance eat only three pieces.
In truth, Lance had never particularly wanted the shumai. He had only requested them to delay Zhan Pingchuan, because shumai had to be freshly wrapped and each steamer contained only a limited number. They took far longer to buy than boxed meals.
Sensing bitter gentian pheromones, the star magnolia—which had not actually been disordered at all—began to stir slightly.
“I’m full.”
Lance lifted his long hair and reached to the back of his neck, pressing and rubbing his aching gland.
Under his touch, the sensitive gland contracted. Fresh, sweet star-magnolia fragrance gradually seeped through his fingers.
“Cough. I’ll take a shower. I’m covered in sweat.” Zhan Pingchuan’s ears heated. Lance soothing his gland this openly in front of him was far too visually provocative.
As if completely unaware of how seductive the gesture was, Lance gave a soft, obedient “Mm.”
Zhan Pingchuan opened the bathroom door and immediately stripped off his jacket. The reason he had not showered the moment he returned was because the water heater had been completely emptied of hot water.
He found that astonishing. There should have been enough hot water for four or five people, yet Lance had used all of it in one go.
Apparently Lance’s love for bathrooms bordered on fanaticism. In the future, wouldn’t he need one a hundred square meters large?
If the bathroom alone was a hundred square meters, the whole house would need to be eight hundred.
An eight-hundred-square-meter villa was not a big deal for Ghost Eye Guild. He would just have to ask Old Zhan for an advance on his inheritance.
Zhan Pingchuan’s thoughts wandered as he turned on the faucet and stepped beneath the water. His gaze happened to fall on the small window opposite the shower.
Along the black window frame, a strip of dust had been rubbed away.
Zhan Pingchuan’s eyes narrowed instantly.
Who would deliberately wipe off that particular strip of dust?
Unless someone had entered or exited through the window, gotten stuck somewhere, and accidentally rubbed the dust away with their clothes.
But exactly as Lance had predicted, Zhan Pingchuan’s intelligence had already been thrown completely to his grandmother’s house. He looked away almost immediately, grabbed his toothbrush, and started brushing his teeth.
The instant Zhan Pingchuan entered the bathroom, Lance’s eyes sharpened. Breathing unevenly, he ordered into his earpiece, “Don’t move yet. This could be a trap. Have Duma investigate Oliver.”
Zhan Pingchuan emerged from the bathroom at light speed with a towel around his body.
Given his height, it was not large enough to cover much beyond the critical area.
He raised one arm. Strong veins stood along his forearm from wrist to elbow, visible beneath wet trails of water and radiating vigorous sexual tension.
He tossed his sweat-soaked uniform across the room and landed it perfectly inside the laundry basket.
Lance’s Adam’s apple moved. His eyes darkened as he voluntarily opened both arms.
Steam and moisture rolled from Zhan Pingchuan toward him. Bitter gentian wrapped completely around Lance. Those strong arms lifted him around the waist and supported him beneath the hips.
The two turquoise pendants brushed the tip of his nose as though touching some hidden switch. Lance lost control and let out a low sound, instinctively tightening his arms around Zhan Pingchuan’s neck.
This time, Zhan Pingchuan did not throw him onto the bed. Holding Lance in a position of complete control, he lowered his head and licked the bead at the center of Lance’s upper lip.
“Wait…” Lance gritted his teeth against the impulse, pushed his glasses back up from the bridge of his nose, and only then tipped back his head to respond.
Zhan Pingchuan raised a brow, clearly unable to understand why Lance was kissing him while wearing glasses.
Flushed, Lance bit at Zhan Pingchuan’s lower lip and murmured indistinctly, “Not letting It watch.”