The atmosphere in the adjutant’s office was unusually tense.
“I’m serious, Phili…,” Il said, arms crossed, his face grave. “Don’t you think Gu Qing’s influence over the General… is too significant?”
Phili remained silent, head lowered as he flipped through the data in his hands. His purple hair fell forward, and his red eyes flickered with unease. “I’ve long suspected he isn’t an ordinary male.”
“Think back to the first time we met him,” Il continued, pacing around the table, voice quickening. “That strange ancient outfit… even the Federation’s most advanced scanners couldn’t make sense of those purple scars that glimmered like stardust radiation. It was like… a curse. We should have been on guard from the start—he clearly doesn’t belong to this world.”
“And his purification efficiency,” Phili’s gaze darkened. “He handled a female with mental sea contamination levels nearly at critical without any backlash—this isn’t D-class, not even A-class. It’s more like… some level we’ve never seen.”
“We can’t trace his background,” Il emphasized. “Neither the military nor the Star Alliance can find anything. All it shows is ‘foreign male,’ as if he didn’t come from any known colony system.”
“His attitude toward the females is completely atypical as well,” Phili added coldly. “Never disdainful, never mocking, never arrogant—he even shields military females from the oppression of noble males…”
“Speaking of which—” Il’s eyes widened. “Do you remember that day at the emergency hearing? No one expected him to publicly defy the Male Preservation Council and defend the General! At that moment… I seriously wondered if he had been planning that all along, waiting for the right moment to act!”
Phili’s expression darkened. “His calm, composed demeanor, his ease in handling the nobles… that’s a trained strategist, not the courage of an ordinary male.”
“A male with unknown origins, unknown strength, unknown motives suddenly appears beside the General and influences him… don’t you think that’s… suspicious?”
“Moreover…” Phili closed the file. “The General’s mental sea contamination is already approaching the warning threshold. If this continues, he may be forced to accept a male marking—once that happens, the mental link cannot be broken. If Gu Qing intends to mark him…”
“The General would be finished,” Il muttered.
The two males exchanged a glance, both seeing the anxiety and unease mirrored in the other’s eyes.
Just then, urgent knocks sounded at the door. Vely entered, golden eyes scanning the room alertly. “Are you two talking trash about Gu Qing again?”
“We’re discussing the facts,” Phili replied calmly.
“You don’t understand him,” Vely said firmly. “He saved me—he is my benefactor male. No matter your doubts, his actions were real. Do you think a male who personally purifies military females’ mental seas and risks himself against the nobles is acting out of some base motive?”
Il ground his teeth. “But it could just be an act. His help could have been calculated, gaining the trust of the military females. He’s too perfect, too flawless to be real!”
Il’s expression was conflicted. “Maybe it’s all to hide a larger scheme.”
“Look at this,” Phili said, projecting the terminal’s screen into the air, red eyes like frost. “After Gu Qing entered the Starry Hall with those noble males… rumors exploded throughout the noble circle.”
Il stared in disbelief. “…They say he’s a charmer?”
“Not just that,” Phili’s voice darkened as he opened the investigation report. “Every participating male expressed extreme satisfaction. Some even said Gu Qing was ‘gentle, skilled, the ideal male companion.’ More disturbingly—”
He swiped to a deliberately blurred anonymous audio clip.
“Gu Qing in bed… unbelievable… that waist, that strength… ah, when he thrust, I felt like I was floating…”
“…and he kissed me… my legs… went weak…”
Il glared at the screen in rage. “What obscene gossip is this?! Who is spreading this filth?!”
“This audio cannot yet be verified, but…” Phili’s gaze hardened, “he did spend hours alone with multiple sub-females that night. The surveillance footage… was encrypted and deleted.”
The room grew heavy with tension.
Vely spoke quietly, voice low as if squeezed from his throat: “…I don’t believe he’s that kind of male.”
Phili turned to him. “You mean all of this is fake?”
“I don’t know,” Vely lifted his head, golden eyes resolute. “But I know he saved me, and dozens of mentally unstable military females. If it were all lies, why never demand anything from us? If it were to win affection, he could have insisted we give our loyalty or… more—but he didn’t.”
Il ground his teeth. “…You’re willing to trust him?”
“I am,” Vely said firmly. “He’s the most unlike-any-other male I’ve ever seen.”
Phili lowered his lashes, weighing the risks, silent for several seconds, about to speak—
Il broke the silence first, voice barely above a whisper. “We cannot let the General know about these things. His mental sea is already unstable. If he sees these rumors and doubts, it will only throw him further into chaos.”
Vely nodded, expression grave. “Right. Whether Gu Qing is friend or foe, the General’s stability comes first.”
Phili inhaled deeply, stowing the projected data, his eyes resolute. “Fine. We conceal this for now and continue investigating in secret. When the truth is clear, we’ll decide how to explain it to the General.”
The three shared a knowing glance, understanding the priority: protecting the General.
At that moment, Il’s and Phili’s terminals suddenly lit up, an encrypted command from the Marshal breaking the silence.
The three looked at each other in shock.
Il frowned. “…The timing is far too convenient.”
“Auctioning males of unknown origin, yet matching missing military records…” Phili’s tone was icy. “It’s both a provocation and a lure.”
Phili and Il remained silent for a moment, then nodded almost simultaneously.
“I’ll lead the infiltration team,” Phili said, voice steady as always.
“I’ll prepare the mental shielding equipment and identity disguises,” Il added in a low voice.
Vely’s gaze shone with determination. “I may not be part of this mission, but if this is indeed a conspiracy, I will expose the mastermind behind it—strip them bare.”
They rose together. The storm was near, but they would not let the General face it alone.
Inside the Starry Hall, Loaes leaned against a gilded, intricately carved column, his long fingers tapping lightly on his wine glass in a steady, unhurried rhythm. It had become a new habit over the past two months—whenever the drunken noble males around him let their guard down, the quiet tapping served as a key, coaxing secrets to slip out.
“Loaes, Lord Sig has lost the seventh round.”
A young sub-female, graceful as a night butterfly, landed beside him. Her bone wings shimmered with pearlescent light under the lamps. “As you instructed, I let him win the eighth round. Now he’s boasting, saying he’ll tell me about the Rhine family’s recent secret dealings.”
The youth nodded respectfully and turned to leave.
Her bone wings brushed Loaes’s shoulder. Those spikes that had once caused him unbearable pain were now fully under his control—a weapon honed to lethal precision.
He gazed at his reflection in the wine, the image blurred by the slight swirl of liquid, and memories rose with it.
He seemed to return to that night—the eve when everything began to change, when the unknown and hope intertwined.
It was the seventh night after he had pledged loyalty to Lord Gu Qing.
On the east side of Starry Hall, a small, humble room lay quiet. Dim yellow light spilled over the walls, forming a warm yet hazy halo. The furnishings were plain and worn; a few low stools and a cracked sofa were pushed against the walls, and an old rug lay haphazardly. Fourteen sub-females sat closely together, seeking comfort and warmth from one another.
Loaes stood in the center, back straight, his shadow stretching across the walls in the lamplight. He stared at a corner of cloth in his hands—part of his old uniform, faded and worn from many washes. Unconsciously, he gripped it tightly, as if it were his only source of calm.
“…Lord Gu Qing has invited us to his home tomorrow.”
His voice was soft, yet it stirred ripples through the still air.
The room fell silent. The sub-females looked at one another, faces tense and conflicted—some shocked, some hesitant, some fearful. Distrust shone in their eyes.
After a moment, a trembling voice spoke: “Could… could he be tricking us?”
“What if he wants to use us as bargaining chips for some deal?”
“Even if he saved us, it could’ve just been an act… he’s still a male…”
These worries, doubts, and vulnerabilities cut through Loaes’s heart like blades. He bit his lip, but his mind replayed the banquet—when Gu Qing had effortlessly protected him, using the guise of a game to secure their dignity.
The memory struck him with undiminished force.
He finally lifted his head, eyes unusually steady, voice trembling but clear.
“…That was the first time a male spoke up for us,” he began slowly. “At that event, he could have ignored everything. Those humiliations, that disdain—he could have turned away, just like all the other males. But he didn’t.”
His gaze swept across them, as if trying to imprint that memory on every sub-female.
“He stood up for us. Even used a game to protect us.”
He scanned the familiar faces, some lowered in silence, some eyes flickering with uncertainty. Word by word, he continued: “What could we offer him? Nothing at all.”
After a long pause, a sub-female whispered, “…Yes. How bad could it get? After all, we’re just playthings to those males.”
Another, eyes red, added: “Lord… the medicine you gave us really worked. My injuries… healed in just a few days.”
“The first time a male cared about our wounds…”
“That bottle… it was so warm. I never imagined I could deserve a medicine like that.”
Tears began to well, sliding from one’s eyes and stirring the sorrow in the others. They weren’t weak—they had simply gone too long without being seen as true beings.
Loaes took a deep breath, meeting their eyes.
“I know… we’re all afraid. But I am willing to trust him once. If we gamble, I’d rather bet on Lord Gu Qing than continue to be trampled by those males for a lifetime.”
He lowered his head, voice trembling but sincere.
“Even if the outcome is wrong, at least it’s a choice we make ourselves.”
His words struck like a hammer, shattering the last vestiges of hesitation in their hearts.
They looked at one another, eyes glistening, seeing reflected the shared longing for dignity.
After a moment of silence, one rose, placing a hand gently on his shoulder, and more hands followed. One by one, they embraced him, murmuring:
“We believe you, Loaes.”
“Let’s walk together… at least, we still have each other.”
“We’ve already lost too much; we cannot let fear take away hope again.”
Loaes’s eyes welled with tears.
He looked at the companions who had warmed each other in darkness, gathered from different corners of the slums to the Starry Hall, united by fate and despair.
He had never imagined leading them to any future, but now—he was willing to gamble.
Hoping for one thing: a tomorrow free from oppression. Hoping they could live well, not for anyone else, but for themselves.
The next morning, fifteen sub-females arrived at Gu Qing’s secluded villa as promised. Here, the chirping of birds and the whisper of the wind seemed to cut off the harshness and clamor of Starry Hall. To them, it felt like another world—so foreign it was almost unreal.
When Gu Qing opened the door, Loaes immediately knelt, forehead touching the ground. The others hurriedly followed, bodies pressed low, fingers trembling slightly—but their devotion was sincere and reverent.
Gu Qing’s voice was calm, carrying an unyielding steadiness:
“You knelt before as a gesture of loyalty. But I want you to remember what you look like when you stand.”
Loaes froze. The sub-females held their breaths, unable to lift their heads, yet tears slid silently down their cheeks. It was not fear, but a kind of respect they had never received—a sudden recognition that they could be accepted without bowing or groveling.
Gu Qing did not urge them, merely turning to walk back inside, leaving the door open. That open door was both an invitation and a sign of trust.
Carefully, they rose and entered. The villa was modest, yet warm and comfortable. Sunlight poured through the windows onto the sofas and wooden coffee table, radiating the owner’s presence—restrained, steady, quiet, yet profoundly reassuring.
Gu Qing personally poured each sub-female a cup of hot tea, then brought a large platter of assorted cookies. Each cookie was uniquely shaped; some sprinkled with fine sugar, others drawn with tiny smiles—clearly not bought casually, but prepared with care.
“Sit first,” he said.
The sub-females thanked him, taking their places on the sofa with stiff, cautious movements, as if on guard. Yet the first taste of a cookie prompted one to exclaim involuntarily:
“So… so delicious…!”
The small outburst seemed to release a weight they hadn’t known they carried. Others laughed quietly, some with sugar dusting their lips, some with tears brimming. That sweetness—long absent—was more than the flavor of a cookie; it was the taste of being respected, cared for, and treated as true “beings.”
“You probably haven’t had breakfast yet. Eat something first,” Gu Qing said softly, his concern understated but present.
After the meal, he handed Loaes a book titled Hehuan Sect Secrets.
Loaes froze, momentarily unable to understand the purpose.
Gu Qing merely said, “This isn’t to teach you how to please anyone. It’s to teach you to read the hearts of others, understand the dynamics, and take initiative—also to strengthen yourself.”
“If you don’t understand something, ask me anytime.”
The book felt almost weightless, yet in Loaes’s hands it carried a heavy sense of responsibility and the possibility of the future. He accepted it with trembling hands, lowering his head, whispering almost inaudibly:
“…Thank you, sir.”
Gu Qing did not respond, turning instead to refill their tea.
But at that moment, they all understood—the door to change had finally opened.
This day would become a beginning they would never forget.
As Gu Qing reflected on this precious memory, a message quietly interrupted the serenity. The early-mature, calm youth had quickly retracted its sharp claws, secretly delivering the chaos and intrigue of Starry Hall into Gu Qing’s hands.
That evening, in the dim, golden light of the villa, Gu Qing stood alone by the window, swirling red wine between his fingers. The liquid caught the light, glowing with a deep crimson hue like a polished gem.
His eyes were cold and profound, no longer the warmth they had once carried, but blades unsheathed, waiting for the right moment.
“This game… has only just begun.”
Those who once stood high above now struggled amid the dust. For some, survival itself had become the deepest prison.
Ivan Loa, after being taken from Starry Hall, saw his mental sea purification abilities steadily decline, his status falling from high-level male to low-level male.
The Loa family discovered that the wine served that night had been laced with a poison that disrupted the mental sea, personally prepared by Arthur Rhine and Leo Sig, two of the great noble houses.
The three houses turned on one another, attacking and accusing. The Loa family vowed to reclaim their dignity and justice. The implicated males were brought to court, facing exile to the frontier and a lifetime serving sub-females, never to return to the main star.
The little Dao Spirit whirled around excitedly, exclaiming, “Wow, Gu Qing’s move is brilliant! He’s letting the three great houses fight among themselves while remaining completely hidden—no one would suspect he’s the mastermind behind it all.”
It glanced toward Starry Hall in the distance, muttering softly, “And look at Loaes, who went from pitiful at the start to now orchestrating things behind the scenes. There’s a lot of mystery hidden in this chessboard, hehe.”
Finally, with a mischievous tone, it added, “He wouldn’t be doing this just to get back at Milton, right? Gu Qing is usually cold, but when he acts… he’s terrifyingly sharp.”