The young Alpha leaned back on the leather sofa, his black short-sleeved T-shirt creased from his lazy posture. His attention idly drifted to a faded children’s drawing framed on the wall of the break room.
“Boss, I’ve been working here three years without a vacation. I’m exhausted—don’t assign me any missions this month. I want to go to a tropical island,” Bai Chunan bargained, shifting his position as he addressed the Omega selecting coffee at the tea cabinet.
“Hm?”
The rich aroma of Italian coffee filled the room. The Omega straightened slightly, the two rabbit ears hanging from his gray hair twitching before settling. His slender frame, wrapped in a vest and suit, gave no hint that he had ever borne children.
“Cigars are for adults; you should avoid picking up such bad habits,” Yan Yi said softly, glancing at him before returning to brewing coffee.
Even a single look from him carried an overwhelming force, emanating from his high-level pheromones. Bai Chunan immediately sat up straight, pressing out his cigarette in the ashtray.
After all, this Omega was the president of the Omega Alliance, commanding the PBB base’s elite agents for years with his top-tier drooping-ear rabbit glands. Fifteen years ago, he had been promoted to Major of the Pacific Biological Diversification Base during a rebellion. Backed by a powerful Falcon Alpha family fortune, no one had ever challenged his position.
Bai Chunan watched as Yan Yi placed a cup of coffee in front of him, then elegantly sat across from him, crossing one long leg and tapping lightly on the keyboard. He said in a gentle tone, “It’s just a small hostage rescue mission. It won’t take much of your time.”
“I’m not going. I want a vacation.”
“Two hundred thousand.”
“This isn’t about money.” Bai Chunan exhaled and leaned back, counting on his fingers. “This year’s only May. How many missions have I taken already?
- January: South Africa airstrike search and rescue
- February: Antarctic division frozen virus investigation
- March: reclaimed counterfeit differentiation agents from the market
- April: two terrorist organizations dismantled
- Last night: the little Alpha blocking your son in the school bathroom confessing—I dealt with him
“Boss, you have so many Omega elites under your command. Could you stop overworking me alone? They’re fragile, I’m the only Alpha. My partner has been on maternity leave for six months, traveling around Europe, not even blocking posts. I’ve only had one weekend off this year. Isn’t that too much?”
“Because you’re capable, I value you.” Yan Yi rested his chin on his hand, observing the hostage video on the screen. “Watch the footage before deciding.”
The recording showed a space almost completely dark, with minimal lighting. From the few objects visible near the cameras, it seemed to be a small aquarium. The hostage was shackled inside a water-filled glass tank.
“I can’t save them. By the time I arrive, they’ll be dead. The tank looks about three meters by six meters,” Bai Chunan said casually, crossing his hands over his stomach. “By the way, shouldn’t the police handle kidnappings? When did we start taking on this kind of dirty work? Is the Alliance collapsing or is Jin Shu going bankrupt?”
Yan Yi studied the footage carefully, spinning a pen between his fingers. “You must have heard about the 109 Institute explosion last month. The informant handing us surveillance said the lab suffered major damage—and one special operations experimental subject worth three billion USD went missing.”
Bai Chunan raised an eyebrow. “That’s a huge loss.”
The 109 Institute had cultivated the most advanced humanoid combat units modern medicine could produce. They had enhanced glands, superior differentiation abilities for warfare, and numerous ancillary abilities. Their durability and self-healing far exceeded ordinary humans. Mature experimental units were sold as bioweapons worldwide, priced according to their comprehensive capabilities—ranging from one to several billion USD.
Yan Yi continued, “Coincidentally, after the experimental subject went missing, he ended up on the streets and was picked up by a human trafficking group. They thought he was just an ordinary Omega and were looking for a buyer who fancied him.”
The video had been covertly filmed by an undercover operative posing as a buyer. In the darkness and shaky footage, only the outline of the hostage’s back could be made out: narrow, delicate shoulders, a long neck and spine. The upper body, except for the head and neck, was tightly wrapped in white bandages, showing that he had sustained severe injuries.
Bai Chunan suddenly felt a spark of interest. He sat up and leaned toward the laptop, studying the screen carefully. At that moment, loud voices erupted from the video—shouting in what seemed to be either a local dialect or criminal jargon. Listening closely, he made out something roughly translating to: “Guaranteed prime stock; don’t bother watching if you’re not buying.”
“Oh, human trafficking,” Bai Chunan muttered, touching his chin. “Professional offenders… looks like a sizable operation.”
Unexpectedly, in the last few seconds of the video, the hostage in the glass tank turned his head.
With the faint light and the laptop’s facial enhancement feature, the hostage’s face was extracted and enlarged on a split screen. Fully submerged in water, he was a young man with blonde hair and blue eyes, cheeks almost snow-white. His profile was strikingly handsome, reminiscent of a Venus statue sunk beneath the waves.
Bai Chunan froze, staring at the frames where the hostage turned. He replayed them over and over, his fingers trembling slightly. Hot coffee spilled onto his fingertips, burning a bright red mark.
It seemed his reaction had been anticipated. Yan Yi took a sip of his coffee and pulled a piece of paper from the drawer. It was covered with tiny dots and short lines. “Interestingly, half an hour ago, we received a distress signal from this experimental subject. He didn’t speak; he only tapped Morse code when communicating with us. Want to know what he said?”
Bai Chunan lowered his head, burying it in his arm. He pinched his glands lightly, trying to suppress his pheromone output, but it had little effect. Within seconds, the Alpha’s obsessive, craving pheromones filled the break room.
By profession, the code was easy for him to interpret. The distress message from the subject was two simple words: “white lion.”
White Lion.
The Alpha’s strong pheromones interfered with Yan Yi’s glands. Considerate as always, Yan Yi handed him a suppressor from the drawer. “My records show your pheromones have a high compatibility with the hostage. His condition isn’t looking good—your presence may calm him.”
“Of course. It’s awkward to be asked by an ex to rescue him; I wouldn’t force you if you didn’t want to go. But the subject is a special operations experimental unit with high aggression. If things get urgent, anyone I send will have to subdue him by force.”
“He’s not an ex-boyfriend, he’s a hookup,” Bai Chunan said, grinding his teeth with a sharp laugh and rubbing his face to clear his mind. “I can go. Send me the location.”
Yan Yi’s concern deepened slightly. “If the hostage resists…”
“He won’t,” Bai Chunan said, flexing his wrists lightly until the joints cracked. Using the suppressor, he forced down the agitation factor in his glands and whispered, “If necessary, use force. Subdue him.”