The He brothers hoisted the injured Lu Yan and Bi Lanxing onto their shoulders respectively, holding their guns with one hand as they carried the casualties toward the vehicle. A doctor from the PBB Thunder Support Team quickly got out of the car to receive them, settling them inside the vehicle, which was fully stocked with medical supplies and equipment.
Ying and Yu Xiaochen retreated to the nearby PBB vehicle. Gripping the crossbar with one hand and holding their guns with the other, they leaned out the window to provide cover while the doctor treated the wounded.
Han Xingqian hooked his arm around Xiao Xun’s waist. A snow-white horn flickered on his forehead as he leaped lightly, using the wind to glide over to the IOA jeep. He waved for the He brothers to get in.
He Suowei shouted, “Are we going or not?”
The Flying Bird test subject was tightly bound by the spider silk released by the Mummy. Jinluchong raised his gun and fired a burst; the bullets pierced the test subject’s entire body, and the bullet holes could not heal as quickly as they would if struck by ordinary weapons.
The special weapon, the Silk Explosion Magazine, possessed the ability to shatter the test subject. Golden Thread Worm holstered his gun and bent down to stroke the gland on the AK magazine—wrapped in snow-white spider silk, it pulsed like a heart.
Mummy walked over to Golden Thread, placed a hand on his shoulder, and leaned down to press her forehead against his. Golden Thread retracted the twin threads from his fingertips, and Mummy flipped over to hang behind him, returning to her rigid state.
Bai Chunian and Lan Bo exchanged a glance: “There’s one Level 2 and one Level 3 left. We can handle them.”
Lan Bo grabbed his wrist and said flatly, “We’re not fighting anymore.”
This was somewhat out of character for Lan Bo, who was usually the most reckless in battle. Bai Chunian glanced down at his tail. Having been out of the water for too long and having expended a great deal of glandular energy, his scales had become somewhat dry. He often stood by bending his fish bones to support his body, which caused some wear on his scales; when the scales were worn down and hadn’t had time to grow new ones, it would hurt.
“Alright.” Bai Chunian picked up Lan Bo, gave Jin Luchong a nod, and was the first to push off the wall and climb up. He then leaped down, landing on the roof of the jeep, shoved Lan Bo through the window of the IOA vehicle, and squeezed himself inside as well.
Jin Luchong, carrying the mummy on his back, squeezed into the PBB vehicle.
Before the remaining test subjects could give chase, the two vehicles sped off one after the other, flooring the gas pedals as they made a high-speed getaway.
The Thunder Support Team bandaged Bi Lanxing and Lu Yan. Bi Lanxing had two external injuries: a wound on his chest that required a few stitches, and a more severe injury to his hand that needed to be sent to the Medical Society for further treatment.
Lu Yan had several thermal burns and internal organ injuries, along with soft tissue contusions in his leg. He hadn’t noticed them while he was in the heat of battle, but now the pain was excruciating. When the doctor moved to help him remove his combat suit, he cautiously handed it to Bi Lanxing, repeatedly emphasizing that there was something important in the pockets and not to lose it. Only then did he relax and allow himself to be treated.
Jin Luchong cradled Lu Yan, using soft, cool spider silk to cover the reddened patches of skin on his body. His silk possessed preservative properties, effectively preventing infection.
“Bunny,” Jin Luchong murmured, nuzzling Lu Yan’s hair. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”
“I’m not afraid of anything. If Bai Chunian hadn’t stopped me, I almost took down an A3 test subject.”
Ying and Yu Xiaochen’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Of course. Ask him if you don’t believe me.” ” While Lu Yan was bragging about the incident, the actual pain and lingering fear caught up with him. As he spoke, he choked up, hugging Jin Luchong and shedding tears. This made Jin Luchong incredibly sad too, and she hugged him back, crying along with him. Bi Lanxing wiped Lu Yan’s tears, while Mummy wiped Jin Luchong’s.
The doctor in the car chuckled helplessly; the little guy’s mood really did change on a dime.
He Suowei drove with a cigarette hanging from his lips, adjusting the rearview mirror. Though he smiled too, he didn’t make a snide remark about the little omega like he used to. Having spent so much time with IOA’s little Omegas during this exchange training, he’d come to realize that this seemingly fragile group of little Omegas weren’t just pretty faces—they were actually growing on him, becoming more and more endearing. Thinking of those two little wolf Alphas who were always tagging along, he sighed. When he got married and had kids someday, he definitely had to have a little Omega.
In IOA’s car, Bai Chunian was driving, Lan Bo sat in the passenger seat, and Xiao Xun was carried by Han Xingqian to the corner of the back seat.
Han Xingqian: “Are you hurt?”
Xiao Xun: “Just a few scrapes. Nothing serious.”
Han Xingqian: “Are you afraid of the bumps?”
Xiao Xun: “Bumps?”
Bai Chunian: “Bro Han means he wants you to sit on his lap. If you don’t even get that, how can you call him ‘Dad’? I bet you’ve never even kissed him on the lips.”
Lan Bo: “Huh?”
Xiao Xun: “……”
Bai Chunian: “Oh shit, I slipped up. Han Ge, I didn’t mean to—I got distracted while driving.”
Xiao Xun grew tense: “…You… you were pretending to be out of earshot… but you heard everything… you guys…”
Lan Bo gave Bai Chunian a puzzled look: “Huh?”
The two little wolves from the He family suddenly pricked up their ears and crouched on the back of the car seat, turning their heads to stare at them with wide, curious eyes.
He Wenxiao: “Daddy? What’s a daddy?”
He Wenyi: “What does that mean?”
Xiao Xun, ashamed, crawled into a corner. Han Xingqian pushed his glasses up and explained kindly, “Using this term of address with respected elders makes it seem more friendly.”
He Wenxiao: “Got it.”
He Wenyi: “Got it.”
Lan Bo: “Got it.”
Bai Chunian: “…No, you don’t. Don’t go butting in.”
A few white feathers blocked their view. Han Xingqian turned sideways, unfurling half his wings to create a small, enclosed space inside the car, then used his M2 differentiation ability, “Eye of the Storm,” to muffle any sound from escaping.
“Are you mad?” Han Xingqian shifted slightly, moving closer to Xiao Xun, who was awkwardly turned halfway away from him.
Xiao Xun replied in a muffled voice, “Yeah. How could you say that in front of everyone?”
Han Xingqian smiled. “I didn’t. I blocked it. Xiao Bai’s ears can pick up multiple frequencies; even after weakening the signal, he could still hear it. It was my oversight.”
“Are you really angry?” Han Xingqian lowered his head, bringing his snow-white horn close to Xiao Xun. “Can I read your mind?”
The sacred beast’s innate ability, derived from the Pegasus gland, allowed him to access another’s thoughts simply by touching their head with his horn. Han Xingqian had initially used this method to confirm that Bai Chunian posed no threat to IOA, becoming the first doctor daring enough to physically examine a test subject.
Xiao Xun suddenly turned around, pressing his fingertips against Han Xingqian’s horn, and beat him to it by using his J1 ability, the Universal Dashboard, to analyze Han Xingqian’s emotional composition.
This move came too suddenly; Han Xingqian hadn’t anticipated it and was unable to conceal his emotions in such a short time.
Emotional Composition:
Romantic Love 90%
Sexual Desire 9.8%
Remorse 0.2%
The data was crystal clear. Xiao Xun froze for a moment, still holding Han Xingqian’s horn.
Han Xingqian, who had assumed he’d firmly hold the upper hand in this relationship, was slightly taken aback. A perfectly normal little o—how could it have developed such an extreme ability?
Xiao Xun’s expression was somewhat subtle; lost in thought, his fingertips unconsciously rubbed Han Xingqian’s horn. The texture of the single horn was somewhat like a polished seashell, with a faint iridescent sheen.
The emotional readings on the Universal Dashboard began to shift again:
Romance 50%
Sexual Desire 40%
Awkwardness 10%
Apology 0%
“Is your horn… sensitive?” Xiao Xun tilted her head back slightly to look at him.
“Uh, no.” Han Xingqian raised his hand and coughed twice to cover his embarrassment.
Xiao Xun suddenly knelt on the car seat, lightly brushed her lips against his horn, then quickly slipped out from under his wing.
The data on the all-purpose dashboard fluctuated wildly for a moment as if a glitch had occurred, before finally stabilizing.
Libido 100%
Bai Chunian, who was driving, suddenly coughed. “Bro Han, your pheromones are choking me!”
The two young wolves were also overwhelmed by the sudden flood of Chidori Grass pheromones filling the car, leaving them dizzy and unable to keep their eyes open.
Lan Bo leaned against the passenger-side window, staring blankly into space, while Xiao Xun hid in the back seat. He found the scent deeply soothing; his whole body went limp with comfort, and his cheeks flushed a pale red.
——
Back at IOA headquarters, Lu Yan and Bi Lanxing were taken away by doctors from the Medical Association. Lu Yan refused to leave, leaning against the wall as he waited for Bai Chunian. However, Dr. Zhong arrived first, and only then did Lu Yan feel comfortable handing over the combat suit he was clutching tightly to him.
Bi Lanxing asked, “What’s inside?”
Lu Yan whispered, “Gagantel smashed the warehouse safe. I saw a few small vials inside, so I slipped them into my pocket. Anything kept in a safe must be valuable.”
The PBB team’s appearance here was no coincidence. On the very day Lu Yan returned from PBB, a squad of PBB Storm Force members was tasked with transporting captured test subjects to the IOA central facility. They brought back the exchange students and trainees who had been training and accompanying the test subjects—Ying and Yu Xiao’cheng were among them.
He Suowei headed straight back to the facility upon arrival, not lingering at the headquarters building. He knew Bai Chunian had to report on the mission first, and the drinking could wait a couple of days—though he had no idea where his two little rascals had run off to again.
Bai Chunian dropped Lan Bo off at the entrance to the first-floor lounge and shoved the four bottles of mineral water he’d grabbed from the door into Lan Bo’s hands: “Wait for me. I’m going upstairs to say hello to the team leader and let the chairman know as well. The chairman should be visiting Lu Yan, so he might not be here.”
Lan Bo nodded.
Watching Bai Chunian enter the elevator, Lan Bo finally let a hint of exhaustion show. He lazily flopped onto the sofa in the lounge and stared blankly out at the darkness beyond the window.
Twenty minutes later, Bai Chunian pushed open the door and walked in. He saw Lan Bo asleep, slumped in a corner of the sofa, with the four bottles of water he’d left for him scattered untouched on the floor.
Bai Chunian tiptoed over; he was already silent when walking, and moving even more quietly made him virtually undetectable.
Only upon approaching did he realize Lan Bo wasn’t asleep at all—he was simply leaning against the back of the sofa, his eyes half-open, a droplet of tears hanging from his lashes, slowly drying into a pearl. Such an exhausted expression had never appeared on Lan Bo’s face before.
Bai Chunian felt a sharp pang in his heart.
He crouched down, unscrewed a bottle of water, and slowly poured it over Lan Bo’s dull, lackluster fishtail, spreading it with his fingers.
The scales regained their luster as they rehydrated. After finishing one bottle, Bai Chunian opened another, working with the focused care of someone tending to a precious gem.
There was one scale on Lan Bo’s tail that had never grown back—the very one he’d plucked off and pressed against the skin of Bai Chunian’s hipbone. It was the shiniest and most beautiful of them all. Back then, he’d said that every Sea Clan leader grows only this one special scale in their lifetime. It seemed that was indeed the case.
Lan Bo sensed him nearby and immediately banished the weariness from his eyes, raising an eyebrow teasingly. “You’ve got me hard.”
“Going home, Obe?” Bai Chunian pretended to be nonchalant as he plucked the pearl from Lan Bo’s eyelash and slipped it into his pocket.
“Let’s go.”
Bai Chunian smiled, bent down to pick him up, and turned off the lights in the lounge before they left.
In the darkness, only Lan Bo’s scales glowed with a faint blue light as Bai Chunian gently patted his back.
“You’re not heartless.”
“Hm?”
“It’s because I made you feel like you couldn’t rely on me—that I’d lose control and do something reckless. So you couldn’t depend on me at all. You had to endure all the pain on your own: the lava, the exile, having your abdomen cut open to harvest your eggs, being turned into a test subject, and every heartbreaking moment.”
“Boliea… (I…)”
“Today you caught the pheromone of that A3 test subject, didn’t you? The Eternal Spirit has arrived, so you told me to leave.”
“Mm.”
“You miss him terribly, don’t you? Do you think I’ll lose to him?”
“Randi, you never seem to realize what you mean to me. You are the ocean, the rivers, the streams, the clouds, the icebergs—all of them combined.”
“So you can’t be so stubborn.” Lan Bo gazed at him with his sapphire-blue eyes. “Otherwise, I’ll make all of that disappear.”
“You’re threatening me again. Can’t you just give in for once?” Bai Chunian pressed Randi’s stubbornly raised head into the crook of his neck: “I promise, I’ll definitely be with you for over 100 years, okay? Think about it—the average human lifespan is around 70. We have strong self-healing abilities, don’t get cancer, and our appearance stops changing once we reach maturity. We should easily live past 200, Since we were first created, every test subject who’s died was killed—I’ve never heard of one dying of natural causes. Scientists haven’t even figured out our average lifespan yet, so why are you worrying so much? Don’t worry. As long as I don’t go looking for trouble, I definitely won’t die. I promise you, starting today, I’ll take a more responsible approach. I’ll absolutely stop doing those stupid things that, in your eyes, only unlucky kids would do. Okay?”
Lan Bo suddenly clutched the fabric of Bai Chunian’s shirt tightly around his shoulders. A faint blush spread across his nose as he buried his head completely in the crook of Bai Chunian’s neck, his slender shoulders trembling slightly.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Alright, don’t be afraid, okay.” Bai Chunian pulled out his phone and switched to the selfie mode. “Look, top news: ‘Mysterious Merfolk Leader, Missing for Years, Spotted by Netizens Crying Like a Two-Hundred-Pound Baby in the Arms of an Unknown Cat-Headed Being.’”
Lan Bo immediately swallowed the phone.