“Ready.” Bai Chunian put on his goggles, bent over, and placed both hands on the diving board. “You can’t turn into a fish tail midway through—that’s a foul.”
Lan Bo stood straight at the edge of the diving board, looking down at the churning water below. Unlike the ocean, the water in the pool didn’t flow; it looked clear and transparent, a deep blue, but a slight sniff revealed the smell of chlorine. A fake ocean always gives itself away, just like a fake gemstone.
The whistle blew, and Bai Chunian traced a perfect arc through the air before hitting the water. He was straining every muscle to beat Lan Bo. Earlier, he’d agreed to this condition just to get Lan Bo to help train the little brats on Aphid Island. After getting home, Lan Bo had actually pestered him, pinning him in front of the mirror to jerk him off himself, Lan Bo even wrapped his tail tip around Bai Chunian, thrusting it in from the front and sending a weak electric current through him—it was literally a double torment, both physically and mentally, worse than death.
Lan Bo was amused by Bai Chunian’s serious expression. As Bai Chunian took off, Lan Bo leaped into the pool and dove into the water.
He didn’t understand human swimming techniques, so he continued to swim forward with his legs and arms held close to his body. He didn’t need goggles to see underwater; although his gills had disappeared after assuming human form, he could hold his breath far longer than any human.
So, to the other spectators on the shore, the scene looked like this: Bai Chunian swam forward swiftly with a standard, graceful freestyle stroke, trailing a string of snow-white waves. In the lane next to him, the water was calm and still; the competitor remained submerged as he sprinted forward, trailing a string of small, scattered blue-glowing jellyfish behind him.
Whale Shark and Sea Anemone Alpha sat on the poolside opposite the starting point, watching the spectacle.
Wei Lan: “That’s a foul, right? Never mind—this Omega’s body is way too hot. His looks are even more of a foul.”
Feng Lang: “Do you have this inexplicable urge to kneel down?”
As Lan Bo drew closer to them, that feeling grew stronger.
Wei Lan also began to feel uneasy and rubbed the back of his neck: “I feel a bit off. Could it be rank suppression…? Could that Omega be an A3?”
Feng Lang took a deep breath: “It seems to be… species suppression.”
Lan Bo had just injected pheromones into Bai Chunian’s body to relieve his heat-related discomfort; his glands hadn’t fully settled yet, some pheromones floating on the surface were forced out by water pressure, causing an overflow. Merpeople are the apex predators in the food chain of all aquatic species, exerting absolute species suppression over all aquatic life. It can be said that, given equal strength and rank, merpeople’s glands would completely overwhelm those of any other aquatic species.
Yu Xiaochen reacted most strongly. Clownfish have low attack power and are far less resilient than whale sharks and sea anemones, so she clutched her gills and plunged headfirst into the water.
Feng Lang acted with lightning speed, leaping into the water to grab him. With one hand braced against the pool’s edge and the other clasped around Yu Xiaochen’s waist, he released a soothing pheromone to block the species suppression emanating from Lan Bo.
Sheltered by this fresh, citrusy pheromone, Yu Xiaochen regained his composure and looked up to meet Feng Lang’s eyes.
Wei Lan teased them and moved a little further away. Before Yu Xiaochen could say anything, Feng Lang—a grown man—already had his ears turning red. He used his forearm to lift Yu Xiaochen onto the pool deck, then leaned against the edge, chuckling as he struck up a conversation.
“Perfect timing,” Yu Xiaochen said, sitting on the edge of the pool and whispering to him. “Quick, give me your brother’s number. My friend really likes him.”
Feng Lang: “……”
—
It turns out there’s a good reason why swimming rules in major competitions require swimmers to break the surface to breathe within the first fifteen meters of the start and turns—it effectively prevents mermaids from sneaking into the competition.
Although Lan Bo maintained his human form, his swimming speed was by no means slow; he was a full body length ahead of Bai Chunian. As the saying goes, even a starving camel is bigger than a horse—it’s rash to assume that just because a marine animal has grown legs, it can outswim humans.
But when it came time to turn, that gap suddenly narrowed.
Lan Bo swam fast, but he struggled to coordinate the balance of his human limbs; the sequence of touching the pool wall, turning, and kicking off to propel himself forward was simply too complex.
Swimming was one of Bai Chunian’s specialties in his daily training. The moment Lan Bo got stuck at the turn, Bai Chunian immediately surged ahead. His pair of well-developed, powerful calves gave the pool wall a forceful push, and he darted ten meters ahead before Lan Bo even began his return stroke.
More and more staff gathered at the poolside to watch the spectacle, feeling inexplicably excited by the scene. The crowd included no shortage of Bai Chunian’s female and male fans, and their cheers and shouts soon brought the entire swimming area to a fever pitch.
Bai Chunian touched the timer first, straightened up from the lane, gasped for breath as he pulled off his goggles, and turned to look at Lan Bo.
Lan Bo finally touched the timer and stood up from the water. His blond hair clung to his forehead and the back of his neck, water dripping from the ends. His chest rose and fell as he panted heavily.
“Yeah, a record-breaking time,” Bai Chunnian said, leaning on the buoy and grinning at Lan Bo, revealing his two front teeth, as he held out his hand.
“You… you really are fast… young people do have better stamina… just a little…” Lan Bo gasped, clasping Bai Chunian’s hand firmly.
“So the bet’s settled. You can’t back out now.” Bai Chunian leaned in and whispered.
“You really want to see that?” Lan Bo hooked his other hand onto the elastic of Bai Chunian’s swim trunks. “Well, if I make it happen, you have to lick me clean.”
“Sure.” Bai Chunian grabbed his mischievous hand from underwater. “Then I want to watch you use the tip of your tail on yourself—the kind where you shove it inside and make it spark.”
Lan Bo raised an eyebrow. “Your demands are a bit bold.”
Bai Chunian gently played with his fingers, his feet secretly hooking around Lan Bo’s legs on the pool floor. “If an Alpha isn’t bold, being a wife is no fun.”
“Come on, let’s get out.” Bai Chunian placed both hands on the pool edge, pushed off with his arms, and climbed out, then turned to offer his hand to Lan Bo.
Lan Bo clasped his wrist, using the leverage to pull himself up over the edge.
Bai Chunian glanced back at the pool, then sat down at the edge with his calves still submerged. The water had become even clearer than when they first arrived, fading from blue to a very pale turquoise, with dozens of small, blue-glowing jellyfish floating on the surface.
Recalling what Dr. Han had said last night, Bai Chunian realized that Lan Bo’s so-called “purification” was far more than just eating some trash. His ability to cause the copper sulfate in the pool water to dissipate and vanish in large quantities was true “purification.”
Lan Bo noticed Bai Chunian staring absently at the water and sat down next to him, nudging him gently with his shoulder: “ “Are you feeling sorry for all that disinfectant? If the manager here takes good care of these jellyfish, this pool won’t need a water change for three to five years.”
“Why would I feel sorry for the disinfectant?” Bai Chunian swirled the water with his finger. “You really are a god.”
“Mm.” Lan Bo raised his hand in front of him. “Come worship me. I’ll protect you.”
Bai Chunian took his hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it lightly: “Will a wish made to you come true?”
“Try it.”
“Then I’ll have a glass of sparkling water first. I’m thirsty.”
A golden streak flashed briefly in Lan Bo’s sapphire-blue eyes before vanishing.
“Hey, Brother Chu! “Wanna go swimming? Aaaah————”
An omega from the psychology department walked by holding a freshly bought bottle of sparkling water and greeted Bai Chunian. Just as the two of them had stepped out of the pool, the little omega stepped in a puddle of water on the ground, slipped, and fell into the pool with a splash. The sparkling water flew out of his hand and landed right in Bai Chunian’s.
The unopened straw floated over from the water’s surface.
“Oh, thanks, Zhang,” Bai Chunian said without hesitation as he picked up the straw, inserted it, and took a sip. He then placed his hand on Lan Bo’s shoulder: “You’re just trying to fool me… I saw you use the Koi Blessing.”
“So what else do you want?” Lan Bo’s eyes crinkled.
Bai Chunian crossed one leg, propped his chin on his hand, and chewed on the straw as he pondered: “I want to live forever. Can you make that happen?”
Lan Bo pursed his lips and stared silently at the water’s surface.
“No, no, don’t take it so seriously. I was just joking.” Bai Chunian leaned in close to Lan Bo’s cheek and kissed the corner of his lips.
“I’ll spend a hundred years figuring it out,” Lan Bo said.
His calm voice was filled with certainty, possessing a soothing power.
——
Meanwhile, at the headquarters of Research Institute 109.
Elaine sat wearily at her computer, propping her head in her hand. Consecutive all-nighters had deepened the dark circles under her eyes, and faint fine lines had begun to appear at the corners.
The AI assistant named “Deng” emitted a warm, male-sounding synthesized voice: “Hello, Professor Xiao Yang has returned.”
“Let him in.”
The office door slowly slid open. Xiao Yang walked in wearing a white researcher’s uniform, his hands in his pockets, with two ballpoint pens tucked into the breast pocket.
“Well?” Aileen lazily brushed a strand of hair from her face.
“The peaceful paradise of the past hundred years has finally fallen into ruin,” Xiao Yang said with a faint smile. “Such is the fate of the Lingti Clan; there is nothing I can do about it.”
Aileen lifted her eyelids, her piercing gaze fixing on Xiao Yang. “You’ve really disappointed me. Is this how you handle the task I entrusted to you?!”
She grabbed a stack of reports on the Lingti Clan factory explosion from the table and hurled them at Xiao Yang with force.
Xiao Yang remained unmoved. Only after Ailian had calmed down did he speak in a detached tone: “Who is Lin Deng? Do we look alike?”
Ailian was momentarily at a loss for words, her delicate brows furrowed. “Who told you that?”
Xiao Yang retorted, “ “Your AI is named Deng, your robotic secretary is named Deng, every test subject you’ve created resembles Deng, and you’ve kept me by your side because I resemble Deng too, is that right?”
Aileen stared at him coldly, offering no reply.
Xiao Yang smiled. “You don’t love me. You should have said so sooner; it would have saved me the trouble of flattery.”
“Xiao Yang.”
“You should be worried about the institute’s future supply issues, Professor Aileen.” Xiao Yang curled the corners of his lips, mocking her as if he were watching a spectacle. “Without enough monolenin raw materials, we can’t produce finished pharmaceuticals. With funding cut off, how are we supposed to keep operations running? Luckily, that’s all for you to worry about.”
“That Bai Chunian—he took down my Gagantel in an instant without even using his A3 ability. And his handler is no pushover either. How are we supposed to deal with a pair of test subjects like that?” Xiao Yang coughed. Blood seeped from the bullet hole beneath his white uniform, soaking through the fabric and staining it red.
Elaine tapped the table lightly. “We’ll find a way to deal with them. They have a treasure in my possession; they won’t give up easily.”