After receiving 07, Song Jin realized what Song Yang meant by “you can’t just give this to anyone.”

Although the battle suit wasn’t a brand-new weapon developed in the last few years, in the field of micro-precision weaponry, it still represented Shengya’s highest technological standard. Because the special metal required for its construction was so scarce in Shengya, the production cost remained prohibitively high, making it impossible to mass-produce for the military. To date, only a select few—including his older brother—possessed one.

Song Jin had assumed he would have to achieve much greater accomplishments before earning this gift exclusive to him.

07’s left forearm casing opened, handing a small metal box to Song Jin. “This is the master chip. It needs to be implanted into the master’s brain to proceed to the next activation step.”

Song Jin opened it. It looked somewhat like a contact lens case and included a bottle of liquid.

“Do you know how? I can help you implant it,” 07 offered, thoughtfully performing an eyelid-pulling motion.

Song Jin: “……No need.”

He didn’t know if it was fully activated yet, but 07 didn’t seem entirely “smart” yet. What if it accidentally poked his eyeball out?

“I’ll help you,” Li Xiao said, signaling Song Jin to sit down while he went to wash his hands.

Song Jin: “Why are you being so eager?”

Li Xiao: “Curiosity.”

Song Jin: “……” It’s just for fun, right?

Still, for people like them, it was hard to refuse such a “steel toy.” It was arguably more attractive than the most fragrant omega.

Li Xiao had Song Jin sit in the chair with his head resting on the backrest, retrieving the master chip—which was as thin as paper and the size of a sesame seed. 07, still in its imposing battle suit form, watched nervously, its youthful voice cautioning, “Be gentle when you go in.”

Li Xiao: “……”

“Don’t worry,” Li Xiao said with a straight face. “I won’t hurt him.”

Seeing the playfulness in Li Xiao’s eyes, Song Jin snorted. “Treasure this moment; you won’t get another chance to ‘go in’ later.”

Li Xiao lowered his gaze, meeting Song Jin’s defiant expression and provocative smile. He gently pressed against Song Jin’s eyelid. “Maybe one day you’ll be the one begging me to come inside.”

Song Jin grabbed Li Xiao’s hand, his smile fading as he stared into the other man’s eyes. “Even if that day comes, it will be you begging me to let you in.”

Li Xiao chuckled softly. “I’ll wait for it.”

Song Jin: “……” The dirty scumbag is indeed hard to deal with. He felt like he had lost.

The chip, coated in lubricant, was implanted into the inner corner of his eye, instantly adhering to the eyeball. Song Jin closed his eyes, faintly feeling the device slide into place; the sensation of a foreign object vanished almost immediately. Upon opening his eyes, a virtual operating interface appeared in his vision. Every object in his field of view was labeled with detailed material and volume data. Song Jin looked around and noticed quite a few labels attached to Li Xiao.

[Li Xiao, 18, alpha, Resident of Danse Empire T100, Pheromone level S. Probability of producing high-quality offspring: 99.9%. Suitable as a marriage candidate.]

Song Jin: “……” What the hell is that last part?

Beyond that, there was a detailed pheromone spectral chart for Li Xiao, with precision rivaling the best testing equipment in the military academy.

[Master, this is the 007 intelligent control system. Please answer via your intent: proceed with the activation program?]

Song Jin: [Proceed.]

07: [Received!]

The dark blue battle suit rapidly morphed and shrank back into a sphere. It split down the middle like a large mouth, dumping a pile of items into Song Jin’s lap.

Li Xiao was confused. “Did it fall apart?”

Song Jin: “……No.” These must be the ‘new toys’ Big Brother Yang mentioned.

Li Xiao picked up a small metal ball, discovering it was similar to the electromagnetic bombs Song Jin had used in N2533. After dumping the items, 07 continued to rotate, shifting between various types of firearms before returning to its spherical state.

07: “Basic program activated successfully. Over the next three days, I will proactively adjust my programming to suit your preferences, helping you sweep the battlefield and trample Danse!”

Li Xiao: “……”

Song Jin suppressed a laugh. “Very good. First, update your language database and switch to modern vernacular.”

07 fell silent for a moment. “But Brother 01 said you like the ‘chuunibyou’ style. I specifically had it help me set it that way before leaving.”

Song Jin: “You believe that old slicker?”

07: “……” Hasty.

Song Jin had 07 switch to normal mode, and the labels in his vision vanished instantly. More than the weapon functions, he was eager to test 07’s detection capabilities. Tossing the dozens of small balls into a drawer, Song Jin grabbed Li Xiao and walked out. “Let’s get to work.”

Back in the medical ward, Song Jin summoned Qin Le. “Did Liu Cheng give you any new blood samples?”

Qin Le glanced at 07, who was following them, and nodded. “Yes, five vials were brought over in the last two days. Haven’t been tested yet.”

Song Jin: “Give them to me.”

They used three different methods: Li Xiao’s identification, 07’s scanning, and lab analysis. The results were identical—one of the vials contained the “problem” blood. Looking at the five reports, Song Jin ordered 07: “Go test all the exchange students. Remember, don’t let anyone notice you.”

“Received!”

07 spun, its surface simulating the surrounding environment until it became invisible. As it flew toward the door, it paused and looked at Li Xiao. “Can you see me?”

Li Xiao: “Yes.”

07: “？？？” Did the stealth fail?

Li Xiao added, “Those people with the problems can also see you. If you go out like this, you’ll be exposed immediately.”

07: “……”

A moment later, 07 transformed into a small bumblebee and wobbled out of the office, prioritizing “taking advice.”

Song Jin turned to Li Xiao. “Once it detects the problematic individuals, I need you to cooperate with me for a re-test.”

Li Xiao: “My reward?”

Song Jin: “Name it.”

Li Xiao: “What are you planning to do with those twenty-four exchange students?”

From Shengya’s perspective, returning them as they were was the path of least resistance. But from Li Xiao’s perspective, sending them back like that was too dangerous; once these people knew that pheromone control couldn’t kill him, they would find other ways.

Song Jin: “You want to kill them?” Though he asked, his tone was certain.

Li Xiao wanted to, but the timing wasn’t right. Eliminating them all at once would only raise suspicions among the higher-ups back home, potentially hindering his brother’s strategic plans.

“I actually have a way,” Song Jin said.

Li Xiao: “What way?”

Song Jin started walking out. “Follow me.”

The 320 brawl incident quickly reached the Ministries of Foreign Affairs of both nations. By midnight, a war of words erupted. By the next day, the situation escalated fully. Danse demanded that their own medical staff be allowed into the quarantine zone and that they be permitted to send a special team to the military academy to investigate. Shengya bluntly stated that due to the high number of people involved and the scope of the incident, it was inconvenient for Danse to intervene. Both sides argued for a full day, neither willing to yield.

#First Military Academy Student Attacked in Shengya# climbed to the top of the internet trending charts. The first to report it was an authoritative media outlet from the Danse capital star.

[Military cadets viciously attacked in Shengya! According to reliable sources, cadets were subjected to a large-scale attack at the Central Military Academy. Currently, twenty-five cadets are missing; their life or death is unknown!]

The post also thoughtfully provided a background on the prestige of the Central Military Academy. The comments below were heated.

“What did I say? Sending military cadets to Shengya was the biggest mistake!”

“Shengya did this on purpose! Those missing children are all future generals!”

“The royal family has been failing since the last generation, relying entirely on families like the Mengs to save face.”

“And they still want diplomatic ties? I suggest sending the Meng Army to trample Shengya!”

Online public opinion intensified. The Danse Ministry of Foreign Affairs posted an update stating they attached great importance to the matter and were actively communicating with Shengya, promising real-time updates.

Top comment: “TL;DR—We are furious. Release them, apologize, and pay compensation!”

The Shengya Ministry of Foreign Affairs followed suit, stating that the rhetoric online was pure rumor, that the incident was under investigation, and they hoped the Danse side would wait patiently for a satisfactory explanation.

Top comment: “TL;DR—Stop the nonsense and get lost!”

Both ministries broke from their usual diplomatic reserve, posting multiple updates in a single day. Media analysts suggested that if tensions continued to rise, they might actually go to war. Some hacker organizations invaded Shengya’s network, self-proclaiming themselves the “vanguard” and threatening to paralyze the internet if Shengya didn’t hand over the people and apologize.

At the Central Military Academy, a group of hot-blooded students saw the news and were furious. “Trample us? Take a look at your own weight!” In the cafeteria, Qian Can grumbled, looking at Dabe across the table. “Where do you Danse people get your confidence?”

Dabe’s expression was grim. “Why is the academy locking them up and not letting anyone see them?”

Qian Can put down his chopsticks. “Didn’t the announcement say? They were attacked by pheromones and are undergoing quarantine; visitation isn’t allowed.”

Dabe: “That’s what they say, but it’s all one-sided. No one knows what actually happened.”

Qian Can frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

The atmosphere at the table turned volatile. Jiang Hao finished his meal silently, sending the online news and the academy’s recent situation to Li Xiao. Qian Can and Dabe continued their confrontation, tapping Jiang Hao. “Xiao Jiang, come judge who is right!”

Seeing they were both upset, Jiang Hao said calmly, “The food is getting cold. Argue after you eat.”

Qian Can: “……”

Dabe: “……” You really do have the face of an outsider.

In Danse, a group of sheltered aristocrats couldn’t sleep. The Meng family held several secret meetings. The conference table was louder than a vegetable market.

Meng Zai exhaled a cloud of smoke, his expression dark. “Shengya may have discovered the truth and is holding that group captive.”

On a virtual screen, a General with his back to the camera said: “When you wanted to send so many people over, I opposed it. Who listened? Shengya has experience in dealing with modified Omegas; they would find out easily.”

Another unseen Lieutenant General replied: “But the ones Lin Quan created back then were at best ‘seconds’; they can’t be compared to ours. They shouldn’t be detectable by Shengya’s testing methods.”

A deep female voice came from an all-black virtual screen: “Perhaps their assassination attempt on Li Xiao was discovered, leading to everyone being detained for interrogation? The current narrative is that Shengya suspects an omega went into heat. Let’s not lose our heads.”

Meng Zai stubbed out his cigarette, his movements aggressive. “We can’t even confirm if Li Xiao is dead.”

At the head of the table, Meng Jian was silent for a long time. “Continue to pressure the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, ramp up online public opinion, and discuss our next move once we see what Shengya does.”

In the isolation medical center, Li Xiao looked through the news. After the incident caused a stir in Danse, Shengya also reported on it, and netizens from both countries spent the day tearing each other apart. One social platform was even controlled by hackers, flooded with red text screaming “Trample Shengya, blood for blood.”

Li Xiao opened his terminal’s keyboard, his slender fingers moving rapidly. Layers of screens flickering with code popped up. Within minutes, the social platform returned to normal.

The door opened. Li Xiao saw Song Jin enter, looking exhausted. “Two days without sleep—not tired yet?”

“So concerned about me?”

Song Jin rubbed his brow, sitting down to close his eyes. Testing 07’s accuracy and comparing the physical data of every exchange student to ensure nothing was missed took more time than he had. He had originally assumed that with an outsider like Li Xiao here, it would be impossible to sleep. But whether it was true exhaustion or something else, Song Jin fell into a deep sleep the moment he closed his eyes.

When Li Xiao finished his work and looked up, he realized Song Jin hadn’t moved for a long time. The kid had fallen asleep against the sofa. Li Xiao grabbed a thin blanket and covered him quietly. The little lion is usually arrogant, domineering, and acts like a stuck-up brat, but he doesn’t drop the ball when it matters. When he’s busy, he acts like his life doesn’t matter.

A knock sounded. A black-clad beta entered, about to speak, but stopped when Li Xiao made a “hush” gesture. The beta hesitated, then noticed Song Jin had woken up.

“What is it?” Song Jin turned his head.

Beta: “Every exchange student’s terminal is receiving numerous video call requests. Should we keep the block in place?”

Song Jin asked Li Xiao: “What do you think?”

“Let’s test one first.” Li Xiao thought for a moment and asked the beta, “Has anyone contacted Wei Ming today?”

Beta: “Yes, his father, Wei Yuan, has been calling frequently.”

Li Xiao: “If he calls again, let Wei Ming answer.”

The beta’s terminal vibrated—a new list of incoming calls. “Wei Yuan is calling again.”

“Let’s go take a look.” Song Jin stood up, the blanket sliding to the floor. He couldn’t help but look at Li Xiao. “You covered me?”

Li Xiao: “Happy?”

Song Jin walked out with him. “Very virtuous. Deeply appreciated.”

Li Xiao: “……” Did 07 assimilate him in just one day?

Danse Empire, Sky-Fall Sector.

Wei Yuan was so anxious that blisters had formed on his mouth. He couldn’t reach Wei Ming, and when he sought Meng Jian, he was scolded into the ground. At least the news was filled with the military academy incident, which had successfully buried his own scandals—a small consolation.

Pacing the room, Wei Yuan called Wei Ming again. This time, after a while, it was answered. A young man wearing an isolation mask and a white coat appeared on the virtual screen.

“Hello.”

Wei Yuan shouted hoarsely, “I want to see my son! It’s been two days—is he dead or alive?! What are you people trying to do?!”

“Just a moment.” The man checked the control system for a second. “Wei Ming’s condition has stabilized and he is ready for visitation. I will transfer you.”

Wei Yuan’s eyes flashed; his heart jumped into his throat. They’re actually letting me see him?!

The man took the terminal to the ward and handed it to Wei Ming. “Your father’s call.” He turned and left.

Through the screen, Wei Yuan saw his son for the first time in days. Aside from wearing a hospital gown and looking a bit low-energy, there was nothing unusual. The equipment beside the bed was standard medical gear.

“Can you talk freely?” Wei Yuan asked nervously.

Wei Ming nodded. “There is no eavesdropping equipment here. I’ve checked.”

Wei Yuan lowered his voice. “What happened that night?! Why did all of you end up inside?!”

Wei Ming frowned and lowered his head. “I had the situation under control, but I was affected by someone else’s pheromones, which caused my heat period to trigger early. When I woke up, I was already in the medical center.”

“So, you didn’t succeed?” Wei Yuan’s voice turned urgent. “What about Li Xiao? What’s his situation?”

“I had controlled him at the time, but the heat came on too suddenly. Before I lost consciousness, I vaguely saw a lot of guards arriving. He was probably saved.” Wei Ming’s tone was uncertain. “Li Xiao is too vigilant; it’s hard to find a suitable opportunity.”

Wei Yuan slammed his hand on the table. “Useless! Can’t even handle a small task like this!”

In the opposite office, Li Xiao and Song Jin were monitoring the video call.

“The effect seems good,” Song Jin said coldly.

Li Xiao: “Could also be a performance.”

Song Jin: “Very low probability. This time, we used the most advanced hypnotic techniques combined with drugs and electric shocks. We can completely alter memories; as long as there are no logical conflicts, the subject won’t even realize it.”

Li Xiao looked at him. “Do you use these methods often?”

Song Jin was indifferent. “It’s not some special technique. I don’t believe your side doesn’t use them.”

Li Xiao looked innocent. “I’m just a commoner; I wouldn’t know.”

Song Jin suddenly thought of something and leaned in. “Almost forgot. In your world, don’t you guys prefer chopping off fingers and gouging out kidneys?”

Li Xiao: “Children shouldn’t ask so many questions.”

Song Jin scoffed with an expression that said, ‘You really are a dirty scumbag.’

Li Xiao: “……” Forget it. A scumbag is a scumbag.

The social platform had finished issuing its accident report, stating they had been attacked by multiple hacker organizations and were investigating. The way Danse hackers operated was distinct from those in Shengya, catching them off guard—but just as they were at their wit’s end, another hacker named ‘LIX’ appeared and wiped out the previous wave of attackers.

Simultaneously, on the Danse network, the most notorious hacker organization, ‘NES’, had their social accounts seemingly hacked. A new post was pinned, with eerie content.

[NES is very sorry for inciting hatred toward the royal family and stirring up conflicts between our nations. We sincerely apologize to the netizens of both countries. Half an hour from now, NES will voluntarily disband. —LIX]

As soon as the post was released, it ignited all platforms. #MysteriousLIX# shot up the search rankings. At first, no one believed NES would disband, but half an hour later, the homepage exposed the detailed personal data of NES’s core hackers—practically stripping them bare.

While everyone was still discussing who this mysterious LIX was, several videos were released under the LIX topic. One video showed Wei Ming stumbling through a corridor, appearing to be security footage. Wei Ming’s face was flushed, his legs shaky—clear symptoms of a heat period. The timestamp in the corner read: Saturday, 7:12 PM. Subsequent videos showed guards chasing students; there were scuffles, but no gunfire, and eventually, the students were subdued.

The uploader claimed to be a student at the Shengya Central Military Academy.

[Please stop the conspiracy theories. The truth is simple: this Danse omega went into heat unexpectedly, affecting a group of alphas nearby and triggering a group brawl. Everyone was subdued by guards and sent to the hospital.]

The post triggered a wave of public opinion in both countries. Tech experts analyzed the authenticity of the video and confirmed it was genuine. On Monday at 8:00 PM, the Shengya Ministry of Foreign Affairs released the investigation results, which matched the videos exactly, adding that if the students agreed, they could be sent home for recovery at any time.

When Shengya netizens saw it wasn’t their side’s fault, they immediately stood tall and rushed to the Danse network to counter-argue.

“Where are all the people who claimed Shengya was murdering exchange students? Get out here and apologize!”

In the isolation medical center, Li Xiao listened to the records of the twenty-three exchange students’ video calls to their families and reviewed the shifting public opinion.

Meng Jian and his group weren’t just trying to provoke a conflict between the two countries; they were also trying to dump the blame on the Danse royal family. The intent was painfully obvious.

Song Jin sat in a single sofa, organizing data. “With this investigation result, will your side be satisfied?”

Li Xiao: “Of course not.”

Those involved weren’t just ordinary people; they were First Military Academy students, and almost all of them were aristocrats.

Song Jin: “Then what is your next move? I’ll say it up front—Shengya doesn’t eat ‘dumb losses’.”

Li Xiao: “Wait. Someone will come out to bury the matter.”

The people most anxious right now weren’t Shengya, nor were they him. It was the person who sent the modified beings in the first place. Shengya’s handling and the investigation results were full of holes and couldn’t withstand scrutiny. That person would inevitably doubt whether Shengya had discovered their secret. Under these circumstances, the sooner the incident ended, the better. If it dragged on, the secret might actually leak.

So, he just needed to wait and see who jumped the hardest—that person would be the mastermind.

As they spoke, Song Jin’s terminal vibrated. Seeing it was his brother, he hurried into the lounge on the side of the office. The video call connected. In the virtual window, Song Yu, dressed in a simple shirt and trousers, was walking by a cornfield. “How is the testing program?”

Song Jin sent him the data he had just finished organizing. “I made minor adjustments over the past two days. Accuracy is currently 100%.”

However, one thing that surprised him after compiling the data was that Li Xiao’s sense of smell was actually comparable to 07’s. He even doubted that if he sliced open Li Xiao’s skin, he’d find a robot underneath.

As Song Yu was reviewing the data, Song Jin asked casually, “Was it you who asked Brother Yang to send me the battle suit?”

Regulated weapons like battle suits couldn’t just be handed out to anyone; the requirements for users were extremely strict. He had asked his brother for one when he was a child, but his brother was afraid he’d “slaughter the palace” and kept saying he had to wait until he was eighteen and see how he performed.

Song Yu didn’t deny it. “The investigation into the modified beings is dangerous. I sent it in advance due to that consideration. It is absolutely not a wedding gift.”

Song Jin: “……Did you even need to say that?”

Song Yu: “I heard you mention before that Li Xiao’s pheromones can break mental control?”

Song Jin nodded: “I don’t know the specific reason yet.”

They had the means for first-generation pheromone detection, and they had found a preliminary method to break mental control.

Song Yu pondered for a moment. “In a few days, bring that kid to the Capital Star.”

Song Jin was surprised. “You want to see him?”

Song Yu watched a group of ants crawling up a corn stalk. “Even though the bugs are next door, keeping them around is bothersome.”

After hanging up, Song Jin felt a bit uneasy.

While the online arguments were at their peak, a Shengya royal spokesperson suddenly announced that the Emperor attached great importance to the student injury incident. To express their apologies, they decided to join with various universities to host a “Friendship Competition” on the Capital Star. Danse exchange students wouldn’t need to compete for spots; everyone could participate.

Tuesday at noon, Song Jin and Li Xiao prepared to leave the isolation zone. Seeing Li Xiao’s calm expression—completely devoid of the joy one would expect when a goal was finally reached—Song Jin tentatively asked: “Finally able to see him, not happy?”

It was an expected outcome. What was there to be happy about?

Li Xiao replied nonchalantly, “I’m going to see my son, not going on a blind date.”

Song Jin’s eyes narrowed, his strike fast as lightning.

Li Xiao stepped back to dodge. “I just recovered from a serious illness—why are you hitting me?”

Song Jin: “Sweating will make you recover faster.”

Li Xiao: “……”