“Is it you—?”

Rong Shi’s expression changed sharply, the finger on his trigger twitching.

No one would look kindly on the person who likely caused their death.

Before the rescued boy could feel a shred of relief, the sudden change on the man’s face scared him into shuffling back a few steps.

“B‑brother, I—I’m not a bad person—”

This man had just saved him, but now the boy wasn’t sure if the other would shoot him.

[01: Master, a team is 300 meters behind and closing in!]
[01: Master?]
[01: Master? Q_Q]

The warning sounded again and again, but all of Rong Shi’s attention was fixed on the omega’s face.

He could never recall the features of the omega whose pheromones had matched his 100% in his previous life—but his body still remembered that near‑loss of control.

His gut told him—this was the one.

“What are you dithering for?” Song Yu strode over and grabbed his wrist. “Move first.”

Rong Shi didn’t budge. He raised his gun, sighting the omega’s forehead, eyes like ice.

This one could not live—

Staring down the barrel, the omega turned ashen, his jaw trembling too hard to form words, his body racked with sudden coughs.

“Gege?” Song Yu glanced at the boy on the ground, surprised.

When had Rong Shi ever, unprovoked, decided to kill someone?

Who was this kid, really?

Footsteps drifted from afar. Rong Shi’s face stayed dark, but his finger wouldn’t pull the trigger.

The omega looked at most 15, skin and bone, with calves thinner than his forearm.

Two steps and he was winded. Once down, he took ages to get up. The coughing wouldn’t stop.

Too much like Mian Mian.

“Go!” Not knowing what he was doing, Song Yu yanked his arm and dragged him behind a large tree.

Hearing the movement, the omega forgot about the gun at his head and scrambled to flee, as if the people chasing him were a threat worse than a bullet between the eyes.

“Run, go on—let’s see where you run to.”

Three betas in camo closed in, each loaded with two compact pistols, a stun baton, and a rifle.

The omega couldn’t run; not 100 meters later he went down hard again.

Seeing him fall, the three didn’t hurry. The leader’s mouth curled in a nasty smile as he sauntered up.

“They didn’t tell you on the way over?”

He savored the kid’s terror and drawled, “This is a level‑4 danger zone. Mutants everywhere. They’ll eat you to the bone. Even if you slip out without being seen, you won’t live anyway. Got it?”

Lips pressed tight, the omega crab‑walked backward, crying as he begged, “P‑please, let me go. I can’t take it anymore; I really can’t—”

“Why waste breath?” Another beta snapped, impatient. “He’s run twice already. Not like he’s some high‑grade product. What a waste of time—making us miss our drinks.”

“Spell it out so he doesn’t try a third time,” the first beta said, stepping in to grab the boy’s collar.

“No!” The omega thrashed violently, screaming, “I won’t go back!”

“That’s not up to you.” The beta hauled him up by the collar.

Stung, the omega flailed with hands and feet.

His nail raked the beta’s cheek.

“Little brat!” The beta, enraged, slapped him.

The boy’s head snapped to the side; he nearly blacked out as a livid welt rose on his pallid face.

Up in the branches, Rong Shi and Song Yu crouched, ringed by 01 like a steel bucket, its shell mimicking the surroundings in flawless camouflage.

“Looks like this is the place,” Song Yu murmured, close enough that only two people could hear.

“Mm.” Rong Shi’s brow stayed furrowed.

Suddenly, the air thickened with a rich scent—magnolia laced with tea’s bitterness.

Song Yu’s focus slipped for a beat before he steadied and snorted. “They’re all betas. Pheromone attacks won’t do a thing.”

Whether this was an illegal omega holding site or a base tied to “super‑omega” modification, it was a gross violation of Imperial law.

They’d found it—so it had to be dismantled.

Half a beat passed with no reply. Song Yu eyed the scene below. “Do we tail them to the base—or pull the omega out and squeeze him for intel?”

Then a harsh reek of liquor burst through his airway—odorless yet tyrannical—drowning out the omega’s pheromones, needling his nerves and scattering his focus.

He turned to Rong Shi—face sinking. “You okay?!”

Sweat soaked Rong Shi’s fringe. Jaw clenched, he fought to control his breathing as his vision wavered.

“I’m fine,” he said quietly.

Still fronting?! Song Yu braced him and flicked a hard glance at the omega, his eyes turning cold and vicious.

Below, rats burst from the brush as the beta in camo dragged the boy back.

“Annoying,” the team lead grunted. “Quickly—finish them off. We can still catch the last sip.”

“Nothing good ever comes of stepping out.”

“What was I thinking, taking a job in this godforsaken hole?”

The other two shouldered their rifles and raked the rats with fire, grumbling.

“It’s all for—mmph!”

The team lead stood under the tree, the omega dangling from his grip. His vision blurred; before he could react, consciousness left him.

Hanging by his legs from a branch, Song Yu twisted the beta’s neck, dropped cleanly, and landed.

Spent, the omega hit the dirt like mud and didn’t move.

Song Yu caught his arm and hauled him up, then had 00 form a gland‑guard collar that locked around the boy’s neck.

00: Maximized filtration engaged.
“Mm,” Song Yu replied.

Betas can’t react to omega pheromones—but they can smell them.

The scent cut off suddenly. The other two betas glanced over, suspicious.

“Who’s there?!”

On sighting Song Yu, they swung their rifles—but he was faster: he seized a barrel, shoved it aside, and slashed his long leg across a neck, rolling through with the motion.

Reflex pulled the trigger—the deflected muzzle lined up on the other beta.

Crack.

The second beta took a round in the heart and dropped.

Almost in the same breath, the first beta took a brutal shot to the neck, slammed into the ground, and blacked out.

Song Yu steadied. From first move to finish—under a minute, without a change in breath.

Two remaining rats lunged. Song Yu scooped the omega and slipped behind a trunk.

Blood drew the rats; they swarmed the fallen betas and fed greedily.

As the rats chewed through the bodies, erasing ballistic traces, Song Yu raised his gun to finish them—just as Rong Shi dropped from the tree.

Catching the sweep of his gaze toward the omega, Song Yu’s face hardened. He stepped back, wary. “You’re not touching him.”

Rong Shi’s mouth tightened to a line; he retreated two steps in silence.

01: Master, 10‑man patrol at your 7 o’clock, closing! Likely a security sweep.

At the alert, Rong Shi rubbed his brow and drew a steadying breath. “Anywhere we can hide nearby?”

01: Cave 1,000 meters at your 4 o’clock.

Before the patrol arrived, the two headed for the cave, one leading and one bringing up the rear.

With just the two of them, 01 and 00 could cloak them well enough. With an unconscious omega in tow, running and hiding as‑is wasn’t practical.

They also had questions for him—urgent ones.

Midway, they ran into another rat pack.

Song Yu slit the omega’s arm with his combat knife, stripped off his jacket, and tossed it into the swarm.

The bloody cloth was shredded at once.

Leaving two or three rats alive by intent, they slipped into the caverns.

The cave was small but labyrinthine. Song Yu carried the boy deeper and dumped him in a side chamber.

“Little brother, can you be a cage?” he asked.

A single nanometal core only carries one control chip—however it stretches or shrinks, it can’t split into two objects.

“I, I, I’ll be the cage!”

01 zipped in as a metal sphere and dropped—unfolding into an exceptionally tight cell that locked the omega inside.

“Not bad,” Song Yu said with satisfaction. “Extra meal.”

01: Awoooo! Love you!
On edge, Song Yu didn’t want excess mouths in the cave while Rong Shi was unstable. He turned to leave.

He’d barely taken a step when 00’s cool boyish voice piped up, “Awoo, love you.”

“…What he has, you have,” Song Yu muttered.

00: Love you!
This time, it sounded more sincere.

“…Your begging is getting slick,” Song Yu said under his breath.

Rong Shi stood at the cave mouth, scanning the surrounds.

An island ringed by sea—if there was a spot fit for a base, it was the trees.

Nature’s perfect cover.

He moved back and sat just inside, thinking through his last life’s V99 sweep.

First Legion’s task had been to clear mutants in K1300–P2400 and periodically verify atmospheric units.

At the time, aside from a few pockets with mutant counts above threshold, everything had been “normal.”

Looking back—the assigned range, minus a few pockets, had neatly excluded M80, L100, and Z70.

Someone upstairs had ensured he never checked those three?

Now Qianli was doing the opposite.

Shoving him and Song Yu into a legion he didn’t control—just to have them discover clues during checks of those three areas?

Did he know something?

And Jiang Huai?

How had he infiltrated Second Legion, and why? Why tip him to the base?

The more Rong Shi thought, the more it knotted—no room to think straight.

Footsteps echoed in the cave. He looked up. For a breath, Song Yu’s beautiful face blurred in his sight—then cleared.

Song Yu crouched in front and wiped his sweat. “Better?”

Rong Shi didn’t move, just watched him quietly. “Mm.”

Up close, Song Yu could hear his breathing—short, uneven.

Their eyes met. It stretched like spun sugar, tangling until it wouldn’t break.

Song Yu pressed a hand lightly to his chest.

Normally steady, his heart was hammering—wildly.

“He is, isn’t he?” Song Yu asked softly.

He deliberately dodged the words “100% match.”

Rong Shi closed his hand over Song Yu’s—and answered, very low, “Mm.”

A vat of aged vinegar overturned in an instant—full of pickled chilis—so sour and hot it made Song Yu want to kill.

He knew what it was to be shaken by an omega’s pheromones.

He didn’t know what self‑control it took for Rong Shi to act this composed—however much of it was surface.

A voice in him shouted that Rong Shi would never waver for a stray omega, however perfect the match.

But knowing didn’t conjure security.

He suddenly understood why Rong Shi had tested him with that joking tone the other night.

Even someone like Rong Shi—ever poised, everything in hand—had things he feared.

Only by clinging to their instinct to resist could they love each other.

This path was brutally hard.

“I can never be the omega who’s a 100% match for you,” Song Yu said.

Rong Shi’s gaze flickered; a fingertip twitched.

Before he could speak, Song Yu held his eyes. “But I won’t hand you to anyone. You can only be mine.”

Rong Shi closed both arms and caged him in. “Mm.” He buried his face in Song Yu’s neck, voice low and cool. “I’m yours.”

An enemy base wasn’t a place for drawn‑out tenderness.

Song Yu stayed with him until he felt the frantic heartbeat settle at last—then let out a small breath.

“If you really want to bite—bite me,” he said with a smile. “Your last mark must be fading by now, right?”

At “mark,” Rong Shi’s face didn’t change—but the hand on Song Yu’s shoulder tightened.

“If you’re tempted, bite,” Song Yu murmured.

He saw through the act and worked at the buttons with deft fingers.

He was just about to tug the collar aside when Rong Shi stopped him.

“No need.”

Afraid he’d be misunderstood, he added, “Hurts too much. Once was enough.”

“Really don’t want to? I’m in a rare self‑sacrificing mood.”

“…Stop talking.”

Another word and he’d really lose it.

The tangled look set Song Yu laughing; he leaned on that shoulder and couldn’t stop.

Some of the rabbit’s little principles were foolish in the cutest way.

01/00: Patrol team closing in.

The warning yanked them back.

The island wasn’t big. An omega had bolted; if the searchers didn’t return, someone would notice.

Song Yu had already set the board—but it might need bolder strokes.

If those people were too stupid to see anything, they’d likely sweep the entire island.

“I’ll step out—back soon,” he said, seeing Rong Shi was mostly steady again.

Before he could stand, Rong Shi pulled him back.

Thinking he was worried, Song Yu soothed, “I promise not to kill at random. Ten minutes.”

He waited a beat for the reply.

“Mm. Take 00 with you.”

01’s cage could layer on purification; with or without the collar, it would hold.

It was only a few minutes—Song Yu nodded. “Don’t go near ‘that place,’ understood?”

“I’ll sit right here and wait for you,” Rong Shi said, eyes on him. “Won’t go anywhere.”

Satisfied, Song Yu left with 00 at a brisk pace.

When the last glimpse of him was gone, Rong Shi lowered his gaze and looked aside.

Song Yu’s backpack had been tossed there.

He stared for a while, then reached out, pulled it close, and took out a spare shirt—hugging it to his chest.

The faint scent took the edge off his agitation.

“Xiao Yu—”

01: Master, your heart rate is too high—your pheromone curve is off—way off!
01: Y‑you—you’ve entered susceptibility!

__

Author’s Note:

Bunny Rong: Hey, kitty, when are you coming home?
Cat Song: In tomorrow’s chapter.
Bunny Rong: Mm!
#Can secretly breathe in wife‑scent all day—spins happily#