Tomorrow was Monday.
At most, they could only take one day off.
If they didn’t return soon, every side would start moving, and things would only get more troublesome.

The two of them waited in the hotel until 8 p.m., when Yin Rong finally returned.

One look at his face, and Rong Shi knew things hadn’t gone well.

“No discovery.” Yin Rong rubbed his tired brow. “He went to the Omega Rights Association branch, gave a regular lecture, visited a few poor families. By the time I came back, he had already returned to his hotel. He plans to leave tomorrow morning.”

Song Yu closed his book and stood. “Such an itinerary—obvious he strung you along.”

Rong Shi sat across from Yin Rong. “Maybe they received word too, changed plans last minute, putting on a show for you.”

“If nothing else works, we’ll need to investigate one district at a time,” Yin Rong frowned. “But I fear, done that way, we’ll find nothing.”

The undersea base had already revealed to Rong Shi the enemy’s level of technology. A breeding base wouldn’t be any weaker.

If it was easily detectable, the stationed military’s monitoring systems would have discovered it long ago.

[01: Confirmed no abnormal signs.]

“Tomorrow once he leaves, we’ll go take another look.” Rong Shi stood, then asked suddenly, “Have you eaten yet?”

Yin Rong looked up at him instinctively, then toward Song Yu, then back again.
“You mean… me?”

Rong Shi’s expression was flat. “Who else?”

“… Haven’t eaten.”

Five minutes later, Yin Rong was at the dining table, four dishes and a soup set before him, fragrant and inviting.

Rong Shi brought out the last freshly heated plate and set it down, then took the seat diagonal from him.

“I made an extra portion, for you.”

Chopsticks in hand, Yin Rong froze. “Th-thank you.”

He could meet the king without nerves, but now he was actually tongue‑tied with tension!

“Is it good?” Rong Shi asked mildly.

Mouth full, Yin Rong could only nod repeatedly.

“Then eat more.”

“…”

Such a commonplace courtesy, but somehow Rong Shi’s voice was too cold, too still—carrying an undertone like he might add, ‘eat your fill before hitting the road.’

Song Yu came over holding a small teapot. “Uncle Yin, at your age, still working field missions? Father really has no one else to use? Here, it’s not good tea, but make do. You’ve worked hard.”

Overwhelmed, Yin Rong quickly accepted. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

He had barely sipped when Song Yu remarked, “I already added Salt Star’s grade‑3 tribute salt. The taste will be exquisite.”

“Cough—cough—” Yin Rong choked, coughing violently, kidneys aching from the salt. “How much salt did you put?!”

Song Yu sat opposite, directly across from Rong Shi. “Not much. Only… one jar.”

“…”

“Tribute salt?” Rong Shi propped his chin in one hand, gazing idly. “Funny, that was exactly the same habit as my late father.”

Yin Rong’s shoulders stiffened. “……”

“What a coincidence,” Song Yu murmured.

“You shouldn’t dump in a whole jar,” Rong Shi continued coolly. “Just three grains per pot. More than that covers the tea’s flavor.”

Song Yu, head propped as well, sighed lazily. “Uncle Yin used to say that too. Blame my bad memory—I forgot.”

“…”

“My father used to complain he could never find a kindred tea‑drinking friend,” Rong Shi went on. “If he were still alive, no doubt he’d love to drink with Uncle Yin. Shame he died so early.”

“……”

Suddenly, the meal didn’t taste so good anymore.

His instincts had been right. This really was these two brats staging a bloody Feast at Hongmen for him.

Forcing down his food, Yin Rong gave a hollow smile. “Yes, what a pity.”

__

The next day, once news came that Ji Ling was departing, Rong Shi and Song Yu donned their disguises and left with Yin Rong.

The moment the two stepped into the hotel’s ground floor lobby, they drew every eye.

“We forgot something,” Song Yu muttered lowly to Rong Shi, catching the startled looks.

“What?” Rong Shi asked doubtfully.

A sly smile. “A fat gold chain.”

“….”

Rong Shi’s gaze slid up and down his partner’s elegant high‑end get‑up and automatically imagined him, neck weighed down with a thick golden chain—

No. Destroy level. Not to be thought of.

Yin Rong, watching them whisper: “……”

---

First stop: the Snow Swallow District’s Omega Rights Association branch.

Outside, snow fell thick. Wrapped in a mink coat, Rong Shi stood across the street gazing at the entrance.

The organization had started as a grassroots group, later unified by the First Queen, created to protect omegas oppressed in that era and win them relative fairness.

Under her management, it grew legitimate and institutionally entrenched, with branches across the Empire, closely tied to the royal family and military‑government systems.

“Looks crowded,” Song Yu said, stepping from the car to stand beside him. “Shall we go inside?”

“Mn.”

Yin Rong poked his head out the window, voicing silently: Don’t make trouble.

Song Yu waved a hand, calling aloud, “Rest assured, Uncle! We’ll definitely help you get your runaway wife back!”

Passersby instantly glanced over, many eyes landing on Yin Rong full of subtle pity.

“……”

Inside, the center was vast, decor minimal yet not cheap.

Rong Shi’s gaze swept the stairwell rising upstairs. Looked like ordinary metal, but he knew: special bullet‑resistant alloy. Each step worth millions.

Through the 01/00 link, he sent: 

[Taxpayer money turned into staircases for them.]

Song Yu: “……”

[If even a little more of that funding went to the military, the legions wouldn’t be broke.]

Song Yu thought of those two massive starships bankrupting hard‑lined generals—and fell silent.

[Once I oust that useless king, I’ll rewrite the rules.]

“…You really dare to say anything,” Rong Shi muttered inwardly.

The lobby had no staff, only a row of self‑service machines and five AI workers.

They tried accessing policies. Soon, an AI approached politely. Service wasn’t bad, actually.

[01: 5‑km radius scanned. No anomalies.]

Same result.

“Baby, you stay here and play awhile. Daddy will be back in an hour.”

Rong Shi had been about to leave when his eyes caught a male omega with a five‑or‑six‑year‑old little girl standing by a door.

“Okay, no need to hurry back,” the child chirped.

The man chuckled, scanning his terminal. The door opened. The child bounced happily inside.

Rong Shi’s gaze flicked to the wall display: Daycare Center.

He slid his hand over his terminal.

[01: Re‑scanning—heat reactions 20… 35… 60… total 83!]
[00: Detecting—door fitted with anti‑scan coating. Once closed, linked to metal walls, activates automatically.]

Again, blocked.

[Beyond personnel, any issues?]

[01/00: Nothing else so far.]

Back in the car, both men wore grim expressions.

“How was it?” Yin Rong asked, starting the vehicle.

“Not good,” Rong Shi replied.

Hearing their account, Yin Rong’s face sank.

“I had people check too. Adults can’t enter the daycare, only children. Inside, it’s just a playground. Nothing unusual.”

Song Yu shed his coat. “If it’s all made of that material, we’ll never detect it.”

Neither the army nor their AIs could fully penetrate that alloy. And when applied to floors—
Its dread wasn’t only blocking scans, but selective shielding. Even manual filtering of data would show nothing odd.

“Let’s check every branch one by one.” Rong Shi opened 203’s sketches again.

After touring three more branches, all results were the same.

“This defense is like an iron barrel. No way in,” Song Yu muttered irritably in the car.

Breaking through directly would only spook them. Without concrete data first, it would be like letting the fish slip free.

“No defense is flawless,” Rong Shi murmured, then froze on the second‑to‑last drawing.

No windows. Filled with flowers. A greenhouse.

Beneath it, 203 had scribbled:
[Every day after lunch, I like to come here, look at flowers, listen to the sound of music, enjoy twenty minutes of peace.]

“Music?” Rong Shi turned sharply. “Didn’t we hear—”

He stopped, gaze falling entirely on his beautiful cat.

Inside the warm car, layers of fur coat were awkward. Song Yu had shrugged his open, the cloth loose, sleeve hanging. Underneath: tightly buttoned high collar, throat mostly hidden.

Yet somehow, it was languid and sensual.

Cup lifted, Song Yu tilted his head and saw him staring. He dropped his eyes to himself, then smiled wickedly.

“So—it turns out you like this kind of look?”

Rong Shi wordlessly smacked his cat’s backside.

“Sit properly. Either take it off or wear it right.”

“You prudish bunny,” Song Yu chuckled.

“……” Too pretty a wife, always derailing serious business.

Up front, Yin Rong coughed. “We’re arriving. Prepare.”

They took seats in a café neighboring the next branch, sending a child in “by chance” to the daycare, with AI scanning at the instant the door opened.

A moment later, report came: same as before.

Song Yu slammed his cup down, restless. “Still the same damn thing!”

Days spent circling branches, and nothing to show. Infuriating.

Yin Rong sipped his coffee silently, realizing the brats had access to tech he couldn’t fathom.

They stepped outside. Wind and snow carried faint chimes.

“That sound?” Rong Shi glanced where it came from. “A church?”

“Yes,” Yin Rong said. “Two streets over. Every hour, it rings.”

Song Yu exchanged a sharp look with Rong Shi, then asked low: “After the bells—do you ever hear music?”

And as if responding, twelve tolls ended, and sure enough, faint crystalline notes drifted on the air.

Rong Shi’s brows knotted. He ordered 01 and 00 at once to scan in full.

They hurried back to the car, activated shared view.

The church loomed, its roof piled with snow—but the bell tower gleamed clean.

As the deep tolls finished, the cylindrical tower’s outer walls shifted. Semi‑transparent alloy plates peeled open like fish scales, each exposing a tiny copper bell beneath.

Thousands of bells rang together in the storm, notes bright and layered—exactly like music.

[01/00: Found something!]
[Scanning full layout—dividing into left/right segments—map rendering 10%… 15%… 25%…]

The bells lasted thirty seconds. In that time the schematic formed—and confirmed Rong Shi’s suspicion.

Underground bases sealed in alloys needed ventilation. Simply growing plants was no answer. Even top systems failed in vacuum without intakes.

The only option: shafts connected to the surface, opening periodically. Safe, reliable, keeping underground lives sustainable.

The music cut off, walls snapped shut.

[Scan interrupted—result 99.9% complete]

“That’s enough,” Rong Shi said.

[01: I worked myself to death for that! Waist thinned three sizes T﹏T]
[00: Mine too.]

Song Yu inserted the finished schematic into his terminal. “We’ll treat you both to a feast later.”

[01: Yesss! Thanks, sugar daddy!]
[00: Thank you, master.]

Activating autopilot, Yin Rong turned to the back. Seeing Song Yu project the virtual map, his pupils shrank.

“This is—?”

“The base’s blueprint,” Rong Shi said calmly.

Yin Rong narrowed his eyes. “How did you even do this?”

Rong Shi briefly explained 203’s sketches. “Send your men to check the church tower, but be cautious. They’ll guard every ventilation shaft.”

“Every ventilation shaft?” Yin Rong picked up the word. “You mean, there’s more than one base?”

Song Yu shrank the map, overlaid it on Snow Star’s terrain. He spoke casually, but his voice was icy:
“This will be fun.”

No need to explain. Yin Rong saw clearly—the underground base covered the district entire! Except for civic drainage, every unused expanse had been hollowed out!

“Perhaps the whole planet—” He cut himself short, stunned. The result was too dreadful.

Rong Shi’s heart was heavy.

Such defenses—in the previous life, without 01 and 00’s future‑tech, how long would it have taken to uncover? How much risk?

If, in the end, his little cat ascended the throne—then what of his father? What became of them…?

He pushed the thought away.

Then warmth touched his lips. He turned. Song Yu had kissed him lightly.

“Don’t worry. We’ll solve it.” Those sharp eyes softened, arms encircling him. In his ear, gentle words: “We’ll cure Mianmian’s illness too. I’ll find a way.”

Rong Shi froze—emotion surging dangerously near collapse.

The little mad cat’s rare tenderness was… too much to withstand.

---

Author’s Note:
Rong Bunny: Here, eat.
Song Cat: Here, drink.
Yin Rong: …
Bunny & Cat: Eat and drink, then hit the road.
Yin Rong: ………
#What underworld brat have I run into?#