Reduced to a snack

Yu Chen caught the keyword and let out a laugh. “Empress Dowager?”

Bai Ling looked down at him. “You are the old emperor’s widow, aren’t you?”

“What led you to that conclusion?”

“You have the face of someone fit to be an Empress.”

Yu Chen burst out laughing. “So you’re used to judging people by their looks.”

Bai Ling’s tone was serious. “I’m not judging by looks. It’s just that your appearance perfectly matches Izsu Paraiso’s aesthetic.”

But he had to admit, the previous dynasty’s aesthetic was much better than the current “pale, young, and weak” standard.

He had wondered about that before: how could such a tall, strong omega be in the tyrant’s palace? Now he knew. This man was a relic from the previous dynasty.

Back then, the old emperor, in order to strengthen omegas’ constitutions and increase fertility rates, had promoted an aesthetic standard of health and strength throughout the empire.

Not only were alphas expected to be beautiful and strong, but omegas were also meant to be tough and powerful. Just like this one.

“So, you want the scepter?” Yu Chen asked with great interest.

Bai Ling replied honestly and frankly, “Power. Who doesn’t want it?”

“Then what do you plan to trade for it? I should warn you, I’m not accepting any more fledgling biscuits as payment.”

He had tried to eat that previous biscuit for breakfast and had nearly choked.

Bai Ling pressed his body down, grabbing the golden hair and winding it, wrap by wrap, around his hand, as if tightening his grip on the man’s very life. His expression was cold as he asked:

“I can get you out of here. Give you freedom. Is that enough?”

Yu Chen replied lightly, “And what if I don’t want freedom?”

“I don’t believe you. You’re not the type to be content with the status quo.”

His certainty was so swift it made Yu Chen raise an eyebrow. “Why?”

Bai Ling gave him a sideways glance. “I’ve threatened you repeatedly, but you still keep an unstable element like me around. That’s enough to prove… you’re not content with this quiet life. You want something… exciting. Am I wrong?”

Yu Chen smiled honestly. “You’re very smart.”

His smile was as calm and serene as Ophelia floating in the water. It was beautiful, yes, but held an inexplicable, eerie quality.

The AI, holding a towel, came in and took a sharp intake from its exhaust port, nearly shouting:

No!! The Master is in his rut period! You’ll get pregnant!

Wait, can an android omega lay eggs? …Probably not. Okay, false alarm.

However, when an alpha was in his rut period, he would always display irritability, heavy lust, and craving. His pheromones and aggression would be off the charts. Especially one at his master’s level—once his susceptibility period hit, not even the tyrant dared to approach.

And this little mechanical bird was actually straddling him?

He’d better not get completely railed, only to be dismantled by Master’s bare hands afterward.

It would be dismantled until only the main torso was left, lying on the stained carpet with red, teary optical sensors. It would be crawling with difficulty, picking up its torn wires and screws, all while coldly and stubbornly filling out a compensation form: [Here, and here. This was all damaged by your improper use. Please repair it.] After payment, it would sign the invoice like a vending machine, say ‘Thank you for your purchase,’ and silently offer change…

It was just too tragic!

The little robot looked up. On the fluorescent green virtual screen embedded in the wall, the bright red needle representing the pheromone concentration was already approaching the maximum value a human body could withstand per square meter.

But the bird was completely oblivious. Instead, he pressed on with his negotiations.

“The tyrant wants to force you to hand over the scepter, but I won’t. All I’m looking for is a partnership.”

Bai Ling planned for the long term. Besides killing the tyrant, he had to prepare for the aftermath. He knew clearly that he wasn’t in his prime like in his last life. He had no fleet and no confidants; he was just a lone assassin. Even if he succeeded, he lacked the power to stabilize the massive empire.

But if he could secure the “Empress Dowager” as an asset, all his problems would be solved.

The old dynasty had only fallen ten years ago; there were still plenty of restorationists. With the Empress Dowager, he could use their financial support to pull together a functional leadership team.

It was an obvious path, and a highly feasible one.

Bai Ling sighed. That vagrant’s reading had been accurate after all. Fate didn’t want him to be an Empress; it wanted to send him a former Empress to use as a tool.

Izsu Paraiso, rest assured, he thought. I will take “good care” of your poor, helpless, beautiful widow.

But Yu Chen’s lips curved imperceptibly. He countered, “And what if I don’t agree to this partnership?”

“If you don’t agree…” Bai Ling glimpsed a flash of scales in the dark water below. “Then I wouldn’t mind kidnapping you, locking you in a dark room with no light, chaining you to the bed, and tormenting you day and night.”

“Oh, right.”

He said, picking up the scale from the bottom of the pool. He held it between his fingers, examining its luster with deep meaning. “You have scales, and that magnificent long hair. You wouldn’t happen to be of Merfolk blood, would you? I heard the former Imperial family adored pure-blood Merfolk. If I made you cry… say, a few times every day… could you produce some pearls for me? There are some weapons I’ve been wanting to buy.”

Yu Chen’s expression froze for a moment, then he let out a low laugh.

What a devious little bastard.

He really deserved to be pulled over a knee and taught a lesson for saying something so impertinent.

Bai Ling, however, mistook that laugh for disdain.

His fingers slid slowly over Yu Chen’s smooth, sharp jawline, then suddenly clamped around his throat. Yu Chen grunted. He felt the audacious bird’s hot breath brush his cheek, whispering hatefully into his ear:

“You seemed to enjoy touching me so much in front of Kaide just now. Hmm?”

Yu Chen realized, Ah, so he is holding a grudge. He laughed with his whole chest. “I’m very happy right now, too.”

Happy my ass. Bai Ling’s eyelid twitched. He only felt the air seem to thicken for an instant.

But in the AI’s eyes, in that instant, the pheromone concentration meter shot up like a Geiger counter detecting a nuclear blast, screaming an alarm. On its camera feed, the alpha’s pheromones exploded in a conquering tide of red, sweeping out in all directions with terrifying force.

No omega could have withstood such a savage assault.

The AI looked over. Bai Ling’s taut abdomen first went rigid, then slackened. He collapsed limply, only to be scooped up in one arm by Yu Chen, who had sat up.

It’s over, the AI thought. His electronic components must be fried.

And its master was rising, dripping, from the dimly lit pool. He looked like a newly resurrected demon, his entire being exuding exhaustion and pleasure. He held Bai Ling by the scruff of his neck with one hand, swung a long leg out of the bath, and let go, dropping the man onto the thick carpet at his feet.

“Clean him up. Send him to me.”

The command was concise.

At his feet, Bai Ling pressed his forehead against the cold marble edge of the pool. He coughed twice, his consciousness hazy, then wrapped his arms tightly around his lower abdomen, curling up in discomfort.

Just then, something fell from his clothes and rolled onto the carpet.

The AI picked it up. It was a bottle of medicine.

It looked back at the pool. A piece of paper was floating on the surface, the writing blurred by the water. It was a medical prescription:

[After taking alpha pheromone supplement, prohibit close contact with alphas, or else…]

The rest of the warning sank with the paper to the bottom of the pool.

---

Bai Ling felt like he was walking barefoot through hell.

Hot and cold flashes ran through his veins. A cramping pain spread from his stomach, down through his intestines, and deep into his lower abdomen. It felt as if someone had cut open his reproductive cavity and lit a fire inside. It ached and swelled, unbearable.

This feeling was strange, yet familiar…

In his haze, Bai Ling’s memory returned.

—Because he had soaked in the cold water for too long, his reproductive cavity, the one that had been shot through by a bullet, was now inflamed.

The Waterfowl Empire was an oviparous civilization. Many eggs were laid with unknown parents. These eggs were raised by the state. When they reached their teens, they would differentiate. Lacking parents, many omegas in their early differentiation were targeted. Many got pregnant in high school and were forced to drop out.

Bai Ling had experienced something similar in the army.

The other party hadn’t succeeded, and in his rage, he had shot Bai Ling in the abdomen.

Alphas were few, omegas were scarce. Omegas with outstanding fertility had become a resource to be fought over in secret. This was a well-known fact in the Empire.

But someone had insisted on reversing this trend—the old emperor, Izsu Paraiso. He had ignored the massive wave of protests from the nation’s alphas and used his iron-fisted, high-handed methods to push through the [A/O Guardian System]. He had stipulated in Article 59 of the constitution:

A guardian must protect an omega during their differentiation period. They must not mark them, and they must not abandon them. Violators will face life imprisonment.

However, after the omega has safely completed differentiation, the guardian will have priority right in mate selection.

This seemingly strange system successfully transformed the exploitation of omegas by alphas into a competition between Alphas.

You want an omega? Then protect them from the surrounding pack of wolves until their wings are fully-fledged, and they willingly acknowledge you as their legal partner.

That merman, with his extreme methods, had successfully ignited conflict between alphas. He was cursed by the International Alpha Rights Association as a: “Despicable, shameless demon who exploits alphas!”

However, that Old Emperor had not been afraid of going to hell. He had even added fuel to the fire. At the Interstellar United Nations General Assembly, which had convened to denounce him, he had made an arrogant proclamation:

“To guarantee every right for omegas, aside from their freedom, is the fundamental policy of this Empire.”

Based on that sentence alone, Izsu Paraiso was worthy of being carved onto the Pillar of Demons, becoming the most magnificent and controversial chapter in interstellar history.

But Bai Ling had never expected that the “widow” the old man had personally trained was also a huge menace.

Struggling to wake from a sea of chaos, Bai Ling opened his stinging eyes. An unfamiliar ceiling met his gaze.

Where am I…?

The light was dim. He found himself lying in a large bed. A small orange lamp on the bedside table was a bit glaring to his eyes. In the distance was a row of dark bookshelves, their glass doors protecting many gold-tooled, out-of-print books. In the overlapping light and shadows, the glass reflected an elegant, somber figure.

“Ah…!”

Bai Ling shot bolt upright, his head whipping around in alarm.

The man was sitting in an armchair in the corner with his long legs crossed. His abundant golden hair was spread gracefully over his shoulders, and his expression was one of amused gentleness.

“Good evening, little stray bird.”

“You—” Bai Ling started to question him, but he was jerked to a stop as he tried to move.

Clack. A clear metallic sound rang out. He turned his head, stunned, and saw his right hand chained to the bedpost.

He was imprisoned in a strange room.

And the thing serving as a handcuff was, unexpectedly, a zirconium-gold bracelet inlaid with moon-white and gray gemstones.

“I didn’t have any proper tools on hand,” the man said, “so I just found a little trinket that fit your wrist.”

What trinket?! Bai Ling was on the verge of cursing out loud.

Leaving aside who would use jewelry as a restraint, zirconium-gold was the stuff they used to make bulletproof armor and nuclear reactors.

Bai Ling laughed in anger. “Giving me the same treatment as a nuclear weapon?”

“Not exactly,” Yu Chen said soothingly. “It’s just that you had mentioned your white hair. This one matches your hair color quite well.”

“You’re really particular, aren’t you?” Bai Ling didn’t hide his sarcasm.

“An old thing like me is bound to have some strange quirks. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

The “handcuff” was his, one he had kept from the past to discipline himself. This was the first time he had ever put it on someone else’s wrist.

Yu Chen spoke softly, his words seemingly indulging the other’s temper. Hearing the young man’s labored breathing, he summoned the AI and ordered:

“He has a fever. Bring a cup of hot milk.”

Hearing the word “milk,” Bai Ling reacted as if a switch had been flipped. He refused flatly. “I won’t drink it!”

Yu Chen turned his head, a hint of amusement on his lips. “Then what should I feed you? Mealworms?”

Mealworms were what little sparrows ate, and of course, were unsuitable for a raptor. Bai Ling was not some young omega who would just take the mockery. He deliberately shot him a look and retorted:

“Your mealworm? In that case, I wouldn’t mind a taste.”

The AI gasped. So rebellious! He’s deliberately walking right into the tiger’s den!

It stole a glance at its master’s reaction and saw that he was uncharacteristically silent for a few seconds. He subtly uncrossed his legs and adjusted his sitting position.

His noble profile was hidden in the dimness. Yu Chen slowly turned his thumb ring and smiled enigmatically.

“Has no one ever taught you that there’s a price for speaking so recklessly?”

This was almost a warning.

But the audacious bird wasn’t buying it. His cheeks were flushed red from his fever, but his gray eyes remained as cold as a blizzard. Curling his pale lips, he let out a cold snort. He swung one leg across the bed, spitefully kicked Yu Chen’s knee, and said with hard arrogance:

“Go on, teach me if you dare.”

Yu Chen couldn’t help but imagine what that entailed.

That’s the posture of a hunter.

---

Author has something to say:

Little Bird: Thank you, I’m on the scene, just got knocked out by pheromones. For the sake of my career, I’ve decided to sell my soul to the devil and take care of his widow for him.

Old Merman: Is it possible you’re currently chatting with the devil himself?