Real Guardian

Less than two hours later, Bai Ling’s face had indeed turned ghastly pale.

His stomach was churning horribly. Severe nerve pain made him tremble uncontrollably even while lying down. He would sometimes convulse, and his chest would heave as he gasped for air. All the deadly withdrawal symptoms were arriving, one after another.

“Little bird! Little bird!” North opened the capsule door, calling anxiously. He whipped his head around. “Sava, we have to get him to the infirmary!”

“No,” Sava vetoed it instantly.

North was so anxious he wanted to scream, Is this really the time for you two to be feuding?

But Sava was surprisingly calm. He lowered his voice. “Didn’t you see? He came back this morning covered in alpha pheromones. He definitely ran off to meet some other alpha, I’ve no idea if it was a doctor or a guard. But either way, now that we’re in the palace, omegas like us are the tyrant’s private property. If this gets out, he’s finished.”

North finally understood and asked anxiously, “Then what do we do?”

Sava pried open Bai Ling’s trembling fingers and turned the restriction ring on his wrist toward himself. “Obviously, we contact his guardian first.”

With that, he pressed the red emergency call button.

An omega’s restriction ring alarm would instantly trigger their guardian’s wristband, making it vibrate. No matter the distance, or even if they were asleep, as long as the alpha wasn’t dead, the call would connect immediately.

If the alpha intentionally ignored it, the thing would vibrate nonstop for three days and three nights, like one of those trick birthday candles that wouldn’t go out.

Based on that special-supply-grade beef jerky, which didn’t contain a speck of starch, Sava deduced that this guy’s guardian was definitely rich and powerful.

However, when the call connected, the answer he got was completely unexpected: “What damn guardian? I quit that job ages ago! Tell that omega to go screw himself! If you call this number again, I’ll report you to the anti-fraud app!”

Sava cursed out loud, “What the hell? You? You’re fit to be the guardian of an Outer Space Legion war machine?”

Bai Ling, curled in a ball, heard the familiar words, and his eyelids fluttered anxiously.

North was also stunned, but he quickly remembered something. After a moment’s thought, he pulled Sava aside and selectively confessed, “Er… it’s a long story. But that restriction ring… it’s not actually his.”

Sava froze, then quickly accepted the fact. He was even more annoyed. “I knew it! This guy snuck in with a fake identity—” To spy on me.

North saw him fuming for no clear reason and quickly changed the subject. “But we can use the ring’s ‘alphas accessed in the last three days’ function to find the alpha he was in close contact with yesterday!”

Sava pouted, but skillfully pulled up the virtual interface. Both of them leaned in to look.

The list was completely blank.

What the hell is this?

North was speechless. Ruling out the one-in-a-ten-thousand chance of the ring malfunctioning, the only remaining possibility was…

“Ah… no way… it couldn’t be…”

Sava crossed his arms and sneered. “No wonder he’s so arrogant. So he was off serving the Emperor behind our backs.”

Everyone knew that in the entire Empire, the only person who didn’t have to wear an restriction ring was the Emperor himself. And they were in the palace. Bai Ling hadn’t come back all night… who he had been with was obvious.

North bit his nails, completely conflicted. “That’s not right. I really don’t think Little Bird has any interest in him.” He had called TGK worse than a dog the day they met. Is that something you could just say?

Sava didn’t believe it at all. He rolled his eyes. “If it’s not the Emperor, who else could it be? It couldn’t have been the ghost of Izsu Paraiso giving him sleep paralysis, could it?”

“—Ahem.”

A voice interrupted without warning, scaring both of them so badly their hair stood on end. They leaped back in unison. “Who?!”

Holy hell. It wasn’t really a ghost, was it?

They looked back and saw a cleaning robot tilting its head, peeking into the room. Its camera lenses were glowing with an eerie red light.

It was the middle of the night. Why wasn’t the robot on its charging dock? Why was it here? Sava and North stared at each other, confused.

Just then, two spinning stars appeared in the little robot’s lenses, indicating friendliness. It raised its mechanical arms as if surrendering, showing it was unarmed and only holding an eco-friendly paper bag. It peeked in and asked, “Hello, is Little Bird here? My master sent me to give him something.”

Sava, considering himself the Big Bird, pointed inside. His and North’s shout had been so loud it had actually managed to wake Bai Ling up a little.

Right now, Bai Ling was sitting up and pressing a hand to his temple. He fumbled under his pillow for the bottle of alpha pheromone supplements, poured out two pills, pursed his lips, and then poured out three more, swallowing them all at once.

He rubbed his damp, clumped eyelashes and stared blankly for a few seconds before he recognized the AI. Then, he noticed his restriction ring’s interface was lit up. He immediately narrowed his eyes, looking suspiciously at Sava.

Sava snorted and turned his back.

North whispered an explanation, “Don’t mind him. We saw you were sick and just wanted to contact your guardian.”

During an omega’s differentiation period, aside from the duty to perform [Soothing] and [Protection], the guardian’s more daily role was psychological comfort—to act as an elder who supported, encouraged, and calmed your heart.

In a sense, the guardian was the only person who would unconditionally be on your side.

The extremely high moral and quality standards required that, in the last century, a person had to be trained and certified to become a guardian.

Of course, in return for this effort, an outstanding guardian, if recognized by their omega, would steadily receive social credit points. If they could maintain an average score of 6.5 or higher, it was a great help for promotions and raises.

But it was also true that in recent years, the quality of guardians had plummeted.

“My guardian…” Bai Ling’s brow furrowed. He pressed his throbbing head and his lips moved for a long time before he finally said slowly, “There’s no need to notify him over such a small thing. Besides, we’re not close. He’s just a guarantor I found online, who was kind enough to sign my travel permit for my differentiation. We don’t… normally have contact.”

At least in his past life, in the ten years from age nineteen to twenty-nine, they hadn’t had much contact.

He had only really gotten to know “Mr. D” after he turned thirty. According to the timeline, it was still too early. So, since his regression, he had just set the matter aside and not thought about it.

Sava got angry for some reason. “No contact? So he’s a zero-point guardian?”

But Bai Ling frowned, instinctively refuting, “He’s a 9.9. That’s the score I gave him.”

He had given that score for 22 consecutive years in his past life. He had never missed a month.

Sava turned his head away, muttering in frustration, “He still gives him a score even after being abandoned. He won’t even buy him a decent prosthesis. What a disgrace to us raptors…”

Bai Ling didn’t seem to mind. He reached out and gently patted the little robot’s head. It immediately woke from standby, deftly picked up the bag, and began taking things out, one by one.

Soon, six glass bottles of fresh milk were lined up neatly on the desk.

“Fresh milk doesn’t keep long. One bottle for tonight, one for tomorrow morning.” The AI used its pincer in place of a finger and, as if completing a mission, gave him a salute. Salute.

Bai Ling stared blankly at the glass bottles lined up in a row. “But there are six bottles here?”

“Oh, that. It’s because the Master told me, ‘Bring a few extra, in case he’s made new friends.'”

Hearing the word “friends,” Sava’s neck flushed bright red. His eyes darted away, and he looked guiltily up at the ceiling.

Next, the AI opened its own storage compartment and took out a lithium battery. It was warm, clearly having just been unplugged from a charger. The AI said enthusiastically, “There’s also a spare battery. This one was just found in the warehouse. It’s brand new. The Master said the temperature dropped today, and you might have trouble charging. He said you wouldn’t be able to go out, and that young people should get out more and not be held back by small problems.”

The AI added in a whisper, “To be honest… I also really hope you’ll visit us more often.”

This feeling… of being remembered by someone on a cold night…

Bai Ling subconsciously clenched the blanket on his legs. He kept his head down and his lips parted, but no sound came out.

When the AI saw he wasn’t speaking, it suggested, “Do you want to talk to Master? I can connect you.”

Bai Ling looked as if he were snapping out of a dream. He suddenly lifted his forehead, which was damp with cold sweat. His eyes, which had been clouded by the mysterious withdrawal symptoms, sparked with a faint light.

The AI began pressing the keypad. “Beep, beep, beep, beep, boop— boop— Hello? Uh-huh, it’s me. Oh, okay, okay, handing it over now—”

The robot’s communicator was embedded in its right pincer. It simply detached its “little steel hand” and stuffed it at Bai Ling.

Bai Ling took it in a panic, pressing the pincer-communicator to his ear with one hand, clamping it there by tilting his head and hiking up his shoulder. He kept saying, “Wait a second, wait a second,” while simultaneously bending down to quickly unplug his prosthesis charger. He snapped the new battery in, forgot to even put on his shoes, and scrambled out of the capsule, stumbling as he ran.

“Hello…”

The door clicked shut, a wall separating the voice in the hallway from the dorm.

Sava stared at the door, completely shocked, unable to believe his eyes.

“…That damned bird was totally messing with us! ‘Not close with his guardian’? He’s getting food delivered and he’s settling in for a long chat. This has to be the real guardian, right?”

Snowflakes drifted down from the fluorescent-red night sky. The shush-shushing white noise made every second feel soft and long, as if time itself were treading lightly.

Bai Ling hid in the stairwell, one shoulder leaning against the icy wall. But the fingers gripping the little pincer-communicator were burning hot.

He deliberately quieted his breathing, letting the voice, carried on electromagnetic waves, flow into his ear.

“Good evening.” Yu Chen’s voice was as gentle as ever. “I wanted to know how you’re doing right now. Is it convenient to tell me about your condition?”

He was getting straight to the point, asking for information.

Author has something to say:

In front of others → A Falcon boss, a maturity beyond his years, cold, aloof, and a super fighter.

In the Old Merman’s heart → A soft little bird, needs his cup of milk before bed, a cute baby who forgets his shoes and runs out using polite speech just to answer his phone.

Oh, I changed the cover art today. I cordially invite everyone to click the full-size image to see the high-def beauty of the old Merfolk and the little bird!!! (Yes, the fish’s expression is fierce, he’s guarding his food.) How is it, how is it? Isn’t it more exciting than the previous anime-style one?

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