A ghost

North figured he should worry more about himself. The teacher called him up to answer a question regarding the history of “Procreation Rights Law.” North stood up, recalled what he had learned before, and recited fluently:

“In the year 2309 of the Interstellar Calendar, the Former Emperor amended the law to include omegas as the first category of strategic resources prohibited for export, topping the list alongside endangered animals, plants, and minerals.

“In 2325, the Former Emperor publicly issued a shocking declaration, claiming: ‘Citizens, please rest assured; we will do our utmost to protect all legal rights of omegas—except for [Freedom].’

“In 2327, the [Guardian] system was promulgated. Omega resources were utilized effectively, and the Empire’s newborn egg hatching rate achieved its first 10% increase in 150 years.”

Bai Ling, who had been feigning sleep with his head propped on his hand, suddenly opened his eyes and glanced at North. Those specific years and data were not in the textbook. On the platform, the teacher was also stunned, his expression turning flustered and terrified.

North continued: “In 2400, the new Emperor took the throne, overthrowing the previous Imperial dynasty through a peaceful evolution, yet he did not end the monarchy.” He switched to a mocking tone: “That same year, the new Emperor announced: ‘The procreation priority rights of all omegas in the entire Empire, regardless of age, legally belong to me.’ Thus began the—”

The teacher finally reached his limit: “Enough, shut up! Who allowed you to slander our Great King like this?”

It was a heavy accusation to drop. North blinked innocently and said:

“Teacher, I just stated exactly what His Majesty did; there’s no slander.”

The teacher was speechless for a moment, then lashed out indiscriminately: “Any discussion of His Majesty’s decisions is prohibited!”

“Understood, I’ll be more careful next time.” North secretly stuck his tongue out and slid back into his seat.

A sneer played at the corners of Bai Ling’s lips. A sign that a country was in decline was always the extreme control of speech and the prohibition of discussing history.

The teacher, meanwhile, stole a glance at the monitor overhead and let out a silent sigh of relief. That was close. If his reaction had been any slower and these ignorant concubines had uttered anything non-compliant, he would likely have been reported to the secret police, dragged away, and thrown into a frying pan.

Still shaken, the teacher gave the concubines a stern warning:

“And the rest of you, remember this—omegas only need to study the contents of the [Omega Code of Conduct]. Obtaining knowledge from any other source is illegal. Understood?”

A scattered chorus of replies followed: “…Understood.”

The teacher’s expression softened slightly. To reclaim his professional dignity and authority, he added:

“However, it is necessary to acquire some harmless cultural knowledge at the appropriate time, such as baking, flower arrangement, and dining etiquette. Should His Majesty take you to diplomatic functions, this will prevent you from losing decorum on the spot.”

“There is also a library in the dormitory area on the 78th floor. You can enter by scanning your restriction rings. That is all. Class dismissed.”

Following protocol, everyone stood and shouted “Praise The Great King” before scurrying off to the canteen for lunch.

Bai Ling, lost in thought, asked, “Can a concubine actually participate in  diplomatic occasions?”

As North packed his things, he replied, “Sure, why not? Once you become a favored consort, you can. Though you’d likely just be a mute pretty vase accompanying the TGK. If you want to stand tall and hold high-level discussions with those diplomatic ministers, you’d probably have to reach the rank of Empress.”

North hugged his books, and as a thought struck him, his face lit up with excitement. “Maybe our class will produce an Empress, hehe~ When one attains the Dao, even his pets ascend to heaven. We can also bask in that glory.”

Bai Ling remained unimpressed. “What if one becomes Empress? At most, it’s just a vase that’s allowed to talk.”

North shook his head like an old scholar. “Birdie, you don’t understand. According to the current constitution, the Empress of this country has the right of succession to the throne.”

Bai Ling’s eyes flashed. He immediately followed up: “What do you mean?”

“It means that in our Empire, if the Emperor passes away, the first in line for the throne isn’t a prince or a royal relative. It’s—” North smiled slightly. “The Queen.”

Bai Ling’s mind raced, once again recalling the Empress card he had drawn at the plaza.

North cupped a hand to his mouth and lowered his voice: “That’s why the TGK never appoints a Queen; the highest rank is Noble Consort. He’s likely afraid that if an accident happens, someone might exploit this system bug to strip him of his power.”

Bai Ling suddenly had a daring idea.

Suppose… just suppose… he neutralized the tyrant on the night of the “bedding ceremony,” forced him to designate him as Queen in the system, and then put a bullet through the tyrant’s head to swiftly install a puppet emperor.

The legitimacy of power would be in his hands instantly.

Years of experience maneuvering in military power circles told him that to seize power across multiple ranks, one has to take extreme measures and strike unexpectedly from behind.

The security around the tyrant was indeed impenetrable; any intruder caught with ill intent would be shot on sight.

But since ancient times, risk had always been proportional to reward. Even if there were only a 0.00001% chance, as long as he succeeded, Bai Ling could completely flip the destiny of the Empire for the next decade.

This wasn’t naivety or a pipe dream.

Those at the top became the elite because they dared to attempt what ordinary people couldn’t even imagine.

As Bai Ling thought, he rubbed his chin.

Furthermore, if he needed an experienced and discerning “puppet,” he had one right at hand…

For instance, [The Little Bird’s Dish].

While the conditions were barely met, the plan was still far from meticulous. He needed to learn more about this “Empress Succession System” to ensure he hadn’t misunderstood anything, lest his efforts result in a hollow victory.

“Is there any material regarding this system? I’d like to study it,” Bai Ling asked casually.

As if he had been prepared, North immediately listed a series of books and told him: “These are all books in general circulation. They aren’t banned. You can find them in that library on the 78th floor.”

Bai Ling frowned, looking at him keenly. “You seem very well-informed?”

North said gloomily, “The library? Of course I am. Birdie, you’re often away from the dorm so you don’t know, but Sava sleeps all day. When his dreams get too intense, he starts cooing and squawking. I have no choice but to hang out at the library to get away from the noise…”

Whenever Sava’s bad habits were mentioned, it was hard for Bai Ling to disagree.

Reciting the book list to himself, he took the elevator downstairs. He was unaware that the eyes behind him watched his retreating back intently until finally, the corners of a mouth curled into a sinister grin.

North: “Hehe.”

Sava happened to pass by and glanced at him. “What are you ‘hehe’-ing about?”

North turned his face, once again the image of a docile, kind little sea rabbit. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Ate too much melon seeds, just let out a burp.”

Sava’s eyes instantly lit up. “What explosive tea? Quick, tell me!”

North’s scalp tingled. He thought to himself: If I show you, the entire ‘Little Seafood’ class will be turned into physical sashimi. He quickly laughed it off, claiming it was old news, and vanished into the crowd heading for the canteen.

Sava squinted suspiciously. “Every single one of them acts like they’ve got something to hide.”

The thought of the meatless meals in the canteen turned his stomach, so he headed straight back to the dorm to catch up on sleep.

As soon as he opened the door, a man with long, straight blue hair was sitting elegantly inside. Propping his chin on his hand, he asked softly with a touch of morbidity:

“You missed him so much that you laid an egg for him?”

Sava slammed the door shut with a loud bang, making the walls vibrate.

A Nightingale passing in the hallway asked with concern, “What’s wrong? Is there something scary in there?”

The veins on Sava’s temples bulged. “A ghost.”

Nightingale: “……”

Author’s Note:

Old Merman: My wife wants to help me take power. OK. My wife wants to become someone else’s Queen? I’ll beat up that octopus.

Birdie: ? Who’s your wife?

Old Merman stays silent, silently picking up [108 Ways to Court a Raptor] to study diligently.