Chapter 151: I Miss You Very Much

“Beep beep—”

The sudden vibration of a star-brain device echoed through the silent laboratory, standing out abruptly and drawing several glances in an instant.

Shen Yu lowered his gaze, his eyelashes trembling slightly as he coldly shut off the star-brain and returned to his work.

At a glance, the message seemed nothing out of the ordinary, and the others quickly lost interest, shifting their focus away.

However, the person in front of him, Wen Qiushui, was perceptive enough to notice the subtle change in his emotions. She used tweezers to press a cotton swab against his bloodstained arm before replacing it with a clean cotton pad.

Her voice softened slightly as she asked, “Someone you know?”

“The J-series medicine cabinet in the lab hasn’t been fully adjusted yet. It weakens external signal reception.”

The cotton swab was removed, the bloodied cotton ball clamped by tweezers and tossed into the incinerator-equipped trash bin, where a diligent cleaning robot immediately detected and disposed of it.

Wen Qiushui straightened up, removed her gloves, and said in an indifferent tone, “You should delete it after reading.”

Then, she turned away, her voice rising back to its usual volume as she instructed, “Lance, organize the J-series medicine cabinet.”

Immediately, the surrounding researchers cast sympathetic glances at Shen Yu.

Too tragic. Not only was he an experimental subject, but now he had also drawn Master Garna’s attention, putting him under Wen Qiushui’s scrutiny.

Since the last batch of experimental subjects had been smuggled away by the Federation, the lab had only recently received a new batch, and even then, their numbers were scarce.

This unavoidably slowed down research progress, prompting Wen Qiushui to resume blood extractions under the justification that “different subjects exhibit different reactions.”

The researchers who had previously escaped this duty dared not slack off anymore, fearful of repeating past mistakes. For a long while, they all obediently followed orders.

They had drawn so much blood that their technique had improved—they even knew how to do it with minimal pain.

Otherwise, they would be met with Wen Qiushui’s condescending, indifferent gaze—as if saying:

“You can’t even draw blood without hurting the subject?”

How embarrassing.

The researchers started thinking that once they left this place, they could easily qualify as nurses.

At least they weren’t as miserable as Lance.

Despite his promotion to a position rivaling Lauri’s, he was still under Wen Qiushui’s control and forced to serve as a test subject.

Not only that, he also moonlighted as a researcher. They had often seen Lance tinkering with strange experiments, which occasionally exploded.

Whenever Wen Qiushui saw it, she would merely glance over dismissively—it was clear she had ordered him to do it.

And now? He had to organize the medicine cabinet.

Pitiful… truly pitiful. Even those of lower rank were living better than Lance—realizing this, the researchers suddenly felt hopeful about their own futures.

Under their sympathetic gazes, Shen Yu rolled down his sleeves and walked toward the J-series medicine cabinet.

If anyone looked closely, they would realize that the J-series cabinet was already perfectly organized—there was no need for sorting.

With a few perfunctory gestures, Shen Yu turned his back to the others and discreetly activated his star-brain.

Personal star-brains were forbidden within the base to prevent external communication. Only those with higher authority were allowed to carry one.

Had it not been for Ji Laili exposing himself before, leading to his capture by Shen Yu, Lance wouldn’t have risen in rank so quickly.

Shen Yu didn’t know how Laili had obtained his star-brain ID, but the moment he saw the message, he immediately recognized who it was from.

—— Lance-sama, were you a little happier today?

Unconsciously, Shen Yu’s lips curled into a faint smile. He could almost picture the sender’s bright, mischievous smile as they typed the message.

—— Not happy just now. But now, I am.

—— …Damn! Now I really want to make you even happier…

—— Just receiving a message from Laili already makes me happy. How’s everything on your end?

The next message was brief, summarizing Chi Fei and Lei Po’s current situation. Shen Yu’s smile faded.

His dark eyes lingered on the text, deep in thought.

Far away, Ji Laili didn’t miss the system’s notification about Shen Yu’s rising “corruption value.” He rubbed his cheek in frustration.

As expected—telling his Little Butterfly about this only made him want to kill someone.

The corruption value was rising at an alarming rate.

But if he hid the truth from Shen Yu, thinking it was for his own good, wouldn’t that be the most hurtful thing of all?

Ji Laili ruffled his curls, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

—— Lance-sama, don’t be sad.

—— Cheer up! You’re only allowed to be sad for a few seconds!

—— Otherwise, even Chi Fei would be mad. We still have something more important to do—let’s bring Chi Fei home together.

The star-brain buzzed in Shen Yu’s hands, pulling him from his thoughts. He stared at those words, his long, thick eyelashes trembling slightly.

Obediently, he let himself be sad for just a few seconds.

He had more important things to do.

That annoying yet endearing senior, at the very least, shouldn’t have died in vain.

Shen Yu quickly outlined his latest plan, emphasizing the use of bombs.

Blowing up the laboratory.

Ji Laili’s eyes lit up. As expected of his Little Butterfly!

The two exchanged intel, mapping out their respective situations and refining their strategy.

Ji Laili had only just begun typing when—as if they shared a mind—Shen Yu seamlessly completed his thoughts.

He didn’t need to explain much.

Shen Yu already understood.

Ji Laili’s eyes crinkled with joy, only for the system to remind him of another pressing task.

Resting his chin in his palm, he sighed dramatically. “Already? So soon?”

His drooping curls and defeated sigh formed a stark contrast to the bright-eyed, beaming expression he had just moments ago.

Even the system hesitated, almost tempted to comfort him.

If necessary, it could transmit brainwave messages for him instead—it was much faster than typing with human hands!

The system solemnly proposed an idea.

In response, a burst of cheerful laughter came from the curly-haired boy, leaving the system momentarily bewildered.

Humans were truly strange.

Even as an advanced artificial intelligence, it couldn’t comprehend what was so amusing.

Was this… funny?

If analyzed through data patterns, this would likely be classified as a “low humor threshold.”

Sensing the system’s confusion, Ji Laili laughed while using the last bit of his available time to send Shen Yu a message.

“I just think you’re really cute.”

【Based on human language analysis, “cute” is generally a compliment. However, in some contexts, it can be used sarcastically. Additionally, the term “cute” is typically associated with children or females…】

Ji Laili cut off the system’s rigid data report with a grin.

“Does ‘cute’ really need so many definitions?”

“A lot of words have multiple meanings, don’t they? But ultimately, it all depends on how the person receiving them interprets them.”

The system still didn’t quite understand.

Perhaps… this was the fundamental difference between artificial intelligence and humans.

Ji Laili chuckled, then reassured it, “You can interpret it in any way your database allows—all the meanings that imply a compliment.”

“Because, System-ge, you’re just really cute and really amazing.”

He said it so naturally, as if there was nothing strange about calling a cold, emotionless AI “cute.”

To Ji Laili, “cute” was quite possibly the greatest compliment in human history—absolute perfection!

He glanced at the message he had just sent, his eyes crinkling into a smile.

Then, after confirming that all commands were in execution, he stole a glance at the time.

“Eight minutes have passed… which means—”

The boy’s warm and mischievous expression slowly faded into one of icy composure.

His lowered lashes cast a shadow, his gaze turning sharp and cold.

“It’s time to deal with the traitor before me.”

---

At that moment, Shen Yu received his final message.

—— Just between us… I miss you very much.

He stared at the short and simple message, and a faint smile surfaced on his lips.

Quietly, he shut off his star-brain and tucked it into his pocket.

His hands naturally slid into his coat pockets, and the white lab coat he wore—though temporary—only accentuated his calm, distant, and restrained aura.

Shen Yu gazed at the J-series medicine cabinet, his dark eyes turning soft and wistful.

Through that single letter, it was as if he could see the person behind it.

Not long now.

This time…

he would be the one to say those words.