Li Po couldn’t help but laugh in frustration.

Although he had indeed deceived Jiang Yu and harbored thoughts of using him, he never truly exploited him from start to finish. As for going on missions together, it was a matter of mutual benefit. Deep down, he hoped that Jiang Yu could stop relying on medication and completely break free from the control issues with his psychic powers.

Yet, Jiang Yu actually felt that he was being used.

Li Po suddenly felt uncomfortable. He lowered his gaze, staring blankly at a point in space, his vision empty.

With his head bowed, his expression was unclear, only the corners of his eyes were red. Jiang Yu, not seeing clearly, thought he was crying. As an Alpha, like most Alphas, he couldn’t stand seeing an Omega’s tears, especially Li Po’s.

He was seldom softhearted, especially sitting in the position of a combat officer—he had seen too much killing and betrayal, and soft-heartedness was the most useless emotion. Similarly, he despised deceit.

A lie is either told once or countless times; one lie needs many lies to cover it up, and lies often represent exploitation and betrayal. Logically, even if Jiang Yu didn’t want to delve deeper, he needed to know why Li Po lied.

Back at the crematorium, he had sensed something was off, but at that time Li Po was crying fiercely and had injuries, so he couldn’t interrogate him like he would other combatants. That scene just now, however, confirmed Jiang Yu’s original suspicion.

Thinking this, Jiang Yu’s brow furrowed slightly. He was used to handling the simplest interpersonal relationships; to avoid trouble, he never wanted teammates, yet he hadn’t expected that his first teammate would be so much trouble. He was cold enough to be indifferent to anyone around him, except for Li Po, with whom he was unsure how to proceed.

But realizing that Li Po might be crying, Jiang Yu felt somewhat disturbed. He lowered his gaze, adopting what he thought was the gentlest manner, and said softly, “Li Po, I don’t need a teammate who isn’t honest.”

“…”

Li Po was already holding back anger, and he didn’t pick up on the second layer of Jiang Yu’s words—hoping for honesty—only understanding the most superficial layer. Suddenly, his mood worsened.

Being his nature, the greater the emotional fluctuation Li Po experienced, the calmer his expression and lighter his voice became. So, he paused imperceptibly before lifting his face again to look at Jiang Yu: “Commander, are you saying you don’t want me anymore?”

Jiang Yu finally saw Li Po’s expression clearly. After seeing the emotion at the bottom of his eyes, Jiang Yu was slightly startled.

Without a hood to cover it, Li Po’s face was exposed under the light, looking cold yet beautiful. But now, his face had lost its previous warmth and softness, leaving only a strangely sharp sense. Li Po rarely showed emotion on his face; even his lips were flat, making it hard to guess his current mood. His voice was light, as if asking a question, yet it sounded more like a statement.

That moment, Jiang Yu suddenly felt the Omega across from him was somewhat unfamiliar.

So, he didn’t answer Li Po, just silently watched him, his emotions unreadable.

In Li Po’s mind, this was taken as confirmation. Like a spark igniting a fuse, a nerve in Li Po’s mind suddenly “snapped”—he became irrational and no longer considered the consequences. He could even hear his own voice, nearly indifferent:

“So, what about you? Have you ever been honest with me? You only see me as an Omega, never as a teammate, and in your eyes, I’m not even comparable to a combatant from Area S. In your view, going on missions together means locking me in a room, waiting for you to finish the mission, and then letting me out, right?”

“Yes, I know there’s a huge gap between our strengths, you’re doing it for my good, not wanting me to face danger. But have you ever thought, I don’t even know what you’re doing. You want me to wait, I wait; you want me to go, I follow you. What am I then, your pet?”

His voice was very calm, so calm that even Jiang Yu felt it was abnormal. Jiang Yu looked at him with a complex expression, just about to speak, when Li Po immediately interrupted him, not giving him a chance to talk.

“Trust is mutual; you don’t trust me, why should I trust you?” Suddenly, Li Po thought of something and laughed sarcastically, “Indeed, you’re a high-ranking combat officer, sir, and I’m just that infamous Omega from Area S, how could I match up to you?”

Jiang Yu’s brow twisted at these words, his gaze at Li Po faintly disapproving: “Calm down.”

Li Po stared at Jiang Yu for a long while before slowly shifting his gaze to the dagger he held in his palm. The dagger flashed coldly, reflecting the light into his eyes, stinging them until he reflexively closed them.

“Alright, let’s head back to Area S then.” Li Po reinserted the dagger into its sheath and then dusted off his hands, signaling Jiang Yu to go ahead.

But Jiang Yu didn’t leave. He just stared heavily at Li Po, pausing for a long while before speaking: “Li Po, do you care so much about the mission?”

That moment, Li Po suddenly felt like he was being seen through. It was a familiar sensation, as if he had seen it somewhere before. But he had no time to ponder deeply, only managing to consider how to answer Jiang Yu.

In the mind of an ordinary combatant, a mission is just a job, and few are interested in the mission itself, let alone someone else’s mission. Even Li Po himself didn’t realize that his recent words, though outwardly blaming Jiang Yu for ignoring him, actually revolved around one word—mission.

At this moment, Li Po felt somewhat afraid. Jiang Yu was too calm; he seemed not to care about other people’s emotions, only using those emotions to grasp their weaknesses and flaws.

What could make him lose his calm?

As his thoughts raced, Li Po raised his gaze, suddenly smiling strangely. He stared directly at Jiang Yu, focusing on his unreadable eyes: “If I say I don’t care, would you believe me?”

Jiang Yu calmly looked back at him, not speaking.

The answer was clear, and Li Po’s eyes curved more: “Since you think I’m using you, why even ask me? You already have the answer in your heart, don’t you?”

Jiang Yu couldn’t see what Li Po was thinking; he was silent for a moment, then denied: “I never said that.”

“But you’re implying it, Commander,” Li Po stepped forward slightly, staring at Jiang Yu’s collar, “You might have heard, some say I go seducing other Alphas to achieve my goals. There’s also that ‘jealousy’ video you’ve seen. Just now when you asked me if I care so much about the mission, weren’t you also implying that I’m using you?”

“Commander, do you also think I’m seducing you…”

Li Po’s last words were very soft, but Jiang Yu heard them clearly.

His face turned cold instantly, as if taking Li Po’s words seriously: “Don’t talk nonsense.”

Li Po noticed the coldness in his voice, then smiled lightly. In front of Jiang Yu, he had always acted like an obedient and sensible Omega, but at this moment, he suddenly didn’t want to pretend anymore.

He finally realized that if he remained powerless, Jiang Yu would never be honest with him, and he would never be able to stand on an equal footing with Jiang Yu. Maybe the previous him would have made Jiang Yu feel pity and compassion, but what was the use? He wasn’t a touch-me-not; he wasn’t keen on being someone’s pet.

Thinking this, he raised his head, staring into Jiang Yu’s eyes: “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I have no experience in seducing people. But…” he paused, as if choosing his words, “But… it’s not that I couldn’t.”

After saying that, he lowered his gaze, no longer looking into Jiang Yu’s eyes. Jiang Yu’s nose was high, and Li Po’s gaze slid down its smooth arc, finally landing on his pale lips.

Jiang Yu’s face was slightly cold, his lips straight and firm, exuding an unapproachable air. Li Po stared unflinchingly, the color in his eyes deepening.

The atmosphere suddenly became thick, and Jiang Yu’s thoughts still lingered on Li Po’s last sentence, so he didn’t react immediately.

The next second, the collar of his black shirt was suddenly grasped by a hand. The cool knuckles touched his collarbone, and Jiang Yu’s thoughts paused, not realizing what was happening before a pair of soft lips unexpectedly pressed against his.

Immediately after, a magnified face appeared before him. Li Po kissed him with his eyes closed, his long eyelashes trembling slightly, like a butterfly fluttering its wings. His features were exquisite, and even up close, no flaw could be seen, still beautiful and innocent.

But what he was doing was anything but innocent.

Jiang Yu’s body stiffened, his usually unflappable eyes suddenly fluctuated for a moment, as if something had stirred them. He raised his hand to push Li Po away, but paused abruptly in the next moment, his brain going blank—a moist sensation came from his lips.

Li Po, inexperienced in kissing, could only tentatively stick out his tongue and lick. He thought Jiang Yu’s mouth would be as hard as others’, but surprisingly, it was quite soft. He just held it gently, not using his teeth at all, and lightly sank into it.

Unfortunately, the other side wouldn’t open his mouth. Li Po regretfully withdrew his tongue, lightly licked the corner of the other’s lips, then finally let go. His lips slightly pulled back, a clear trail of moisture at the corner of his lips, looking entangled and ambiguous.

He released his grip on Jiang Yu’s collar, then raised his hand back and wiped his mouth. Only then did he smile at Jiang Yu: “Commander, it’s time to go back.”

Jiang Yu finally came back to his senses. He unconsciously pursed his lips, but upon realizing the wet sensation, his face turned cold. He glanced at Li Po coldly, wanting to say something. But in the end, he said nothing, just silently stepped forward and walked out.

Li Po watched his retreating figure, his expression deep and somber. He didn’t want this, but in the face of Jiang Yu’s doubts and rejection, this might be the only path he could take.

First floor of the arena.

As he passed by, Li Po glanced at the horrifically disfigured contaminant lying in the middle of the venue, feeling somewhat sighful. Roughly counting, there were about seven or eight torn bodies; this was still considered good, as some didn’t even have bodies left, directly swallowed by the contaminant, leaving only a clump of blood-soaked fabric.

Li Po withdrew his gaze, his expression very indifferent. He hadn’t forgotten what had happened in the arena before; these spectators weren’t exactly clean either.

Death was deserved.

After leaving the Lower District, Jiang Yu took out a communicator to summon the starship.

Jiang Yu boarded the starship first, Li Po followed closely behind. After boarding the starship, Li Po consciously didn’t approach, choosing a corner farthest from Jiang Yu.

He had spent too much emotion today, feeling tired, so he had just settled down when he fell asleep unknowingly.

…

When he woke up, the starship had already landed steadily in Area S. He looked around the inside of the starship; he was the only one there.

Jiang Yu had already left.