Lan Deng’s arm was indeed injured, and it was a gunshot wound. He hadn’t expected Li Po to notice it, much less so quickly.

“…Yes, but it’s nothing serious, just a minor injury, don’t worry.” He tried to hide his arm further, but the movement was too extensive, pulling at the wound and eliciting a pained expression that twisted his face.

Lan Deng didn’t anticipate being contradicted so quickly, his face flushing red. He coughed lightly, trying to change the subject: “That candy… do you want to try it now? I think it’s quite good.”

Li Po didn’t respond. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on Lan Deng’s, asking with some confusion, “Are there also contaminants in the Upper District?”

He was probing whether Lan Deng’s wound was inflicted intentionally.

Sure enough, Lan Deng shook his head: “Rarely, the Upper District has good protective measures. Contaminants usually occur in the Lower District of human bases.”

As Lan Deng finished speaking, Li Po’s face showed a thoughtful expression. He glanced at Lan Deng’s arm and casually mentioned: “So, were you attacked during a mission? It looks pretty serious.”

Hearing this, Lan Deng hesitated. Missions in Area S, especially those involving the Wu Sha Hui, were confidential, and he couldn’t disclose any details to anyone. Despite Li Po being officially approved to enter Area S, Lan Deng still had to adhere to the rules.

Thus, he didn’t answer directly, only saying, “You might have been well-protected before entering Area S, but the Upper District isn’t as safe as you imagine. Recently, the human bases have been unstable, and the upper echelons of the Upper District are in chaos.”

Lan Deng stopped there, but Li Po understood something. Jing Lun had told him that his “adoptive father” was too busy dealing with contaminants to care for him. Thinking about it now, perhaps it wasn’t just about the contaminants.

With the contaminants rampant and the human bases in turmoil, there must be those who would fish in troubled waters, attempting to seize power. If his “adoptive father” really lost power, Li Po, as his adopted son, would undoubtedly become a target. Moreover, as an omega, it was easy to imagine what could happen to a good-looking omega without protection. No wonder Bian Lu had told him that Area S was his safe harbor.

Li Po thought absentmindedly, slightly distracted.

Seeing him staring at his arm, Lan Deng thought Li Po was worried about him, which moved him deeply. Thus, he rolled up his sleeve, revealing the wound to Li Po: “See, it’s really nothing, don’t worry about me…”

He swallowed the rest of his words as he stared at the blood-soaked bandage, unusually at a loss for words.

“Uh… I moved too much just now, accidentally tore the wound open. It’s nothing, doesn’t hurt at all. I’ll just go to the White Tower to get it bandaged up.” After saying this, he hurriedly pulled down his sleeve and withdrew his hand.

The scent of blood filled the air, mixed with a hint of pheromones. The scent wasn’t faint, but masked by the blood, Li Po didn’t notice. He withdrew his gaze, his mind still on the glimpse of the gunshot wound he’d seen on Lan Deng—it was a graze. Fortunately, the wound wasn’t deep and didn’t look too serious.

However, what caught Li Po’s attention were three or four light scars on Lan Deng’s arm. The scars varied in depth and size, and given that alphas typically have good physical constitution and healing abilities, scars shouldn’t normally remain. The presence of these scars likely indicated that the area had sustained very severe injuries in the past.

It made sense; Area S combatants frequently embarked on missions, facing dangerous contaminants, and injuries were inevitable, even fatal for some. Surviving was already commendable. At the same time, Li Po suddenly wondered—did Jiang Yu have such scars too?

The next second, he touched the medication he had tucked into his pocket.

Seeing Li Po somewhat distracted, Lan Deng raised his uninjured hand and waved it in front of him: “What’s up? You seem lost in thought.”

Li Po snapped back to reality. He tugged at the corner of his mouth and took a piece of candy from the packet, placing it in front of Lan Deng. Lan Deng, surprised and pleased, took the candy, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. Although he had already tasted it when buying, he felt the sweetness seemed to double now that Li Po had handed it to him.

“Take care of your injury, I have some things to do, so I’ll be going now,” Li Po said softly, staring at the candy in his palm.

“Alright, go ahead,” Lan Deng said, although reluctantly, and nodded.

After leaving the cafeteria, Li Po headed toward the Black Tower.

As he walked, he suddenly sensed a subtle feeling of being watched. Knowing that no one but Zhuang Mao had the leisure to follow him, he quickened his pace and turned into the Black Tower.

…

Only when the figure entered the Black Tower did Zhuang Mao finally stop. He looked up at the imposing, solemn tower, a sinister thought gradually forming.

Zhuang Mao now was a far cry from himself two months ago. His features were gaunt, his cheeks hollow, and his complexion waxen with extreme anxiety. His whole being was enveloped in a sense of gloom, appearing from afar like a walking corpse.

Zhuang Mao stared intensely at the nearby Black Tower, thinking darkly: if the combat officer knew this omega’s true nature, could he still stay in Area S? It was well known that the combat officer was cold and strict, never showing favoritism. If he discovered those sordid matters, that omega would have no other fate but death.

Even if there was no evidence, what he said was true, and if the combat officer wanted to verify the truth, he would naturally investigate. All Zhuang Mao needed to do then was sit back and watch the show.

What did it matter how many lovers the opponent had? Zhuang Mao didn’t believe the omega could win over the combat officer’s heart, nor did he have the capability.

With that thought, Zhuang Mao finally felt a bit more at ease. He looked once more in the direction of the Black Tower before reluctantly departing.

•

At the top of the Black Tower.

Li Po knocked on the door, but there was no answer.

He knocked again, still no response.

Tentatively, he grasped the doorknob and gave it a slight twist—to his surprise, the door was unlocked.

Li Po immediately felt guilty, slowly pulling the door open a crack and peeking inside cautiously. To his disappointment, the room was completely empty.

This scenario was beyond his expectations. Li Po stared somberly at the medication in his hand, hesitating for a long time before deciding to leave it on the desk and then exit.

Boldly pushing the door open, Li Po walked up to the desk where Jiang Yu usually worked and placed the medication there. Jiang Yu’s desk was very tidy, with documents neatly arranged, exuding a sense of aloofness.

On top was a map, which Li Po leaned in to examine—it was a map of the Upper District of the human base. The map was densely marked with every location in the Upper District, with several spots even specifically highlighted.

Li Po scanned the map briefly, finding it somewhat unfamiliar. He dredged up the original host’s memories and vaguely recalled a few place names. It seemed the original host hadn’t ventured out much, otherwise his impression of the Upper District wouldn’t be so vague.

Just as he was about to pick up the map for a closer look, a sound of the door opening suddenly came from behind.

Li Po jerked, quickly withdrawing his hand and turning to face the door.

As their eyes met, Jiang Yu’s expression visibly cooled. He stared at Li Po, his voice devoid of emotion: “Why is it you?”

“Why can’t it be me?” Li Po retorted without changing his expression. After speaking, he turned slightly, nodding toward the desk, “Dr. Bian asked me to bring these to you.”

Noticing the boxes of medication on the desk, Jiang Yu finally softened the cold look in his eyes. He walked over to the desk and spoke flatly, “You can leave now.”

Hearing this, Li Po suddenly chuckled softly.

Leave? He could walk away on his own accord, but he would not be driven away by Jiang Yu. Did Jiang Yu think he had nothing better to do, just delivering some broken medicine?

The cool gaze landed on Li Po’s face, his feet not moving an inch, clearly not intending to leave. Jiang Yu’s brows furrowed, his stare icy, with a barely perceptible warning in his eyes.

But Li Po was not deterred by the coldness. He smiled slightly, looking directly at Jiang Yu with a hint of amusement: “Commander, you haven’t given me my reward yet.”

“…”

Jiang Yu had never been asked for money in his life, nor had anyone dared to ask him for it. He stared at Li Po for a long time, finally asking, “How much?”

Li Po was startled: “How much what?”

Jiang Yu’s patience was nearly exhausted: “How many star coins.”

After hearing this, Li Po fell silent. A few seconds later, he finally looked up, his gaze mocking as he eyed Jiang Yu: “Ten thousand star coins, or… a kiss would also suffice.”

Dead silence.

A prolonged dead silence.

Sunlight streamed through the transparent window, illuminating the dust floating in the air. The room was so quiet that Li Po could hear his own steady breathing.

Li Po watched Jiang Yu intently, not wanting to miss any emotion on his face. But to his disappointment, Jiang Yu’s expression remained impassive. He just silently looked at him, eventually raising his hand to activate his star-brain.

Meanwhile, the communicator in Li Po’s pocket suddenly vibrated intensely.

Li Po paused, blinking slowly, and finally took out the communicator to check—

[Your account has been credited with 10,000 star coins by Jiang Yu.]

“You know that’s not what I meant.” After putting away the communicator, Li Po’s expression became very subdued. He calmly looked at Jiang Yu, speaking softly.

Jiang Yu simply said, “That was your request.”

“You’d fulfill any request?” Li Po raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, “Then why didn’t you kiss me?”

As Li Po approached, Jiang Yu’s expression grew colder. He stared at Li Po’s eyes, his voice detached: “You are an omega.”

“So what? Doesn’t an omega have the right to kiss an alpha? It’s not a marking, a kiss doesn’t count for much.” Li Po spoke lightly, his face unconcerned. Of course, he wasn’t someone to act carelessly; his words were meant to provoke Jiang Yu.

Jiang Yu, known for his strong emotional control, wasn’t angered by Li Po. He simply watched him silently, his face showing no turmoil.

Seeing Jiang Yu’s expression, Li Po suddenly found it all very uninteresting. So, he stopped beating around the bush and walked up to Jiang Yu, getting straight to the point: “So, are you taking me with you tomorrow?”

Yes, he had come here initially for the mission.

Hearing this, Jiang Yu’s brow slightly furrowed. He was about to say “no,” when a scent suddenly reached his nose—it was the scent of alpha pheromones.

The scent was not light, clinging to Li Po, detectable even from a slight proximity. From its intensity, this was definitely not something that could be picked up from a mere touch.

The moment Jiang Yu smelled that scent, the chill around him intensified significantly. He lowered his gaze, staring coldly at Li Po, his eyes devoid of warmth: “Are you that casual?”

What?

Li Po was baffled.

Seeing him feign ignorance, Jiang Yu bluntly stated, “Just finished kissing one and already eager to kiss another?”

???

What the heck!