The soft hair of the Omega youth rested in Fu Tianhe’s palm, almost touching the skin near his ears. The Alpha observed carefully, relieved to see that the dozing Chen Ci hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

Fu Tianhe inhaled deeply, trying to capture the scent molecules in the air, but the anti-bite collar around Chen Ci’s neck blocked any pheromones from reaching him.

It wasn’t out of any improper curiosity—he simply wondered what Jiu Yue’s pheromones smelled like.

The young man who had miraculously entered his life carried with him a shroud of mystery. He was strong enough to subdue six thugs with bad intentions, making them kneel and slap themselves, yet he would hurriedly dodge when faced with a debt-collecting Alpha.

Fu Tianhe wanted to know more, and by now, he was no longer bothered by the possibility that “Jiu Yue” might be an alias. What did it matter if it was a false name? At least, this was the Jiu Yue that only he knew.

Jiu Yue was extremely well-guarded, keeping his Omega pheromones completely concealed from start to finish. Fu Tianhe was curious, unable to imagine what scent could possibly match the youth beside him.

Perhaps it was a cool fragrance—like a pristine flower blooming amidst the ruins, exuding a subtle, cold aroma in an unnoticed corner. Or maybe it was like the delicately nurtured blooms of the most sacred gardens, so tender that it forbade even the slightest thought of desecration.

Lost in his thoughts, Fu Tianhe didn’t notice when the bus stopped. It wasn’t until the vehicle came to a complete halt that he realized they had reached their stop. Quickly, he pressed the stop button before the door could close, then gently shook Chen Ci’s shoulder and whispered, “We’re here.”

Chen Ci opened his sleepy eyes and quickly became alert. He realized he had fallen asleep against the window again, but this time, something soft had cushioned his head.

Glancing to the side, he saw Fu Tianhe’s hand between his head and the window, acting as a human cushion. As he fully woke, Fu Tianhe withdrew his hand.

Chen Ci’s gaze followed the movement, noticing the red marks on Fu Tianhe’s knuckles where they had been pressed against the window.

Fu Tianhe seemed unaware of the marks. He stood up and waited at the door for Chen Ci, who also rose to his feet.

Typically, Chen Ci only allowed Fu Tianhe to accompany him to the bus stop, never letting the Alpha follow him further. This time, seeing that Chen Ci hadn’t outright said goodbye, Fu Tianhe cautiously walked behind him.

Chen Ci navigated around puddles and turned into an alley, while Fu Tianhe observed the area’s layout and environment closely. When they reached the row of buildings where Chen Ci’s house was located, Chen Ci stopped. Understanding the cue, Fu Tianhe also halted, saying simply, “Good night.”

“Good night,” Chen Ci replied and turned to walk away. He deliberately headed in the opposite direction of his home, circling back around from behind another building before finally returning home. Although Fu Tianhe had gained a certain level of trust, it was still better not to fully expose his home address.

Fu Tianhe watched until Chen Ci disappeared from view, then looked up to see which pipe was dripping water above him.

Once home, Chen Ci immediately removed his mask, which had picked up odors from the landfill and was no longer usable. He tossed the mask into the trash, stripped off his clothes into the washing machine, and went straight to take a shower. He didn’t have a germ phobia, but if he could clean himself, why remain dirty?

After his shower, he dried his hair and stepped out of the bathroom. Jiang Dai had already gone to bed, the housekeeper not waiting up for him tonight, seemingly very reassured.

Chen Ci opened the freezer in the corner of Chen Nian’s bedroom. There was one less inhibitor than before, leaving only a single vial lying alone. In the week since Chen Nian had returned, he had injected the inhibitors, and Chen Ci had also used medication specifically formulated for him by the XII Base two days after his physical examination. If all went as planned, it should last until they switched back in three weeks.

Having dozed off on the bus, Chen Ci found himself unexpectedly alert. He lay down in bed, put on his earplugs and eye mask, and called it a day.

At that moment, Shavri Vitaljevich had just finished a full day’s work. He checked messages on his terminal and from his smart housekeeper, noting that there were none from the White Tower. Lying in bed, he donned a neural adapter. His consciousness was pulled deep into the vast virtual space, and the game interface unfolded before him.

His nearly 1.9-meter-tall avatar stood in the main space, its androgynous features barely visible behind blue, luminous sunglasses that covered most of its face, revealing only a high nose, pale, thin lips, and a perfectly sculpted chin.

Atop their head was the ID “Screw this, I’m out!” Shavri flicked through his backpack, skillfully selecting a more nightclub-like skin for the background. Instantly, the character stood under shining disco lights, with colorful beams reflecting off their light golden hair.

Shavri waved a hand, and a door appeared beside the character. He stepped through it into a dressing room with functions to change. Cabinets above offered sprays to alter hair color, skin tone, and eye color, with options for different patterns, demonic true eyes, extensive tattoos, or flashy Mary Sue hairstyles.

Shavri walked to the wardrobe, opening it to reveal countless outfits—long, short, thin, thick, formal, bizarre, in red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, white, black, transparent… everything was there. Tens of thousands of items, including many rare costumes, were part of the treasures Shavri had collected over his nine years of gaming.

Selecting an item, a cropped vest instantly appeared on his character. Shavri quickly switched outfits, and minutes later, he had changed into an outfit brimming with a cyberpunk vibe. He exited the dressing room and officially logged into the game.

The sensation of the soft bed was stark as Screw this, I’m out! woke up in their 108th-floor office. Rolling over to the edge of the four-meter-wide bed, Shavri headed to the living room. The entire high-rise office reeked of new money—gold walls, red floors, a solid wood desk, a retro crystal chandelier, a Scandinavian-style fireplace, and a heart-shaped swimming pool.

After purchasing this prime real estate near the Yin Mountains on the Mongolian plateau and building a skyscraper as the company headquarters, guild president White Cherry had personally overseen its extravagant decoration. Shavri made no comment on it.

The tech-savvy laser boots stepped onto the dark red wooden floor, patterned with auspicious clouds, as Shavri sat down in a plush leather sofa, his light golden hair cascading naturally over his shoulders.

Soon, the sound of automatic doors sliding open filled the room, and a burly, gray-haired man strode in. He wore a bright leather jacket, left open to reveal a Peppa Pig tattoo on his chest, along with baggy floral pants from Northeast China and a pair of purple loafers.

Such bold attire could make even the most praised fashion masters blind themselves in awe. “You’re killing me!” White Cherry exclaimed as he sat down on another sofa, complaining, “What’s been up with you lately, bro? The guys have been waiting for you to come online every day, it’s been tough.”

“Just some things to handle,” Shavri vaguely replied. The peculiar individual before him was their guild leader White Cherry, a man as extraordinary as they come. When founding the guild, he had brainstormed many names, choosing what he thought sounded best. Fortunately, seventeen-year-old Shavri had taken a closer look at the application interface at the time.

He had immediately vetoed the name “Crazy Venus Flytrap” despite White Cherry’s protests and, as the true financial backer, named the guild “Afanasi,” which means “immortality” in Russian.

“What could possibly keep you so preoccupied?” White Cherry couldn’t help his curiosity, having known Screw This, I’m Out! for a long time and watched him grow from a seventeen-year-old brat into an adult.

Screw This, I’m Out! had never revealed much about his real-life circumstances, but it was clear he must be some kind of young master. Screw This, I’m Out! was simply too wealthy; White Cherry couldn’t even begin to count how many points he had spent in Electric Fantasy Kingdom over the past eight years.

Shavri was silent for a moment before asking, “Brother White, if you found out that a friend suddenly changed their behavior, and there might be more to the story, what would you do?”

“Behavior change?” White Cherry thought for a moment, “What kind of friend? If it’s someone really close, just ask him directly.”

Shavri paused, “Not a particularly close friend.”

“Then… maybe probe a bit? But it must be a pretty outrageous change to confuse you like this,” White Cherry suggested.

Shavri pondered for a while, then stood up, “Enough of that, let’s go check out the base in New Siberia.”

White Cherry quickly stood up and followed him to the elevator, “Have you not been online these days because of this?”

“…”

“You must be really concerned to think about it this much, so it can’t be just some acquaintance,” White Cherry observed Shavri’s expression and knew he had hit the mark.

He understood Screw this, I’m out

! all too well; usually reserved and secretive, he housed an extremely sensitive princess in his heart. How did Caige Ou describe him? Right, a prince with princess syndrome.

White Cherry was suddenly more interested, leaning close to Shavri, trying to see past the luminous glasses, and boldly guessed, “Is it a lover? Did someone coldly dump you?”

“…No.”

“Really?” White Cherry was skeptical.

Shavri removed his goggles, revealing his pale purple crystal-like eyes, and said coldly, “Can you stop talking nonsense?”

“Alright, alright,” White Cherry dropped the subject, but Shavri’s reaction had already given him the answer—indeed dumped, poor kid.

Since that was the case, he and the other brothers definitely needed to provide some emotional support. Within fifteen minutes, a message spread like a virus among the members of Afanasi.

Soon, the entire guild knew that their vice president and finance minister, Screw this, I’m out!, had been cruelly dumped by his lover. Only Shavri himself was left in the dark.