The departed were gone, but the war was not over.
Shi Yuxing’s tea-colored eyes fixed on the fabric stuck to the alpha’s back wound, soaked with blood. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “This is going to hurt a bit. Can you take it?”
“Yes.” The man sat cross-legged with his back to Shi Yuxing, his back broad and thick. The deep grooves between his well-defined muscles rose and fell with each breath, like layered mountain ranges.
Blood dripped as the fabric was peeled away. The alpha didn’t move a muscle, as if he’d lost all sensation. Shi Yuxing quickly cleaned the wound, truly admiring Da Ling’s pain tolerance. Watching the fresh tissue tear away made Shi Yuxing clench his jaw—yet Gu Lingzhou didn’t let out a single sound.
“Raise your arms.”
Shi Yuxing pulled the gauze across, threading his hand under the alpha’s armpit, brushing against his hot, firm chest multiple times.
“Tell me if it’s too tight.”
“You’re doing great.”
The encouraging tone was effective—Shi Yuxing felt a little better as he tied off the bandage.
Just then, a soldier brought over two loaves of bread. “For you.” Shi Yuxing took them. Glancing over, he saw the little girl, still clutching her dirty plushie, stumbling toward Lin Anran with her bread.
“Uncle, here, for you.” The little girl held out the bread. Lin Anran’s gaze shifted from Lin Wuyang’s face to her, and he shook his head gently. “You eat it. I’m not hungry.”
The little girl looked into his eyes, dropped her plushie, and reached out. Her small, chubby palm touched his face—the dry yet wet skin was soothed by that soft touch. In her sweet, childish voice, she comforted him: “Uncle, don’t cry. This big brother is just sleeping—just like my daddy.”
Lin Anran sniffled and forced the corner of his mouth up into a painful smile. “Why do you call him ‘big brother’ and me ‘uncle’?”
“Because Mommy says only children need to be held.” Her soft, innocent voice was pure. Lin Anran’s eyes blurred again with tears, two large droplets falling—Lin Wuyang was only twenty-six, still a child.
Shi Yuxing looked away. The bread wrapper crinkled under his grip. A magnetic, hoarse voice came from beside him: “This might be fate.” Shi Yuxing looked up. Da Ling’s eyes held emotions he couldn’t read.
“One of these twins was destined to die.”
“Why?” Shi Yuxing froze, his blood feeling as if it had reversed. “What do you know?”
The man let out a long breath. “In my timeline, the one who died wasn’t his brother.” The alpha’s dark eyes were heavy as he explained: “Originally, that double-headed mantis pierced your colleague. But in this timeline, he was saved. This might be karma—if he hadn’t been saved, his brother never would have died. Precisely because he was saved, his brother took the hit for him.”
Shi Yuxing’s tea-colored pupils contracted sharply. His thin lips parted slightly but no sound came out. The next second, Da Ling’s eyes shifted to behind him. Shi Yuxing turned—An Bao and his proper husband had stopped in front of him. Gu Lingzhou’s expression was serious, but his eyes softened when they met Shi Yuxing’s. “We need to go to the shelter. Stay here and don’t wander off.”
“What happened?” Shi Yuxing asked.
“Your little husband is missing.” An Bao cut in. Shi Yuxing’s eyes scanned the area before he realized—Xiao Zhou was indeed gone. No wonder something had felt off.
Gu Lingzhou’s expression was grave: “They lost contact near the shelter. Officer An and I are taking some people over there now. We’ll be back soon.”
“I’m coming with you.” Shi Yuxing said firmly. The alpha behind him immediately echoed the sentiment. Gu Lingzhou frowned, about to refuse—when Da Ling spoke again, saying words that made all three of their faces change.
“I know where the Zerg Queen—the mastermind behind all this—is hiding.”
·
Rows of neat white cocoons hung from upright steel rebar and crumbling concrete structures. Whether they swayed with the breeze or because the things inside were struggling was unclear.
A timid soldier trembled: “What… are those things?”
“Some Zerg spin silk to wrap people up like cicada pupae. After a while, the person melts inside.” Da Ling explained. They’d been searching for the missing third team and, following a faint signal source, had dug their way to this patch of ruins.
“Hey! Third Team—are you still alive?!” An Bao roared. His loud voice carried into the distance. Several cocoons stirred, emitting cries for help. An Bao immediately ordered his men to tear them open.
Gu Lingzhou’s brows pressed above his eyes. The cocoons, large enough to hold a grown adult, were like airtight nets. Staying inside too long would cause suffocation even without melting.
The nearest cocoon, slashed open by a soldier with a knife, spilled foul-smelling green mucus onto the ground. A mutilated body slid out with it—his clothes and skin partially corroded by the green fluid, half his skull exposed, one eye socket an empty black hole. The gruesome sight sent chills down Shi Yuxing’s spine. Stomach acid rose in his throat. The physical nausea and fear made his legs weak—fortunately, Gu Lingzhou caught his waist in time, preventing him from collapsing.
“Lean on me and take a moment,” Gu Lingzhou held him, stroking his back gently. The image from before flashed through Shi Yuxing’s mind. He slumped against his shoulder, dry heaving. He’d dissected corpses before, but never anything this disgusting.
The fir-scented pheromones soothed his nerves. After a moment, Shi Yuxing’s body trembled as he choked out: “Is Xiao Zhou in there too…”
“It’s okay. Look—some of them are waking up.”
Shi Yuxing followed his pointing finger. Several soldiers, also covered in green mucus, were kneeling on the ground gasping for air. Aside from flushed faces, they were all intact—no missing limbs. An Bao helped one of them up. “Where’s the vice-captain? What happened? What did you encounter?”
The soldier, having narrowly escaped death, gasped for fresh air, stumbling into An Bao’s chest. After a long moment, he said tearfully: “Captain An, we were following your orders to find medical kits at the shelter when we discovered an unmarked Zerg hole. The vice-captain went to check and was swallowed whole by a Zerg lying in ambush. Before we could defend ourselves, the Zerg swarmed and knocked me out.”
Soon, all the cocoons had been opened. Da Ling made a round but didn’t find Xiao Zhou. Unease crept in. He looked up, scanning the area, then walked over to Gu Lingzhou, lowering his voice: “He’s not here.”
“What?” Gu Lingzhou’s face darkened. “Have you checked everywhere?”
“The faces of those who came out of the cocoons are all recognizable—there aren’t many people who are 190cm tall.”
Gu Lingzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Is he dead?”
The man before him closed his eyes. “If he were dead, we wouldn’t exist either.” Gu Lingzhou’s entire body trembled. If the 18-year-old Gu Lingzhou died, that meant both of them would disappear…
Suddenly, several gunshots interrupted their conversation, forcefully pulling Gu Lingzhou from his tangled thoughts. An Bao barked: “What’s going on?!” The moment he spoke, a giant multi-eyed long-legged Zerg jumped onto the already crumbling, leaky concrete structure.
The next second, the long-legged Zerg’s weight collapsed the concrete section. Clouds of dust rose. Shi Yuxing’s thin chest heaved as he grabbed the nearest injured person and covered their nose, ducking behind cover.
The patient breathed rapidly. “It’s that one—it spits silk! Everyone be careful!”
The long-legged Zerg was shot through the body but still managed to stand, trying to entangle the special forces with its silk. But these soldiers were professionally trained Imperial military personnel—not only did they remain unscathed, they worked together to shoot out several of the Zerg’s eyes.
The long-legged Zerg let out an enraged shriek. Then, the whistle of metal cut through the air—the Zerg’s head hit the ground. Gu Lingzhou descended from above in his mech.
Shi Yuxing’s eyes lit up. He’d heard that only one in ten thousand people on Imperial Planet could barely pilot a mech—Gu Lingzhou must be the best among them.
Just as Shi Yuxing felt proud of his husband, a familiar tremor shook the ground. The already dilapidated structure collapsed entirely into ruins. In the distance, a horrifying sight emerged—countless Zerg poured out of a massive opening. Though not as large as the ones they’d seen before, they were dense as a tide, surging toward them.
The wasp Zerg were severed by Gu Lingzhou’s blade. These Zerg, with only venomous stingers on their tails, caused little damage but were fast—Gu Lingzhou had to put in some effort to take them all out.
Unknown virus carriers were mowed down by gunfire. When the front line of Zerg died, the rear line pushed forward. Amid the chaotic smoke, Shi Yuxing crouched in a corner, protecting himself and not causing trouble. His peripheral vision caught Da Ling running in another direction. Shi Yuxing stood up, his gaze locked on his figure.
Shi Yuxing frowned. What was he doing?
The nimble figure vaulted over a broken wall with one hand—and then vanished.
“Da Ling!” Shi Yuxing’s eyes flew wide open. He ran over. The closer he got, the stronger the fir pheromones became. Standing where the man had been, he discovered a hidden Zerg hole!
“I know where the Zerg Queen—the mastermind—is hiding.”
It took Shi Yuxing only a few seconds to understand—this idiot was going to sacrifice himself! He bit down on his lower lip, his head spinning with rage. He turned and shouted at the top of his lungs toward the fiery battlefield: “The Zerg Queen is here!”
The cry cut through the dim land, carried by the heavy wind over the broken roof, reaching the firelight with the dust.
An Bao looked over. He gave a few orders to his men, then sprinted toward Shi Yuxing.
“What’s going on?” An Bao moved fast, panting. “The Zerg Queen? Where? Why does it smell like Gu Lingzhou’s pheromones everywhere?” Following Shi Yuxing’s pointing finger, he saw a shallow hole, about three meters deep.
Shi Yuxing explained: “The Gu Lingzhou from the future jumped down.”
…
These Zerg, not yet fully intelligent, had arrogantly connected their underground tunnels without setting up defenses. The S-class alpha, with night vision superior to ordinary humans, used nothing more than an ordinary blade sheath to cut a path to the Zerg Queen’s chamber.
Along the way, there were few Zerg corpses—he hadn’t even encountered any large ones. Something felt off. But he quickly pushed the doubt aside. His pupils reflected a massive, bloated Zerg that took up almost the entire chamber, its rear end slowly producing eggs. As expected—the Queen was exhausted. He had to kill her before she passed her crown to the next Queen. Otherwise, a new Queen would rise again.
Gu Lingzhou didn’t hesitate. He plunged the blade in. The Queen squirmed, trying to escape—he stabbed her two more times.
Blood sprayed from her massive body. Her rear end stopped producing eggs. His heart leaped with joy—it was done. No more people would die.
Just as he turned to find the exit, soil crumbled from above. His heart pounded as he turned back to confirm the Queen was truly dead. The next second, his breath caught—his pupils filled with terror.
Leave a Reply