Master of Masters 44

Chapter 44: Am I Worthy Now? [Koeyle, 80%]

“Live broadcast of Area A team’s battle in the secondary nuclear hole…”

He Yue, painting by the window, stopped.

The optical device notification sounded, a message from the authorities with a bold red headline appearing at the top. The comments section was filled with blessings, prayers, and worries.

A few comments mentioned Koeyle, saying things like, “With the colonel there, I feel like there won’t be any problems.”

He Yue scrolled to his private messages.

The last message in the chat log was a photo Koeyle had sent yesterday—

The female colonel, fully equipped, his epaulettes and intricate gear gleaming, a pistol at his waist, and another strapped to his back. His backpack was large, seemingly heavy.

His collar wasn’t fully buttoned, revealing a small section of the golden metal collar around his neck. It looked out of place with his combat gear, the gleaming metal catching the eye.

The text message above the photo read: “Fighting alongside Master.”

He Yue chuckled and exited the chat.

Just wearing a non-removable collar was considered fighting alongside him by the colonel.

He Yue recalled that he had indeed pulled the colonel back from the abyss several times. If it weren’t for him, whether it was pseudo-insectoidization or mental breakdown, Koeyle would have become a pile of insect corpses.

Numerous red dots flickered on the official public screen. They were the trackers carried by the team. If the last red dot disappeared, it meant the entire team had lost contact within the nuclear hole.

As he was lost in thought, a few red dots on the screen flickered, then vanished.

He Yue turned off the optical device.

Countless insects would be staring at those red dots, but it wouldn’t change anything except increase their anxiety. Those outside the nuclear hole couldn’t establish any direct contact with those inside, where the signal was completely disrupted.

(System, can you still check the conquest target’s mental state?) He Yue asked.

He now understood that the greatest threat to female insects wasn’t physical pain, but mental trauma.

The system’s voice came after a slight delay. [Yes, I can. Mental fluctuations detected in the conquest target, but still within normal levels.] Because of the system, He Yue was the only one in the entire insect race who knew Koeyle’s true life or death status.

Losing contact didn’t necessarily mean death. In the history of the insect race, there had been cases of female insects losing contact within the nuclear hole, but eventually emerging. However, losing contact was usually a bad omen. A destroyed tracker meant severe injury. It was incredibly difficult to heal and survive while trapped and injured inside.

A loud boom echoed, like a clap of thunder, or a heavy object striking the frozen planet. It reverberated like a drumbeat, pounding against his eardrums.

He Yue’s hand paused, the paint on his brush almost dripping onto the canvas.

The dark sky outside flashed with white light, followed by another muffled boom. The freezing weather, the almost perpetual darkness, and now the unknown thunder and lightning, made it feel more like the end of the world than any disaster movie He Yue had ever seen.

His easel and chair were by the window, the sound of snow and ice hitting the glass as loud as gunshots.

The blizzard, which had previously only raged at night, hadn’t stopped for a single moment since Koeyle’s team entered the nuclear hole, its intensity increasing, as if trying to tear the world apart.

Trapped in the house, listening to this sound day and night, it was easy for one’s spirit to break, even more so than one’s will.

The online forums were filled with complaints and cries for help; most of the other insects trapped at home were also struggling. The authorities couldn’t count the number of deaths, but judging by the overwhelming number of desperate posts, there were probably many female and male insects who had insectoidized due to mental breakdowns.

He Yue looked out the window. The un-cleared snow had almost reached the height of the first floor. He rarely went to the first floor now; the feeling of being trapped in a cave, surrounded by white, wasn’t pleasant.

“Master?”

He Yue snapped out of his thoughts and turned around, seeing a fluffy head poking through the studio door, looking at him cautiously. He beckoned him over.

“Are you alright?”

The thunder almost drowned out Wien’s soft voice.

He squatted at He Yue’s feet, his tall frame forcing him to look up, his expression gentle and affectionate.

“Do I look like someone who’s afraid of thunder and snow?”

A powerful soul from another world resided in this seemingly frail male insect body. He Yue was much stronger than those complaining insects on the optical network.

He Yue signed his name and the date in the bottom right corner of the painting with a fine-liner pen.

It was a rather abstract painting. A few messy black lines outlined a tall figure wielding a strangely shaped whip, and another figure kneeling on the ground, covered in blood.

The red paint had various shades, not a monotonous crimson. Some areas were brighter, some darker where it had dripped onto the ground.

Just two colors, red and black, created a painting with both beauty and profound meaning.

Wien recalled the gruesome oil painting he had seen at the entrance of the auction house and felt that this painting had the same artistic depth.

Moreover, there was a real story behind this painting, a story about the only hope of an entire race facing an existential crisis, and the true savior who pulled him out of the abyss.

For He Yue, that experience was a rare sensation in his life. He wasn’t usually the type of trainer who would use brute force to push his prey to the brink of death, but this time, he had truly enjoyed this violent aesthetic. It was strangely addictive, and he even wondered if it would change his usual training methods.

Wien’s gaze was fixed on the painting, captivated by its unfamiliar artistic charm. He wanted to offer some sincere praise, but knowing who was depicted on the canvas, the words caught in his throat.

Just how impactful must that experience have been for He Yue to capture it with his brush?

The bloody scene seemed to be etched in his mind, and Wien couldn’t help but wish that the female insect kneeling under He Yue’s whip was himself.

A sharp cracking sound attracted their attention.

The sound was very close, seemingly coming from the nearest window.

A crack appeared on the high-grade bulletproof glass, almost hidden beneath the frost, but still visible upon closer inspection.

“Master! Get down…”

Wien’s shout was drowned out by a loud clap of thunder, accompanied by a flash of white light and a loud shattering sound. The large window cracked, and shards of glass rained down as the icy wind and snow blasted inside.

He Yue instinctively recoiled, feeling a figure rush in front of him, like a thick wall, blocking the wind and snow.

At the same time, his vision was filled with snow and blood.

Then, everything went black.

Wien had pulled him into his arms, covering his eyes with his rough, calloused hand. Before He Yue could even speak, he felt himself being lifted and carried out of the studio.

The physically fit military female, who never missed a workout, and He Yue, the slightly slender male insect, were a stark contrast in physique. Wien effortlessly lifted him with one arm and carried him out.

He Yue had never been lifted and carried like this before.

The studio door slammed shut, blocking the wind and snow.

“Master, are you alright? Are you injured?”

Shards of glass pierced Wien’s back and arms, warm blood soaking his clothes and trickling down.

“I’m fine, are your wounds alright?” He Yue asked, looking up.

Wien breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head.

Wounds that would be considered serious for humans and male insects were trivial for female insects.

When He Yue had whipped Koeyle mercilessly in the basement, only to see him walking around the house the next day, wrapped in bandages but otherwise fine, his understanding of a female insect’s physiology had been redefined.

If there were Earth in this dimension, the insect race would probably wipe out human civilization.

He Yue finally understood the confidence in Koeyle’s voice when he had declared he wouldn’t break.

His gaze shifted from the wounds on Wien’s arm to the painting he was holding.

“Why are you still holding the painting?” He Yue took the newly finished painting from his hand.

Wien scratched his head. “It’s Master’s hard work, it can’t be ruined.”

There was more red on the painting now, not paint, but Wien’s blood. Most of it hadn’t coagulated yet, and as He Yue held the canvas upright, the blood continued to drip down.

Wien also saw the blood, his surprise mixed with guilt.

Red fingerprints, splattered blood droplets, streaks of blood…

“I’m sorry…” Wien lowered his head, disappointed and dejected. He had wanted to save the painting from the shattered window, but now he had ruined it even more than the snow and melting paint.

He Yue tilted his head, examining the painting, and took out a fine-liner pen from his shirt pocket. He pointed the tip at a blank spot in the bottom right corner and placed the pen in Wien’s hand.

“Sign your name.”

Wien, puzzled, still obeyed, signing his name below He Yue’s. He returned the pen to He Yue and said, “This is Master’s painting…”

“I know, but now it’s our painting.”

The blood on the canvas was half-dry, gradually darkening. It wasn’t as thick as oil paint, instead creating unique patterns. The random, scattered bloodstains added a dynamic quality to the otherwise heavy image.

In the bottom right corner, on the blank space, two names were written in clearly different handwriting: He Yue’s, followed by Wien’s.

Wien’s hand, still gripping the edge of the canvas, trembled slightly. His lips quivered, and he couldn’t speak for a long time.

He felt that his earlier jealousy, because the painting depicted his Master and Koeyle, was incredibly petty. Now, without saying a word, his Master had made him feel better.

He should do something for his Master.

“Master, wait for me!”

Wien, ignoring the wounds on his back, even the embedded glass shards, ran off, not even hearing He Yue calling after him.

He grabbed the toolbox and a few metal sheets and rushed into the studio without a word, slamming the door shut.

Loud claps of thunder echoed from outside, the sound of snow and ice hitting the glass still incessant. He Yue stood outside the studio door, holding the canvas, his face puzzled.

Where did this guy go?

Wien opened the door and came out, the shattered window no longer letting in the cold wind. He hadn’t even bothered to put on a coat, his hands and feet red from the cold, his face covered in snow, the blood on his back long since coagulated, either from the low temperature or his own healing ability.

“What were you doing?”

He Yue looked inside the studio. Thick metal sheets were now nailed over the broken window, tightly sealed, blocking the wind and snow.

The snow that had blown in quickly melted, leaving the wooden floor damp. The time between the window shattering and Wien’s repair was short enough that the paintings and tools inside were unharmed.

He Yue didn’t bother checking the tools he didn’t particularly care about, instead placing his warm hand against Wien’s cold cheek.

“These aren’t particularly valuable things.”

“But they are Master’s hard work.”

The little dog didn’t consider them ordinary trinkets.

They were Master’s hard work, priceless treasures.

He Yue hadn’t checked the official nuclear hole updates on his optical device for a long time, until a notification appeared: “Headquarters announces the long-awaited immigration plan. Please fill out the survey if you meet the requirements…”

He clicked on it and saw the official requirement: “All male insects and one freely chosen female insect.”

Below this news, on the nuclear hole live feed, only a single, intermittently flickering red dot remained.

(System?)

[Host, the conquest target’s mental power is fluctuating within the normal range.]

Koeyle was still alive, but headquarters seemed to have given up on him. The other female insects of the insect race were still staring at the flickering red dot on the screen, helpless.

It might disappear completely at any moment.

“Master, the survey for the plan, do you want to fill it…”

A deafening boom drowned out Wien’s voice.

At the same time, the red dot on the screen vanished, never to light up again.

He Yue stared blankly at the empty black screen, a ringing in his ears from the loud noise.

(System, my 75%.)

The system’s mechanical voice hesitated, a hint of trepidation. [Host… the conquest target’s mental power is fluctuating within the normal range…]

That was indeed the result of its scan, but looking at the blank screen, it seemed uncertain.

(Is this one of your automated replies?)

[It’s truly fluctuating within the normal range.]

The mechanical voice was incredibly earnest.

He Yue read through the official immigration plan. It was about using hibernation pods and spaceships to leave this planet and search for habitable planets in other star systems.

The document looked like a resolution hastily passed in an emergency meeting, even containing a few typos.

Yes, typos in an official document, as absurd as a voice-to-text draft.

The comments section was in chaos, both male and female insects arguing. However, the name “Koeyle” was nowhere to be found.

“Trusting this document is less reliable than trusting Colonel Koeyle.” He Yue didn’t fill out the form, scoffing before closing his optical device.

The insect world was truly a disorganized mess.

“Master, the snow has stopped.”

He Yue finally noticed the change outside.

Yes, the snow had stopped.

Less than an hour after Koeyle’s tracker disappeared, the authorities had hastily released a flawed proposal, and the entire insect race seemed to have given up on the colonel trapped in the nuclear hole…

The snow in Area A had stopped.

The room was quiet. There was no sound of wind and snow hitting the reinforced windows, the silence amplifying the sound of He Yue’s own breathing.

“Wien, remove the metal sheets and take a look.”

A thick layer of frost covered the glass window of the small living room on the second floor. The metal sheets clattered as Wien tossed them aside. Then, silence returned, and they listened intently to the sounds outside.

Silence.

Since Koeyle entered the Area A nuclear hole, the wind and snow hadn’t stopped, the thunder rumbling like a monstrous roar, occasionally tormenting their ears. The entire insect planet was like meat on a chopping block, being pounded by the monster.

And now, the world seemed to have fallen asleep, the roaring monster along with it.

(System, check the conquest target’s mental state!)

[No significant fluctuations detected in the conquest target’s mental state.]

The optical network exploded with activity, the news of the snow stopping in Area A overshadowing the absurd immigration plan, the sheer number of people discussing it almost crashing the network.

Then, on the first day after Koeyle’s signal disappeared, daylight returned to Area A.

On the second day, the temperature in Area A rapidly rose above zero.

On the third day, the temperature in Area B and Area C also began to rise.

On the fourth day, there was minor flooding in some areas of Area A, and the temperature rose to over ten degrees Celsius.

On the fifth day, the sixth day…

The tentacles around the Area A nuclear hole disappeared. It remained there, quietly, a mysterious energy emanating from its edges, like a psychedelic gateway to another world. Countless daring insects went to the nuclear hole, taking photos and leaving their marks.

The base set up a cordon around the nuclear hole to ensure their safety.

Everyone, having been cooped up in their homes, poured onto the streets, breathing in the fresh air. The snow had completely melted, every brick clean and new after being washed by the snowmelt.

He Yue, wearing light clothing, rarely venturing out of the sealed house, came to the street not far from the nuclear hole.

The streets were crowded, and even though the seemingly harmless nuclear hole was still within sight, they didn’t pay much attention to it. The sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air, as if they had completely emerged from the shadow of disaster, even entering a state of revelry.

Everyone had been cooped up for too long.

He Yue walked through the cheerful crowd, step by step. He and Koeyle were the first in the entire insect race to witness the birth of this nuclear hole, and now, seeing it seemingly dormant, he felt a sense of change, of time having passed.

Sunlight, the rare sunlight, shone on the edge of the nuclear hole, making it gleam.

“Hello, sir!” A male insect with a camera approached He Yue, pointing to the camera hanging around his neck. “Can I take a few street snaps of you?”

He Yue was only wearing casual clothes, but the long-absent sunlight illuminated him, his pale skin glowing, his long hair cascading down his back.

He was incredibly eye-catching, just standing there.

Seeing He Yue’s silence, the insect quickly said, “Sir, you look amazing just standing there, like a natural model. I really want to capture this moment. It’s fine if you don’t want to, though.”

Photographers, like painters, liked to capture beautiful or impactful things. He Yue understood and nodded.

“Alright, alright, thank you! Just look wherever you like, sir, I’ll take a few shots from here.” The male insect’s voice was filled with excitement, the sound of the shutter clicking continuously.

“In, inside the nuclear hole!!”

A cry came from the crowd behind them, followed by a chorus of screams. The insects scattered in panic, the scene descending into chaos.

The male insect with the camera ran off without even leaving his contact information, his escape clumsy and panicked.

He Yue turned around and saw a blood-stained hand reaching out from inside the nuclear hole.

Dark mud and solidified blood clung to the hand, almost obscuring its original form.

“Master, be careful!” Wien stepped in front of He Yue protectively. “Shall we go?” He was about to pull He Yue away when He Yue stopped him.

The hand gripped the edge of the nuclear hole, pulling a body out, until a full figure emerged.

He Yue was the first in the entire crowd to recognize the almost unrecognizable insect.

“Koeyle?”

He Yue pulled at the cordon, about to cross it.

“It’s dangerous over there, Master, you can’t go!” The patrolling female insect didn’t dare to touch him, but shouted.

The other insects quieted down after He Yue spoke the name, those who had been about to flee stopping and turning back.

Even upon closer inspection, they couldn’t recognize Koeyle.

Half of his face was mangled, one eye closed, the other blinking wearily. The hand that had gripped the edge of the nuclear hole was his only one; the other arm was severed at the shoulder, dripping blood.

He dragged himself forward, leaving a long trail of blood behind him.

“Master…” Koeyle reached out his remaining hand towards He Yue, then retracted it, seeing He Yue’s clean hands and clothes.

He Yue ducked under the cordon and walked over, the patrolling female insect and Wien, standing beside him, not stopping him.

He Yue reached out and took Koeyle’s hand, not minding the blood and mud.

“You’ve worked hard, Colonel Koeyle.”

He wasn’t speaking on anyone’s behalf, just expressing his sincere gratitude.

With the secondary nuclear hole resolved, the nuclear hole crisis had passed its most dangerous point. The entire insect race should be commending the colonel, but now, only He Yue stood before him.

“Master, this is our victory…”

He moved his hand slightly, pulling out a metal chain from his tattered pocket with difficulty.

It was broken, the severed end showing signs of burning, its length much shorter than before.

The metal chain lay quietly in Koeyle’s palm, gleaming under the long-absent sunlight, the unstained parts still reflecting a bright light.

“This is… our victory…” Koeyle repeated.

[Mental fluctuations detected in the conquest target, occasionally exceeding normal levels.]

The system’s voice suddenly rang out.

Koeyle hadn’t experienced such intense mental fluctuations even when facing life-or-death situations inside the nuclear hole. His heart pounded, and the metal chain in his hand seemed to burn even hotter.

His eyes were bloodshot, the redness making him look like a demon emerging from hell. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the mud and dried blood, tracing a path down his cheeks.

“Why are you crying? This is a moment for celebration.” He Yue reached out and covered Koeyle’s hand with his own, holding it tightly.

Koeyle didn’t have the strength to stand straight, his body bent at a sharp angle, his forehead almost touching He Yue’s shoulder. He was using all his strength to prevent himself from collapsing against He Yue.

But He Yue took a step forward, letting him lean against him.

“Master… am I worthy now, to call you ‘Master’?”

Months ago, they had made a bet in the studio. Back then, He Yue had told Koeyle that he should wait until he could say “Master” sincerely.

A bullet fired months ago had now accurately hit Koeyle between the eyes.

He Yue smiled meaningfully.

“You are worthy.” He Yue touched his messy hair. “From now on, truly be my dog.”

The title “Master” was finally bestowed upon Koeyle at 80%.

Koeyle closed his eyes contentedly, the broken metal chain digging into his palm.

There was a visible, incomplete burn mark on his neck, shaped like a chain. He had faced unknown, terrifying monsters with this metal chain around his neck, fighting back desperately even when his team was almost completely wiped out, never giving up, never breaking down.

In the depths of despair, explosions and flames had scorched his body, finally breaking the chain around his neck. He had dragged his broken body through the flames and retrieved the chain.

As if it truly gave him strength.

Koeyle snapped out of his memories, seeing the crowd outside the cordon, keeping their distance out of concern for their own safety. He also noticed He Yue, willing to approach him, to stand before him, offering his shoulder to the injured and weakened colonel.

The colonel’s voice was hoarse, clearly injured by the flames, yet sincere and devout.

“Master.”

[Koeyle, 80%.]