Chapter 28

He Zhao stood off to the side, feeling a bit awkward. He quietly asked Lu Mingjin, “So… are we still pulling this blood or not?”

Lu Mingjin’s face was expressionless. He spat out a single word. “Pull.”

Unfortunately, the omega, whose hearing seemed to work only when it was inconvenient, caught that word perfectly. A loud wail erupted as he cried even harder.

He clung to the Alpha’s neck, practically kicking and rolling with grief. This left the other two exchanging a glance, completely baffled as to why the reaction was so intense.

…

Lu Mingjin’s eyelid twitched. After a long pause, he relented. “Forget it.”

He Zhao inwardly grimaced. He knew it. He had come here to play the villain in this act, but Lu Mingjin clearly couldn’t follow through with the plan. Every creature has its vanquisher. He looked at the omega in Lu Mingjin’s arms, pitiful and innocent. He Zhao cleared his throat; this was not a place to linger. Without a second thought, he performed a quick check-up, confirmed everything was fine, and immediately retreated.

Before he left, Lu Mingjin’s mournful voice drifted from behind him. “Double your leave. Don’t speak of what happened today.”

Heh. So Major General Lu cared about his reputation, after all.

Bai Ruonian’s hearing was poor, so he didn’t catch that. But his sense of smell was quite sharp. Somehow, some of his cat characteristics had followed him into this rebirth. He wrinkled his nose; He Zhao’s scent had already vanished.

Heh heh. Threat eliminated.

He lifted his face, meeting Lu Mingjin’s dark, inky eyes directly. Lu Mingjin had been staring at him the entire time—searching, analyzing, and with a hint of amusement that suggested he’d already seen through every little act.

“Done faking?”

Bai Ruonian shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “Wasn’t faking.”

It wasn’t that he was afraid of needles. Well, okay, he was a little afraid of needles. But more than that, he felt wronged.

In the past, whenever it was time for a blood draw, the vet would try to take him from his master’s arms. Every single time, his master would snatch him back. Usually, after three rounds of this tug-of-war, his master would lose, and only then would his blood be drawn. Even then, his master would pet and soothe him the whole time, saying he’d done his best.

Now his master had become so cold. Just because he wasn’t fluffy anymore didn’t mean he should be treated like this!

Lu Mingjin had no idea about the emotional journey Bai Ruonian was on. The little guy was exactly like his cat—even his reaction to getting blood drawn was identical. His cat was the same way. He’d had to put on a dramatic three-round wrestling match in front of it, or else it would hold a grudge and refuse to cooperate. And even then, it would whimper and tremble the whole time.

Now, the omega in his arms was still whimpering and trembling with grievance.

… He really did miss his cat.

“No one ever used to let anyone draw my blood before…” Bai Ruonian mumbled.

A sharp glint flashed in Lu Mingjin’s eyes. Although Bai Ruonian’s words were muffled, he still heard them. “Before?”

Bai Ruonian sniffled and happened to hiccup from his crying fit, missing the question entirely.

Lu Mingjin lowered his head, leaning closer to ask again. “Before—who wouldn’t let anyone draw your blood?”

What ‘before’? Who?

This time, Bai Ruonian heard him. He assumed Lu Mingjin was asking about the original host of this body. After all, no one would ever guess he was a reborn cat. That would just be too weird. He paused to think, then swallowed. “My mom.”

Fine. Lu Mingjin looked away. He’d uncover the truth eventually. He glanced at the omega in his arms and led him out of the game room. The sky outside was darkening into twilight. “Go take a bath, then sleep.”

Bai Ruonian clung to his master’s arm, but his eyes lingered longingly on the gaming pod. He still wanted to play.

Lu Mingjin followed his gaze and raised an eyebrow. On a normal day, forget omegas, even someone like Zhao Lixin found the intranet’s intensity hard to handle. But Bai Ruonian not only had the energy to play more, but also the energy to cry—and cry so loudly, too.

“Still want to play?”

Bai Ruonian hesitated, then whispered, “Yes.”

He didn’t really care much about the game’s promise of getting into the Imperial Academy or anything. He just found it genuinely thrilling. Mainly, he liked pouncing on the Zerg. And his master’s mecha was so damn cool.

He couldn’t read Lu Mingjin’s current expression, so he tried to butter him up, nuzzling against him. “And I want to play with you some more.”

“Oh.” Lu Mingjin’s lips unconsciously curled up before he quickly suppressed the smile. “Bath first.”

Eh?! What did that mean? Bai Ruonian blinked his big eyes at Lu Mingjin. Was he interpreting that correctly?

“I might play with you for a bit later,” Lu Mingjin said flatly. “Mainly to assess your talent.”

“Okay!” Bai Ruonian’s mood flipped as easily as it had soured, like a little animal. He immediately jumped right out of Lu Mingjin’s arms, slipped on his slippers, and pattered upstairs. “I’m going to take a bath right now!”

Ever since he’d become a human, baths hadn’t been so scary!

He left Lu Mingjin standing there, empty-handed, who could only look down at the tear-streaked, damp spots glittering on his own clothes.

Bai Ruonian had tried to be as fast as possible, but he still didn’t dare use the bathtub. He spent a long time psyching himself up just to turn on the shower. When he finally finished his bath and passed by the study in his half-open bathrobe, he saw Lu Mingjin in a meeting. The door was ajar, and Lu Mingjin’s voice drifted out, sounding somewhat impatient. It seemed like they were discussing military exercises, or maybe some mission.

Bai Ruonian hesitated, deciding not to push the door open and go in. He turned and went back downstairs. No matter. He could start playing by himself first.

Cats are naturally curious about new things. Right now, his curiosity about this game was sky-high. Nothing could stop him from playing. With that thought, he happily slipped back into the game room, opened the pod, and logged in quickly. A flash of white light, and he was back in the hall.

First, he checked his friends list. “Call Me Majesty Highness” wasn’t online either.

So much for the idea of a duo Arena. Since he’d just fought Zerg on the intranet anyway, he walked over to the Star Map. Just as he was about to select the Zerg Star Domain, a red mecha suddenly appeared in front of him, blocking his action.

“Excuse me, could you move…” Bai Ruonian looked up as he spoke, but froze mid-sentence. Wasn’t this Venom Sting, the guy from the Arena last time? The one who’d tried to kill him for having a low combat rating? Running into him today—what a narrow path for enemies.

Venom Sting, however, didn’t look surprised to see him. It was clearly a premeditated ambush. He took two arrogant steps forward, forcing Bai Ruonian to retreat instinctively. Bai Ruonian raised his chin, about to speak, but was shoved by someone beside him.

“Well, look who it is. Isn’t this the little newbie you said stole your stuff?”

“An eye for an eye, a debt must be paid. You stole my friend’s stuff, so don’t think you’re leaving today.”

“All alone today, huh?” Venom Sting’s laugh was grating. He stepped forward again. “Got no one to protect you today?”

He’d been staking out Bai Ruonian for ages, with the intention of reclaiming his place and getting his precious Mental Stone back. But every other time, the guy had that flashy, blinged-out mecha with the huge wings hanging around him—way too risky for payback. Today, he’d finally caught him alone. He’d urgently called for backup. No way this kid could pull any tricks now.

Bai Ruonian looked around. He was surrounded by a circle of players who had silently cut him off from the rest. Every one of their mechas bore a purple snake emblem: a guild marking. Bai Ruonian was a cat, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew this was a revenge squad.

He looked at Venom Sting standing before him and tilted his head. “Couldn’t beat me last time, so you brought goons?”

Venom Sting’s expression stiffened at the question, but he forced a cold sneer. “Me? Bring goons to deal with a 1500-combat newbie? You stole my item and won’t give it back. I just called everyone here today to be witnesses. To see what happens to someone who takes my things.”

A vicious glint flashed in his eyes. “I’ll make sure you have the loot but can’t use it. I’ll beat you until you have PTSD just logging into this game.”

By now, the guild had sectioned off a whole area in the Central Hall. But it didn’t stop the nosy spectators. The public chat was scrolling rapidly.

“What’s going on? A whole gang ganging up on one newbie?”

“1500 combat is pretty decent for a newbie, though.”

“Decent doesn’t help against a mob like that. Someone give me the backstory.”

“I will! That red mecha tried to ambush him in the Arena and got killed instead. Now he’s camping for revenge. Pathetic.”

“The guy can’t even come alone—he had to call his buddies. And he still waited until the guy was alone… This dude will never amount to anything in life.”

Venom Sting’s face twisted. “Shut up! What’s there to chat about?”

The public chat was right on the money, though. But this was him being prepared. That little squirt had some real talent. And with that flashy mecha usually flanking him, going solo wasn’t an option. Besides, that Mental Stone was priceless. He’d grinded who knows how long just to knock it off some other player. To have it looted by this kid, with some cheap trick no less—how could he accept that?

The onlookers watching from a safe distance, of course, had no reason not to stir the pot. The more they were told to stop, the more they typed. “You own this public chat? You say stop, we stop?”

“Ha, not only am I not stopping, I’m gonna submit this to the StarNet Star Dome Bot. Let everyone see the sore loser who can’t handle a newbie beating him for an item and gangs up to surround him.”

This only made Venom Sting’s humiliation burn hotter. Enraged, he ignored the chat and walked straight toward Bai Ruonian. “My Mental Stone. Give it back. Now.”

Bai Ruonian stood his ground and didn’t make a sound.

Venom Sting took his silence for fear. He moved closer and shoved Bai Ruonian’s white mecha, making it stagger. His guild cronies, seeing his silence, closed in as well.

“Little newbie, you gotta play by the rules. Trying to trick my bro—being this sneaky at a game? What’s next for you?”

“Why waste words on a kill-stealing little thief? Trash like this doesn’t deserve to play.” Another guy was already cracking his knuckles. “Let’s just beat him so hard he never dares to log in again. End of story.”

Venom Sting shoved him again, grinding his teeth. “Are you giving it back or not?!”

Bai Ruonian looked down, still silent. He pulled the Mental Stone out from his small pack.

“That’s more like it,” Venom Sting said smugly. “Told you already, you could take it but never use it. Messing with me…”

But he stopped mid-sentence, stunned. Bai Ruonian lowered his head, the glittering Mental Stone in his hand, and with a sharp click, he socketed it directly onto his own mecha. A crisp sound rang out. A gem now blazed brilliantly on the white mecha.

Players in this game had two inventories: a carry pack and a storage locker. Items in the carry pack dropped upon death; items in the storage locker didn’t. And by the same logic, neither did items socketed into a mecha. Bai Ruonian might not have said a word, but his action declared loudly and clearly: He wasn’t giving it back.