After the Zerg General Was Accidentally Marked - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: The Trap

Between being half-asleep and half-awake, several light footsteps slipped across the floor.

Sears rolled over sluggishly, and more sounds entered his ears. It was the sizzling of food hitting hot oil. Immediately after, the aroma of frying eggs drifted into his nostrils.

The military female’s nose twitched, he swallowed, and his eyelids moved twice.

Someone is cooking. It smells so good.

Brother…? he murmured subconsciously. Then he opened his eyes.

The checkered suspended ceiling above reminded him where he was. He was in the new home the new home with Everett and the little cub.

“Ahhh, so hot!”

“Don’t rush! Hey! It’s burnt!!”

“Ouch, holy crap! The oil popped!”

Chaotic noises came from the tiny kitchen.

When Sears pulled open the door, a flame suddenly leaped out, shooting from the bottom of the pan straight toward the ceiling.

The little high-rank’s feet were a long way from the stove; he was arched like a shrimp holding a spatula, trying his best to reach the frying pan that was splattering oil.

Opposite him, Bigu was crouched entirely on top of the refrigerator, a piece of charred toast hanging from his mouth.

Little Dummy stood in the middle, looking from one to the other, until the electronic screen turned into a crying face: “Help!”

Sears: …

Sears stepped forward and turned off the fire. He flipped the fried egg in the pan that looked somewhat okay, only to find the other side had turned almost completely black. He nearly burst out laughing.

In the end, breakfast was still made by Sears: toast with fried eggs and bacon. The toast was fried until the crust was golden and crispy; the eggs had a pinch of salt added, and when bitten into, the runny yolk flowed out.

It was actually a very basic breakfast, but because the previous comparison was so disastrous, Sears was showered with praise!

“Female brother’s cooking is so delicious! It’s not bitter at all!” This was Bigu.

“The military female doesn’t force Little Dummy with his second-hand body to cook, nor does he use Little Dummy to block hot oil!” Little Dummy’s expression changed to a smile, then to a thumbs-up. “Military female, good!”

“It’s my first time, I don’t have much experience… I’ll get better later!” Everett made excuses for himself, eating the half-burnt egg with tears in his eyes. “And this egg isn’t actually that bad… cough cough…”

“This is called the ‘scent of life,’ understand! It’s much better than cold, icy nutrient solutions!”

While clearing the dishes, Everett leaned toward Sears. “I’ll learn in the future! Right now, I just have less experience. Once I learn, we can divide the work.”

“From now on, you cook Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I’ll do Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. We’ll leave Sunday to Bigu.”

Bigu, who was munching on an apple nearby, looked up with a dazed face: “Huh?”

Sears laughed without giving any face. “Forget it. Asking Bigu to cook is harder than asking him to kill an insect.”

“I’ll just do Sundays.”

As soon as he said it, he realized what kind of commitment he had made. In an era where most military females lived on cheap nutrient solutions, he had promised to cook four days a week.

the once-vague and uncertain future became gradually clear through these conversations and interactions. He could even see the future of this little home: an “insect-and-robot” family of three insects and one robot—him, Everett, Bigu, and Little Dummy.

Home. Since his brother left, this was the first time in many years he had used this word to refer to a place.

Despite his years of military life, where the starships and the First Legion were essentially home, there was still a difference. As the supreme commander of the First Legion, the concern from his subordinates was always mixed with awe and distance. He had long grown accustomed to that.

Sears felt as if he had fallen into a trap a noisy trap filled with the scent of daily life.

Yesterday, he had intended to leave.

Because of that accidental pheromone “loss of control.”

It was a feeling hard to describe. It was as if all the pain and worry since his rebirth had vanished; his spirit and body converged into a boiling pleasure, and everything else disappeared. Only pure happiness and relaxation remained. Upon reaching the peak, he even felt as if he had returned to the unhatched insect egg, floating and wandering weightlessly.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t move; his only thought was: Don’t stop, more, longer, deeper… continue… continue…

This pleasure was addictive and irresistible.

It was Everett who noticed his abnormality and woke him up. In that state, where the little high-rank could have done anything, the only thing he did was wake him up and hand him a towel to wipe away the sweat and fluids.

Sears knew, of course, that high-rank pheromones had an aphrodisiac effect, and he knew external application was different from internal consumption. But regardless, a bit of saliva shouldn’t have…

This state was clearly abnormal. His reaction to the little high-rank’s pheromones seemed far too intense.

Research into mental power and pheromones had never reached a universal conclusion because reactions varied greatly between different grades and between different military females and high-ranks.

For example, so many high-ranks had tried before, yet only Everett could mark him.

Sears could not forgive his own loss of control. The thought of leaving surfaced once again.

But he waited until Little Dummy came back with the groceries and the cub, waited until the three insects ate dinner together, and waited until they finished washing up and used the optical-link projection to finish an entire movie of Zerg Guardians. Sears never found a chance to speak.

Fine, one night won’t make a difference.

Additionally, this pheromone accident wasn’t all embarrassment and downsides. Because of the licking of the wound, the repair progress of his mental sea jumped from 2% to 4%. It was a blessing in disguise.

Consequently, that night, Sears slept exceptionally deeply.

Until he was awakened by the aroma of food.

Until this moment, where he said he would be responsible for cooking Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday.

Before he could explain, the little high-rank immediately interjected: “Then it’s a deal!”

Sears was stunned; from the little high-rank’s tone, it seemed he believed Sears wasn’t lying. It was as if he truly believed Sears would stay and be responsible for cooking four days a week.

“I bought gloves and masks,” Everett added. “In the future, if I still need to help clean your wounds, I will definitely be very careful.”

“Or we can let Bigu or Little Dummy help you.”

“The injuries on your wings still need to be handled properly. I’ve never seen you fly the way you look soaring at high altitudes must be so cool!” The little high-rank looked very regretful. “It would be such a pity if I never get to see it!”

To be honest, as long as he was careful, it was difficult for high-rank pheromones to enter his bloodstream. And in terms of physical strength, the little high-rank was clearly no match for Sears. The other couldn’t force him.

So, therefore, thus…

“I’m going out,” Sears said.

“Going out before your injuries are healed?” Everett, who was playing games with Bigu via the projection, stood up quickly. “Aren’t you going to rest for a few days?”

“It won’t hinder me,” Sears said. “Besides, we’re out of money; we won’t even be able to afford next month’s rent.”

Little high-rank felt guilty; little high-rank lowered his head.

“I’m going to find a job. To earn money to support you all.”

“I can work too! And I’m a high-rank, I can collect government subsidies!” Everett made up his mind, planning to arrange a “no-work, just-pay” idle position for himself at the Magic Lamp Company today.

“But the merchandise is too expensive. Money is never enough,” Sears said, staring at the little high-rank. “Are you willing to return that merchandise?”

Whenever he thought about the little high-rank spending a hundred thousand on merchandise, his heart ached. His monthly salary as an Admiral had only been a hundred thousand.

The little high-rank immediately handed the kitchen waste to Sears. “Please drop this in the community trash can on your way, thanks!”

“I’ll be staying home today. The optical-link system just sent my mental test form; it shows B-grade. Because the gap is so large compared to before, they’re sending an insect in person. I have to wait for them at home.”

Before Sears could ask, the little high-rank poured out his entire schedule for the day like a bag of beans.

“But don’t worry, it’s very easy for a high-rank to find a job. I can definitely find work online today. So it doesn’t matter if you can’t find one,” Everett knew that the legitimate jobs a military female could find were actually very few. “Just don’t force yourself into illegal work!”

Sears didn’t want to talk; he waved his hand and headed out.

The little high-rank chased him to the door. “When will you be back?”

Sears estimated the time. “Before dinner.”

It wasn’t an ambiguous “in a while” or “after I’m done,” but a clear and accurate “before dinner.”

Because Sears had decided: he would stay, and come back for dinner.

“Today is Monday,” Everett reminded him righteously. “Remember to come back with the meal.”

Sears: …

Deciding to stay on the transit star was not a momentary impulse.

Since Sears was being wanted by the Empire as a fugitive, the inspections at the spaceport were nearly ten times stricter than before, and Walter was no fool. Smuggling himself out now carried too high a risk of discovery and capture.

Therefore, as a second-best option, he needed to contact one of the adjutants of the First Legion in Sector H, Adam, as soon as possible.

But the problem was, Sector H was too far from the junction of Sector A and Sector B where they were.

Even in this high-tech Zerg Empire where optical-links were everywhere, distance remained a major challenge. Even though spaceships could travel at warp speeds or jump, both came with massive energy consumption.

A medium-sized ship could only carry about a hundred insects; wanting to perform an inter-sector jump would consume enough blue spice energy to power the lives of every insect on the Capital Star for an entire month.

This massive energy consumption meant that long-distance travel was exceptionally expensive.

But there were exceptions. For instance, Sears had once piloted the Ireson and reached Sector E from Sector H instantly under a 100% link. The energy consumption was only 10% of a normal jump.

In that situation, what was actually being consumed was him and his mental power.

Similarly, long-distance communication faced the same high energy consumption issues. Therefore, most sectors had an information time lag. To communicate in real-time, one had to compress the information and use a star as a slingshot for signal amplification and ejection.

And such long-distance communication equipment was only available at the military department on Planet Corvus-3H.

Sears had observed the communication building; neither a direct assault nor a stealthy infiltration would be easy.

So he needed to find a job in the military department and sneak in first.

Military Communications Building, third-floor office.

“Name?” “Solas.”

“Sex?” “Military female.”

“Mental power grade?” “D-grade.”

Hearing this, the bald military female in charge of the interview looked up at the insect opposite him. “Then those Achaetus blue eyes of yours are…?”

Military females stationed in the Achaetus sector were at minimum B-grade; in fact, because the benefits were good and competition was fierce, usually only those A-grade and above could go.

“Mental power decay; the grade dropped.”

Dean, the bald military female interviewer, felt a lump in his chest. Mental power decay and grade drops were terminal illnesses for military females. Dropping to D-grade meant that without treatment, death was not far off. That was why this military female, who had worked so hard to reach the Achaetus military district, had been abandoned by the military and ended up on this transit star.

Dean felt some sympathy but still had to refuse: “Then I’m afraid it won’t work. You know… we can’t hire an insect who is about to die.”

“I won’t die. I have a high-rank master.”

“You have a high-rank master?” Dean was stunned. He didn’t expect the other’s luck to be so good; if a high-rank helped, life could indeed be extended. But, “If you have a high-rank master, shouldn’t you stay home to follow his orders? Why come out to work?”

“Master spends too much money,” the blue-eyed military female said. “He can spend a hundred thousand in a single day.”

Hearing this, Dean and the several military females behind him all gasped. What kind of gold-swallowing insect is that?! Then they couldn’t help but ask out of curiosity. After all, military females of their grade would likely never have a high-rank master in their lives.

“You give all the money you earned in the Legion to your master, is he good to you?”

“I’ve cleared it with him; he won’t interfere with my work.”

“Can you take off the bite-guard on your face?”

As Sears took it halfway off, the military females opposite him all let out sharp hisses, somewhat shocked by the hideous wounds!

“Alright, put it back on.”

“Does your master know about the injuries on your face?” This question was actually a subtle way of asking: Did he do it? After all, publicly speaking ill of a high-rank was easy to catch on surveillance.

But Sears didn’t realize it. “Of course.”

Then he noticed the expressions of the military females were wrong. “To apply for this job, am I not allowed to have injuries on my face?”

“No, it’s fine.” Dean felt a bit of unbearable pity. How could he be so tragic? Mental power issues, barely escaping death, and then encountering such a terrible high-rank master. “Are there… any other injuries on your body?”

“My leg was broken once, but it’s almost healed. However, there’s a problem with my wings currently, which might lead to an inability to fly. The rest are minor injuries,” Sears added. “It won’t affect the work here.”

“Don’t say another word, brother. You’re hired!” Dean walked around the table and patted the other’s shoulder.

This went unexpectedly smoothly.

Then Sears heard the other say: “What is your optical-link account? I’ll send the employment contract to you; it needs your master’s signature.”

“I… don’t have an optical-link.” He was currently undocumented. “Is a paper contract okay?”

The only thought the other military females had was: Has even the right for a military female to wear an optical-link been stripped away?!

How can there be such a terrible high-rank master!!!

Support