After the Zerg General Was Accidentally Marked - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Turning Point

In the end, Sears suppressed his complicated feelings regarding the Karatin reagent and brought the vials with him to District 14. Furthermore, since he was going out, he finally shed his unsightly slave attire and changed into normal clothes. He added a high-collared black trench coat on top to conceal the wing-sheath lockers on his back and the collar around his neck. All of this was provided by the little male’s funding.

Even though there were plenty of legal and illegal female slaves in District 14, it was still best to keep a low profile.

Before leaving, Sears also pocketed the standard pass card he had scavenged from the robot. This item could fetch a good price in District 14.

On the other side, the little male dithered for quite a while.

Everett returned to the bedroom and sent several messages to a certain male via his light-brain.

The first message: Do you know the negative effects of Karatin reagent on females and sub-females?

The second message: The original deal is canceled.

Then, the little male directly muted the other party’s messages. Only then did he come out to head to District 14 with the female.

The two traveled together by aircraft to the boundary between District 13 and District 14; for the rest of the way, they had to go on foot. Sears brought a hiking pole, and having taken painkillers in advance, he actually walked no slower than the able-bodied little male.

There wasn’t a particularly clear dividing line between each administrative district no high walls, no barbed wire yet after walking just over a hundred meters, the difference became palpable.

The roads became narrow and undulating, the buildings crowded and chaotic, and the lights dim and flickering. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, tobacco, and blood, which, mixed with the distant and near sounds of cursing and jeering, formed the unique atmosphere of District 14.

Not long after they entered, several ill-intentioned gazes fixed upon them. Females were everywhere, standing or sitting by the roadside in heaps. There were even scantily clad females who approached the little male, attempting to solicit business given the extreme ratio of males to females, mutual aid between females and sub-females was not uncommon, but they were unceremoniously blocked by Sears.

It was like falling suddenly from a bright, warm Eden into a chaotic, disordered hell. Sears secretly observed the little male’s reaction, expecting him to be shocked, disgusted, or repulsed. But, unexpectedly, Everett seemed to adapt quite well, not even knitting his brows.

Has he been here before?

Or is this the unflappable character of a future Insect Emperor?

Sears recalled the shocked and helpless expression on the other’s face when he had joked about “sucking him dry” earlier, and immediately dismissed the second guess.

A male who had seen a female settlement. Interesting.

The two walked for about thirty minutes and soon found the Pamu Tavern. The colorful tavern sign flickered intensely above. It was now 7:30 PM; the sky had only just turned dark, yet there were already drunken insects leaning against walls in corners, vomiting. Sears scanned the area, and just as he was about to use the translator to warn the little male to stay back, he saw the boy take out an earphone, plug it into one ear, and activate it. The translator let out a ding, and an earphone mode option appeared on the screen.

Encrypted one-way communication the little male certainly thought of everything.

Sears connected to the earphone mode: “Wait for me here. Do not engage with strangers. I will return as quickly as possible.”

“If anything happens, you can contact me using the collar’s electric shock function.”

The little male frowned. “I can send messages to your translator via my light-brain, you know.”

“That works too.”

“Wait a moment,” Everett called out to the female before they parted. “How certain are you that you can find out what Major General Sears was doing at the Pamu Tavern that night?”

“One hundred percent.”

He didn’t need to ask around; he remembered exactly what happened that night. During those years in the scrapyard, he had replayed everything from the night of the incident over and over again. He hoped to find a clue to figure out exactly who had made the move against him. Unfortunately, in his previous life, he never found the answer until the day he died.

Now, this was an opportunity. An opportunity to uncover the truth.

On the night of the incident, after finishing work, the first place Major General Sears went was the Pamu Tavern. He came here often, and the tavern’s current owner, Chris, was an old friend. But he hadn’t come that day for drinks and chatter; he was there to gather intelligence.

In many cases, official legion news was far slower than the information circulating among the people. The Pamu Tavern was not just a place for military females to rest and relax; it was also a vital intelligence exchange hub. For example, the tavern’s bartender, the sub-female Ollie, was a well-known information broker in District 14. Ollie was also one of the few insects who dared, or was willing to trade with the Major General.

Sears wanted to ask about the whereabouts of a small starship belonging to the Third Legion, which had mysteriously vanished while transporting blue spice energy. An S-rank military female, Captain Ivan a student he highly regarded had been on that ship. The official investigation conclusion from the Third Legion was a “starship accident.”

But Sears felt things weren’t that simple. Just the day before Ivan departed, Sears had spoken with him; the other was clearly in a strange mood and had unintentionally revealed concerns for his own safety. Sears had advised him not to overthink it at the time. Then, the very next day, the ship went missing. It didn’t seem like a coincidence at all.

Ollie hadn’t provided the ship’s location, but he had offered another bizarre piece of related information. He said that the cargo on that ship wasn’t blue spice at all.

Instead, it was something else a mental supplement that had recently become a fad among females: Karatin.

Yes, it was addictive to females and sub-females. But for many females whose mental seas were deteriorating and who had no master to mark them—leaving them only to wait for death—this stuff could save their lives.

Thus, the matter became even more shrouded in mystery. Was the missing ship targeted because of Ivan, the blue spice, or the Karatin?

Afterward, Major General Sears drank a glass mixed by Ollie himself and left.

That was the first thing he drank that night.

The reason he cared so much was that Sears was certain he had been drugged that night. Otherwise, with SS-rank mental power, there was no way he would have been nearly killed by his opponents.

But when he was drugged, and by whom, he didn’t know.

Could it have been Ollie? This sub-female living in the Salla Nest with a background that wasn’t exactly clean?

So, tonight, he was here to corner the insect.

Sears navigated the familiar path to the tavern’s back door. After waiting for a while, he didn’t see the familiar sub-female Ollie, but he did encounter another familiar face: the robot, Makka Pakka. This was an old-model robot with a square head and round body; it had been obsolete in male society for decades, but it was perfect as manual labor in the female community.

The robot came out of the back door, dragged out a vomiting military female, and tossed out a bag of trash. Just as it was about to return, it turned around and found its path blocked by a tall military female. A black bite-inhibitor covered most of the newcomer’s face, leaving only a pair of Achates Blue eyes visible.

The military female seemed unable to speak, using a translator’s voice: “I’m not looking for trouble. I’m looking for Ollie. Is he here?”

Makka Pakka tilted its head, then held out a hand. “One Star Coin per answer.”

Indeed, under Chris’s tutelage, this robot had become extremely greedy for money.

The blue-eyed female pulled out a red reagent and waved it before Makka Pakka’s eyes. “This is Karatin. Two hundred Star Coins a vial. You know what it is, right?”

The robot’s camera eyes followed the reagent as it moved left and right. “I know. What do you want to ask?”

“Why didn’t Ollie come today? Is he on leave?”

“Ollie won’t be coming anymore,” Makka Pakka said. “Ollie is dead.”

“Dead?” The female’s movements froze. “How did he die? When?”

The robot shook its head. “Makka Pakka doesn’t know. Makka Pakka heard it from the boss.”

“Is Chris here today?”

“He’s not here.” Makka Pakka tilted its head and blinked. “How do you know the boss’s name?”

Seeing that he wouldn’t get anything more, the female decisively pulled back the hand holding the reagent. Then, as the robot reached out to snatch it, he quickly circled behind it and accurately pressed the reset button hidden on the lower part of the robot’s back.

Accompanied by a shutdown melody, Makka Pakka’s glowing eyes flickered a few times and went dark.

By the time it woke up again a few minutes later, the military female had long since disappeared. The robot stomped its feet twice. “Military females bully Makka Pakka! Military females are bad!”

“Makka Pakka is going to tell the boss…” the robot complained as it lifted its legs and turned to go back into the tavern.

On the other side, Sears had already reached the Salla Nest. He had been to Ollie’s residence before, so finding it this time was effortless. But when he located that coffin-sized dwelling within the hive, he found someone was already inside.

A red-haired female with only one eye poked his head out. “Who are you looking for?”

It was another familiar insect: the smuggler, Kahn. This fellow frequently smuggled female slaves and was skilled at scavenging from dead insects. Back when Sears was an enforcement officer, he had dealt with him often. He hadn’t expected the guy to still be alive.

“Where’s Ollie?”

“Been dead for several days. Even the body’s gone. You’re late.” Kahn blocked the entrance. “This place has a new owner.”

The trail had gone cold just like that. Sears had no interest in fighting over what little remained, but another question soon occurred to him: “Are you still helping female slaves smuggle out?”

Seeing the other become wary, Sears tugged at his collar, revealing his slave collar. “How much?”

Sears paid two vials of Karatin and successfully obtained a cargo pass. In two days, he could board a long-distance aircraft as slave cargo and head to the Kovas Star Cluster in the B-System. There was a First Legion outpost there, containing his subordinates—trustworthy insects.

As long as he reached that place, he could escape the assassination attempts he faced on the Capital Planet and be completely safe.

Not only that, but the remote control for both the marking and the slave collar had distance limitations. That was the reason the little male insisted on coming along—to monitor him at all times. But once he reached the B-System, far from the Capital Planet in the A-System, he would be able to successfully escape the little male’s mental control and the restrictions of the slave collar. He would be completely free.

The only problem was that his newly repaired mental sea might face collapse again. But compared to the other benefits, that was nothing.

To Sears, nothing was more important than reclaiming control over his own life.

He wanted to take back everything that belonged to him: his rank of Major General, his status as the Commander of the First Legion, and the Empire’s strongest starship, the Eos, even if he couldn’t pilot it with mental power, his skill at manual piloting was just as terrifying.

The investigation could be pushed back. For the time being, he only needed to stay in District 14, hiding among the numerous females, and wait to board the aircraft.

Sears’ heart beat rapidly. This wasn’t part of the plan. But the opportunity was fleeting; he had to seize it firmly.

Though he felt a slight pang of guilt toward the future Insect Emperor, Sears still said sincerely in his heart:

Goodbye, Everett.

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