When the Major General Omega Picked Up a Little Snake Alpha - Chapter 20

The little snake traced a cross on the floor, then pushed the building block base away with his tail, the plastic letting out a sharp squeak.

“Don’t you think so?” Luo Qi picked up a block and examined it from different angles, “Your bellies are all quite chubby.”

The word “chubby” seemed to wound the snake deeply. His tail gave a violent twitch before he retreated into his cushion, curling his body until his head met his tail to form a perfect “O.”

Luo Qi suppressed a laugh and poked the snake’s midsection. “What’s this? You’re upset because I said you’re fat?”

The little snake ignored him, his plump belly contracting with effort as if trying to make himself look thinner.

“Silly snake, that won’t do. Come out and get some exercise.”

Luo Qi lined up the headless “caterpillar” snake blocks in a row, leaving a small gap between each one. At the far end, he placed the only complete python block.

Standing by the python, he clapped his hands at the snake on the cushion. “Come here, Little Black.”

The little snake slowly poked out a tiny snout.

“Let’s try a challenge. If you can weave through every ‘Chubby Little Black’ and reach the finish line, you win.”

The little snake slid over to the first block and peeked forward.

Little Fruit’s feet were right next to the python.

He began to slither, weaving between two blocks before turning his head toward the next gap. Though his movement was sluggish due to his distended belly, he completed the task successfully, his head finally coming to rest against the python near Luo Qi’s feet.

“Good job.” Luo Qi rubbed his body as a reward, but the little snake didn’t stop. He continued to wriggle forward, slipping into the space between Luo Qi’s feet.

Luo Qi wasn’t sitting cross-legged, he was sitting on the floor with his knees bent in front of him. His pajama pants were pulled up above his ankles, revealing smooth calves.

The little snake pressed against the bridge of his foot and coiled in a figure-eight around his slender ankles, his head tilted upward.

The skin on those legs was pale and soft, hugging lean, powerful muscle. The snake’s scales undulated against the skin.

It looked like a pair of black silk shackles. If his belly hadn’t been so full, a little more pressure would have been enough to pull the human’s feet tightly together.

“What is this?” Luo Qi hugged his knees and met the snake’s gaze, “Trying to tie me up?”

The small head swayed slightly, flicking a tongue at him.

Luo Qi gripped the snake’s belly, which felt like a thick noodle and gently uncoiled him.

“Down you go. Do a few more laps.”

Luo Qi began to count for him, requiring him to slither at a steady pace for a hundred laps.

The little snake swam back and forth miserably, weaving through the bumpy “fat” blocks, crying silent tears in his heart.

Little Fruit is so cruel.

To subject a hatchling to such demonic training.

By the fortieth lap, he crawled to Luo Qi’s feet and stopped, rolling onto his back in a show of laziness and coiling around one ankle, refusing to let go.

“Tired?” Luo Qi rubbed his neck, “Alright then, we’ll stop here. You can do the remaining sixty laps tomorrow.”

Little Black: …This is continuing tomorrow?

Luo Qi lifted him into the glass enclosure and settled him onto the heating pad. The little snake wrapped anxiously around his finger, clearly wanting him to stay.

“The place I’m going today has strict security, no animals allowed. You can’t follow me.”

Luo Qi tucked the pillow and the heating pad together, creating a warm nest that carried his scent.

“Aren’t you exhausted? Get some sleep.”

But the little snake still wouldn’t let go of his wrist, his small eyes watching him imploringly.

“I know,” Luo Qi thought of a solution, “Wait a second.”

He found an unused phone and synced it with his own.

“If you miss me, just look at this little rectangle.”

The screen flickered to life, showing a live feed from Luo Qi’s phone.

The snake curiously circled the phone stand, then leaned toward Luo Qi and traced several circles on his foot with his tail.

It seemed he liked it very much.

“Alright, I have to go.”

Luo Qi packed his briefcase and headed out, changing his clothes before getting into his private car.

He opened the video call. The little snake was pressed right against the lens, his bulging belly taking up most of the frame while his head occupied the rest.

Flat and round, he flicked his tongue at the camera.

“Little Black, why are you laying right on the glass?” Luo Qi touched the image with his finger, “You just finished exercising, the floor is cold. Be careful or you’ll get sick.”

Little Black: That’s a human problem.

“Go back to your nest, there’s a window there.”

The “window” he referred to was simply the transparent glass of the snake tank.

He didn’t want to be that far from the lens, but he was indeed sleepy.

This hatchling body had its limits.

He crawled back to his nest, burying his body into the fragrant, warm pillow, leaving only his head exposed to watch the phone stand through the glass.

Luo Qi kept the camera pointed at his face to ensure the snake could see him.

It wasn’t until his car reached the venue that he turned off the screen.

This was a routine briefing. Aside from those on the North Star, every General stationed in the rear was required to attend.

This was Luo Qi’s first time participating, previously, he had always been on the front lines and rarely had to deal with such formalities.

He actually preferred the front. He enjoyed the freshness of dismantling pirate dens or insect hives.

It was dangerous, but exhilarating.

The weaponry on the Luo Starship was all modified with his own funds, making it arguably the most powerful warship in the Empire.

A single light-cannon could wipe out that cosmic trash.

Only planetary landings offered a real challenge, but that was fine, staying on the ship all day got boring anyway.

Driven by this need for “novelty,” Luo Qi had risen to the rank of General in just ten years.

Many envied or hated him, claiming he relied on his wealth to bomb the edges of the galaxy and snatch military honors without any regard for his colleagues.

Luo Qi simply smiled at these remarks without comment. Military merit was one thing, but what truly ignited his fighting spirit was the fun of it.

Life on a starship was hard, but it was certainly interesting.

Luo Qi stood on the stage, the last to finish his report, as a polite round of applause filled the room.

Once the meeting adjourned, people began to leave, taking shuttles back to the parking lot.

Luo Qi boarded a transport aircraft, and just as he sat down, Xue Ying entered.

The aircraft had three rows of seating. Luo Qi and Xue Ying were in the middle. Since everyone knew each other, there was a brief exchange of pleasantries.

Once they took off, Luo Qi rested his hands on his lap, lowered his eyes, and tapped his communicator.

Little Black seemed to be asleep, he hadn’t changed positions since before Luo Qi took the stage.

He poked the screen with his fingertip, as if that could somehow wake the creature up.

“Adjusting to life back here? Are you getting used to it?” Xue Ying struck up a conversation.

Luo Qi darkened the screen and tucked it back into his pocket. “It’s fine.”

“Do you find it boring? There will be plenty more meetings like this in the future.”

“It’s a necessary duty,” Luo Qi said, “But life is certainly a lot quieter.”

Come to think of it, if it weren’t for the little snake, these past few days would have been incredibly dull.

“You’ll get used to it. If you’re bored, you can always come find me.”

Xue Ying was being so forward that Luo Qi couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow and look at him. “Find you for what?”

“I’m just as bored as you are,” Xue Ying looked straight ahead, “Next time, come to the training grounds with me for a round.”

Luo Qi laughed. “Do you think we’re still in the military academy?”

“It’s the same no matter where we are.”

The aircraft hummed, and the people in the front and back rows were whispering amongst themselves.

“You’re heading back to East tomorrow, right?” Luo Qi asked casually.

“Yes.”

“I’m going to the South Star as well,” he lowered his voice, “From now on, unless it’s official business, don’t come looking for me.”

Xue Ying’s dark eyes fixed on his profile.

“I’m serious.”

Xue Ying let out a soft scoff. “That’s not for you to decide.”

“What do you mean?”

Xue Ying leaned in close to his ear. “Until someone marks you, pursuing you is my right.”

He clearly thought the line was romantic. After saying it, a faint smile played at the corners of his mouth.

Instead, Luo Qi knitted his brows. “Xue Ying, are you really that bored?”

His voice was a bit loud, and the other passengers adopted expressions of “polite eavesdropping,” their eyes darting toward the pair.

The person in the front seat especially kept shifting around, leaning back to catch a better earful.

“Luo Qi, can’t you speak to me properly?” Xue Ying whispered through gritted teeth.

“You’re the one crossing the line,” Luo Qi said coldly, “Stop obsessing over my gland.”

He paused. “Besides, I have already made my stance clear to your father.”

Xue Ying remained unmoved by his coldness.

On the contrary, a hidden excitement flickered in his dark eyes as he stared at Luo Qi’s straight, elegant nose.

“Fine,” Xue Ying said in a low voice, “But don’t forget, you still owe me a meal.”

“We’ll see.”

This conversation was packed with so much gossip that the person in the front row nearly strained their neck. Catching Xue Ying’s glare, they immediately ducked their head and pulled out their communicator, pretending to send a message.

Minutes later, the news that “General Xue’s pursuit of General Luo was rejected” spread like wildfire across the internal forums of the Imperial Military.

Meanwhile, Luo Qi gazed out the window, his thoughts quickly drifting elsewhere.

Many people had pursued him; Xue Ying wasn’t significant enough to take up much of his mental space.

Right now, he just wanted to go back and see his cute little pet.

He wondered if Little Black’s belly had gone down at all.

When Luo Qi arrived home, Little Black was still asleep. He squatted quietly by the snake box, wanting to touch his belly but afraid of waking him, so he simply watched in silence.

The tiny pile of black “noodle” rose and fell weakly with every breath inside the pillow.

Over the next few days, whenever he didn’t have to go out, he focused on helping Little Black “digest” by making him run laps.

Through this training, the little snake became much more obedient. He stopped eating random things (out of fear of getting fat) and slept on a pillow on the nightstand at night.

When Luo Qi was home, the snake played with him, and when he was out, they had “video calls.”

The snake had also taken a liking to the snake-crystal carving, often draping himself over it.

In the blink of an eye, three weeks passed. Luo Qi received his approved documents and prepared to set off.

Two-thirds of the crew from the Luo Starship remained, including Fang Xi and Jiang Luoyi.

They were joined by new members: the little snake, his glass house, and that snake-crystal carving.

The glass house was placed inside a door to the left of the Captain’s cabin, sandwiched between Luo Qi and Fang Xi—the closest possible position to the General.

Inside, as per the previous design, there were artificial branches, a water dispenser, and a small feeding tray. Outside sat the valuable crystal carving as a decoration, which the snake could climb onto whenever he wished.

Between the decor and the treatment, the setup rivaled that of a high-ranking military aide. Fang Xi stood at the cabin door, giving it a complex look before turning to leave.

Luo Qi remained inside the “snake cabin,” sitting on a small stool to teach the snake how to drink.

“If you’re thirsty, push this lever to the right,” Luo Qi demonstrated by moving the handle next to the water tray, “When you’ve had enough, close it.” He pulled the handle back.

The little snake mimicked his movements. Luo Qi stroked his body and praised him, “So smart.”

Getting a compliment, the snake arched his body to climb onto Luo Qi’s hand as usual, but the hand pulled away.

“I can’t play with you today, I have things to handle.”

He left the snake room and stood in the corridor, looking out through a porthole.

He felt a bit dizzy.

After a warship leaves the atmosphere, there is always a period of adjustment. There were pressure systems on board, but some people still suffered from “ship-sickness.”

Luo Qi’s physical constitution was incredibly strong; such things usually never affected him.

But today felt different.

He went back to his bedroom and checked the calendar, confirming the dates of his last few heat cycles.

For the past year, his cycles had been irregular.

Luo Qi returned to the cabin and leaned back on the sofa, his breathing gradually growing hot.

His heat had returned.

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