When the Major General Omega Picked Up a Little Snake Alpha - Chapter 22

The naughty little snake was deeply distressed.

Any other misunderstanding was fine, but not this one!

He slithered forward, extending his head toward Luo Qi’s lips, and his flicking, forked tongue darted out several times to lick them. It brushed against the corner of Luo Qi’s mouth.

The little snake coiled right before his eyes, and the scent of red wine finally overflowed. It leaked out slowly, like a opening dam, drifting into his nasal cavity, invading his bloodstream, and circulating through his body.

He felt dizzy. The alcohol acted like a hallucinogen, wrapping around him, eroding him, and causing him to ferment. He melted into it, like a cherry dissolving into wine. He became part of the liquid, with every inch of his skin being nibbled away by the alcohol.

“Mmh…”

Luo Qi pressed his forehead against the snake’s scales, a numbing sensation spreading from his glands. The restlessness was subsiding, but the scent of wine grew even stronger.

The little snake had opened the valve, and its pheromones invaded the entire space, surging down with overwhelming force. Luo Qi felt suffocated. He wanted to swim out of the wine, but his head was held down firmly. He gasped for air, but the wine poured into his mouth and nose, deepening his intoxication from head to toe, until he felt weightless even while lying down.

He felt as if he were about to float away. His heart hammered, suspended high in the air, before falling limply back into a pile of cotton.

His nose twitched slightly, and his hand gripped the smooth, slender body of the snake.

“It seems we can’t talk anymore.” Ji Qiu switched his gun to anesthesia mode and aimed it at Luo Qi’s forehead. “Mr. Luo, I’ll ask you one last time, are you on the side of humanity or on the side of the snake?”

Luo Qi gave a cold snort. “I refuse to answer such a childish question.”

“Fine.” Ji Qiu snapped his fingers.

The sound of gunfire followed. Luo Qi stood his ground, tilted his head, and a silver needle the length of an index finger shot past his earlobe. It was an anesthetic needle. It was his own gun, so he knew it perfectly.

Luo Qi touched his ear, completely unaffected.

Ordinary bullets were useless against the man-eating tree, and if that specialized black gun was set to kill mode, it would cause a small-scale explosion. As long as Luo Qi stood under the tree, Ji Qiu wouldn’t dare fire.

“Woof, woof, woof!” Several barks echoed from the pitch-black second floor. Shi Yi had snuck up behind the soldiers at some point and lunged at one of them.

Simultaneously, a dozen vines swept toward the second floor, dragging several soldiers down. The gun in Ji Qiu’s hand was also slapped away by a vine. He let out a low growl, scrambled out of the window, and leaped down.

“Luo Qi, stay right there if you have the guts!”

Holding a sharp knife, he hacked away at the oncoming vines and rushed toward Luo Qi at an incredible speed.

Luo Qi instinctively raised his left arm to shield his face. The blade hacked toward his arm, but Ji Qiu was a seasoned Imperial soldier; even with a bloody little snake in his way, he did not flinch.

Several vines coiled toward him, but Ji Qiu was a step faster. He grabbed Luo Qi by the throat, pinned him against the tree trunk, and held the knife against that fragile neck.

“Don’t move!” he roared upward. Vines had already wrapped around his waist, their barbs drawing blood.

“My knife is fast too,” he shouted at the canopy. “Luo Qi, make this snake stop, or I’ll give you what you want and we’ll all die here today!”

Luo Qi was pressed against the trunk, clawing at the other man’s hand. “Fine. Let’s die together!”

A strange smile played on his lips as he glanced sideways at Ji Qiu. That originally handsome face looked as if it were possessed by a demon.

“Darling,” Luo Qi rubbed his head against the snake’s bark, “come and eat us.”

“You!” Ji Qiu’s face twisted with rage. He tightened his grip, and Luo Qi let out a few strained, dry coughs.

At that moment, the snake’s vines slowed down. It twitched twice and dropped the two soldiers it hadn’t yet sucked dry onto the ground. Their bones made a snapping sound; the neck of one was twisted to the side, already lifeless.

The giant black flower emerged from the canopy, opening its petals to reveal the partially exposed anther sacs inside once again. Red powder drifted down, landing on the tip of Luo Qi’s nose.

Why did this little snake love pollinating him so much? Luo Qi blew at the tip of his nose.

“You understand me, don’t you?” Ji Qiu continued to shout. “If you don’t stop, I’ll kill this researcher. Let’s see who’s faster!”

The little snake reacted to those words. The spread-out vines retracted completely, rustling as they climbed back onto the tree platform.

“Move.” Ji Qiu grabbed Luo Qi by the collar, keeping him restrained against his chest, and took a few steps back. “Take me to find the Pure Land seeds.”

[Pure Land] was the project held in Luo Qi’s hands and the thing the Imperial Leader valued most. It was a vital bargaining chip; if he could get the seeds, Ji Qiu could kill this lunatic without any hesitation.

“Get down!”

Luo Qi was dragged off the tree platform, the knife point still aimed at his throat. His face, neck, and hands—every exposed part of him, was no longer intact; his pale skin was covered in abrasions and wounds.

“Such a simple child…” Luo Qi gazed at the little snake tree. Above the canopy, the large black flower had curled into a ball, looking like a glowing orb in the dark night.

“Simple? Look at what you’re saying!” Ji Qiu roared. “Look at the corpses all over the ground!”

“How is it not simple?” Luo Qi glanced at the severed limbs on the ground. “Eating meat is just his instinct. Resisting is out of self-preservation.”

He was also very easy to coax. He held the mini gun in his right pocket, gently stroking the trigger. He hadn’t pulled out the gun earlier because he wanted to see the tree’s reaction—would it really save him?

The result was somewhat unexpected. Luo Qi felt incredibly joyful; he had discovered a treasure, a top-tier mutant with empathy that could be kept as a “pet.”

“Stop spouting your disgusting theories.” Ji Qiu gave Luo Qi’s shin a hard kick. “Where did you throw the remote?”

Luo Qi’s left leg was still in terrible pain, and his ankle had been pricked by the little snake; this kick made him drop to his knees. Ji Qiu, at 1.9 meters tall, was half a head taller than him and held him up with one hand.

“Stand up straight, sir.” Ji Qiu’s head leaned down by his shoulder, his heavy breath blowing against his face. “I’m asking you a question.”

The little snake’s branches shook slightly, vines slapping against the edge of the tree platform. Luo Qi’s face darkened as he reached for the mini gun in his pocket.

A sudden, intense barking came from behind. Ji Qiu’s body stiffened. He tried to speak again, but his throat seemed stuck, producing only a “gurgling” sound.

Shi Yi lunged onto his back, locking onto his nape. Luo Qi took the chance to push the sharp knife away from his chin and dove to the side.

“Shi Yi! Don’t bite him to death!”

It was too late. When Shi Yi went berserk, his fur stood on end, making him over half a man’s height, like a giant wolf. He opened his bloody maw and snapped Ji Qiu’s head off in one bite.

Luo Qi sat slumped on the ground, watching Shi Yi tear at the corpse. Ji Qiu’s clothes were ripped open, and a black leather wallet fell out.

He picked up the wallet. Inside were two 1000-denomination Imperial bills and a photograph. The photo showed four tall men standing side-by-side in identical Imperial military uniforms.

Ji Qiu was in the center; the others were unfamiliar faces. Luo Qi studied the photo for a moment, then used his sleeve to wipe the blood off the wallet.

He tucked the wallet into his coat pocket. By now, the entire base was shrouded in the smell of blood. The little snake was starting to get restless; mutants could never resist clean, bloody human flesh.

Even he himself was starting to lose control. He hadn’t tasted fresh, uncontaminated blood in a long time.

There were no usable water purification facilities on the island. Usually, the water he drank came from rainwater storage, or if he was lucky, he could collect some from the riverbeds in the central hills. But it wasn’t enough. Sometimes, he had to drink the blood of wild beasts to stay alive.

Those liquids always had a strange, contaminated taste. If not for his special constitution, he would have mutated long ago.

Dipping his fingertip in the blood on the ground, Luo Qi put it in his mouth. It tasted of iron, not as good as chocolate beans.

He stuck out his tongue, touching the communicator on his left wrist. There was a missed call from an A-level clearance—the highest level.

It was likely the Leader calling. Luo Qi let out a long, headache-induced sigh. An entire squad of people had died in his yard; how was he going to explain this? His notoriety was probably going to reach a new level.

The little snake’s vines grew longer and longer. It lowered its branches, cautiously reaching toward the ground, but the moment Luo Qi’s gaze flickered over, it quickly retracted.

“Are you asking for my permission?” His expression softened. “Eat, then. It’s best if you clean up the ground. Don’t hurt the dog.”

At the top of the canopy, the black flower peeked out. Strangely, it was still as black as jade, without a single trace of blood on it.

Seeing it hesitate, Luo Qi turned his back and walked toward the yard gate. There was the sound of heavy objects being dragged behind him. He stood by a flickering lamp post and pressed the button on the side of his communicator.

The communicator emitted a crackling current, and after a few dozen seconds, a clear, steady female voice spoke.

“Xiao Luo, did you receive Experimental Subject A001?”

“The man-eating tree?” Luo Qi glanced back. The little snake’s canopy had doubled in size, and it was currently dragging a corpse up the trunk.

“Yes. Did Major General Ji not give you the data?”

“It might be lost, or it might not.” He put his right hand in his pocket and leaned against the wall.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s like this, Madam Leader.” Luo Qi cleared his throat. “Before I explain, can you promise me one thing?”

“What, have you caused trouble again?”

“No, it’s just…” He paused for a moment. “Can you send me more chocolate beans? I’m almost out.”

He scratched his head uneasily. Nothing else mattered, but if the chocolate beans were gone, his happiness would truly be gone.

“I can. But cocoa production is very low now. I can give you at most another two months’ worth in advance.”

Luo Qi counted on his fingers. “That’ll do for now, thanks.”

“So what trouble did you actually cause?”

“It wasn’t trouble.” Luo Qi chose his words carefully. “It’s Ji Qiu and the others—they were eaten by the experimental subject.”

“What did you say?”

“Exactly what I said.”

“Any survivors?”

“None.” He kicked a small pebble at his feet. “However, I’ve already found a way to control the subject.”

There was a silence on the other end of the communicator. When she spoke again, her tone carried a hint of suppressed anger.

“Dr. Luo, you’re making things very difficult for me.”

“Well, then don’t make it difficult.” He lowered his head to stare at his toes. “And stop calling me Doctor.”

“Don’t throw a tantrum.” There was a sound of hurried, light footsteps on the other end, and the Leader’s voice dropped even lower. “The situation is complicated right now, and I can barely protect myself.”

She gave a soft sigh. “If one day you can’t contact me, just run.”

“Run. Run where?” Luo Qi looked back at the yard. “Abandon this base?”

“If that day truly comes, take the Pure Land seeds with you. Nothing else matters.”

Luo Qi bit his lower lip. “What about A001?”

“Save your lab notes, and we’ll see about the rest.”

“What do you mean,” Luo Qi’s tone gradually turned grim, “you just gave him to me, and now you want me to throw him away?”

“You really are…” The Leader sighed again. “It’s not like before, Xiao Luo. I can’t protect you for much longer.”

“Don’t forget, researching mutants is only to collect more data and enrich the Experimental Tower, nothing more.”

“Heh.” Luo Qi replied with a contemptuous sneer.

“Forget it. Send me a report via the terminal first. As for A001, I snatched it from the meltdown furnace of ‘Yun’s Biochemicals’; don’t let it go to waste.”

“Of course not, I’m going to take good care of him,” Luo Qi looked at the distant hills, a faint smile appearing on his lips. “I like this little snake.”

“Suit yourself,” the Leader’s speaking speed increased. “I have a meeting to attend. Talk later.”

Beep beep, the communicator hung up.

Luo Qi tilted his head back, inhaling the cold, forest air.

“Pure Land seeds, huh…”

“Pure Land” was a project from Luo Qi’s laboratory. While training various mutants, he had discovered a unique method that could penetrate and purify small areas of soil.

Nowadays, arable soil was very limited and had low yields; any crops grown had to undergo purification and processing before they were edible. If “Pure Land seeds” could be cultivated and placed into the soil, they could theoretically evolve it and bring it infinitely close to the brown earth of 1,000 years ago.

The injuries left by the thorn shackles throbbed with pain. Luo Qi shifted his weight to his right foot and rubbed his brow with his fingers.

Bang bang, snap, several explosive sounds echoed behind him. He whipped his head around, and a pile of dirt actually jumped up in front of him.

Luckily there were no bricks on the ground, or they might have exploded in his face. In the unlit base, ghost-like shadows were everywhere. Snake-like things were surging in the dirt, rolling and spreading like a plow.

Shi Yi gave a few howls and rushed into the office building. Luo Qi took a few steps back and stood further away.

A thick black root burst from the ground, winding and stretching for several meters before burrowing deep back into the soil, leaving only half of it above ground.

It was a root; the little snake’s roots were growing.

Luo Qi’s eyes widened. He couldn’t help but lean in closer. Dust flew across the entire yard as long shadows danced and intertwined.

The little snake was bathed in the dim light of blood, its top branches trembling slightly. The hanging vines were stained red, and that blood was slowly seeping into the cracks of the flower buds.

It was evolving; eating human flesh actually allowed it to evolve rapidly.

The tree platform had cracked, and the broken roots had been restored; they broke through their restraints, stretching downward and plunging into the soil. They looked like a mass of writhing black snakes.

When it finally settled down, Luo Qi stayed close to the wall, his feet stepping around the roots exposed on the ground as he tentatively approached.

“A001, what an unlucky number.”

The black flower was hidden in the canopy, its petals opening slightly toward him.

“It means you are the newest subject in this sequence, and you will definitely be abandoned in the future.”

He leaned down, tentatively touching an exposed root.

“Do you remember the past?”

A strange sensation came from his palm. The skin of the man-eating tree was smooth and soft, completely different from an ordinary tree. it felt like the hide of some animal but retained a sense of plant fiber.

Suddenly, the root curled upward, gently wrapping around his hand.

A breeze swept overhead. Luo Qi looked up; the large black flower had thrust itself in front of him, its eight diamond-shaped petals spreading out toward him. The serrated barbs on the petals retracted inward, wiggling restlessly. On the stamen, the anther sac spat out several more grains of powder toward him.

This was a monoecious man-eating tree. The stamens of those red flowers looked more like blood-sucking soft needles than stamens. The only part carrying anthers was the stamen on this black flower.

“Stop scattering pollen randomly.” Luo Qi brushed the powder off his arm. “Save those for a plant you like. Understand?”

Following the brushed-off pollen, the stamen drooped downward. The moment it hit the ground, several petals suddenly wilted, hanging down limply.

Watching this strange scene, Luo Qi felt a stir in his heart; he inexplicably sensed a certain emotion.

“…Are you sad?”

Perhaps the little snake really did want to give away its pollen.

“I am a human, you are a tree.” Luo Qi curled his lip and added, “I can’t produce seeds.”

“I appreciate the gesture,” he pulled his arm out of the tangled roots. “If you really want to pollinate, next time I’ll bring you a nice potted plant.”

On this island, there was a high probability that no such potted plant existed. However, Luo Qi decided to make the promise anyway.

He observed the little snake’s reaction. The large black flower showed no signs of perking up again; even the dense small tentacles at the edges of the petals were drooping.

It was a bit cute and a bit funny.

“There’s nothing we can do; we have reproductive isolation, that’s reality.” Luo Qi suppressed a smile. “Don’t be sad.”

He stood up, propping himself on his knees. Just as he was about to step away, a warm, cool sensation climbed up his right ankle.

Another small vine suddenly rushed over, its dark red tip diving directly into his torn trouser leg.

He looked down to see that the retracted barbs seemed to be secreting a transparent mucus that glistened in the moonlight. It wrapped around his injured leg several times.

Luo Qi inhaled sharply; his leg felt itchy and numb. He wanted to pull his leg out, but the vine tightened accordingly.

“Darling, what are you doing?”

The little snake ignored him completely. Luo Qi had no other choice. He couldn’t exactly climb up and fight it; after all, this guy still ate people.

Forget it, next time I won’t go through the front yard; I’ll open a door at the back of the building.

He shook his head and headed to the basement with his mesh bag.

Walking down the steps, he saw several branching corridors leading to different experimental zones. Opposite the armory was a cold storage room containing flash-frozen beast meat and some special samples.

Luo Qi hung the fox in a small room next to the cold storage, pulled out a knife, and stabbed through the thick mesh into the fox’s heart.

The fastest way to kill a mutant was to destroy the heart. The fox struggled twice in his hands before its head slumped silently. Blood dripped along the mesh, collecting in a small basin on the floor.

He took a clean steel bowl from a nearby drawer and scooped out a small spoonful of blood from the basin.

On this wasteland island, water was even scarcer than food. The contaminated soil couldn’t hold groundwater, and it hadn’t rained in recent days; the streams in the central hills were dry.

Except when absolutely necessary, Luo Qi tried to drink fresh beast blood. He brought the bowl to his lips and swallowed in small sips. The beast blood contained the K-virus and other bacteria, but it had no effect on him.

At least it was better than drinking seawater.

He set the empty bowl aside, wiped his hands and mouth with a clean cloth, and waited quietly for the blood to drain.

His wrist gave another “beep,” and he received an email on his terminal. The blood was mostly drained; he hacked off two fox legs, processed the rest, and put the meat into the cold storage.

He didn’t plan on eating meat today; compressed rations would last him a while. When he walked out of the basement carrying the beast legs, Shi Yi was already waiting at the door.

“Take it.”

The moment Luo Qi dropped the fox legs, Shi Yi pounced on them, vanishing with the meat in his mouth. He headed to the lounge on the second floor. There was movement in the yard; vines were slapping against something.

Thinking about how that room was now filled with glass shards, Luo Qi felt a bit of a headache. The other room seemed to have a folding bed he could use; maybe he should just move. He pushed the door open, and the sound of the vines slapping stopped abruptly.

The lounge was filled with vines. Most of the glass shards on the bed had been pushed off, covering the corroded pit on the floor.

“What are you doing now?”

The little snake hung obediently in various places, spreading across the table. The black flower was closed, lying next to the terminal and hunkered down beside the tilted desk lamp.

Was it trying to help him clean the room? Luo Qi sighed. “Stop messing around, I’m sleeping somewhere else today.”

He opened the terminal and began to read. The black flower secretly opened a slit, and the stamen with its retracted spines peeked out.

Luo Qi kept his eyes fixed on the screen, using his peripheral vision to observe the flower’s reaction.

The report on A001 mentioned that this black flower was the “King Flower” of the man-eating canopy, but it hadn’t mentioned that the flower possessed consciousness.

Based on the observations of the past two days, this flower wasn’t just the King Flower; it might also be the “head” of the tree. Luo Qi had always been curious about how it perceived its surroundings and how it understood human speech.

After all, the flower didn’t seem to have eyes or ears; if it relied solely on touch or smell, could it be this precise? Most mutants had perceptions that stayed within a physical range. Although there was currently technology to detect things like “spiritual bodies,” no researchers had yet systematically studied or explained them.

So what exactly did “human-like spiritual body” refer to?

The screen displayed the name “Shi Yue” it was the Leader’s name.

[I found the original report for A001 and have negotiated with Yun Tang. The experimental subject is now officially under your charge.]

[The matter with Ji Qiu has been temporarily categorized as an accident. Delete this email after reading and keep the contents in your mind.]

[Mr. Luo, if you still want to get back the title of “Doctor,” please keep a low profile and stop causing trouble. I can’t help you every single time.]

He finished reading the original report in five minutes, clicked delete, then briefly summarized the encounter with the others on the island and sent a reply.

While he was typing, the two-finger-thick stamen rested beside his left hand; the anther sac seemed even larger than yesterday.

Luo Qi stared blankly at the stamen. This “original report” didn’t actually have much new content; it was just a bit more detailed than the booklet.

One sentence in particular caught his eye.

[Experimental subject A001 was discovered in the South West Plain Swamp. Its formation conditions are harsh; it is suspected to be human-induced rather than a natural mutation.]

There was never any evidence that man-eating trees actually existed. In other words, it was highly likely that someone had “cultivated” it according to the appearance of the legendary “man-eating tree.” And in that process, humans were used as “material.”

“Do you remember the past?”

The stamen slowly dragged back, retracting into the petals and leaving a trail of moisture. The flower bud slumped down limply, as if it had deflated.

It was a very negative reaction; it looked rather pitiful.

Luo Qi reached out and twiddled the small tentacles at the edge of the petals.

Contaminated beings don’t retain memories from before their mutation. Once they mutate, they become entirely new creatures. But anything is possible. If the little snake still remembered the past, it probably wasn’t a pleasant thing.

“Let’s change the subject,” he said in a light tone. “When are you going to give me my guns back?”

A small puff of air came from the petals, a pungent smell filling his nose. The entire flower bud rounded out again. The thick vines retracted toward the window, and the black flower swam back the way it came.

Was it throwing a tantrum?

Luo Qi suppressed a smile, covering his nose until the smell dissipated. Actually, those two guns couldn’t kill this tree. According to the self-healing abilities mentioned in the report, if it were actually hit, it would recover after resting for a while. Even at the highest setting, it would only blow off a few branches.

However, the little snake didn’t seem to know that yet. It thought the guns could be used to threaten it, so it took them away. But after taking them, it still approached him in a fawning way.

What a strange personality.

Although the little snake had left in a huff, its “hands” were still hanging in the room. The small red flowers decorating them were opening and closing, revealing the soft spines in the middle.

Luo Qi spent some time tidying up the room, putting his important belongings into his backpack, including some tools and the bone ring.

He found the folding bed in the next room’s cabinet and moved the mattress over. He had brought this when he first arrived on the island, but he hadn’t been able to use it until now.

After finishing all this, he finally got to rest. The vines didn’t crawl over again. He moved the bed to the window, changed into his pajamas, and sat at the foot of the bed.

Holding the thorn shackle made of the bone ring, he used a small whetstone to polish the tips of the needles.

The alloy needles on the inner ring were extremely sharp but also very fine. They were made of a special material that was stable; once they pierced flesh, they wouldn’t easily fuse with it, nor would they rust. Without a cutting machine, these needles couldn’t be broken. Luo Qi rubbed the whetstone against the middle of the ring, just to make it so they wouldn’t prick his hands so easily.

As he sharpened the needles, he admired the tree outside the window. That light, sweet woody fragrance rose again, enveloping the entire base.

He wondered when his teacher would write back.

He was getting a bit sleepy.

Thirteen months ago, he was dumped on this island, with the pain in his left leg torturing him day and night. In winter, he almost froze to death in the base. Fortunately, the Leader sent a team to restore the wind farm and build a backup generator, allowing the heater in the basement to work.

None of that mattered, but the insomnia had nearly driven him mad. And now, as Luo Qi lay on the bed, the fragrance of wood was like a soothing secret medicine, coaxing him into a deep sleep.

He forgot what insomnia felt like, and he forgot to put medicine on his wounds.

The little snake’s vines retracted from the next room. Under the moonlight, its trunk shimmered with a silver glow. Because it had digested a large amount of fresh human flesh, the bark had become smooth and lustrous in just one day, with even the wrinkles being much fewer; it looked like exposed animal skin.

The black flower wriggled restlessly in the canopy. The anther sacs on the stamen could no longer hold back; if they didn’t pollinate soon, these precious small spores would go to waste. It didn’t want to just scatter them on this lifeless, contaminated soil.

It climbed up to the second-floor window. The human was already asleep, and his scent was still so pleasant. Especially on that leg, there was a constant aroma of blood, unlike any other creature.

A very delicious food, but it couldn’t bring itself to eat him.

It rested on the windowsill, its diamond-shaped petals fully spread. Along the edges, the fuzzy tentacles swayed, greedily inhaling the molecules in the air.

The vines silently filled the entire room. Dark red small flowers climbed onto the head of the bed, landing on the human’s delicate little nose.

Living, warm breath.

It waited silently until the sky began to brighten and the human was almost awake before it moved forward.

It quietly lifted the thin bedsheet. The giant, fleshy petals pinned down the human on the bed, and the stamen wrapped around his knee.

Such a cute human, I want him so much.

It licked the human’s wounds, the urge to pollinate stronger than ever before.

I like you so much, I like you so much.

When Luo Qi opened his eyes, he saw a dark, gloomy space.

The cloyingly sweet floral scent enveloped his nose, making him feel groggy and still immersed in the lingering warmth of sleep.

What was going on? Was it not dawn yet? But why was there light…

His brain hadn’t quite caught up when an intense itching pain in his left leg made his whole body shudder.

“Mng—”

Looking down, the stamen was wrapped just above his left knee, its tip burrowing into the gauze bandages.

“What are you doing?”

His hand instinctively grabbed the stamen, wanting to pull it out, but it felt slippery and he couldn’t get a grip.

His hands were covered in sticky, transparent secretions. The stamen was wrapped around his wound, seemingly trying to heal him.

“Don’t…” He struggled twice, grabbing the edge of the headboard to crawl upward, wanting to escape from under the covering petals.

The little snake finally realized his aversion; the petals lifted, and the stamen pulled back.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, the stamen retracted halfway and stopped. The anther sac was pulled from the bandage, bringing out a section of dark red pollen. There was a large amount of pollen, piled together and scattered on his leg and the bed.

“I told you, don’t pollinate me!” Luo Qi was so angry he grabbed his pillow and threw it hard at the flower crown.

The black flower flinched after being hit, deflating miserably. The vines in the room wound around his bed, wriggling as they crawled out.

It hurt so much, and it was so itchy. Luo Qi gritted his teeth, nearly reaching his breaking point from being pricked by the mucus.

“Get out!” He finally pulled his leg out and shrank to the edge of the bed, avoiding the wandering vines.

Perhaps sensing his strong resistance, the little snake quickly left the room. However, it did so in a “heartbroken” posture. Every single flower bud on those vines had wilted.

Luo Qi leaned his head against the wall, panting with his mouth slightly open. The pain in the wound gradually lessened, turning into a strange itchiness that pricked into his flesh, making him want to claw at his skin.

He pulled off the sticky bandage. The inside was a bright red, making it impossible to distinguish between blood and pollen.

After acclimating for a moment, he got out of bed and took a bottle of disinfectant from his backpack, pouring it on his leg to clean it.

This time, it didn’t hurt as much. He squeezed the disinfectant cotton, wiping away the liquid on the wound to observe it.

For an entire year, what these thorn shackles had left behind weren’t just physical wounds, but psychological ones too. It was his shame, a “prison scar” that was difficult to erase.

By now, the wound on his left leg had mostly healed, leaving only a ring of fine red pinpricks about two fingers wide. It was no longer bleeding, nor was it itchy. It seemed the wound had stopped healing.

Perhaps because the wounds left by the thorn shackles were too deep, or perhaps because the inside had already healed, these needle holes hadn’t completely disappeared. The effect was entirely different from the earlier wound on his calf. No new, tender flesh had grown.

Luo Qi wrapped both hands around his left leg and squeezed hard; it still hurt a little. Maybe it hadn’t completely healed.

He turned his head to look out the window. The little snake had returned to being quiet, but the entire canopy looked different. The branches looked as if they were broken, each one hanging down. The vines had retracted to their shortest, and the flowers were all closed up, looking shriveled. It was physically “shriveled,” especially the black flower, which had shrunk to half its size.

“…” Were the little snake’s emotions really that obvious? How had it squeezed all the moisture out of itself?

Luo Qi pulled another bottle of clean water from his backpack, took a few gulps, and tried to stand up. His left leg felt no resistance; he no longer had to endure that heart-piercing pain.

He tossed the water bottle back into his backpack, a trace of guilt rising in his heart. The little snake was trying to help him; his reaction just now had been a bit excessive. But no matter how experienced he was, being pinned down on a bed early in the morning and having a wound pollinated was something that made it very difficult to stay calm.

Did this guy even know what it was doing?

Luo Qi changed his clothes, put on his backpack, and went downstairs. He planned to give the little snake a good lecture; doing things that defied common sense meant it wasn’t an obedient pet.

He went into the yard and searched for a long time among the roots on the ground before finally finding a suitable bulge near the trunk. He touched the thick root, his brow arching slightly.

The snake’s bark was even smoother than the day before yesterday.

He sat on the root, set his backpack aside, and clenched his hands, thinking about his words. It wasn’t a dog, a cat, or even a mutant beetle or any other creature he had trained before. It was a… man-eating tree, and he wasn’t even sure if it could still be called a plant.

Luo Qi propped his head in his hands, feeling troubled, as a red petal drifted down in front of his eyes and landed by his feet.

He picked up the petal and rubbed it gently in his hands.

“Thank you for earlier,” he said to the petal.

The petal had been detached from the flower, but it seemed to still retain life; the small serrated edges at the border softened and retracted.

“However, don’t barge into my room like that next time. It’s not because I hate you, it’s just that I need a bit of personal space too.”

“Humans are creatures that need to maintain distance,” he placed his hand on the trunk. “Even toward me, it’s the same.”

“Of course, if you act more obediently, I can give you rewards. For example, fresh meat, or… something else.”

The black flower in the canopy climbed down the branches, the vine hanging in front of his face like an obedient silver snake. The petals were still wilted, as if they hadn’t been watered for months, and the anthers on the stamen were shriveled; it seemed all its powder had been spat out earlier.

“If there’s something you want, I’ll try my best to give it to you. But this island is very desolate, so we don’t have many choices.”

The black flower just hung there against the trunk, showing no reaction.

Seeing it like this, Luo Qi wracked his brains. How on earth was he supposed to coax a tree?

He pondered for a long while before tentatively speaking: “Actually, scattering pollen… isn’t entirely forbidden.”

Sure enough, there was movement from the petals; several of them suddenly puffed up.

“On the condition that you listen to me,” Luo Qi rested the back of his hand against the gradually plumping petals. “Also, the pollen must be scattered in a location I specify.”

Like in a bottle. However, Luo Qi didn’t plan on explaining that part clearly yet.

“If you think you can do that, tap my hand twice.”

The black flower swayed its vine and rubbed against the back of his hand twice.

“Very good, that’s our agreement.” He flipped his palm and gave the plump flower bud a reassuring squeeze. “Are you happier now?”

The black flower twirled in the air, rapidly regaining its vitality. In just a dozen seconds, the entire tree seemed to come back to life, its vines drooping down and its branches straightening up. Like a time-lapse video, a shriveled tree returned to life.

Luo Qi watched the flower, the fine golden patterns on the petals glowing as if they were being electrified. It was truly a sight to behold.

Luo Qi was mesmerized by the scene; this little snake always managed to surprise him. He leaned against the trunk, looking up at the top of the tree. That was the “mouth” of the man-eating tree, containing its digestive system and other “internal organs.”

Perhaps it controlled the form of its exposed branches by manipulating its “organs.”

Luo Qi analyzed this in his mind, intending to record the theory. This was something the previous report hadn’t mentioned.

He immediately went into the studio in the basement, opened his notebook, and wrote down a detailed account of his observations of the man-eating tree over the past two days.

[Observation Record for Little Snake No. 1]

Beep beep—the communicator sounded. His pen paused on the paper, having already written a few words.

[Experimental Subject A001, simple personality, not very obedient.]

[He is a pet I like.]

After finishing today’s observation diary, he finally glanced at the communicator’s screen.

The chocolate beans had arrived.

He closed the notebook, briefly tidied his backpack, hung the bone ring on the photo wall, and put Ji Qiu’s wallet into his desk. He was ready to head out.

Luo Qi tucked his gun away and went to the main hall on the first floor. After a moment’s hesitation, he decided against crossing the yard. His two guns were still hanging on the tree; having just coaxed the little snake, he didn’t want his efforts to go to waste.

He found a window in the hall to climb out of, rounded the edge of the courtyard wall to reach the base gate, and got into the beetle car.

Shi Yi had been waiting in the shadows for a long time. As soon as the engine started, it rushed from around the corner and jumped into the back seat.

Luo Qi took the last bit of chocolate out of his pocket and tossed it into his mouth.

“Time to collect our supplies.”

The car carrying one man and one dog sped down the main road. Shi Yi began to howl at the sky again, and Luo Qi was in a good mood too. Probably because his left leg finally didn’t hurt intensely every time he pressed down on the pedal.

Two helicopters were parked on the empty dock, one of which was the one Ji Qiu had left behind. These military vehicles required a command to start. If the Empire wanted to get it back, they would have to send a major general or a higher-ranking officer to fly it.

A salty sea breeze blew past. Luo Qi strolled around with Shi Yi, looking as relaxed as if he were walking a pet. Large patches of dried blood still covered the ground—masterpieces left behind by the man-eating tree. Under the lead, Shi Yi hopped and jumped around restlessly, sniffing everywhere.

Eventually, a helicopter door opened, and a man in a black coat jumped down.

The big dog’s ears stood up. It straightened its tail and looked at the newcomer, baring two rows of sharp teeth as its mouth curled back to its ears.

“Why is it you?” Luo Qi’s face darkened, and his previous ease vanished instantly.

“Xiao Luo.” The man in the black trench coat had shifting eyes as he lowered his head and bowed to him. “I applied to come here on my own.”

Behind him, a burly Imperial soldier stepped down, followed by an unfamiliar young soldier.

“Colonel An came too.” The man in the black coat pointed behind him. “He’s… here to deliver your chocolate.”

Luo Qi acted as if he didn’t even see the man, bypassing him to walk toward the approaching soldier.

“Colonel An, thanks.” He took the box from the colonel’s hand. “Give my regards to the Leader.”

The colonel nodded to him, standing in a military posture like a upright stone.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll be heading back.” Luo Qi tugged the lead, pulling the dog and the box to his feet.

“The Leader will call you if anything comes up,” Colonel An concluded briefly.

Both ignored the man in the black trench coat. Luo Qi pulled Shi Yi, who remained in a state of high alert, and turned to leave.

“Dr. Luo!”

The man chased after him. Before he could run more than a few steps, a low growl came from Shi Yi’s throat as he lunged forward, biting down on the man’s coat hem.

“Who are you calling?” Luo Qi grabbed Shi Yi’s collar, the lead pulling taut. “Come back.”

The big dog let go. The man took two steps back in fright, his bag falling to the ground and his glasses sliding to one side.

“Qu Lu,” Luo Qi finally gave him a direct look. “Since we used to work together, I’ll give you a chance.”

“Go back.”

Qu Lu used to be his assistant. Since the vaccine incident, he hadn’t seen this man. On the day of the public vote, all his subordinates and colleagues in the lab had vanished into thin air.

It was better that they vanished. Luo Qi would rather these people were dead and never appeared again. Unfortunately, six months ago, a message had been received on the wasteland base’s terminal.

Qu Lu hadn’t died; he had just gone into hiding.

“Why didn’t you reply to the email I sent you?”

He grabbed Luo Qi’s sleeve, but was shoved away.

Luo Qi gave him a dark look and used his elbow to vigorously brush off his sleeve, as if he had just touched something filthy.

“Do you hate me?” Qu Lu’s voice trembled, his pitch getting higher. “Do you hate me now?”

Luo Qi pulled the lead and took two steps back. “Not really.”

“Who do you think you are? You’re not worth my hate.”

Qu Lu swallowed, lowering his head with a look of shame, meeting the eyes of the angry, restless mutant dog. He summoned his courage and managed to stop his legs from moving back.

“I’m sorry…”

“Didn’t you say it? You have a sister, you have attachments.” Luo Qi repeated the sentences from that letter. “You were helpless.”

“And me—I’m all alone, it wouldn’t matter if I died.”

He spat out the last sentence coldly, as if he were talking about someone else.

“No! I didn’t say that last part!” Qu Lu shouted back. “I said I can help you now! You don’t have to be alone anymore!”

“Too late.” Luo Qi gave a careless smile. “Beat it.”

Qu Lu was choked by those words, stunned for a moment.

“Actually… I haven’t had a job for a while now.” He paused, taking off his glasses to reveal swollen eyes. “So I applied to the Leader to come here and assist with the Pure Land project.”

Luo Qi gazed at the sea in silence, seemingly lost in thought. A malicious smile appeared on his face.

“Sure. Come join my project.” The hand holding the lead inadvertently loosened. “My darling happens to be very short on food.”

Shi Yi felt his master’s permissiveness, and his rump was tapped by the lead again. He leaped forward, lunging at Qu Lu once more.

“Don’t come near me!”

He screamed as he fell onto his large bag, his left arm pierced by the dog’s teeth.

“My hand! My hand!”

He shook his hand frantically, but the sharp teeth sank deeper.

“That’s enough.” Luo Qi pulled the lead tight and barked an order. “Shi Yi, let go!”

The big dog reluctantly released him. The man’s arm was already bleeding, soaking his entire sleeve.

“Don’t be afraid, my dog knows when to stop.” Luo Qi pulled the lead, taking two steps forward as Qu Lu crawled back trembling.

“I’m just curious, you were with me for three years, why are you still so naive?”

Qu Lu struggled to prop himself up, his face contorted. “Xiao Luo, don’t be like this, I really can help you, please forgive me…”

“How many terminals do you think there are in this entire Empire?” Luo Qi looked down at him. “Let me ask you, whose terminal did you use when you sent that message?”

Panic flashed across Qu Lu’s face as he lay helplessly on the ground.

Years ago, Luo Qi had also worked at Yun’s Biochemicals. It could be said that he remembered every single terminal number in the company. Based on the new numbering algorithm for Imperial communications, he could determine that the terminal Qu Lu used to send the message definitely came from one of those companies.

In Luo Qi’s eyes, this was no different from betrayal.

He picked up the bag from the ground and piled it onto the wheeled suitcase. No matter what was inside, it couldn’t be wrong to take it.

“Colonel An, I’ll be taking these. But I’ll have to trouble you to take the trash back with you.”

Colonel An had watched everything, his expression still unchanged. “I only received the command to bring him here.”

“No, don’t leave me…” Qu Lu crawled for two steps and stopped, burying his head in his arms and sobbing. “Please forgive me, don’t go, please…”

Soon, the propellers of the two military helicopters kicked up a wind as they slowly rose.

Luo Qi dragged his supplies and the dog away, satisfied, leaving Qu Lu alone, lying on the desolate dock.

“An abandoned pawn, thrown away by Yun Tang, and now he wants to come back to me.” Luo Qi tied the luggage to the back seat, the big dog constantly nudging his leg.

“This piece of meat doesn’t taste good,” he patted Shi Yi’s head. “I’ll find you something better in a few days.”

“Awooo!” The big dog happily jumped onto the spacious back seat, squeezing in with the luggage.

Being alone and bleeding on a wasteland island filled with contamination meant the chances of being killed by wild beasts were high. If his luck was bad and he didn’t die, a human bitten by Shi Yi would mutate into a snake and die within two days anyway. This was the “forgiveness” Luo Qi granted him.

“I wonder if No. 1 eats chocolate.” Luo Qi tossed this little interlude aside, his mind returning to his little snake.

“Whine” Shi Yi nudged him with his head.

“You can’t eat it,” Luo Qi pushed the dog’s head away. “Sit still.”

Chocolate beans were his most precious supply, but he still wanted to share them with the little snake. Plus, he could observe the way a man-eating tree fed.

Last time things happened too suddenly, and from his position on the ground, he couldn’t see the “mouth” splitting open at the top of the snake, which was a real shame. He had to find a way to make up for it.

The little snake didn’t know it was already being plotted against. Its “head” sat obediently in the canopy, while its dozen or so “hands” were quietly rummaging through the human’s bedroom.

With a creak, the wardrobe opened a crack. Inside, several stacks of clothes were neatly folded, emitting a scent of soap and the aroma from the human’s body.

The small tentacles of the vines searched inside, the soft spines on the small fleshy flowers rubbing against the fabric.

Blue or black, which one was better?

It had a fit of indecision.

Vroom, vroom, vroom, the vehicle was approaching in the distance, and the little snake made a decision immediately.

Since it couldn’t choose, it would take both!

With a few swishes, the vines grabbed two pairs of pajamas and flew back to the yard.

“Yes.”

Luo Qi handed the data pad back. Jiang Luoyi took it with both hands, but at that moment, his attention was drawn to a pitch-black shadow.

That thick, long thing was pressed against the underside of the staircase railing, blending in with the staircase’s metallic black paint.

Seeing that Luo Qi had discovered it, it wriggled, changed its posture, and flipped its head up from the back of the railing.

Its snake pupils stared at Jiang Luoyi’s back, and its jaw muscles worked as it pulled open its mouth, revealing terrifying fangs—

“Jiang Luoyi, get over here!” Luo Qi shouted at him, drawing the attention of several soldiers.

Jiang Luoyi didn’t have time to ask why; he jumped away with agile movements and looked back where Luo Qi was pointing, meeting that wide-open mouth.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

The adjutant of the Luo Starship let out a scream that was extremely uncharacteristic of his rank, dropping the data pad to the ground.

The cry was both terrified and miserable, instantly causing a commotion. Several soldiers gathered with their guns: “Sir! What’s going on!”

Seeing the commotion, the little black snake instinctively closed its mouth with a smack and swished around to hide behind the railing.

“That’s” Jiang Luoyi pointed at the now empty railing. the soldiers who gathered approached in that direction.

“Stand back,” Luo Qi strode over. “Put your guns down.”

The little thing was pressed against the back of the metal railing.

“You little rascal, come out right now!”