When the Major General Omega Picked Up a Little Snake Alpha - Chapter 23

That little brat didn’t come down when he called; instead, it climbed even higher, scaling the pillar by the handrail.

It was furious.

First that Beta, then this Alpha—ignorant, two-legged creatures.

It desperately wanted to snap their necks.

It was also starving.

Not the hunger of an empty stomach, but a hunger triggered by the little fruit’s pheromones. Just because it had shown restraint a moment ago didn’t mean it could hold back forever, especially after it had delved into that Alpha’s mind.

The little snake’s movements were too swift. Before Luo Qi could get a clear look at its tongue, the treat in his hand was snatched away.

The furry slit of a mouth twitched a couple of times and then opened slightly, revealing that the chocolate had already vanished.

“You!” Luo Qi clutched his chest in distress. “Who told you to swallow it whole?”

“Do you have any idea how precious that was?”

The large black flower on his shoulder rubbed against his neck before sliding into his arms, nuzzling him apologetically. A sweet scent immediately flooded his senses.

“Fine.” His eyes flickered slightly. “If you stick that… tongue out and let me see it one more time, I won’t be mad at you.”

The mouth slit widened a bit more, and a pinkish “tongue” slid out, nearly as wide as a forearm.

It began to climb along a vine toward the human’s right hand.

Luo Qi’s right hand was currently resting on a thin vine; his fingertips were only centimeters away from that tongue. With just a slight lift of his fingers, he could touch it.

In the spirit of scientific research, he couldn’t let this opportunity slip by.

So, bravely and intentionally, he placed his hand over the man-eating snake’s tongue, feeling the texture beneath his palm.

It was damp, warm, very soft, and covered in fine patterns.

It was bizarre, feeling strikingly similar to a human tongue.

The small tongue suddenly curled up, wrapping tightly around his four fingers before slowly “spitting” them back out.

“What are you doing now…”

It seemed to be cleaning the residual chocolate from his fingers.

“Stop that.” A chill ran down Luo Qi’s spine, and his skin became hyper-sensitive.

The little snake slowed its movements, its tongue still coiled around his index finger. The fluid it secreted emitted a herbal fragrance.

“Stop licking!”

Luo Qi yanked his hand back, his heart thumping hard against his ribs.

The little snake’s head nudged upward in confusion, seemingly unable to understand why the human was “angry.”

Actually, he didn’t seem angry, just flushed at the ears and incredibly flustered.

“Let me go back.” Luo Qi decided to temporarily abandon his “mouth research” project; he truly couldn’t handle that sensation.

It felt too much like a human tongue, and that unnerved him.

The little snake lingered, rubbing against him. It hadn’t “held” its human nearly long enough; why did it have to end so soon?

It even wanted to help the human wash up, since those hands were covered in the scent of those sweet beans.

Beep, beep. On his left wrist, the damp communicator let out a notification ping. Luo Qi had received another email.

“Hurry up and put me back,” Luo Qi urged. “I have to get to work.”

He needed to read a few emails to calm his nerves.

Reluctantly, the little snake delivered him back, setting him down by the bed.

As soon as Luo Qi’s feet hit the floor, he rushed to his terminal, opened the email interface, and began to read intently. The effect was immediate; the moment he saw the subject line, he calmed down.

It was an email from his mentor; there was finally a lead on the origin of that pattern.

However, when he clicked the email, he didn’t find the content he was looking for.

[I am sorry, but I know very little regarding this pattern.]

[If you wish to learn more, you can apply to the Governor to borrow a book titled “The Lingering Humans.”]

[Furthermore, please do not message me again, and I will not reply further. We are no longer on the same path, but I sincerely wish you well.]

His gaze froze on the final sentence, his mind momentarily going blank.

Had Yun Tang threatened his mentor? Or did he… simply no longer wish to be in contact with an exiled criminal?

If it was the latter, it wasn’t really surprising.

Everyone who distanced themselves from him had their own struggles. Perhaps his mentor was up for a promotion, or perhaps his family had been threatened. Whatever the reason, it was only right to draw a clear line.

Luo Qi closed his eyes and leaned back against his chair, his thoughts a tangled mess.

His chest felt a bit heavy.

That sweet herbal scent rose in the room once more. The little snake’s head nudged closer, carefully resting on his lap. The tentacles on its petals poked at his thigh through the fabric, making him itch.

Feeling the weight on his legs, he opened his eyes. He realized that at some point, the ceiling and walls had been covered in vines. Fleshy little red flowers were opening and closing, as if exhaling molecules into the air.

A thin vine climbed the chair and rested on his leg.

“Come,” Luo Qi said, holding out an open palm. “Shake hands.”

A cluster of small red flowers obediently ducked into his palm, rolling around as if acting spoiled.

How does the little snake hear me? Luo Qi held the snake’s “hand” in his palm, kneading it repeatedly.

He really wanted to pluck one off for a closer look.

His eyes darted toward the spare toolbox under the table, which contained a large pair of shears.

If he were to snip this tentacle…

No, for safety’s sake, he shouldn’t be impulsive.

He would consider it after he’d raised it for a while longer.

The flower buds felt wonderful to squeeze. The texture of the petals was like the skin of a sleek animal, yet mixed with a fibrous, plant-like quality. It was very skin-friendly.

It was also a great stress reliever.

Luo Qi’s mood began to improve. Just as he was getting addicted to the feeling, a stamen emerged from the center of the large black flower, wiggling its way up his wrist.

“Don’t go poking around.” He patted the little snake’s head.

Just as he pulled his arm away, the stamen reached out toward the space between his eyebrows.

Luo Qi couldn’t dodge in time and was poked right in the forehead. Fortunately, its anther sacs were empty, so no pollen leaked out.

This movement felt familiar. Luo Qi suddenly remembered that two days ago, when he first met the little snake, it had also used its stamen to poke him there.

A hypothesis formed in his mind.

Perhaps this was its way of communicating?

For instance, this soft spike might be a sensory organ, capable of perceiving information through touch.

Luo Qi rubbed the back of his finger against the black flower.

“The human body has forbidden zones; there are places you can’t touch.”

“The places you can touch are only the parts not covered by clothes, like the hands.”

Luo Qi turned his palm up. “You can keep shaking my hand.”

The vine moved closer again, and a red flower bud stuffed itself into his palm like a little fist.

“You know, you’re my twelfth ‘darling.'”

“But I’m naming you Number One, because you’re the best.”

It wasn’t just because it was beautiful, but because before it, Luo Qi had never raised a human mutant.

The mortality rate of the K-Virus was nearly one hundred percent. Once a human mutated, they would deteriorate and die within ten days.

This was exactly why vaccine development was so difficult; no one could withstand the virus long enough to produce antibodies.

Except for Luo Qi himself.

He had thought he was the only human to survive the K-Virus infection. Now, it seemed he wasn’t alone.

It was just that this little snake hadn’t continued its life as a human.

Luo Qi observed the black flower. From a botanical perspective, the flower was the snake’s reproductive organ, and the stamen was a crucial part of that. Using this part for sensing and communication seemed to make sense.

But if viewed as a “human,” this kind of contact felt a bit… different.

“Also, next time…” He used his other hand to hold the flat anther sac. “Try not to touch me with this.”

“Because this organ, ahem.” He found himself at a loss for how to explain. “Because this spike is very dangerous.”

He changed his phrasing, though it wasn’t very convincing.

“Even when it’s soft, it’s still dangerous,” he added solemnly.

“Xiao Hei,” the General’s tone was displeased, “Are you being disobedient again?”

Fang Xi sneered internally, waiting for the General to lose his temper.

However, in the next second, that wicked snake actually lunged at the General’s face.

“Luo” He was about to shout, but he saw the snake’s head tap against the General’s chin, landing softly near the corner of his flushed lips. A forked tongue flicked out twice in a rapid lick.

He watched as the General stared at the snake in a daze, not even pulling his hand away.

His cheeks had even taken on a strange, pink hue.

Fang Xi was so furious he could barely breathe.