When the Major General Omega Picked Up a Little Snake Alpha - Chapter 7

“Um… yeah.” Luo Qi opened and closed his palm, his mind clearly elsewhere.

Perhaps because he’d taken the stabilizer, he hadn’t suffered any more relapses.

Beep, beep— The wristband communicator on his left hand began to chime. Someone was calling.

“Let’s go, time to head out.”

He led Luo Xiaoyu out of the room and made sure the glass enclosure was locked before answering the call.

“Luo Qi,” Xue Ying’s image projected onto the surface of the glass door, “did you receive the invitation?”

“I did. I’ll be attending.”

Governor Xue was Xue Ying’s father and a former comrade-in-arms of Luo Qi’s own father, so there was no reason for him to skip the birthday party.

“My father wanted to ask when your father is returning, and if he’ll be able to make it to the party.”

“Then he’ll just have to ask him himself,” Luo Qi said with a light smile, “I have no idea when he’s coming back.”

“Right, I understand.”

Luo Qi waited for Xue Ying to hang up. Typically, Xue Ying would shut off the screen immediately after a line like that, sometimes without even saying goodbye.

Today, however, he was acting a bit strange. The light screen remained active, Xue Ying’s image reflecting against the glass panel. His eyes were dark, and he looked as though he wanted to say something more.

“If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up,” Luo Qi said, moving to end the conversation.

“Wait, you,” Xue Ying reached up to touch his collar and tilted his chin slightly, “how is your hand?”

“My hand? You mean the wound?” Luo Qi glanced toward Luo Xiaoyu, who was wandering aimlessly near the display cases. “It’s fine, already healed.”

“I see you haven’t taken the bandage off yet.”

“It’s only been a day.”

“Then how can you say it’s fine?” Xue Ying’s voice dropped an octave, and he added, “Remember to apply your medication on time.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Luo Qi replied patiently, his finger already hovering over the disconnect button. “Anything else?”

“Are you in that much of a hurry to hang up?”

“Why?” Luo Qi arched an eyebrow. “Do you want to have a heart-to-heart?”

“I…” Xue Ying choked for a second. “Nothing else. The temperature is dropping these next few days, so stay warm.”

“Will do.”

After cutting the connection, a metaphorical question mark slowly floated through Luo Qi’s mind.

What was up with Xue Ying? He was acting so weird today.

But he quickly pushed the thought aside. Xiaoyu hadn’t visited in a long time, so he planned to hold a small gathering in this otherwise lonely mansion.

Luo Qi wasn’t much of a cook. As a child, his daily life had been managed by a butler. After entering the military academy, he ate at the mess hall, and once he joined the fleet, he had top-tier chefs preparing his meals.

He certainly valued his quality of life, but when it came to cooking, that meant having someone else take high-quality care of him.

This was especially true when Fang Xi was around.

Fang Xi was a truly versatile assistant and a first-rate cook. When Jiang Luoyi entered the kitchen carrying a heap of ingredients, he was immediately struck by the delicious aroma filling the room.

“What are you making?”

“Beef,” Fang Xi replied without looking back. “Go grab me a spoon.”

Jiang Luoyi continued to act as a hardworking helper, though it wasn’t for Fang Xi’s sake, but for the General’s.

This was the first time he’d been invited to stay for dinner at the General’s home.

He had once been jealous of Fang Xi, but now, he finally had his chance.

Luo Qi pulled four bottles of red wine from the cabinet. These were bottles his father had forgotten to take with him, each worth millions of star coins, roughly the price of a small luxury car.

He used an opener to unseal them all, pouring them into a decanter to let them breathe.

Once everything was ready, the group sat around the circular table in the dining room. A 270-degree curved floor-to-ceiling window arched over them, the lush plants outside sparkling with a light coating of rain and dew.

Luo Qi was in high spirits. He pulled Jiang Luoyi into a series of toasts, finishing two bottles by himself before eventually drifting off on a wide fabric lounge chair.

Luo Qi was a quiet drunk. In the past, he would often have a few drinks with his soldiers after finishing a mission, occasionally getting a bit tipsy.

Luo Xiaoyu had plans the next day, so he headed back to the city after dinner. While Fang Xi cleaned up in the kitchen, Jiang Luoyi found a small blanket and draped it over Luo Qi.

“Sir, you should go upstairs to sleep,” he whispered, terrified of waking him.

Luo Qi shook his head with his eyes closed, shifting his shoulder and settling onto his side.

His breathing was steady, and he fell asleep quickly, his long, thick lashes trembling slightly.

He was wearing loose silk loungewear. The collar was open and had slipped down one side, revealing two sharp, elegant collarbones.

Jiang Luoyi tugged at the collar to cover the bare, white shoulder, his fingernail accidentally brushing against the warmth of Luo Qi’s skin.

He pulled his hand back instantly, as if he’d been burned.

“Ready to go, Adjutant Jiang?” Fang Xi prompted from the side.

“Let’s go.”

Luo Qi had given them two days off, so they needed to head back.

The two of them exited one after the other. The lights in the transparent dining room dimmed. The temperature was perfect, making it feel like sleeping in a botanical garden.

In the middle of the night, Luo Qi’s eyes darted rapidly under his lids. He was dreaming vividly, scenes flashing by like a slideshow.

A jagged crater on a deserted planet, cities leveled by artillery, corpses on a battlefield, comrades saluting him. Many people walked past, smiling at him with unreadable expressions.

His brain was forcing him to remember, yet his emotions remained calm.

However, his breathing was becoming a bit labored.

Something heavy had crawled onto Luo Qi’s chest. His consciousness began to surface, but his body wouldn’t move. He tried to lift his eyelids, only managing to open them a tiny crack.

A large eye with a golden vertical pupil was staring right at him.

Xiao Hei? He tried to speak, but his lips refused to cooperate.

Shouldn’t Xiao Hei be locked in the glass room?

The little snake moved against his chest, coiling itself two or three times. It treated the blanket covering him like a nest, settling in comfortably.

So heavy… why is Xiao Hei so heavy?

Luo Qi’s breathing grew slower and slower, a buzzing sound filling his head. Finally, just as he felt he might suffocate, he jolted fully awake.

He propped himself up, and everything seemed normal.

Except for the wine decanter on the dining table.

A dark, ribbon-like object was coiled around the decanter, wriggling. Looking closer by the moonlight streaming through the window, he saw the little snake wrapped around the glass, its head tucked into the opening.

Its blunt, rounded cheeks puffed in and out, and its little tongue flicked out occasionally. It was actually drinking the wine.

With every slight movement, its scales reflected deep, colorful shimmers, like a flowing, dark rainbow.

The scent of red wine hung in the air. It was hard to tell if it came from the decanter or if it was being emitted by the snake. As Luo Qi breathed it in, he felt a secondary wave of intoxication.

He curled his legs up and settled back onto the down pillow. The blanket had slipped below his waist, but he was too lazy to fix it.

Watching the little snake drink at the table through a bleary haze, he suddenly felt a tickle in his heart.

He wanted to grab the little snake and give it a vigorous rub, but he simply didn’t have the strength.

Luo Qi fell back asleep. By the time he woke up again, it was daylight.

The blanket on him was a bit messy, but it was wrapped snugly up to his shoulders. The smell of wine in the room had dissipated, and the morning light poured in through the glass.

His vision felt clear and his mind refreshed. When his feet hit the floor, he didn’t feel even a hint of a hangover.

His clothes were a mess, though. Almost all the buttons had been rubbed off. Luo Qi stood by the table, running his fingers over the fabric as he tried to button what remained, his eyes fixed on the decanter.

The wine inside was gone, with only a drop or two clinging to the bottom.

He needed to check the activity room immediately.

His heart was racing with urgency, but his steps remained steady. Luo Qi skipped the elevator and climbed the spiral staircase to the third floor one step at a time.

There were no traces of a snake crawling on the floor.

When he reached the activity room, the doors were shut. These were heavy, double-leaf alloy doors. It was impossible for a small snake to push them open, and the gap at the bottom wasn’t nearly wide enough.

He pushed the doors open. The windows in the activity room were tightly closed, and the heavy curtains pooled on the floor, blocking out most of the light.

The door to the glass enclosure in the center was still locked. It could only be opened from the outside.

Luo Qi walked a full circle around the glass enclosure, confirming there was no damage. The ventilation holes had been sealed with tape by Fang Xi, leaving only enough space for air to circulate.

The little snake was still sleeping on the blanket inside the carrying case. When its tongue wasn’t moving, it looked exactly like a still ball of yarn.

Its rut appeared to be completely over. Luo Qi could no longer smell any pheromones.

He stepped inside the glass enclosure and knelt by the box to observe. The little snake’s body rose and fell subtly. When he poked it with a finger, the snake tightened its coils further.

“Did you sneak out last night?” Luo Qi poked it again. The tip of the snake’s tail popped out from underneath its body.

“I’m talking to you. Did you sneak a drink of my wine?” Luo Qi pinched the tip of the tail lightly between his fingers.

The snake’s entire body shivered. It pulled its tail back in and shoved its head deeper into the corner of the bedding.

It was hard to tell if it was being shy or acting out of a guilty conscience.

Luo Qi decided to let it go. He stepped back outside and eyed the lock on the glass room suspiciously.

First, it was a passcode lock. Second, the keypad was on the outside and protected by a sliding cover.

It was impossible to unlock it from the inside—unless this snake could move objects with its mind.

Was it just a dream last night?

Luo Qi called Fang Xi. It only took a couple of seconds for him to pick up.

“General, I’m here.” Fang Xi was fully dressed and looked ready to head out.

“Xi-zi, were you the last one to leave last night?”

“Yes.”

“How much wine was left in the decanter at that time?”

“The one on the table?” Fang Xi thought for a moment. “About a third was left. Only you and Adjutant Jiang were drinking, so there was quite a bit remaining.”

Luo Qi stared at the snake box inside the glass room through Fang Xi’s holographic image, falling into deep thought.

“General?” Fang Xi saw that he hadn’t moved for a while and thought the signal had frozen. He waved a hand in front of the camera. “Did something happen?”

“No, it’s nothing,” Luo Qi suddenly remembered the other living thing in the house. “That ordinary black snake… no one took it away yesterday, right?”

“Correct, it’s in the second-floor study. Don’t you remember?” Fang Xi leaned a bit closer to the lens. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine, just confirming,” Luo Qi said, rubbing his forehead. “Alright, go back to your time off.”

He hung up and rushed to the study. The ordinary snake was indeed still in its box.

This carrying case also had a lock, but it was a simple latch without a passcode. There were several thumb-sized air holes in the walls of the case.

Luo Qi sat in the study for a while longer, and then… he got hungry.

Forget it, what am I thinking? It’s not like a snake can open its own box.

Luo Qi went to the dining room to fry some eggs and make a few slices of toast. After eating, he studied the decanter once more.

It was definitely empty, save for those few drops at the bottom.

Could I have sleep-walked and drunk it myself?

But he didn’t have a history of sleepwalking. The possibility was low.

He chewed the last piece of bread and went back to the activity room to check on the snake. It was still hiding in the box, though its posture had changed; it was now peeking out slightly.

Luo Qi approached the glass door quietly. Seeing him come over, the little snake tucked its head back into its coils.

No matter how he looked at it, the thing seemed suspicious.

“Don’t you want to come out and get some sun?”

Luo Qi closed the main doors, unlocked the glass room, and pulled back the curtains, letting the warm sunlight flood the floor.

He sat on a foam mat next to the glass enclosure and pulled out a small box of soft blocks.

These were special blocks that could be reshaped using a program; one just had to draw the desired image first.

He wanted to build a little snake, and he wanted the snake to cooperate.

“Xiao Hei,” he tried calling toward the snake’s house, “come here.”

Xiao Hei didn’t budge.

Luo Qi began sketching a draft on his tablet. “Aren’t you going to come see? I’m drawing you.”

The snake house remained silent.

Maybe it can’t understand complex commands yet, Luo Qi thought, continuing to sketch.

Hearing the scratching sound from outside, the little snake eventually poked its head out, curiosity getting the better of it.

The “Little Fruit” was sitting on the floor, holding a drawing board. His hair wasn’t brushed, falling loosely over his relaxed shoulders.

The hand holding the pen was very white. Under the sunlight, it seemed to glow with a faint luminescence.

The snake extended its neck, trying to see the design on the board. It wondered what it looked like through Little Fruit’s eyes.

I must look both handsome and beautiful, it thought, full of confidence in its own charm.

Slowly, it slithered over until it was resting by Little Fruit’s leg, settling near his ankle.

Little Fruit noticed it. His crystal-like eyes lit up, and a faint pink flush crept onto his cheeks.

“Xiao Hei, you’re such a good boy.” Little Fruit rubbed its neck and turned the drawing board around to show it.

“Look, does it look like you?”

On the board was a sketch of a creature that looked like a fleshy caterpillar. It was bloated and lumpy, its body bent at an awkward angle. The thickness was uneven throughout, and at the narrowest point of the “head,” there were two messy black dots.

Xiao Hei: Who the hell is this?

“These are your eyes,” Little Fruit said, pointing at the dots. “And this is your body.” He traced his finger down the length of the fat caterpillar.

The tip of the snake’s tongue froze mid-flick. Its entire body turned to stone.