I Married A Proud, Beautiful Omega First, Then Fell In Love - Chapter 6

“General Lu, please follow me.” Mo Nanshan leaned on his cane, limping along the corridor. He turned slightly, gesturing behind him with a humble attitude.

Behind him, Douglas wore a sharp, dark military uniform, left open over a black leather greatcoat. A row of honorary medals adorned his chest. With broad shoulders and a narrow waist, he exuded an imposing aura, nodding slightly in response.

Surrounding them in a semi-circle was a cluster of officers, maintaining a precise distance—respectful yet vigilant.

After walking for a minute, scenery other than machinery finally appeared on both sides of the corridor.

Countless dull, vacant eyes stared at the group of intruders through explosion-proof glass. Douglas didn’t stop his pace, but as he looked back at pair after pair of eyes, he couldn’t help but frown.

Suddenly, a sharp howl pierced the silence of the space, followed by the heavy thud-thud of violent impacts—the sound of human flesh and bone grinding against hard surfaces.

Douglas quickly locked onto the source of the noise.

In a space on the right side of the corridor, a soldier in standard deep-green combat fatigues had bloodshot eyes. His face was twisted in agony as he slammed his head frantically against the wall.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Blood sprayed from his head, covering his blue pupils, but he seemed utterly oblivious, repeating the mechanical movement with obsessive rigidity.

“Die! Die! Die!”

Beside him were many other soldiers in the same combat gear. Seeing this bloody scene, fear or excitement flickered in their vacant eyes; some trembled and retreated, some howled and roared, others wept helplessly.

It was a chaotic clamor.

Soon, doctors rushed in. They quickly subdued the agitated soldier with movements so swift and precise it was clear they handled these “accidents” frequently.

Douglas felt an indescribable irritability. He looked at Mo Nanshan with an unfriendly gaze. “General Mo, what is the meaning of this?”

Mo Nanshan chuckled softly, though there was no mirth in his eyes. His blue eyes were now cloudy, bearing witness to the hardships and time he had endured.

“These soldiers are survivors of the Amber Campaign, all suffering from severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). I believe General Lu is quite familiar with such symptoms. After all, three years ago, you suffered from similar troubles.”

Douglas gave a mirthless snort. “A threat?”

Mo Nanshan shook his head gently, his gaze fixed on the soldiers behind the glass. “They aren’t like you. They don’t have illustrious battle records, the King’s favor, or the highest rank… so they receive no treatment. They can only rely on the restriction of their freedom to obtain a temporary, stable living space, and they find it even harder to adapt to social communal life.”

He turned his gaze back to Douglas. “I say this not to gain sympathy. I simply wish to discuss terms with you.”

“You have come here to recruit teachers for the Military Combat Department of the Imperial Special Academy. I am well aware of your situation. In the Capital Star, which is controlled by the Great Families, it is difficult for you to recruit satisfactory teachers even with the King’s support. I can agree to your terms and provide a group of excellent officers as teachers for the Academy, but you must also agree to mine.”

“I hope you will establish a major called ‘Post-War Trauma Treatment’ at the Imperial Special Academy. After all, you have the relevant experience and know the relevant experts, don’t you?”

As a general accustomed to issuing orders on the battlefield, Douglas never liked being manipulated or controlled. However, faced with such a blatant “open scheme,” he could not refuse.

Douglas stared at the old officer’s weathered, wrinkled face and cloudy blue eyes for a long moment before saying, “I accept your terms. I hope you keep your word as well.”

“I will,” Mo Nanshan nodded, leaning on his cane. “Tonight, your AI brain will receive a list of officer-teachers.”

Upon leaving the Capital Military District, Douglas rubbed his chin in the starship’s control room, his fingers mimicking the motion of crushing a cigarette.

He had dressed up like a proper gentleman today specifically to put on a show at the Military District—using his newly acquired title of the Empire’s First General to suppress those conservative old foxes stationed at the Capital Star, eventually using “carrot and stick” tactics to make them bleed a group of excellent teachers.

He hadn’t expected to be outplayed by an old fox who seized the initiative and used those same tactics on him instead.

Suffocating. It was truly suffocating!

Douglas calmed his emotions and ordered his AI to start a group call. The projections of Qin and Bohill appeared in the starship.

Douglas looked at their expressions and asked, “How did it go?”

Qin’s tone didn’t fluctuate much. “The situation is alright. I successfully negotiated with some researchers. Although most of them don’t have a high academic level, they should be sufficient for teaching students.”

Douglas turned to Bohill. “And you?”

Bohill’s face looked grim for a moment, and he actually abandoned his usual grace to curse, “Those people at the Capital University of the Arts are simply ungrateful! They were being incredibly sarcastic, hinting that the salary isn’t high and that coming to the Imperial Special Academy would insult their ‘artistic sensibilities.’ It made my blood boil! I didn’t recruit a single one!”

Qin shot him a look. “Of course they were sarcastic. You went to their turf to poach their staff; it’s a miracle the Principal didn’t kick you out.”

Bohill gave a desperate smile. “The Arts Association is controlled by the Albert family. I’d be insane to recruit there. Capital University of the Arts was already the best choice after weighing the options.”

Douglas let out an “Ah,” clutching his forehead and slumping down in pain. “Forget it, we’ll talk about it later,” he said, cutting the connection.

At this moment, Douglas was gnashing his teeth in frustration.

Contanyi said he was founding a university, but in reality, he only provided a piece of land and a derelict building. Because the school plan hadn’t been discussed in Parliament and was announced privately by the King, they couldn’t touch the national treasury.

Douglas had talked until his tongue was sore—nearly to the point of committing insubordination by beating the Great King of Tansan—just to get a pitifully small sum of money from Contanyi’s private assets.

This fund was barely enough to recruit teachers, but the salary levels offered were far below those of the universities on Capital Star.

Since bribery wasn’t working, he could only rely on connections. He had called upon his entire network—which was actually just a few “fair-weather friends” from Planet SK—and that had only solved the teacher shortage for the Military Combat and Medical Departments.

There was absolutely no progress for the Arts Department.

Douglas sighed, setting his destination to the Imperial Special Academy’s address, intending to check the infrastructure first.

The Imperial Special Academy was located on a near-earth artificial floating island in the west of Capital Star. The island held only one magnificent European-style building, resembling an aerial fairyland from prehistoric fables.

But the reputation of this “aerial fairyland” was not good. This building previously belonged to the founding King of the Tansan Empire. Despite having an unprecedented pioneering spirit and achieving the feat of unifying the universe, he had one fatal weakness: he was a philanderer.

He had several young and beautiful secretaries. These “secretaries” ostensibly helped him with government affairs, but in reality, they were his private lovers. All these secretaries were trained by the Royal Secretarial College—the predecessor of this “castle in the sky.”

Although the second King of Tansan quickly abolished the Royal Secretarial College upon taking office and reduced the number of royal secretary positions, he couldn’t change the culture that a King’s secretary had to be young and beautiful.

This trend had persisted to the present day; Bohill’s passionate and elegant appearance was a testament to that.

Because of its unsavory history, the building had been abandoned for a long time. As Douglas walked around, his brow gradually furrowed.

Currently, there wasn’t a single person inside the building; only maintenance robots were at work. They had been working continuously for a month, repairing the long-abandoned structure until it was perfect and safe.

Douglas looked around a classroom for a moment, then placed his hand on a piece of smart furniture, clicking the “on” button on the electronic screen. The screen flickered from black to blue, and after a moment, a line of red Capital Star text appeared.

“Dear student, welcome to the infrastructure of Capital Star University.”

Douglas’s face turned as black as the bottom of a pot. He immediately sent a call request to Contanyi. When he saw Contanyi’s solemn face with blonde hair and green eyes, he took a deep breath to steady his emotions and asked, “My respected King, may I ask what is going on here?”

He tapped the electronic screen and demonstrated it again for Contanyi.

Contanyi blinked, then gave a gentle and innocent smile. “This batch of smart desks and chairs was donated by Capital Star University. The functionality and quality aren’t bad, and they are still usable, so it would be inappropriate to waste them. Starting a university from scratch isn’t easy, especially under tight financial circumstances. I hope you can understand.”

Douglas laughed out of sheer anger. “I can’t understand! The school I’m founding actually has to use second-hand junk discarded by our rivals? How am I supposed to recruit students? I can’t afford to lose this kind of face!”

Contanyi tried to explain: “They aren’t exactly ‘junk.’ The technological level of these desks is considered top-tier on the market…”

Douglas was still fuming. “How about this: you allocate another fund to me, and I’ll replace them.”

“You know my style has always been frugal, and I currently have no extra funds on hand…” Contanyi acted as if it were a difficult situation.

It was true that he didn’t have enough funds, but he believed Douglas would solve these minor problems himself. Therefore, he could shamelessly push the problem onto Douglas with a clear conscience.

Sure enough, Douglas suppressed the fire in his heart, leaving behind a sentence: “I don’t need you anymore; I’ll find a way.” He then abruptly cut the connection.

The Reformists only managed to enter the political arena with Contanyi’s support; compared to the Conservative party dominated by nobles, their power was still very weak. Although the current King and the First General both belonged to the Reformists, this was merely a facade of prosperity. The true lifeblood of the nation was still controlled by the Conservatives.

The Reformists—to put it nicely—were an “emerging power.” To put it bluntly, they were just one thing: poor.

Douglas thought it over and over, finally deciding to target the “fat sheep” of the Conservative nobility. Among the Conservative nobles, only the Riemann family showed a clear intention of befriending the Reformists—otherwise, they wouldn’t have married Elan to him.

But when Douglas thought of Elan’s face, he remembered his caustic words and his flushed face at the banquet. He had helped him that day, and the guy didn’t even say a single “thank you!”

Douglas felt awkward and conflicted; he really didn’t want to see him. If Elan found out he was forced to seek help from the Riemann family, wouldn’t he become even more overbearing and laugh at him from then on?

It was a matter of Alpha dignity; Douglas would not allow that to happen.

Since the Arts Department hadn’t recruited any teachers yet, then… Douglas’s gaze sharpened, and he turned quickly to leave the classroom.