I Transmigrated Into The Secret Husband Of The Zerg Marshal - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Passcode

Arnold was out, so it was my turn to go in. Once in the bathroom, I didn’t want to come out. With a sense of impending doom, I stalled in the bathroom for what felt like half a century.

I first thoroughly examined the shower system that could automatically adjust water temperature and force, switching from Tropical Rainforest mode to Arctic Glacier mode, nearly freezing myself into a popsicle. Then, I studied the fully automatic dryer, feeling the warm air blowing across every inch of my skin from three hundred and sixty tricky angles, making me feel like a car just off the car wash production line.

In short, I used all the knowledge I’d acquired in life, treating every buttoned object in the bathroom as a bug waiting to be cracked, attempting to use the delay tactic to combat this rotten reality.

However, tactics were useless. After experiencing every function, and even pressing on a seemingly ordinary tile on the wall for a long time to see if it was a touch screen, I had to face one fact: I had to go out.

I stood in front of the huge mirror, looking at my own pale-faced, shifty-eyed reflection. The bathrobe I was wearing was the same style as Arnold’s earlier one, just a different size.

The same soft fabric, carrying the same cool, high-end soap scent.

What was this? Matching couple’s pajamas?

I shivered, feeling my CPU starting to smoke again.

No, I needed my spiritual pillar. My stainless-steel thermos, my goji berries and red dates, my soulmate, was still abandoned somewhere. Without it, I wouldn’t even have the courage to walk out of this door tonight.

Just as I was restlessly debating whether to feign a faint or play dead, a slight tap-tap sound suddenly came from outside the bathroom door.

I was startled, nearly jumping up.

“Who is it?” I asked, lowering my voice nervously.

There was no answer outside the door.

A few seconds passed, and then another “tap-tap.”

I crept to the door and opened a small crack.

No one was outside, only my gleaming, stainless-steel thermos, the one with a few scratches I’d idly picked at, conspicuously placed on the floor.

I was stunned, then snatched my precious thermos inside, hugging it tightly as if I held the whole world. The cool yet familiar metallic touch emanated from my palm. I unscrewed the lid, and the steam, mixed with the sweet aroma of goji berries and red dates, wafted into my face. I was practically moved to tears.

I was resurrected.

This must have been Arnold. Even though he didn’t speak, he accurately anticipated the user needs of his core resource. This guy, he’s not bad after all!

With my thermos to give me courage, I finally had some confidence. I changed into the prepared pajamas, took a deep breath, and pushed open the bathroom door.

The light in the bedroom had been dimmed considerably, leaving only a circle of soft, ambient light strip around the ceiling. My eyes immediately locked onto the bed, large enough to host an athletic meet, and the figure already lying there, turned away from me.

Arnold was already asleep?

He was covered by a thin blanket, only exposing the back of his dark head. Asleep, he had contained all his sharpness and oppressive aura, looking… strangely harmless. The only sound in the entire room was his steady, long breathing.

The anxiety in my heart inexplicably halved.

This was great. As long as I didn’t have to make awkward small talk face-to-face, everything was fine. It was like the product manager finally clocked out, and I, the contractor, could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Hugging my thermos, I tiptoed, somehow with the mentality of a thief, and silently crept to the other side of the bed. This bed was truly enormous; the distance between us felt like two more of me could fit in the middle. I cautiously lifted the corner of the blanket and tucked myself in, my body rigid as a plank, slowly inching myself along the edge of the bed, terrified of accidentally rolling over and touching some switch I shouldn’t.

The blanket still carried his scent. That clear, crisp green grape aroma, mixed with the soap scent from the shower, wafted into my nostrils. My cheeks started to flush, and my heart rate accelerated uncontrollably.

I had lived for over twenty years, and this was the first time I was lying in the same bed with a… creature of the same external gender. This feeling was too bizarre, more maddening than writing an infinite loop bug.

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to calm down, and started mentally reciting “TCP/IP Illustrated,” from the physical layer to the application layer, attempting to use technical knowledge to override this damned awkwardness.

Just as I was mentally reciting the “three-way handshake, four-way termination” phase, and was about to enter a state of deep sleep, a faint blue light suddenly illuminated from the direction of the bedside table.

The light was particularly noticeable in the dim room.

I abruptly opened my eyes, turned my head, and looked toward the light.

It was Arnold’s personal communicator.

It was a translucent, ring-shaped smart device, thin as a cicada’s wing, currently suspended above the bedside table.

I glanced at Arnold again; his breathing remained steady, seemingly completely undisturbed.

I twisted my neck, my gaze fixed on the faint blue light.

The thing just hovered there quietly, like a jellyfish from the deep sea.

I mused that I had been brainstorming how to hack into that floor-to-ceiling window for information, and now, a more direct backend portal was right in front of me.

Arnold’s personal communicator. It must contain all the secrets about him and the entire “project.”

I secretly glanced at the figure with his back to me. His breathing was steady; he seemed genuinely deeply asleep.

To gamble or not to gamble?

… I, Chen Jiuliu, had spent my previous life battling product managers, battling Party A, and battling countless lines of bugs. My life was a grand gamble. I clenched my fist.

I’m gambling!

But before that, I needed to conduct a rigorous user test.

Round One: Sound Test.

I cleared my throat, letting out an extremely subtle “cough,” as if I wanted to talk to him but my throat was a little dry.

… No reaction.

Arnold’s figure was completely still; even the frequency of his breathing hadn’t changed at all.

Excellent. Phase one test passed.

I felt my courage grow.

Round Two: Vibration Test.

Like a tortoise preparing for hibernation, I slowly, extremely slowly, moved my stiff body toward the middle of the bed at a speed of one millimeter per second.

The mattress was very high-quality, absorbing almost all movement.

I stared intently at his back, not daring to blink.

His broad back remained clearly defined in the dim light, like a sleeping volcano, seemingly calm, but who knew when it would suddenly erupt?

One second, two seconds… ten seconds.

He still didn’t move.

Phase two test passed.

My heart began to race, adrenaline surged, and a mixture of fear and excitement rushed through my limbs. This was more thrilling than the first time I successfully hacked into the company’s internal network.

Now, it was the final round, the ultimate stress test.

I needed a plausible reason to justify a larger movement, to get closer to him.

My eyes fell on the carpet beneath the bedside table.

My stainless-steel thermos, my only spiritual pillar, was quietly lying there!

Perfect.

I took a deep breath and, again in slow motion playback, slowly propped up my upper body, then leaned over, stretching my arm out toward the thermos.

This movement inevitably crossed the invisible line between us, and my arched upper body hovered diagonally above Arnold. The clear, green grape scent on him was so strong now that it made my scalp tingle.

At this moment, my fingertips were about to touch my thermos.

Just then, the person on the bed moved.

He merely rolled over slightly, changing from a complete side lie to a slightly more supine position.

I instantly froze, like a pause button had been pressed, my arm suspended in mid-air, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead.

Will he suddenly wake up?

Will he discover my little scheme?

Is he about to open those gray-blue eyes and question me: “Male Lord, what are you doing?”

My brain rehearsed ten thousand scenarios of being caught red-handed, each one enough to cause my social death followed by my physical death.

Time crawled by, each second feeling like an eternity.

The expected interrogation did not come.

I only heard his steady breathing, still long and even, as if the slight turn was merely an unconscious action.

I held my breath and waited for another half minute.

Confirmed safe.

My heart hammered against my ribs, threatening to leap out of my throat.

F*ck, he scared the life out of me.

I quickly and silently grabbed my thermos, retreated under the covers, and then… struck while the iron was hot!

Now is the moment!

I mustered all the courage of my life, using the fastest speed I had ever achieved, like a swift wildcat. My arm shot out like lightning, seizing the hovering, faintly glowing blue ring-shaped smart device, and then I yanked my hand back, firmly pressing it into my blanket!

The entire process was smooth, fluid, and completed so quickly that I didn’t even fully register it myself.

Having done all this, I felt like my bones had been removed. I lay straight back on the bed, covered myself completely with the blanket, and only dared to peek through a tiny gap to observe Arnold’s movements.

He didn’t move.

He really didn’t wake up.

I succeeded.

I, Chen Jiuliu, an F-grade weakling, had successfully snatched the Marshal’s personal communicator right under his nose!

Hidden under the covers, my entire body was trembling slightly, and my heart was pounding so violently that I felt I might die on the spot from tachycardia.

The smart device in my arms emitted a faint, eerie blue light, illuminating my blanket like a small blue water globe.

I looked at the light and swallowed.

Alright, the hardware is in hand.

Now the question is…

What is the passcode for this thing?