No Pampering the Vicious Cannon Fodder! [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 10

The bar was mostly deserted during the day, with few bartenders on duty.

 

When Xin Rong wandered through the door in a daze, only Kahn was there, leaning against the bar counter wiping a snifter.

 

Kahn was sharp-eyed and spotted him instantly: “Little beauty, why are you so listless today? Didn’t sleep well last night?”

 

Xin Rong raised a hand to rub his aching eyes, his eyelashes trembling slightly.

 

“How about I buy you a drink?” Kahn raised an eyebrow, casually taking a bottle from the liquor shelf. “Or do you only drink milk?”

 

Xin Rong knitted his brows and said stubbornly: “I want to drink alcohol.”

 

“How wild.” Kahn teased with a light laugh, deftly pouring him a glass before bringing over a fruit platter and placing it in front of him.

 

“This one’s on me.” he said, sitting comfortably back on his stool. “In broad daylight, I’m the only one who can help you kill time.”

 

“However, I can only stay for a bit.” a sweet smile suddenly broke across Kahn’s face, and he winked. “Someone’s coming to pick me up for a date soon.”

 

Xin Rong was taken aback, opening his mouth hesitantly: “Are you… an Omega?”

 

The corners of Kahn’s mouth curled up as he countered: “What, I don’t look like one?”

 

Xin Rong stared at him directly for a few seconds; he knew he shouldn’t judge by appearances, but the internal shock was too great, so he could only answer honestly: “You don’t.”

 

Kahn laughed until he doubled over: “Not all Omegas are little beauties like you, baby.”

 

His tone was intimate and frivolous, but after spending time together, Xin Rong had long grown used to his way of speaking, so he wasn’t repulsed.

 

Xin Rong picked up the glass and took a sip. The burning liquid slid down his throat, making him frown from the sting.

 

It wasn’t a flavor he liked, which made him even more melancholy. He slumped listlessly on the table, looking as wilted as a frost-bitten eggplant.

 

Seeing him like this, Kahn couldn’t help but laugh and ask: “Let me guess, did Jing Yue make you unhappy again?”

 

Xin Rong raised an eyebrow. He didn’t admit it, nor did he deny it.

 

Deep down, however, he knew that his current irritation toward Jing Yue was merely redirected frustration.

 

What truly left him at a loss was the powerlessness of losing his memory.

 

If only I could finish the mission sooner… Xin Rong thought silently.

 

Just then, Kahn spoke thoughtfully: “Actually, he didn’t use to be like this.”

 

Xin Rong looked up and saw Kahn stand up, bending down to retrieve a thick photo album from the cabinet.

 

He spread the album open on the table and said mysteriously: “Keep this quiet. If Jing Yue knew I still kept these photos, he’d definitely make a fuss and demand I destroy them all.”

 

Xin Rong leaned in, incredulous: “This is…”

 

The person in the photo was clearly Jing Yue in terms of facial features, yet for a moment, Xin Rong didn’t dare recognize him.

 

He was surrounded by a group of boys his age, his smile as bright as the sun, holding a glass of champagne high. Every gesture exuded the unique confidence and flamboyance of youth. He was radiant, as if born to be the focal point of a crowd.

 

“This was the first time he came to the arena. At that time, he was just a regular customer, coming to the bar with friends to celebrate. He had just passed the recommendation exam for the preparatory school—first place—recommended for the Mecha Combat Department, the hardest one to get into.”

 

“Every one of these boys looked like they had a limitless future, but none of them could compare to Jing Yue’s brilliance. He was the backbone of the group, everyone revolved around him.”

 

Kahn was still lost in memory, but Xin Rong’s eyes were fixed only on Jing Yue’s smile in the photo.

 

He murmured softly: “He looks so happy smiling…”

 

“Yeah, that day he was just like that, drinking while chatting and laughing with everyone. He had a great personality.” Kahn reminisced wistfully. “Even though he hadn’t differentiated back then, anyone could see he would definitely be a high-level Alpha, a magnificent military commander.”

 

Xin Rong’s gaze shifted to the boys surrounding Jing Yue. “What about these people? Are they still in contact with Jing Yue now?”

 

In Xin Rong’s impression, Jing Yue was always a loner; he had never seen him have any friends.

 

Kahn shook his head: “Since Jing Yue started working at the arena, I’ve never seen them again. Whether they distanced themselves from Jing Yue or Jing Yue took the initiative to cut contact, no one can say for sure. In short, the Jing Yue you see now is how he is.”

 

Xin Rong fell into silence.

 

The Jing Yue of that time had a smile full of confidence, as if the whole world was his to roam and the future was bright. He was a completely different person compared to the current irritable, defensive man who kept everyone at arm’s length.

 

All the changes began the moment he was diagnosed with a gland disability.

 

“Should I say fate is too unfair?” Kahn let out a bitter smile. “I don’t know. Jing Yue is never willing to talk about these things, he gets angry every time it’s mentioned. As his friend, I naturally hope he can move on, but I also know I’m not the one who can help him.”

 

Speaking to this point, Kahn’s gaze landed on Xin Rong: “I only know that if such a person exists, they would need to provide much more patience and tenderness to possibly bring Jing Yue back to his former self. This process might be difficult, even maddeningly frustrating, but the final reward… will definitely be worth more than the price.”

 

These words were quite cryptic, as if there was a deeper meaning. Xin Rong listened quietly without responding, his fingertips tracing over Jing Yue’s eyes in the photo.

 

Those pale lead-gray eyes, even seen through a photograph, shone brilliantly.

 

The air in the bar seemed to freeze; no one spoke for a long time.

 

Until a cry broke the silence—

 

“Hiss, that’s so sour!”

 

That shout forcibly yanked Xin Rong out of his drifting thoughts. Looking up, he saw Kahn holding half a strawberry with a distorted expression.

 

Only then did Xin Rong notice a few strawberries lying sparsely in the fruit platter on the table.

 

Pale pink in color and small in size, they were completely different from the massive, ripened fruits found on the market.

 

His heart skipped a beat. Almost instinctively, Xin Rong picked one up and put it to his lips.

 

After a brief daze, Xin Rong looked up and asked anxiously: “Wh-where did these come from?”

 

Kahn hadn’t recovered from the sourness yet, hissing and gasping through gritted teeth: “When I arrived this morning, I happened to run into Jing Yue at the door. He was standing by the trash can, holding a basket of strawberries. He looked like he wanted to throw them away but hadn’t moved. I asked him why he wouldn’t eat them, and he said he didn’t like them. I thought it’d be a waste to throw them out, so I suggested he give them to me. He seemed to be in a bad mood, he just shoved the basket at me and left.”

 

At this point, he shook his head in regret: “If I’d known they were this sour, I wouldn’t have been so greedy for a bargain. I really brought this on myself.”

 

Xin Rong didn’t respond, he simply pinched another strawberry and slowly placed it in his mouth.

 

The sweet and sour flavor blossomed on the tip of his tongue. Even after some time had passed, that crisp fragrance of morning dew was still clearly discernible.

 

Only wild strawberries from high mountains would have this texture.

 

Seeing him eat two strawberries in a row without changing his expression, Kahn was deeply impressed by his tolerance for sourness. He simply suggested: “I can’t eat them. Why don’t you take this basket of strawberries back with you?”

 

Carrying the whole basket of wild strawberries, Xin Rong returned to the lounge and sat in the chair in a daze, not moving for a long time.

 

Until at a certain moment, he seemed to be struck by something, realizing one thing.

 

Beneath him, it was soft.

 

The first time he came to Jing Yue’s lounge, he had casually complained that the chair was too hard and hurt his butt.

 

And now, every chair was covered with a soft cushion.

 

Xin Rong tried hard to remember, but he couldn’t recall when these cushions had appeared.

 

Sitting on the soft cushion, Xin Rong ate the strawberries one by one, but the gloom in his heart grew heavier.

 

He curled his body up, leaning against the back of the chair, shrinking into a tiny ball. He asked in a low voice in his mind: “Little Coal Ball, why do you think… he went to pick strawberries for me?”

 

050 could detect that the Host’s mood was a bit low. He really wanted to give an answer that could comfort him, but this question was beyond his capability; he couldn’t answer it.

 

There were no mountains nearby at all. Xin Rong didn’t know exactly how far Jing Yue had to run to pick these strawberries.

 

He had to be back at the arena to work early in the morning, so when did he go pick them?

 

In the middle of the night?

 

“Since he picked them, why didn’t he give them to me?” Xin Rong asked himself.

 

He’d rather throw them away, rather give them to others… than give them to him.

 

050 remained silent.

 

These questions were getting trickier by the second.

 

Then, Xin Rong asked: “How many gold coins have we earned in total?”

 

Finally getting a question he could answer, 050 perked up and immediately opened the panel to check: “Hmm, since starting the Infinite Mode, we have earned a total of 13,728 gold coins.”

 

“13,728,” Xin Rong repeated to himself. “That’s enough.”

 

050 was stunned, asking tentatively: “Host, do you not want to continue?”

 

After a long pause, Xin Rong lowered his eyes, hugged his knees, and spoke in a voice so quiet it was almost inaudible: “I don’t want to bully him anymore.”

 

Since flipping through that photo album, Xin Rong realized with absolute clarity that Jing Yue was a person.

 

A living, breathing person with flesh and blood.

 

His life wasn’t a string of cold data, and his pain wasn’t a plot point set by a system.

 

All the suffering he had experienced was real and tragic, enough to slowly crush a high-spirited boy, grinding him into the gloomy, violent person at odds with the whole world that he was today.

 

Xin Rong could no longer deceive himself into treating Jing Yue as an emotionless tool, a mission target for him to shear gold coins from.

 

But he couldn’t completely stop his pace either.

 

He had his own mission, a revenge he had to complete.

 

But besides that…

 

He didn’t want to cause any more harm to Jing Yue.

 

Jing Yue’s ankles were swollen and itchy from being bitten by unknown insects in the mountain forest. During training, he had been absent-minded with incredibly low efficiency, so he simply returned to the lounge early.

 

When he pushed open the door, Xin Rong was stuffing the water cup he usually used into a bag.

 

“You’re back.” hearing the movement, Xin Rong looked up and gave him a smile. “I made a supplement for you, drink it quickly.”

 

Seeing Jing Yue standing still, Xin Rong thought he was resisting again, so he softened his voice, almost as if he were acting spoiled: “Drink it, this is the last time I’ll make a supplement for you.”

 

Jing Yue’s hand paused in mid-air, his brow furrowing slightly.

 

“I’ve thought about it carefully.” Xin Rong’s expression was serious. “You aren’t willing to take an apprentice. Me hanging around you will only cause you trouble. I also always lose my temper at you for no reason… I really am a very bad person.”

 

Jing Yue’s lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he was interrupted by Xin Rong: “So, I’ve decided to stop bothering you.”

 

Jing Yue’s gaze landed on the packed luggage.

 

Xin Rong is… leaving?

 

Good.

 

This is for the best.

 

With him staying here, he could never be at ease.

 

The arena was a mix of all sorts of people, who knew how many pairs of ill-intentioned eyes were staring at him? Not to mention the environment here was so harsh he couldn’t even get a decent meal.

 

It truly wasn’t a place where he should stay.

 

Liking someone like himself and being entangled with him was clearly not a wise choice for the youth.

 

Leaving could be considered returning to the right track.

 

If Jing Yue were rational enough, he should remain silent and let everything end here.

 

But for some reason, seeing Xin Rong turn to leave, his chest felt blocked as if by a tangled mess.

 

Ultimately, he still called out to him on impulse.

 

“Actually,” Jing Yue hung his head, a surge of bitterness rising from his heart, following his blood straight to his throat, making his voice dry, “after you leave the arena, I can also—”

 

Can also what?

 

Go find him?

 

Or have him come find himself?

 

Jing Yue discovered he simply didn’t know how to finish that sentence.

 

A self-mocking smile appeared at the corner of his mouth: …And what could you possibly give him?

 

“Leave the arena?” Xin Rong frowned at this moment, looking bewildered. “I’m not leaving.”

 

Jing Yue was stunned. Before his brain could react, he heard a greasy voice coming from the door.

 

“Is your stuff packed? Hurry up, I’m going to pass on my secret techniques to you right now.”

 

Andy walked in swaggering, a discomforting smile on his face.

 

In an instant, Jing Yue felt a “buzz” in his head. A bomb exploded, and fury swept through his entire body, nearly bursting his chest.

 

His gaze was nailed to Andy, the dangerous coldness in the depths of his eyes condensing into ice blades.

 

However, Xin Rong was completely oblivious to his abnormality, responding eagerly to Andy: “I’m coming right now!”

 

Then, he turned his head and looked at Jing Yue.

 

“I’ll be Andy’s apprentice from now on.”

 

Xin Rong met his eyes, his pitch-black eyes clear to the bottom, a considerate smile spreading like ripples.

 

“Train in peace. I won’t come to bother you anymore.”