The Cannon Fodder Became the Empire's Beloved Omega - Chapter 48

A sudden sensation of weightlessness washed over Yu Ruan, who froze for a moment as a thought flashed through his mind, he’d been tricked!

As expected, the last item wasn’t so easy to obtain.

Gu Yu swiftly leaped over the collapsing floor, stepping on shattered stones as he lunged toward Yu Ruan. He grabbed Yu Ruan’s hand, yanking him forcefully into his arms and holding him tightly. Before they hit the ground, he used the slope’s momentum to roll, and both of them tumbled into the room beneath the floor.

“Holy shit!”

The light screen in front of them went black, the image instantly falling into silence as the red dots representing the two disappeared into the fog. Cheng Mu shot up from his chair, exclaiming in disbelief, “Who designed this level? There’s even something like this?? Are they insane?!”

Those around him were equally stunned. Someone with quick reflexes immediately flipped through the competition manual and shook their head gravely. “It’s not mentioned in the manual.”

“So it’s a hidden level?”

“It doesn’t say that either.”

“Then quickly activate the emergency permissions! Halt the competition immediately and get them out of there!”

Everyone hurried to try. After a moment, they all shook their heads in frustration. “This hidden level is set so that once the process begins, it can only be exited by solving the level. We can’t forcibly cut it off from here.”

“…” Cheng Mu was on the verge of losing his mind.

The empire’s current and former heirs were now trapped in a hidden level designed by who-knows-who, and there was no way to extract them. If this got out, even he wouldn’t believe he had nothing to do with it!

“What about the other teams? Has anyone else reached this point?”

“Not yet,” someone else choked out. “The two Highnesses progressed too quickly. The main group is still concentrated in the sewers. Only the team led by the Guild Leader has reached the castle gates and is about to enter.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Switch to their feed now!”

Dust filled the air.

Yu Ruan rubbed his face and stood up. Beneath his palm was a thick carpet, it seemed the competition organizers had at least some conscience, refraining from designing a trap that could outright kill someone.

He coughed a couple of times, feeling his throat and nose clogged with thick dust, making it hard to breathe. Once the coughing subsided, he instinctively turned to check on Gu Yu.

The other had shielded him from most of the impact. The fall wasn’t short, and even with the competition’s data adjustments, Yu Ruan was worried Gu Yu might have suffered serious injuries.

He gently patted the Alpha lying beside him with closed eyes, careful not to cause any pain, and tentatively called out, “Gu Yu, Gu Yu?”

After several seconds, Yu Ruan saw Gu Yu’s thick eyelashes flutter slightly. His brows furrowed, and he gritted his teeth, letting out a faint, muffled groan through his nose. Yu Ruan quickly moved to support him, pulling Gu Yu into his arms. “How are you? Are you okay?”

For a moment, the breathing beside his ear grew heavier. The Alpha in his arms slowly opened his eyes, his dark blue pupils seeming dazed for a second before quickly regaining clarity.

Gu Yu took a deep breath, propping himself up, his voice slightly hoarse. “I’m fine.”

His lips were pale, and his complexion looked terrible clearly not in good condition.

Yu Ruan felt a wave of guilt wash over him. “I’m sorry. If I had been more careful, I wouldn’t have dragged you into this. I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.”

“This has nothing to do with you.” Gu Yu’s voice returned to calm as he tore open the sealed first-aid kit. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s the design team behind this level. Don’t take it to heart.”

“But,” Yu Ruan wanted to say more.

Gu Yu lowered his gaze without responding, directly ripping open the sleeve near his forearm. Only then did Yu Ruan notice that the other’s originally smooth, fair forearm was now scraped red over a large area, with faint traces of bleeding. He quickly snatched the first-aid kit and unscrewed the spray bottle: “Let me help you with this, don’t move for now.”

“Mhm.”

Yu Ruan aimed the nozzle at the injured area on his forearm, carefully applying an even layer of recovery spray. Then he tore open the bandage, gently placed it over the wound, meticulously wrapped it around, and tied a neat bow at the end.

“Done.” Yu Ruan said somewhat sheepishly, “I’m not very skilled, so this will have to do for now. We can have a doctor properly treat the rest after we get out.”

Gu Yu’s eyelashes fluttered slightly as he looked down at the expertly tied bow at the end. After a long moment, he said slowly, “No.”

“?” Yu Ruan looked somewhat confused.

“Your bandaging technique is very good,” he said calmly. “Better than mine.” “Maybe it’s because I’ve had more practice with this before,” Yu Ruan replied awkwardly. “I’m glad you don’t mind.”

Back when he was still in Kenan, his life had been quite impoverished, juggling multiple jobs with no time to visit hospitals for minor injuries. So he’d learned to handle small wounds himself, leading to his current proficiency.

But these were things from long ago, and Yu Ruan didn’t particularly want to bring them up, so he glossed over it.

Hearing these ambiguous words, something seemed to stir in Gu Yu’s heart. He remained silent, just staring at the bandage on his forearm, not speaking for a long while.

Frequent practice with this.

Was it from helping others? And who exactly did he help?

Thinking carefully, the Omega beside him hadn’t had many close friends in the past. He always seemed busy running around, with no energy to spare for such matters. Among the few he was relatively close with, there seemed to be that Beta named Yu Fei.

A Beta.

His train of thought stopped there by force of will. Gu Yu withdrew his hand, gave a faint “Mmm,” and then asked, “Can you access your light brain?”

After a moment’s pause, Yu Ruan nodded. “What’s wrong? Is something the matter?”

“Where have we fallen to now?”

“The map can’t display our current location,” Yu Ruan glanced at the map. “We must have entered a hidden level – the entire map has become fogged. We can’t see the strategy status outside either. It seems like we’re the only ones in this entire area, and the distress button is grayed out too.”

Hearing the word “we” from Yu Ruan’s mouth, Gu Yu’s mood subtly improved. Scanning the dark hall’s situation, he pulled Yu Ruan up and said quietly, “Let’s go check the situation outside first.”

Yu Ruan gave a slight nod, the restless anxiety that had been swirling in his heart suddenly and mysteriously soothed. He somewhat awkwardly released the hand that had been offered to him and softly said, “Thank you.”

The two then walked together toward the only door in the dark hall.

This underground chamber felt less like a castle basement and more like a banquet hall where high-society nobles gathered for revelry. The carpet beneath their feet was soft and thick, the stone walls were adorned with deep crimson wallpaper, and the pillars were carved with intricate, ornate designs.

In the distance, the edges of the hall’s door were traced with dark golden patterns, exuding an understated luxury.

As they approached, the tightly shut door emitted a creaking sound and swung open on its own.

Before them stretched a dimly lit corridor.

The hallway was deep, with a wall lamp burning faintly on either side, casting a murky glow. The flickering flames made the crimson wallpaper appear even darker, like congealed blood.

Staring down the long corridor, Yu Ruan felt a twinge of unease. This time, he absolutely did not dare to take the initiative to test the waters again. Unable to resist, he turned his gaze to the person beside him and asked, “Should we go in?”

“Mm,” Gu Yu responded indifferently, then added, “Let’s give it a try. We don’t have any other options for now anyway.”

Yu Ruan was somewhat puzzled.

“What just happened could be considered an emergency situation. In principle, the competition should have been interrupted, and the process forcibly terminated,” Gu Yu explained. “But we haven’t received any communication from Cheng Mu, which means he can’t reach us for now either.”

“So that means?”

“Until they figure out a way to end the game, we’re on our own,” Gu Yu said. “Rather than waiting around for rescue, it’s better to come out and assess the situation.”

Yu Ruan finally understood.

No wonder his terminal zone had turned into a foggy mess, with even the emergency call function gone. He had initially thought it was a special setting for this particular stage. But now, it seemed even the competition organizers couldn’t intervene.

To be honest, he was very worried about Gu Yu’s injuries.

Falling from such a height, it was hard to tell just from the outside how badly the other was hurt. He had been counting on the competition organizers sending rescue soon, but given the current circumstances, it seemed they would have to wait quite a while.

No matter how resilient an Alpha’s physique was, it couldn’t withstand being dragged out like this.

Guilt threatened to overwhelm him.

Just then, Yu Ruan noticed a hand appearing in front of him slender, pale, and perfectly proportioned. Its owner was looking at him calmly, his expression detached. “If you’re scared, you can hold my hand.”

Hearing those familiar words, Yu Ruan felt both touched and a little amused. He tried to suppress his expression, forcing himself to appear more serious, then hooked his hand with Gu Yu’s and whispered, “It’s not that I’m scared.”

Gu Yu slowly turned his head, his eyes questioning the meaning behind those words.

“I’m just worried about you,” Yu Ruan said, lowering his head in slight embarrassment. “I’m afraid you’ll lie to me not tell me the truth and try to play the hero on your own.”

He paused, carefully choosing his words, then hurriedly added, “I’m not saying you’re weak! I’m just worried you’ll tough it out without saying anything. Please don’t misunderstand!”

Gu Yu’s dark blue eyes shifted, silently staring at Yu Ruan, his gaze flickering slightly. He seemed to be pondering something, then after a few seconds, said, “If I can’t hold on anymore, I’ll tell you.”

Without waiting for Yu Ruan to respond, he tightened his grip on Yu Ruan’s hand and led him forward.

A warm heat spread from his fingertips, making Yu Ruan blush for a moment. Suppressing the flush on his face, he followed Gu Yu’s steps, walking deeper into the corridor.

The observation room was in a state of chaos and panic.

“Haven’t we switched to emergency control yet?!” Cheng Mu glanced at the time, unable to hide his frustration. “It’s already been fifteen minutes?!”

The person he questioned shook their head helplessly.

Seeing this, Cheng Mu gritted his teeth. After a moment of deep thought, he turned to the person beside him and said, “Report the situation and notify the palace.”

The two of them came to a halt at the end of the corridor.

Before them stood two stone doors that stretched all the way to the ceiling, firmly locked and impossible to open by human strength. In front of the doors was a stone pedestal, entirely dark gray in color. At the lower right corner of its surface was a rotating wheel, beneath which a line of small characters was engraved:

“You thought you chose fate, but little did you know, fate chose you.”

Blinking in confusion, Yu Ruan stared intently at the pedestal. Its design appeared ancient and rustic, yet embedded in the center of its surface was a small LCD screen, about the size of a card, which looked strikingly out of place. He instinctively turned to the person beside him and asked, “Should we give it a spin?”

“Huh?”

“It looks a lot like a gacha machine,” Yu Ruan said, scratching his nose sheepishly. He couldn’t really be blamed for thinking that the sun, moon, and star patterns carved on the surface bore an uncanny resemblance to the pay-to-win mobile games from his past life.

Since they had already reached a dead end, there was no harm in giving it a try.

Gu Yu didn’t object. After a brief pause, he asked, “Will you spin it, or should I?”

Yu Ruan thought for a moment. “How about rock-paper-scissors?”

Gu Yu glanced at him and extended his hand, seemingly agreeing. Yu Ruan did the same, locking eyes with him as they began the countdown in unison: three, two, one.

The moment the countdown ended, both of them made their moves.

Yu Ruan looked down rock versus scissors. Gu Yu had won.

He took a step back, making room for the other. Gu Yu reached out and gripped the wheel. A grating sound of gears turning echoed through the air, and the dim screen suddenly lit up, gradually shifting from darkness to reveal a mysterious card adorned with a massive **.

A sphinx wielding a blade descended from the clouds, the jackal-headed god stood inverted atop the **, and a golden serpent coiled its way along a rugged path. As the card’s design grew clearer, the sound of collapsing structures echoed from the distance. Above it, a line of inverted text appeared: “Wheel of Fortune.”

The Wheel of Fortune!

Yu Ruan’s mind went blank the moment he saw those words. Before he could process what was happening, the deafening roar of collapse surged toward them. The lock on the stone doors suddenly sprang open. With a furrowed brow, Gu Yu kicked the doors open, grabbed Yu Ruan, and leaped down the steps.

The path they had taken moments earlier instantly crumbled into a pile of rubble. Broken bricks slid down the stone steps, stirring up clouds of dust. Yu Ruan stared blankly at the debris, only then realizing how close they had come to disaster, and a wave of relief washed over him.

That was close.

The surroundings grew dim, and in the deep, silent secret passage, only the flickering flame of a dying candle provided any light. The acrid scent of melted wax mingled with a faint sweetness, creating an oddly peculiar aroma in the confined space.

The air seemed to stagnate, growing thin and heavy. Yu Ruan took a deep breath, his heart pounding wildly. Unable to contain his anxiety, he turned to Gu Yu and said in a tense voice, “Thank you.”

The card they had just drawn was likely the Wheel of Fortune from the Tarot deck. Yu Ruan wasn’t deeply familiar with it, but he vaguely remembered that each card had upright and reversed positions, each representing different meanings. Unfortunately, the two of them had drawn a reversed card, so encountering such a situation seemed rather inevitable.

If anything, he was more concerned about what would happen next.

After all, in his impression, the Wheel of Fortune had always been a rather ambiguous card, carrying a multitude of possibilities. If its appearance was a hint about the challenges in the upcoming stages, then the trials ahead were bound to be anything but easy.

A heavy breathing sound reached his ears. Yu Ruan waited patiently for a while. After what felt like an eternity, the Alpha holding him tightly finally responded in a low, hoarse voice, “Mm.”

Yu Ruan froze for a moment, inexplicably sensing something amiss in that reply. He noticed the gradually intensifying scent of lime in the air and called out the other’s name with concern, asking, “How are you? Are you okay?”

Gu Yu didn’t answer, but the arm wrapped around Yu Ruan’s side tightened abruptly. In the hallway, the other’s unique pheromones began to grow chaotic. It seemed as though he was struggling to restrain something, and he suddenly pushed Yu Ruan away, bracing himself against the wall as he stood up. “I’m fine.”

How could this possibly look like he was fine?!

Worried, Yu Ruan watched him and tried to move closer. But the other recoiled as if facing a ferocious beast, taking several steps back. Gu Yu’s brow was tightly furrowed, his lips pressed so hard they turned pale, and his dark blue eyes seemed to be brewing with something intense.

He took a deep breath, his dark eyelashes trembling slightly. His voice was low and hoarse, filled with a forced calm: “Wait here for me. Don’t follow. I’ll come back for you later.”

Without waiting for Yu Ruan’s response, he turned and strode away hurriedly into the distance. Yu Ruan stared blankly at his rigidly straight back, as if something suddenly clicked in his mind.

Could it be that Gu Yu was.

Before Yu Ruan could fully process the thought, a dull thud echoed from afar. The figure in his vision was half-kneeling against the wall, and Yu Ruan’s heart clenched. He rushed over anxiously, calling out, “Gu Yu?!”

“Don’t come closer.” A cold voice drifted over, stopping him in his tracks. “Don’t worry about me.”

“…” Yu Ruan fell silent for a moment, his lips pressed together, a complex mix of emotions swirling inside him. After hesitating briefly, he asked softly, “Do you need an inhibitor?”

The sound of breathing suddenly became starkly clear. The other’s movements stiffened slightly, and he lowered his gaze in silence. It felt like an eternity had passed before he finally closed his eyes briefly and replied in an almost inaudible voice, “Mm.”

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