Transmigrated into a Redemption Novel as a Disciplinary Bug - Chapter 11

Having been among the insectoids for some time now, Carlos still couldn’t quite get used to the extra tail or rather, what should be called the tail hook.

The slender tail hook was entirely black, gleaming under the light like a meticulously crafted artwork by the Creator, utterly beautiful.

Yet, the male insectoid’s tail hook wasn’t merely decorative; quite the opposite, it served many purposes.

When a male insectoid marked a female, due to the size difference between them, it often required using the tail hook to pierce the female’s skin and inject a toxin similar to a muscle relaxant. This had no side effects but could relax the female’s body, also serving as a half-sedative.

Only then could the male insectoid proceed with what followed.

Apart from this preparatory function, the tail hook naturally had other uses. When Carlos studied insectoid anatomy earlier, he increasingly felt something was off.

The small tail hook seemed plain and unremarkable, yet its functions were so powerful, almost like a bug, seemingly designed specifically for those bedroom affairs.

Its actual effectiveness depended on the male insectoid’s psychic level. Males with stronger psychic levels would have vastly different tail hook effects. For instance, an F-level male would have little effect on an A-level female.

Carlos didn’t know his current psychic level; when forging his identity, he simply set it at a middling D-level.

He had asked the system about his psychic level, but after a long silence, it only replied: “Host, since you’ve taken over this persona, whatever level he had is yours now.”

Well, that was as helpful as saying nothing.

Now, he needed to use the tail hook to relax the female insectoid’s body and also help lower her temperature.

But using it risked exposing his identity.

Carlos looked at the female insectoid in his arms. Zelan’s white hair was soaked with sweat, strands clinging to his neck. Due to the fever, the female’s cheeks flushed unnaturally red, and his cold face seemed to have gained warmth.

The female insectoid’s face was scarred, covered with unhealed wounds and burn marks, hardly attractive at the moment—even somewhat grotesque.

Such a troublesome creature.

Carlos casually smoothed the female’s white hair, then mischievous, ruffled it again.

A decent insectoid shouldn’t be burned into a fool.

He glanced at the overhead surveillance camera, confirming that nothing could be captured from this angle, then continued his movements at the waist.

Carlos manipulated the small tail hook, slowly extending it toward the female insectoid in his arms. Still inexperienced and not very accurate, he had to proceed bit by bit.

The male insectoid’s tail hook could instantly soften a female’s body, yet it was itself fragile and sensitive. Even slight pain sensations were amplified manyfold; normally, it couldn’t be touched. If a female insectoid touched it without permission, it would be considered a grave disrespect.

As the tail hook touched the female’s body, a tingling sensation surged like electricity straight to Carlos’s head, even making his tailbone itch. Carlos, the theoretical combat master but novice with the tail hook, felt extremely uncomfortable.

The heart-shaped small hook slid upward along the female’s exposed skin, like a snake slowly approaching its prey. But this tail hook seemed to have its own consciousness, disobeying his control, clinging directly to the female’s body, even climbing onto her forearm.

Carlos reluctantly pulled the tail hook away, finally bringing it to the female insectoid’s neck.

The skin at the nape of his neck was pale and delicate, now covered in bruises, looking utterly pitiful.

This was the most convenient spot for the tail stinger to “take advantage of the weakness,” easily piercing the female insect’s skin and taking effect more quickly.

The slender tip pierced the female insect’s neck. Because the venom was injected too rapidly, the female insect’s body seemed unable to handle so much at once. A few drops of purple venom seeped out at the point of contact, mingling with the beads of blood that welled up from the female insect’s skin, slowly trickling down his snow-white neck.

There was an indescribable, ambiguous quality to it.

Zelan’s consciousness had been in a state of chaos, pain devouring his reason. But as a cool sensation spread across his neck, his awareness gradually returned.

Something was on his arm—cool, slippery, a bit itchy, and somewhat strange.

Then came a sharp sting at his neck.

Something had pierced his body.

The venom entered with unstoppable force. Zelan felt only a wave of dizziness.

Too much…

It couldn’t go on like this.

Zelan struggled to push away whatever was on his neck, but his body refused to obey. He couldn’t muster any strength, nor could he break free.

He could only wait like a lamb to the slaughter, silently enduring as the unknown substance fully entered his system.

But as the substance took effect—it wasn’t a truth serum, nor an aphrodisiac, nor some tormenting potion—a warm current gradually spread from his neck to his head and limbs. It was like a gentle rain, washing away the discomfort of tension and feverish heat.

What on earth was it? Zelan couldn’t guess.

Zelan had never been on a date with a male insect before. No matter how much theoretical knowledge he had, he had never experienced being injected with venom by a male insect’s tail stinger, so he couldn’t identify this strange sensation at all.

As the venom fully took effect, the convulsions wracking Zelan’s body ceased. His tightly furrowed brow relaxed, and his entire condition visibly improved.

“You…”

When Zelan regained his senses and opened his eyes, he found himself lying in the arms of another insect, with the enlarged face of the disciplinary officer right before him.

Carlos had never expected the venom to take effect so quickly. His tail stinger had only just separated from the female insect and was still swaying foolishly outside, like a cat’s tail, not yet retracted.

Good grief, this female insect had woken up far too quickly. It was practically an ambush!

In a panic, Carlos simply covered the female insect’s eyes with his palm.

Zelan: ?

The sudden darkness caught him off guard, and the words on the tip of his tongue were swallowed back.

What was this eccentric disciplinary officer trying to do? Was there something he wasn’t allowed to see?

Zelan wanted to confront the disciplinary officer, but his current position put him at a severe disadvantage.

He was still lying in the disciplinary officer’s arms.

For a military female insect, protecting one’s vital points at all times was the first lesson taught at the military academy.

He certainly wasn’t naive enough to think that the disciplinary officer had suddenly grown a conscience and wanted to give him a hug.

In this position, he was trapped completely. The disciplinary officer could strangle his neck, gouge out his eyes, or use some tool to destroy his reproductive cavity at any moment.

“Let go of me!”

Zelan grabbed Carlos’s wrist, intending to push him away.

“Wait, don’t move.”

Carlos pressed down on the female insect with one hand, using every ounce of strength he had. If the female insect hadn’t been weakened, he would have been thrown off in the first second.

He’d said to wait—couldn’t this female insect understand words?

“Keep moving, and I can’t guarantee your eyes will stay intact.”

Carlos was frantically coiling the small tail hook around his waist with his other hand. Operating one-handed was extremely difficult. If carrying the female insect earlier had been a three-star challenge, this was at least a four-star one now.

Zelan was not one to sit idly by and wait for death. He tightly gripped the guard insect’s hand, on the verge of breaking free from Carlos’s “clutches.”

His identity was about to be exposed in the blink of an eye.

“Mmph!”

The light before his eyes lasted only a moment before Zelan was plunged into darkness. A tremendous force from behind his head pressed his face firmly against the guard insect’s chest.

Zelan’s face was pressed tightly against Carlos’s pectoral muscles, his nose flattened and stuck firmly in place, making it difficult even to breathe.

Yet the muscle beneath his cheek felt different from what he had imagined—soft and elastic, completely unlike the hard, rock-like texture of a female insect.

The scent that reached his nostrils was neither the smell of blood nor the nauseating stench of sweat, but a faint, pleasant fragrance of lemon mixed with aftershave.

In this pitch-dark prison, it felt like falling into a small haystack of lemon blossoms—warm and intoxicating.

Zelan froze.

The one holding him down now was clearly the soon-to-be perpetrator, the executioner who intended to use him for practice. How could he possibly mistake this for an embrace? How could he have such an absurd thought?

Had he been locked up for so long that even his mind was starting to malfunction?

“Mmph…”

But the pressure was far too tight. Was the guard insect devising a new form of punishment? Did he intend to torture him by suffocation?

Amid the dizziness, Zelan even began to feel oxygen-deprived.

He was struggling to breathe!

“Let… mmph!”

In a race against time, Carlos finally managed to retract the unruly little tail hook, making sure to coil it even tighter.

Only then did he realize that the female insect in his arms was nearly suffocating, and he hurriedly loosened his grip.

The female insect, now able to breathe again, gasped heavily for air. With each inhale and exhale, glimpses of snow-white teeth and a pink tongue could be seen.

The female insect’s lips were dry and cracked, but the exposed tongue was moist and slick, almost resembling a small pink pudding.

It looked quite kissable. The thought suddenly crossed Carlos’s mind for no apparent reason.

“What did you inject me with just now?”

Zelan’s body remained half-slumped, leaning against Carlos’s chest. He had to pause for breath before finishing his sentence, but his words were cold and unyielding.

“Just a regular sedative. What else could it be?”

A smile played on Carlos’s lips, but it sent a chill down the spine of any insect who saw it. His hands never stopped moving.

Now that the female insect was out of danger, he still remembered his precarious situation regarding his out-of-character behavior. For the sake of his own life, he had to lock Zelan back up.

The female insect’s arms were hoisted high, like a dying angel. This time, however, Carlos deliberately loosened the chains slightly, allowing the female insect’s feet to just touch the ground, making it less uncomfortable.

“What exactly do you want? Why bother with all this roundabout nonsense?”

Hearing the word “sedative,” Zelan might have been momentarily surprised, but he wasn’t foolish enough to naively believe the guard insect had used it to save him.

He had a clear understanding of his situation. Whether it was the previous two guard insects or this new one, none of them would come to him without some ulterior motive.

His life here was as worthless as a blade of grass; the only reason he was kept alive was because he still had some use.

The suffering that was bound to come would arrive sooner or later.

“Hah, then stay put obediently. You’d better recover quickly these next two days.”

Carlos let out a light laugh, as if the life of a lowly slave meant nothing to him, fully embodying the demeanor of a sadistic overseer.

“Three days from now, in the arena, don’t spill your blood too quickly. That would be far too boring.”

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