What Should I Do If My Ex-Girlfriend's Pheromones Smell Too Good? - Chapter 51

Chapter 51: Channel

The signal tower was the first place to fall. The guards originally stationed here had almost no chance of survival—unless they had retreated into the top-floor machine room.

If that were the case, the survivors in the machine room would definitely not miss the chance to activate the backup signal source to call for outside help.

Under the current circumstances, forcibly prying the lock open was clearly unrealistic.

Shu Qiong turned, raising her cannon barrel to fire a series of shots. Her entry into the battle significantly reduced the pressure on Yan Xiangyu. Together, the two retreated toward the end of the corridor, moving away from the stairs.

Fighting as they retreated, they searched every inch of this half of the corridor, leaving no crevice or corner unchecked. Unfortunately, there were no human remains to be found.

Shu Qiong couldn’t help but turn her gaze toward the other half of the corridor near the stairs.

That area was already packed tight by the swarming Zerg. Using standard “bug sea” tactics, the surging tide of insects attempted to grind the two women down and kill them right there. It was a sight that brought a unique kind of psychological pressure and visual impact.

Shu Qiong frowned at the sight. Without much hesitation, she pulled off her last remaining finger-type probe. Muttering a “damn it,” she resolutely pushed her arm’s auxiliary thrusters to the maximum and swung her arm, hurling the “finger” into the mass of the Zerg tide.

Yan Xiangyu naturally took over the task of clearing the surrounding insects, ensuring they wouldn’t interfere with Shu Qiong’s actions.

The light sound of the finger probe hitting the floor was completely drowned out by the noise of battle. Shu Qiong controlled it remotely, making it twist and crawl like a worm covered in a mechanical exoskeleton, flexibly weaving along the corners of the walls.

The probe transmitted everything it saw back to the vision window in front of Shu Qiong. Most of the images were chaotic and messy because Zerg would frequently bump into or step on the probe, causing the screen to tilt or the device to be kicked elsewhere.

After tumbling a few times, the probe undauntedly found a new direction to investigate. Finally, in a corner near the turn of the stairs, Shu Qiong spotted a mangled human corpse.

The victim’s clothes and appearance were indistinguishable; the body was a bloody mess, sleeping silently and coldly in the darkness. The probe almost missed it, but Shu Qiong’s sharp eyes caught a tiny, unusual metallic reflection. She immediately maneuvered the finger to crawl toward it with difficulty.

As it got closer, she realized the reflection came from a silver-blue medal, hanging askew on the deceased’s chest, marked with clear, dried blackish-red handprints.

Shu Qiong didn’t have time to identify what honor or rank the medal represented. She quickly manipulated the finger to scan the body up and down, finally capturing a faint electromagnetic induction.

“The keycard!” Shu Qiong exclaimed excitedly. “I found the key!”

Yan Xiangyu’s slight panting came through the channel. After a second, she replied, “Good.”

Shu Qiong turned her head and was momentarily stunned by the scene before her. While she had been focused on the probe, Yan Xiangyu had been slaying insects. The Zerg corpses piled at their feet were all decapitated with clean, decisive cuts—one hit, one kill. Her efficiency was terrifying.

It was undeniable: Yan Xiangyu was a natural-born warrior, a reliable protector.

However, Yan Xiangyu didn’t seem to think this was something worth special mention. She said calmly, “I’ll go get it.”

Shu Qiong opened her mouth, adjusting the heavy weaponry on her shoulder. “I’ll clear the way for you.”

The finger probe could move, but it couldn’t carry items. Shu Qiong had it search through several pockets until she finally found the location of the card. “Left chest, second pocket.”

She mentioned it briefly and turned to increase her firepower, clearing a clean circle around them for Yan Xiangyu to maneuver.

As soon as she finished speaking, Yan Xiangyu strode forward. As her speed peaked, she bent her knees and leaped, launching herself several meters high at an ingenious angle. Her arms firmly grasped a crossbar protruding from the ceiling.

The scene looked familiar, but Yan Xiangyu was far more skilled now than she had been in the past. She controlled her mech, Standby, with ease, swinging her legs to kick away several green-eyed Zerg that tried to jump after her. Then, her arms exerted force, pulling her body forward into a stretching leap.

Shu Qiong’s eyelids twitched; she felt like her heart was about to leap out of her throat. Her shoulder cannons fired with precision, the hot air currents sweeping out and blowing away large clusters of insects that were nearly submerging Yan Xiangyu.

…Did Yan Xiangyu really trust her this much?

Shu Qiong didn’t dare be careless. The cannons on her shoulders and arms extended simultaneously, clearing a narrow path straight to the destination. However, as soon as a space was cleared, a steady stream of new insects filled the gap. They came in wave after wave, seemingly endless.

She had no other thoughts in her mind, only the mechanical and continuous firing of her weapons. Her expression grew increasingly cold, not daring to allow a single oversight.

Finally, Yan Xiangyu reached the guard’s corpse by stepping over the foul-smelling sea of insects. She reached into the left chest pocket with precision, grasping both the small black square card and the finger probe in her palm, stowing them away carefully.

Shu Qiong saw this through the probe’s perspective but did not relax. Her hands didn’t slow down as she blew up two insects that were about to spit corrosive slime at Yan Xiangyu’s back.

“Got it.”

Yan Xiangyu’s voice came through the private channel. Her breathing was a bit heavy but steady. Having said that, she repeated her earlier maneuvers and nimbly swung back, making Shu Qiong’s heart hang in her throat once more.

Only when Yan Xiangyu returned to her side completely unharmed and placed the hard, black keycard into her hand did Shu Qiong finally breathe a sigh of relief.

With a click, she easily reattached the finger probe to her right hand, flexed her knuckles, and immediately swiped the keycard against the lock sensor.

Two short “beeps” sounded, and a glowing green light appeared on the door. The machine room was finally open. The two of them slipped inside one after the other, slamming the door shut with a heavy thud.

As soon as the room detected entry, the lights turned on automatically, flooding the interior with bright light. Shu Qiong reflexively closed her eyes, unable to adapt to the sudden brightness.

The space inside the machine room was limited, making it inconvenient for mechs to move. Yan Xiangyu was the first to hop out of her cockpit, glancing at the door. “There’s a backup power supply here, but I don’t know how long it will last.”

Shu Qiong nodded and followed suit, jumping down from her mech. She found the console and, following the instructions given by Instructor Old Chen on the way there, tentatively tried to activate the backup signal source.

She entered the password. Shu Qiong wiped her sweaty palms on her pants and typed in a string of characters. A prompt immediately popped up, asking if she wanted to turn on the backup signal. She checked “Yes” without hesitation and watched a blue progress bar move forward at a steady pace.

Shu Qiong couldn’t help but feel anxious. She tapped her wristband and asked with a frown, “Is there a signal yet?”

After two seconds, Yan Xiangyu suddenly spoke: “It’s back!”

Shu Qiong quickly turned and climbed back into the cockpit of Xinghai. Sure enough, she heard the long-lost, slightly chaotic sounds of the public channel. She could distinguish several familiar voices—some were cheering with joy, others were concernedly asking if she and Yan Xiangyu were safe.

Shu Qiong’s tense nerves finally relaxed. She briefly explained the situation at the signal tower and ended with, “Yan Xiangyu and I are both fine.”

The tone of the head instructor staying at the base was also relieved. “We are already trying to communicate with headquarters. Don’t head back yet. Stay hidden in the machine room and don’t come out, understood?”

Shu Qiong acknowledged the order. The building materials of the signal tower were very strong, and the machine room door was locked tight; she and Yan Xiangyu were safe for the time being.

While Shu Qiong was reporting their safety to everyone, Yan Xiangyu searched the entire room and found a small medical kit, two unopened bottles of water, and a row of concentrated nutrient solution in a corner. She brought these useful supplies to Shu Qiong to check and then prepared to climb back into her own cockpit.

To be safe, they decided to stay inside their mechs to avoid missing any notifications on the public channel.

Shu Qiong poked her head out and said, “Turn off your Standby to save energy. Come to my place, let’s squeeze in together. The cockpit should be able to fit us both.”

Yan Xiangyu paused, then closed her half-opened cockpit door without hesitation. She turned around gracefully, climbed into Xinghai, and even helped Shu Qiong seal the cockpit tight.

Shu Qiong: “…”

You didn’t really have to lock the door, though?

The space in the cockpit was narrow and cramped. With two people squeezed into one seat, the temperature of the air inside the cockpit rose significantly.

Yan Xiangyu looked at Shu Qiong’s cheeks and asked knowingly, “Are you hot? Doesn’t Xinghai have air conditioning?”

Shu Qiong gave a dry laugh, feeling a bit of regret. “Is it too crowded for you?”

Yan Xiangyu curled her long legs, shaking her head without any sign of discomfort. “Not crowded. It’s quite nice.” She had a trace of a smile on her face as she asked back, “What does Xiao Qiong think?”

Shu Qiong laughed, saying it wasn’t crowded at all. Then she spread her legs wide, her left leg arrogantly stretching out and resting on Yan Xiangyu’s right knee. She put on a serious, “don’t-mess-with-me” boss persona, looking straight ahead with her back stiff.

Yan Xiangyu glanced at her and teased, “Or you could just sit on my lap…”

“Cough, cough-cough!”

A series of choking coughs rang out in both of their ears simultaneously.

Shu Qiong’s head snapped around, and she instantly retracted her limbs, sitting properly. She had almost forgotten—the public channel was still open!

Chang Xichun: “Wow, wow, wow.”

Qin Liang: “Oho!”

He Xuchou: “The junior students have such a good relationship.”

Jiang Guo: “Are you guys going ‘Yuri’ (playing for the same team)?”

“…”

The coughing was followed by irrepressible, muffled laughter, with the eldest Miss Jin’s voice being the most prominent. Shu Qiong heard her shouting without any filter: “What are you two doing! Everyone is listening, watch your boundaries!”

“Shut up!”

Shu Qiong glared fiercely at Yan Xiangyu while calling for an end to Jin Yan’s dirty thoughts. “Do you know what saving energy means? We are squeezing into one cockpit to save energy! It’s green, environmentally friendly, and sustainable!”

Yan Xiangyu looked innocent and mouthed silently: I didn’t know you had the public channel on. You invited me in.

Shu Qiong didn’t believe a word of it. Feeling exhausted, she leaned back and closed her eyes to rest, adopting a stance of “I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

After a while, she heard a rustling sound next to her and felt Yan Xiangyu moving. Shu Qiong opened her eyes alertly and saw Yan Xiangyu taking off her clothes, revealing the graceful contours and fair, clean skin beneath her slim-fit tank top.

She mouthed the question: What are you doing?

Yan Xiangyu answered unhurriedly: “The jacket is uncomfortable.”

Shu Qiong stared wide-eyed as the other finished taking off the jacket, leaned back just like her, and extended her arms, pulling Shu Qiong into her embrace.

Shu Qiong’s back stiffened as she silently questioned again: What are you doing!

Yan Xiangyu almost laughed out loud but kept a serious tone. “Sleeping.”

Shu Qiong watched her play dumb and blurted out with a slight tingle in her heart, “Is this how you sleep?”

Yan Xiangyu couldn’t hold back a low chuckle. “Mhm. It maximizes space utilization.”

The two of them kept their voices very low, but who would have thought that someone on the public channel would still have sharp ears.

Lin Mi commented with a “Heh”: “Fox-like seduction tactics.”

Yan Xiangyu raised an eyebrow, and for once, she didn’t immediately retort. Shu Qiong was surprised, wondering if the sun had risen from the west today since Yan Xiangyu didn’t seize the chance to trade insults.

Yan Xiangyu met Shu Qiong’s eyes, tightened her arm around her waist, and whispered like a soft murmur, “Xiao Qiong, it doesn’t matter how they see me. I only care what you think…”

Shu Qiong actually sensed a hint of subtle triumph in that.

On the other end of the channel, Lin Mi stopped even her “Heh”: “Sister, I don’t know how to say sweet words like she does. Will you dislike me?”

Shu Qiong gave a stunned “Uh.”

Yan Xiangyu answered calmly on her behalf: “Don’t worry. She definitely will.”

“…”