What Should I Do If My Ex-Girlfriend's Pheromones Smell Too Good? - Chapter 54

Chapter 54: Emotional Scars

The demolition bomb countdown: twenty seconds.

As Shu Qiong turned, she was tripped up by an egg sac covered in mucus and nearly slipped. Fortunately, she pulled out her flamethrower tube in time. The high-temperature tongues of fire scorched the ground, deactivating the mucus and finally making the footing stable.

Many insects feared fire. Shu Qiong had discarded her heavy weapon racks but kept the flamethrower; currently, it seemed that choice was correct. With Yan Xiangyu clearing the path and Shu Qiong using the flamethrower to sear the ground, the two bolted forward.

Countdown: fourteen seconds.

The air was thick with the smell of burnt protein mixed with a strange, earthy stench. There were many Zerg blocking the way ahead, and wave after wave of newly hatched insects were catching up from behind. Shu Qiong and Yan Xiangyu had no strength left to turn back and engage them; they focused solely on moving forward.

Countdown: nine seconds.

Several insect soldiers with high, bulging abdomens suddenly gave up resisting and lay down right in Yan Xiangyu’s path. Standby couldn’t dodge in time and stepped right on them.

The two instantly saw the fat, bloated bellies of the half-human-tall insects explode. Familiar purple mucus poured out, mostly coating Standby’s left foot, while a smaller portion splashed high enough to hit the calf and knee.

Yan Xiangyu staggered. Looking down, she saw white smoke rising from the left foot of her mech, leaving a trail of liquefied, corroded footprints on the ground. She had no time or energy to worry about the leg; she shifted her weight to stabilize her center of gravity and slashed forward to cut down those blocking the way.

Shu Qiong tried using the flamethrower to bake the mucus-covered parts of the other mech, finding that the high heat slightly reduced the corrosiveness of the sludge. However, at the same time, because the outer shell of Standby’s calf had already been damaged by corrosion, the exposed non-heat-resistant internal components began to melt to a certain degree.

Combining the two effects, it was better not to roast it at all. Shu Qiong retracted the flamethrower and shifted her attention back to the front.

Countdown: five seconds.

They were already very close to the sixth-floor observation deck; victory was within sight. The sound of helicopter rotors spinning echoed from nearby. As Shu Qiong ducked and scrambled out, she grabbed the edge of the deck and leaped outward. Her left arm caught the tough rope ladder hanging down, while her right arm sabotaged the fuel block of the last flamethrower and hurled it forcefully behind Yan Xiangyu.

Yan Xiangyu didn’t dodge the object thrown toward her, even though it was emitting unsettling sparks. The corrosion on her mech’s left leg was severe, and the damaged shell had begun to affect the sensitivity of the coupling sensors. The leg thrusters had also failed, causing her speed to lag a half-beat behind Shu Qiong.

Without pausing, Yan Xiangyu pushed off with her right leg to leap from the deck, grabbing the rope ladder with her less-damaged arms. She twisted her body to look back.

Boom!

In less than a heartbeat, the flamethrower Shu Qiong had thrown exploded. The shockwave blew away several insects that were trying to leap up and attack Yan Xiangyu’s lower leg. The timing was perfect; by now, the helicopter was steadily gaining altitude, rapidly moving away from the signal tower. The small improvised bomb Shu Qiong had created on a whim had limited power, and the resulting force only caused the rope ladder to sway slightly.

Immediately following was a series of much louder, wider-reaching chain explosions.

The booms rose in succession. Scalding shockwaves vibrated outward, shattering the high-strength glass windows of several floors of nearby buildings, accompanied by flying Zerg limbs. Even though Shu Qiong had turned on the noise-reduction device inside the cockpit in advance, she still heard a violent rumbling that couldn’t be masked. The aftershocks lingered, making her eardrums vibrate even from a distance.

But she didn’t stop her climbing motion. Before long, the two had climbed into the helicopter one after another.

They stood firm and surveyed their surroundings. Though called a helicopter, it was vastly different from a standard passenger model—for instance, it had a much more spacious interior and a fuselage made of higher-strength bulletproof alloy.

Shu Qiong calmed her turbulent emotions, exchanged a look with Yan Xiangyu through their vision windows, and looked toward the cockpit at the same time. The middle-aged woman in the co-pilot seat clearly held a higher rank; she gave a few instructions to the pilot before turning back to walk toward them.

“Well done.”

She stood straight. Even though she was looking up at two mechs much taller than a human body, her every gesture exuded a convincing aura. It was the powerful self-confidence shown by those who hold authority. Her voice sounded slightly familiar; it was this same woman who had been directing Shu Qiong and the others on the channel.

Out of politeness, Shu Qiong and Yan Xiangyu hopped out of their mechs to speak with her face-to-face.

“Senior Lin,” Shu Qiong said after a moment of consideration.

She was surprised, not understanding why this senior, who had already transitioned to politics, would appear in a military rescue team and seemingly hold a leadership position. At the same time, Shu Qiong was a bit hesitant, not knowing in what capacity or rank Lin Yuan had come to the battlefield. Should she be called “Officer”? “Senior”? Regardless, calling her “Senior” couldn’t be wrong.

Lin Yuan was tall and slender, wearing a crisp, well-fitting dark uniform. Her brown hair was combed back meticulously. Her features were deep-set, and her deep blue eyes were like weathered, quiet lakes in a deserted forest—she was a female Beta who looked like she had a lot of stories and experience.

Lin Yuan first looked at Yan Xiangyu, giving her a small, approving nod: “An excellent soldier. You have a bright future.”

But her gaze soon bypassed Yan Xiangyu to focus intently on Shu Qiong, looking her up and down, from head to toe. Finally, she let out a sigh and patted Shu Qiong’s shoulder.

“Xiao Qiong, you’ve grown so tall.” Lin Yuan met Shu Qiong’s amber eyes, her tone carrying an unmaskable nostalgia. “You… you look so much like your mother.”

Shu Qiong pursed her lips: “Is that so?”

She had almost forgotten what Ms. Shu Ci looked like. This was a broad, conceptual forgetting. She certainly had photos of her mother, but the psychological fading of her mother’s image was as hard to stop as sand slipping through fingers. This fading of impressions was not something audio or video recordings could reverse.

“Yes.”

Lin Yuan had simply lost herself for a moment, her thoughts drifting toward an old friend, but she quickly regained her serious expression. She briefly introduced the current situation: “The III-97 demolition bombs you installed can severely wound the Broodmother, but they won’t kill it. However, this still greatly improved the situation. The strike team has successfully entered the signal tower, while other personnel are performing outer clearing missions.”

After a short pause, her professional tone softened slightly. “Don’t worry, we will take you to a safe location first; the other survivors are there. Victory will ultimately belong to the Alliance.”

Shu Qiong glanced at Lin Yuan and nodded. She actually had a blurry memory of this “Auntie Lin.” When Ms. Shu Ci used to take her to the Jin family’s house when she was little, she would occasionally encounter Lin Yuan. Her mother had said that Auntie Lin, Auntie Jin, and Auntie Fang were all very close friends.

However, Shu Qiong didn’t believe it at the time because Auntie Lin never came to visit her house; only Auntie Jin and Auntie Fang would come over to play. Ms. Shu Ci explained that it was because they had a small disagreement and Auntie Lin was sulking at her, but Auntie Lin was actually a very good person and the smartest one among them. Shu Qiong wouldn’t have it then, saying it was impossible because no one in the world could be smarter than her mother!

She wasn’t sure how that ended. The days after her mother passed away left memories in her mind that were always intermittent, appearing as fragments. She deepened the memories of things she liked and put things she didn’t like into a corner, covered with dust.

This Auntie Lin was one of those passersby with a blurry face in Shu Qiong’s childhood memories. Remembering this, Shu Qiong couldn’t help but steal a few more glances at Lin Yuan, finding it hard to connect the person before her with the figure in her memory. Their auras were completely different; the composure of a high-ranking figure Lin Yuan wore now was a world away from the cold, forced attitude of the past.

As she thought, she felt a familiar touch on her hand. Shu Qiong slowly turned her head and saw Yan Xiangyu giving a soft smile, squeezing her knuckles.

“Your mech was severely damaged in this operation.”

From the corner of her eye, Shu Qiong saw Standby parked nearby. A belated sense of having survived a disaster washed over her, and she gripped Yan Xiangyu’s hand back. Yan Xiangyu hummed in response, taking the other’s palm and playing with it, gently touching every small scar and thin callus as if she would never tire of looking at it.

Shu Qiong suddenly remembered something and looked up at Lin Yuan, who was staring at a light screen with a deep frown.

“Senior Lin, can the military reimburse the losses from this operation?” She kept glancing at her and Yan Xiangyu’s battle-damaged mechs, her eyes full of hints.

“…Yes.” Lin Yuan glanced at the two of them with their hands entwined and shoulders leaned together, her feelings complex. “Your initiative to go to the signal tower and activate the backup signal was very meaningful. Not only will the losses be reimbursed, but there should also be rewards afterward.”

Shu Qiong’s spirits lifted: “What rewards?”

Lin Yuan looked at her for a while: “That depends on the military’s decision. Perhaps medals of honor, perhaps a cash prize, perhaps…” She paused for quite a while, “…the opportunity for special recruitment into a Special Operations unit.”

The Special Operations units of the military only accepted the best of the best; anyone picked from them would be a person with brilliant talent. Every military academy student likely had a dream regarding this, as it was the top-tier offer they could touch after graduation.

Shu Qiong was no exception. Her heart stirred as she asked: “Senior, my mother was a member of a Special Operations unit before she retired and entered the research institute. What about you?”

She was too curious. This woman, who was equally talented in her youth, had graduated from the Allied Military Academy in the same class as Shu Ci, entered the military in the same year, and was a best friend; surely she wouldn’t have been a nobody in the military. Yet for some reason, she had later turned into a politician.

The Alliance Constitution had an absolute resistance to the entanglement of military and political powers, attempting to divide them at the root to create a system of mutual checks and balances. Of course, whether this regulation achieved its intended effect was another matter. Regardless, this meant that people climbing up from the military who wanted to transition to politics would face unprecedented rejection and resistance, and vice versa.

Shu Qiong sensed that her question wouldn’t anger Lin Yuan, so she asked. Lin Yuan stood leaning with her arms crossed. How could she not see through Shu Qiong’s little scheme? She simply said: “In the beginning, I was Shu Ci’s teammate.”

Shu Qiong waited for a long time but didn’t hear a follow-up. She couldn’t help but ask, “What about after?”

As a result, Lin Yuan’s face dropped as she tossed out: “Don’t ask, kid.”

“…” Shu Qiong was speechless. If she didn’t want to say it, she could just say so; what was with the condescension toward her age? Besides, she had been an adult for a long time; she could hardly be called a kid!

Yan Xiangyu looked at Lin Yuan thoughtfully: “Did you… leave because of emotional scars?”

Shu Qiong: “Huh?”

Lin Yuan gave a cold “Heh.” She wasn’t angry, only taking an extra look at Yan Xiangyu: “Something that anyone in the world could see, yet only the person involved couldn’t see it themselves.”