ISMW Chapter 4

Good question.

 

In any case, Yun Xunlan felt that this alpha definitely couldn’t be himself.

 

He told Jian Wenxi: [Yes, so I plan to simply select the top nine based on their combat assessment rankings after watching the selection livestream.]

 

Actually, if he decided this way, it wouldn’t matter whether he watched the selection livestream or not. But Yun Xunlan thought Yun Xunguang’s words had some merit.

 

After all, these were people he would be facing day and night. Even though he already knew that alphas in their susceptibility period would find other alphas displeasing, Yun Xunlan wanted to personally confirm just how displeasing he would find them, to mentally prepare himself. If he encountered someone particularly unbearable, he could eliminate them from consideration—otherwise, long-term face-to-face interaction would be torturous.

 

On the light brain, Jian Wenxi continued asking: [When is the guard selection livestream?]

 

[Yun Xunlan: Three days from now.]

 

Wasn’t that Yun Xunlan’s birthday?

 

So Yun Xunlan’s susceptibility period and birthday were coinciding? Jian Wenxi thought.

 

He asked further: [Then will your coming-of-age banquet be postponed?]

 

An alpha’s susceptibility period lasted three to five days. Regardless of the exact duration, Yun Xunlan’s coming-of-age banquet would have to be postponed—it couldn’t possibly be held during his susceptibility period.

 

[Yun Xunlan: Yes, postponed to seven days later. Will you come?]

 

Currently, the galaxy wasn’t unified, with various powers in a complex, chaotic state. Broadly speaking, they could be divided into three major forces: first, the Galactic Empire where they resided; second, the Corona Empire, which controlled one-third of the galaxy’s territories; and third, the Nebula Federation, formed by an alliance of various planetary states large and small.

 

These three powers stood in opposition to each other with comparable strength. As the Third Prince of the Galactic Empire, Yun Xunlan’s coming-of-age banquet naturally carried extraordinary diplomatic significance. The Corona Empire and Nebula Federation would certainly send diplomatic officials to attend and offer congratulations.

 

Jian Wenxi, an extreme anthropophobe, felt suffocated just imagining such a scene. Not to mention that he had recently experienced an attack at the crowded auction, making him even more reluctant to go to populated places!

 

So Jian Wenxi “politely declined”: [I won’t come. You know I’m introverted and don’t like crowded places. I’ll wish you a happy birthday in advance. Take care of your injury—I’ll come visit you after your susceptibility period ends.]

 

[Yun Xunlan: Alright. Thank you, Wenxi.]

 

Yun Xunlan indeed hoped to be happy on his birthday—if only the system could lighten his burden and make his daily survival tasks easier to complete, he would be very happy.

 

For instance, reducing the completion requirement for “collecting and recording 10,000 instances of text judged by the system as ‘insulting the host'” to 1,000 or even 100 instances. After all, previously recorded insults couldn’t be reused, and heaven knows how difficult it was to find 10,000 brand new insults every day.

 

So Yun Xunlan once again employed his old tactics to negotiate with the system: “Little Hermit, my birthday is coming up, and I’ve lost a hand. Couldn’t you be kind enough to let me read fewer of these negative comments?”

 

Surprisingly, the system was quite agreeable this time and readily consented: “Sure, I promise that on your birthday, I’ll turn a blind eye. You’ll only need to read 9,999 insults, and I’ll consider your task complete. Happy now?”

 

Yun Xunlan was silent for a few seconds: “…Delighted. My thanks to you.”

 

“Glad you’re happy,” the system blew him a kiss. “This is my birthday gift to you. May you continue to be this happy every day~”

 

Yun Xunlan: “…”

 

Yun Xunlan was so “happy” he couldn’t sleep.

 

In his insomnia, he first entered his susceptibility period, followed closely by his eighteenth birthday.

 

As soon as midnight struck, Yun Xunlan worried that he might not have much time during the day to find insults to complete his daily task since he would be watching the guard selection. Figuring he was already sleepless, he might as well stay awake, so he opened his light brain to prepare a new batch of “Bedtime Reading” material.

 

However, as soon as he clicked into the social media app, he was overwhelmed by an avalanche of birthday wishes.

 

Seeing this, the system clicked its tongue in amazement: “Who’s being so extravagant, buying up even the splash screen ads to display birthday wishes for you?”

 

“Not important,” Yun Xunlan calmly closed the splash screen greeting. “We’re not here for this.”

 

In his previous life, as the world’s foremost medical cultivator, he had treated countless practitioners over thousands of years. Whether words of praise or expressions of admiration, he had heard them all innumerable times—to the point of saturation, where no matter how much more he heard, they wouldn’t stir any ripples in his heart.

 

Now Yun Xunlan only wanted to look at his “Bedtime Reading” material.

 

However, this time, no matter how he changed his search terms, he couldn’t find a single comment from netizens insulting him—at least not on the four major interstellar social media apps.

 

The system asked: “What’s going on?”

 

Just as the system finished asking, Yun Xunlan’s light brain vibrated.

 

Jian Wenxi had sent him a message: [Yun Xunlan, I’ve been thinking carefully, and I’m truly sorry I can’t attend your birthday banquet, so I’ve prepared an extra birthday gift for you.]

 

[Yun Xunlan: Thank you. Are those the splash screen greetings? I saw them.]

 

[Jian Wenxi: Yes. I wish you happiness and joy every day in the future^ ^]

 

After ending his conversation with Jian Wenxi, Yun Xunlan put down his light brain and went to the window to light a cigarette.

 

Though what he was smoking was called a cigarette, it was more of a sedative. After all, it was specifically designed to stabilize the agitated emotions of alphas during their susceptibility periods. One puff would bring an immediate cooling sensation, dispersing all worldly desires.

 

But at this moment, as Yun Xunlan smoked, he felt his heart growing colder.

 

Looking at the tranquil night view outside the window, he said in a low, hoarse voice: “The birthday gifts you all have given me are truly one surprise after another.”

 

“What, you don’t like the one I gave you?” the system asked. “Then I won’t give it.”

 

Yun Xunlan said one thing while thinking another: “…I like it. I like it very much.”

 

The system asked again: “Then is it Jian Wenxi’s gift you don’t like?”

 

“Wenxi probably did more than just the splash screen greetings,” Yun Xunlan didn’t say whether he liked it or not, only that Jian Wenxi had good intentions. “He must have also banned some topics about insulting me online, afraid they would affect my mood if I saw them.”

 

The Jian Consortium held controlling stakes in all four major interstellar social media apps. It would be incredibly easy for Jian Wenxi to ban certain topics.

 

Yun Xunlan sighed: “He doesn’t know that not seeing them is what affects my mood.”

 

What Jian Wenxi knew even less was that Yun Xunlan needed to see these texts to complete his daily survival task.

 

After hearing this, the system also wanted to light a cigarette for Yun Xunlan and offered him advice: “Why don’t you stop searching for insults tonight and write your will instead?”

 

Yun Xunlan: “…”

 

“It’s not that serious. It’s not banned across the entire network. If worst comes to worst, I can search on other apps.”

 

Yun Xunlan extinguished the cigarette between his fingers and said after some thought: “Actually, this might be good. Many people have a contrarian psychology—the more you prevent them from insulting, the more they want to. After my birthday passes, I’ll ask Wenxi to lift the topic restrictions. They might insult me more viciously then, which would be beneficial for me without any harm.”

 

The system let out a long sigh: “Living with such uncertainty day to day… why not consider completing the second task instead?”

 

Yun Xunlan lay back on the bed, his posture serene, golden eyes gazing at the ceiling: “I’ve considered it.”

 

The two daily tasks issued by the system each had their advantages and disadvantages—one had no risk of exposure, while the other had simple completion conditions. He could choose to complete either task.

 

In his previous life without the internet, the first task was difficult to complete. Yun Xunlan survived by completing the second task because he could use magic to disguise himself without revealing his true identity and could teleport thousands of miles at any time.

 

In this life, his magic was gone, and he could no longer teleport physically. Disguising himself was still possible, but he usually had attendants and guards following him when he went out, making it difficult to complete the second task. Not to mention—

 

“If I can’t find someone to insult me face-to-face normally, how would I find someone on my birthday? Who would insult me face-to-face on my birthday?” Yun Xunlan asked the system rhetorically. “And after today, I might even have guards watching me while I sleep. Who would dare insult me under their noses?”

 

Did people really think the top warriors selected from the best of the best across the Galactic Empire were pushovers?

 

System: “…”

 

System: “Go to sleep. You can have anything in your dreams.”

 

Sleep, my ass.

 

Just thinking about having to rely on browsing the internet for insults, then having his light brain’s AI butler help organize them into e-books to meet the prerequisite condition of “from books” for the first task—doing this daily task until he died a second time—made Yun Xunlan even more unable to sleep.

 

At exactly nine o’clock the next morning, Ni Chun came to Yun Xunlan’s bedroom door and gently knocked three times: “Third Prince, the guard selection interview livestream is about to begin. Will you…”

 

Yun Xunlan, who hadn’t slept all night, was sitting at the low table by the floor-to-ceiling window, playing with his tea pet with his newly healed hand. Hearing this, he replied to Ni Chun: “Yes, I’ll watch it on time.”

 

He did indeed watch it on time.

 

—But he found every single alpha displeasing to the eye.

 

This “aversion” was an instinctive susceptibility period response encoded in all alpha genes.

 

Even though the hundred SS-level elite alpha warriors who had entered the royal guard selection interview stage were all impeccable in appearance, ability, and talent, Yun Xunlan still couldn’t generate any positive feelings toward them.

 

Especially since today’s livestream was presented as a holographic projection—almost indistinguishable from being there in person except for not being able to smell their pheromones—which gave Yun Xunlan an extreme sense of discomfort, as if his territory was being invaded by another alpha.

 

He only planned to select the top nine, but the interview order was randomized rather than arranged according to performance rankings.

 

Finally, after enduring the irritation of watching twenty-six alphas, Yun Xunlan at last saw an alpha who ranked in the top nine appear.

 

He was ranked second in overall performance, named Fu Yanxi, with red hair and brown eyes, sharp eyebrows and bright eyes. At first glance, he gave the impression of a hot-tempered, unruly troublemaker who would be difficult to control.

 

 

However, the personality he displayed was completely different from his appearance. Throughout the interview, he remained composed and calm, giving an impression of great reliability.

 

It wasn’t hard to imagine that even if he wasn’t selected for the royal guard this time and continued serving in his original legion, given time, he would still become an outstanding officer with immeasurable prospects.

 

So before the examiner had even finished asking questions, Yun Xunlan marked a check next to Fu Yanxi’s name on the small projection screen of his light brain, indicating he had selected him.

 

Only after this did the examiner ask Fu Yanxi the final question: “Major Fu Yanxi, what strengths do you believe you have that would qualify you to remain by the Third Prince’s side?”

 

“Absolute loyalty and obedience.”

 

Fu Yanxi clenched his right hand into a fist and placed it over his heart. Rather than answering a question, it seemed more like he was taking an oath as he declared firmly: “I am willing to give my life for the Third Prince!”

 

However, his unwavering pledge of loyalty didn’t move Yun Xunlan in the slightest. After all, the twenty-six alphas before him had said the same thing, and the forty-two who would interview after him would say it even more dramatically, comparable to wedding vows, each more sincere and passionate than the last.

 

—Until the seventieth alpha stood before Yun Xunlan.

 

This alpha possessed a pair of striking blue eyes.

 

That blue was pure and intense, radiating in threads from around his dark pupils, like the vast frozen surface of the sea in the bitter winter wind—deep, quiet, with no visible bottom or edge.

 

The moment Yun Xunlan saw him, his entire body involuntarily tensed, and his fingers unconsciously curled into fists—a posture ready for attack.

 

Because Yun Xunlan sensed an unprecedented strong threat from him.

 

In that instant, the primal instincts of an alpha in his susceptibility period urged every particle of Yun Xunlan’s body to scream frantically: tear him apart, defeat him, make him submit before you.

 

Yun Xunlan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, temporarily suppressing the combative emotions boiling in his blood. He thought to himself: This must be the alpha who ranked first in combat assessment among the hundred alpha warriors.

 

When Yun Xunlan opened his eyes again and clicked on this alpha’s information profile, he found that his guess was indeed correct.

 

The man’s name was Yu Chen, 27 years old, an SS-level alpha who graduated from Anluos Military Academy. He had been the top solo mech pilot at the Mech Academy and was currently serving in the Beidou Kaiyang Legion. He had achieved the highest overall score in the royal guard selection assessment. His personal resume was extremely impressive, without any flaws to pick at.

 

 

But no matter how impressive he was, he was still just an SS-level alpha. Why would he cause such a strong reaction in Yun Xunlan?

 

Was it because of the susceptibility period?

 

Yun Xunlan’s eyebrows gradually furrowed as he wrestled with whether to eliminate him.

 

After much hesitation, Yun Xunlan finally made up his mind: eliminate him.

 

Although this alpha was certainly capable enough, Yun Xunlan found him extremely displeasing to look at—if he was already reacting this way to a hologram, what would happen when facing the real person?

 

There were a hundred alphas participating in the interview. He didn’t need to pick the one he found most objectionable.

 

Just as Yun Xunlan was about to click the X next to the man’s name, his peripheral vision caught the man’s military academy graduation scores, and he suddenly saw a striking line: [《War Psychology》: 100]

 

100?

 

Perfect score?

 

A perfect score in War Psychology???

 

At first, Yun Xunlan thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but after looking carefully several more times, the score remained unchanged, causing Yun Xunlan to feel a rare sense of astonishment—how could anyone achieve a perfect score in this subject?

 

Even Yun Xunguang had only scored 95 when she graduated, hadn’t she?

 

Yun Xunlan’s finger hovered, unable to click the X. He raised his eyes to once again carefully examine the alpha with the wolf-tail black hair before him. However, the man’s interview was nearing its end, and Yun Xunlan had missed all the previous answers to the examiner’s questions. He could only hear their exchange about the final question:

 

“Major Yu Chen, what strengths do you believe you have that would qualify you to remain by the Third Prince’s side?”

 

Hearing this, the alpha’s eyebrow lifted slightly. The untamed wildness in his blue eyes, almost impossible to conceal, solidified in that moment, exposing his inherently rebellious and unruly nature.

 

Before hearing his answer, Yun Xunlan first noticed the sunlight rising behind him, shifting with time as it passed through the glass window. At that moment, it fell into the alpha’s eyes, creating a point of bright light in the center of his pupils, giving Yun Xunlan the illusion of being watched by him.

 

It was as if the man’s answer was directed at him—

 

“I can turn anyone into a dog that can only kneel and beg for mercy.”

 

 

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