TYMIMA Chapter 49

This was the first time Lance had heard Oliver’s voice in reality. Compared to the lively youth in the video, Oliver’s voice was now more fragile, soft, and devoid of emotion.

Even in this state, he still cared about others. No wonder he had chosen to betray the Federation government to let his brother escape. Despite being an S-level himself who could have escaped together, he stupidly chose to stay and take responsibility, being tormented by Si Hongche for over a decade.

Such kindness was destined to be devoured by conspiracy.

Lance could feel that behind this door, Oliver wasn’t far from him, but to safely take Oliver away, there was still a long way to go.

“What’s happening? My ability isn’t working!” Lance’s tone was panicked, pretending not to recognize the barrier.

How would a college student with a simple background recognize something used to imprison serious criminals?

Oliver indeed didn’t suspect anything. He breathed with difficulty several times, gathering a bit of strength: “Injured by, barrier, can’t use ability, to heal, must clean… wound, squeeze out… fibers, natural… healing, the higher… awakening level, the slower… healing.”

After this long sentence, his emaciated chest heaved violently, exhaling more than he inhaled, his brain spinning with dizziness.

Due to long-term liquid diet, his body was already very weak. Combined with never seeing sunlight, he had lost a large amount of calcium, making his bones more brittle than normal.

Today, after being frantically tormented by Si Hongche, he clearly felt a dull pain from his fifth rib on the right side, which Si Hongche had accidentally pressed while ravaging his sensitive areas.

He wasn’t sure if it was a bone crack or a fracture, only regretting why it was the right side and not the left. If it had been the left, perhaps it could have pierced his heart.

No, there was no need for regret. Si Hongche wouldn’t allow him to die. Soon, recovery system Awakened ones would come to heal him. They would stare at his marked body like meat on a chopping block, as if he weren’t a living being but Si Hongche’s trash can, ashtray.

“Phew, good thing I’m F-level, looks like I can recover quickly.” Lance muttered to himself, but at a volume just loud enough for Oliver to hear.

“F-level?”

Logically, Oliver really had no energy to generate any other unnecessary emotions, but he desperately needed to distract himself, to ignore the unspeakable pain throughout his body.

Had the rules for selecting outstanding students at Star University changed after more than a decade? In his era, F-levels were almost impossible to get internship opportunities at Blue Pivot.

Hearing the clearly surprised tone, Lance smiled slightly, pretending to be sensitive: “I didn’t get this internship opportunity because of my A-level roommate!”

Oliver recalled the flippant voice that had interrupted Si Hongche’s violence.

Called a roommate, but in reality, probably a boyfriend.

Someone who could violate Blue Pivot’s rules for his Omega, calmly accepting whipping and solitary confinement as punishment, must be a very good Alpha.

“I didn’t…”

Oliver wanted to explain, but felt a surge of blood in his throat, forcing him to cough softly.

But each cough pulled at his wounds, causing him such pain that he felt dizzy and nearly fainted.

Just as Si Hongche had said, every year on the anniversary of Sui Sui’s death was a day he utterly dreaded and could barely endure. He had to use all his willpower to remind himself that on this day, he should be commemorating, not fearing.

Lance’s other hand lightly touched his side pocket, where the box of Bone Flower ointment prepared by Fata was kept, which had miraculous effects on plant system Awakened ones.

But after a moment’s thought, he put his hand down.

He wasn’t sure if the ointment made from exotic herbs could pass through the barrier’s restrictions. If it failed, it would only increase the risk of exposure.

“I’m the top student in my year at Star University. My F-level ability can predict risks and increase team survival rates, so the two of us are Star University’s twin stars, even—” Lance lightly pushed his glasses, raised his fox-like eyes, suddenly slowing his pace and deliberately emphasizing, “S-level glands… are not afraid.”

Oliver felt as if his heart had been hammered by these words. He suddenly opened his eyes.

After saying this, Lance withdrew his hand and stood up. His reddish-brown hair covered half his face, and on the back of his hand was a winding blood mark extending to his fingertips.

“Senior Lauen said you have anorexia, but considering I got injured delivering your meal, you should eat this one.”

With that, Lance pushed the food cart again, not waiting for Oliver’s reply, and walked straight toward the office area on the other side of the atrium.

Oliver struggled to prop himself up with his elbows, hurriedly shuffling toward the door.

However, before he could even get off the bed, that clear, pleasant Omega voice had already gone far away.

He hadn’t been able to see that person.

S-level glands.

That was the payment he had promised to the Black Lantern Society, information only he and the Black Lantern Society knew.

Was it a coincidence, or a hint for him?

Had the Black Lantern Society finally come to kill him?

Lance placed the remaining ten boxed meals on the white table at the entrance of the office area. Each meal box was white, with the inspection team members’ names written on sticky notes.

With Zhan Pingchuan gone, he had no interest in delivering them one by one.

Just as Lance was about to push the empty cart downstairs, Si Hongche suddenly walked out of the seventh-floor bathroom, blocking his way.

Lance quickly pulled the cart to a stop.

Si Hongche’s pitch-black pupils were like a deep pool, unfathomably dark. His gaze fell on the bleeding back of Lance’s hand, staring at the already dried blood, sneering: “You’re injured. Didn’t your precognitive ability warn you?”

Over the years, Si Hongche had habitually become suspicious of everything. He never believed in coincidences; any unexpected behavior must have secrets behind it.

After washing his hands, he hadn’t left but directly opened the surveillance of Oliver’s room.

He had heard all the conversations between Lance and Oliver and noticed Oliver’s somewhat “enthusiastic” reaction to Lance.

Yet he couldn’t discern anything suspicious from Lance’s words. Although this Omega seemed more talkative, his conversation appeared reasonable.

But why did Oliver specifically react to him? Si Hongche wouldn’t overlook even the slightest doubt.

Lance’s lowered eyelids trembled slightly, then slowly lifted.

He thought to himself, this paranoid madman Si Hongche would indeed check the surveillance.

Lance, like a frightened small animal, had fear in his eyes but tried to maintain calm: “My ability just failed.”

His reaction was normal, showing both the pride of an excellent student and the instinctive timidity when facing a crisis.

After all, Si Hongche had just demonstrated what power meant right in front of him.

Si Hongche narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Lance.

In front of the barrier, any ability would fail. He wasn’t sure if this included precognitive abilities.

But that wasn’t important. What couldn’t be explained was why Oliver would struggle to prop himself up, wanting to see him.

What was special about this Omega?

Judging by his age, when Oliver was imprisoned in Blue Pivot, he probably wasn’t even born yet. They couldn’t possibly have any connection.

Since it couldn’t be explained, he would treat him as a suspect.

Si Hongche extended his hand, deliberately knocked twice on the office area’s door, then said to Lance in a cold tone: “I wonder if your ability is telling you now that a crisis is imminent.”

From inside the office area came a commotion, and soon five or six neatly dressed, serious-faced inspection team members rushed out.

“Director!”

“Director Si!”

Si Hongche closed his eyes, wearily waved his finger, and was about to order someone to take Lance away when he heard Lance suddenly speak: “I don’t sense any crisis for myself, but the person in that room probably isn’t doing well.”

Si Hongche’s eyes snapped open, his hand movement stopping. He glanced at Lance’s nervously trembling forearm and couldn’t help but mock: “Didn’t you just say your ability had failed?”

Lance took a deep breath, trying to stay calm: “This doesn’t require an ability. He spoke intermittently, his vocal cords hoarse, accompanied by breathing difficulties and uncontrollable low, muffled coughing. I guess he likely has respiratory tract bleeding or chest cavity bleeding. Without timely treatment, he might go into hemorrhagic shock or even die from suffocation.”

Si Hongche’s pupils contracted sharply, his fingers suddenly clenching. He didn’t bother to interrogate Lance further and hurriedly strode toward the confinement room.

He might have been deceived, but he couldn’t take that risk.

The remaining inspection team members stood in place, looking at each other in confusion, not knowing what to do next.

Si Hongche quickly took out the key, opened the barrier, and saw Oliver lying at the edge of the bed, about to fall off.

He had no time to think and stepped forward to catch the falling Oliver in his arms.

Oliver clearly hadn’t expected Si Hongche to return. His whole body tensed, stiffly curling up, his pupils suddenly dilating.

The leather coat slid down from his shoulders, revealing his ravaged body.

Si Hongche, suppressing his anger, demanded: “What are you trying to do? What was so special about what he just said that made you react so strongly?”

In an extremely brief moment, as if in a final burst of clarity, Oliver’s thinking ability soared to its peak.

This was his only chance to escape this hopeless world. He couldn’t bring disaster upon himself or anyone else.

Oliver’s lips moved, a gurgling cough coming from his throat. His gaze passed over Si Hongche’s face, looking toward the empty, open door with a delirious longing, becoming increasingly unfocused.

“Twin… stars……”

Si Hongche felt as if a sharp sword had pierced his heart and was being twisted around. A huge hole opened in his chest, the winds of the past pouring in, ruthlessly tearing apart all warmth.

So this was why Oliver had reacted abnormally—he still remembered those four years known as the twin stars, those brilliant university days.

Time is cruel; any title can be taken away one day. Just like now, when people mention the twin stars, no one thinks of Si Hongche and Oliver standing side by side.

It belongs to the successors, to the people of the future.

Si Hongche finally noticed that Lance was right—Oliver was only exhaling, not inhaling. The sound from his throat was very strange, and on the right side of his chest, a terrifying purple bruise was forming.

“Call a recovery system Awakened one here!” Si Hongche roared at the inspection team members across the atrium.

“Yes!” Several of them ran off with their orders, their usually lifeless faces finally showing expressions of panic.

They dared not imagine how insane Si Hongche would become if this person died, or whether District Two would ever have peaceful days again.

Having achieved his purpose, Oliver closed his eyes in exhaustion. In the last moment of consciousness, he thought with forced nausea—

Si Hongche, if I wanted to deceive you, how easy it would be, but I never wanted to deceive you.

–

At midnight that night, the door of District One’s solitary confinement room was opened, and Robert’s bulky figure appeared outside: “Hmph, will you dare to skip work again?”

Si Hongche’s order was to confine him for a full twenty-four hours, but District Two was District Two, and District One was District One. By the time the order reached Robert, it had been diluted through layers.

Robert wasn’t stupid either. During such a busy period, locking up a living, breathing workforce to sleep all day—they weren’t that senseless.

Zhan Pingchuan lazily stretched his limbs, extending his waist: “Teacher Huai, you just don’t understand. This is what’s called a ‘flesh sacrifice strategy.’ When I go back, my little Omega will be heartbroken.”

Robert couldn’t help but imagine an R-rated scene: a red-haired, white-skinned little O crying with concern, being comforted in the Alpha’s arms, and as the comforting continued, being coaxed to bed, finally turning into long, enticing moans.

Thinking about it, he even felt a bit envious.

“You still have the mind to think about such things? The beating wasn’t hard enough!”

Zhan Pingchuan walked out of the confinement room, stretching his neck, asking puzzledly: “What am I thinking about?”

As such a pure and upright college guy, at most he’d imagine the cute scene of the little fox wiping tears with reddened eyes. He really didn’t know what kind of unspeakable things were in the minds of middle-aged single men.

Robert, full of envy and jealousy: “Get out of here! Work properly tomorrow. If you dare skip again, it won’t be just twenty lashes!”

“I know, I know. This beating wasn’t for nothing.” Zhan Pingchuan waved his hand with his back to Robert.

Only when he was walking alone on the way back to the dormitory did he twist his face and suck in a cold breath.

To be fair, District Five’s whips were of some quality—not enough to damage tendons and bones, but definitely enough to cause pain.

Although Zhan Pingchuan wouldn’t cry to the heavens or be bedridden over such injuries, the wounds probably looked quite frightening. He wasn’t sure if the little red fox could handle it.

Maybe he should apply some of his mom’s pheromones in advance and then claim the beating was perfunctory, not so painful.

His mouth was full of glib talk, but he truly couldn’t bear to make the little red fox cry.

Moreover, he was beaten because he accompanied Lance to deliver meals, and he was afraid Lance would feel guilty.

But when Zhan Pingchuan felt his pocket, he remembered that he had hidden the vial of pheromones under his pillow, not carrying it with him.

Zhan Pingchuan pressed his temples with a headache. It seemed he’d have to return to the dormitory first.

He had intended to sneak back to his own room stealthily and treat himself secretly, but as soon as he entered the dormitory hall, he saw Lance sitting in the corridor with a chair, arms folded, resting with his eyes closed.

Zhan Pingchuan instantly felt a warmth in his heart. He himself didn’t know when he would be released, but it seemed Lance had planned to wait here all along.

As soon as Zhan Pingchuan approached, Lance woke up. His confused, sleepy eyes looked at Zhan Pingchuan, instantly brightening: “You’re back.”

“How long have you been waiting?” Zhan Pingchuan smiled, wanting to go over and hug him, but Lance stopped him with a hand.

“Back to the room. Let me see your whip wounds.” Lance didn’t even bother with the chair, supporting Zhan Pingchuan’s arm and leading him to his room.

“Are you really worried? It’s nothing, I—” Zhan Pingchuan was about to speak, but Lance covered his mouth with his hand.

Lance’s amber eyes were like a tranquil lake at night, full of tenderness: “Your lips are dry. They’re rough on my hand.”

Then he withdrew his hand, brought Zhan Pingchuan into the room, and closed the door behind them.

Zhan Pingchuan hurriedly pressed his lips together, trying to quickly moisten the lips that had roughened Lance’s palm.

But he really hadn’t drunk water for a long time, and his mouth wasn’t that moist either.

Lance handed him an opened bottle of water, his gaze falling on the blood-stained shirt, his eyes darkening: “Drink this. I’ll apply medicine for you.”

With that, he reached out to unbutton Zhan Pingchuan’s shirt.

“Ah, it looks scary, but it doesn’t really hurt that much. I even slept against the wall for a while.” Zhan Pingchuan knew he couldn’t stop him, so he tried to prepare him in advance.

“Mm.” Lance responded perfunctorily, quickly unbuttoning Zhan Pingchuan’s shirt completely and peeling it off.

The pale light illuminated Zhan Pingchuan’s physique with particular clarity. His upper arm muscles were naturally tense from the pain, outlining smooth, lean lines. The weather was hot, and his chest was still covered in sweat. Now exposed to view, the sweat beads slid from his ribs down to his abs with a certain exhibitionist quality.

The sweat glistened, dazzling in the light.

Lance had always believed that Zhan Pingchuan’s body was extremely aesthetic. It was a kind of primitive, wild power that people from Harbor Tan didn’t possess, like a snow leopard in the Gobi Desert, sculpted into the most perfect contours by freedom and the vast wilderness.

But at this moment, he wasn’t in the mood to appreciate the Alpha’s sexual appeal.

Lance pressed Zhan Pingchuan onto the chair and moved behind him.

Twenty crisscrossing whip marks lay grotesquely on the taut skin. The once smooth and delicate back now had openings where the whip marks overlapped, oozing spots of blood. Soaked in sweat, they showed signs of inflammation.

The rest of the unbroken skin didn’t look good either. The whip marks were clearly raised, like red worms gorged with fresh blood.

Out of Zhan Pingchuan’s sight, Lance’s gaze turned grim.

They had actually beaten him so severely.

He had originally planned to apply ordinary ointment for Zhan Pingchuan, but seeing these wounds, ordinary ointment probably wouldn’t have much effect.

Lance’s cool fingers lightly traced Zhan Pingchuan’s shoulder, finally stopping near the whip marks.

Forget it, after all, he was his little idiot.

Lance withdrew his hand and said softly: “Wait, I’ll get some medicine.”

He took out the ointment Fata had prepared for him from a nearby drawer. It was also made from exotic herbs from the underground city. Although it didn’t smell very good, it was excellent for pain relief and accelerating healing, especially for Awakened ones.

Using medicine made by a Black Lantern Society member certainly risked exposing his identity, but he really couldn’t bear to see these injuries and was willing to take that risk.

Zhan Pingchuan finished a whole bottle of water, his dry throat finally comfortable, and he couldn’t stop talking again: “Little classmate Lance, you didn’t cry behind my back, did you? Does brother need to comfort you?”

“You’re the one crying.” Lance snorted lightly, unscrewing the cap, dipping his finger in the ointment, and gently applying it to Zhan Pingchuan’s wounds.

“Hiss.” Zhan Pingchuan straightened his back, then sniffed, saying diplomatically, “Baby, what kind of medicine is this? The smell is quite… unique.”

Zhan Pingchuan didn’t dare say that the medicine was both sour and bitter, like something moldy and damp.

“Don’t move. It’s medicine from a village barefoot doctor, very effective.” Lance generously applied the green ointment all over Zhan Pingchuan’s back. As the ointment contacted the wounds, it was quickly absorbed.

Zhan Pingchuan gradually felt the power of this medicine. He suddenly realized his back felt ice-cold, the pain visibly receding. Where Lance’s fingers had passed, only a slippery, comfortable sensation remained.

“Damn, it’s true!”

Zhan Pingchuan was shocked.

Having grown up in Ghost Eye Guild, where talent was abundant, everyone relied on recovery system Awakened ones for healing when injured. Ointments had gradually been phased out.

This was the first time he had seen a medicinal product that was no less effective than a recovery system ability.

“Baby, I’ve discovered a path to wealth. Interested?”

“Hmm?” Lance tucked his hair behind his ear to prevent it from touching Zhan Pingchuan’s back.

“Want to do reselling?”

“…No.”

This medicine was Fata’s pure handmade preparation, requiring large amounts of exotic herbs from underground cities and his unique ability, making it extremely rare in production. Non-Black Lantern Society members couldn’t even see it.

Reselling? Dream on.

“I don’t seem to feel any pain at all. I can continue delivering meals tomorrow. Maybe Teacher Huai will be moved by my persistence and stubbornness and transfer me to District Two to accompany you.” Zhan Pingchuan flexed his back muscles, successfully causing Lance to smear the last bit of ointment.

Lance took a deep breath, capped the container, and tossed the empty medicine box aside.

He was actually quite skilled at managing people. Lan Wendao could entrust the Black Lantern Society to him partly because he valued this talent.

Although the Black Lantern Society members seemed unorthodox and peculiar in their daily lives, no one dared to truly disobey the White Pharaoh’s orders.

The little idiot was the only one whose thinking was so unpredictable that he couldn’t control him.

Lance leaned down and lightly kissed Zhan Pingchuan’s red, swollen wounds. The broken skin from the whip marks pained his eyes. He narrowed his eyes, his breath gently falling on Zhan Pingchuan’s tan skin.

“Don’t you dare show off again in the future, or I’ll—” teach you a good lesson.

Zhan Pingchuan only felt soft lips gently rubbing against his back, warm and comfortable. He reached behind, hooked Lance’s waist, and with a pull, brought him onto his lap.

After half a day apart, the little fox had toughened up, speaking with quite an intimidating tone.

Zhan Pingchuan pinched his fair chin, bent down to kiss his rosy lips, and asked with a smile: “Or what?”

“…I’ll ignore you.” Little classmate Lance wasn’t the White Pharaoh, so he could only grumble with this completely non-threatening way.