Chapter 299: Treatment

Chapter 299: Therapy

Ye Wang exited the nightclub and split up with the guards at the crossroads, leading Pei Qi all the way to the checkpoint. "Alright, we've had enough fun tonight. You go ahead first."

After tonight, Pei Qi no longer dared to act chummy with his "trust-fund brat" cousin. Shrinking like a quail, he stammered, "C-cousin, aren’t you coming up?"

"Me?" Ye Wang staggered a couple of steps and laughed. "Had too much to drink. Need to walk it off."

Pei Qi nodded like a bobblehead. "Got it. Watch your back, man."

He left without looking back.

Ye Wang called out leisurely behind him, "Next time something like this happens, I’ll invite you out again."

Pei Qi’s footsteps abruptly quickened.

Once his figure disappeared at the end of the checkpoint, Ye Wang turned and strode back. He marched down the long street, bypassing the silent, deserted alleys, his military boots tapping against the ground with echoing thuds.

The lower district at night was a haven for trouble—chaotic, lawless, and ruled by the law of the jungle. In the shadows of the alleys lurked street rats, countless pairs of eyes gleaming in the dark, watching the outsider who didn’t belong.

At some point, Ye Wang had already drawn his gun from the small of his back, spinning it on his finger. It was the Empire’s latest standard-issue military sidearm, equipped with an auto-aim system. Its high-velocity bullets could shred flesh in an instant. Ye Wang paused, glancing slightly over his shoulder, and the hidden observers retreated into the shadows.

At the end of the alley stood another bar.

The bar’s sign was eye-searingly bright, its neon argon lights glowing a fluorescent purple like a retro barbershop’s neon spiral. Inside, the muffled thumping bassline of loud music and energetic dancing could be heard.

Even the lower district needed entertainment. Anyone with loose change would come here to unwind.

Ye Wang acted as if he had wandered in casually, on a whim. He pushed open the door, weaving through wasted patrons, and headed straight for the counter.

The bartender was a long-haired, bespectacled man. He tossed the rag he’d been using to wipe the counter into a bucket of dirty water and leaned forward, hands braced on the bar. "What’s your poison?"

Ye Wang: "A Bloody Mary. The base liquor should be over 79 proof."

The bartender looked up at him, his eyes scrutinizing Ye Wang from behind his glasses. "I’ve got plenty of high-proof vodka here. Take your pick."

Ye Wang’s gaze swept over the liquor cabinet. "Solid options. Shame. Years ago, I had a vodka made from wheat grown in the Rabur star system. None of these compare."

The bartender: "The Rabur system was destroyed in the war."

Ye Wang shrugged. "Damn shame. It had beautiful mountains and valleys. I’d planned to retire there."

The bartender straightened, his expression turning serious. He was nearly as tall as Ye Wang, his arms muscular and toned—far too refined for the lower district. "Follow me, sir. My cellar has a bottle that rivals Rabur’s. Today’s your lucky day."

Ye Wang: "My pleasure."

They bypassed the booze-drenched bar area and descended into the cellar. Once the heavy door was shut, Ye Wang fiddled with his communicator, pulling up his photo and rank. "Colonel, good to finally meet you. Ye Wang, commander of the Federation’s Third Army."

The colonel returned a crisp salute and smiled. "Command briefed me a new colleague would be arriving for assistance. I didn’t expect it to be you. Make yourself comfortable—I’ll pour you some tea."

Ye Wang took a seat at the round conference table in the center of the cellar. Beside him was an ashtray layered with cigarette ash and tea stains, as though a meeting had been held here not long ago.

Ye Wang glanced around. "Sir, is this the Federation’s outpost in the Empire?"

The colonel: "Yes, Major General. Not quite what you imagined, is it? The Federation’s main base ought to be some luxurious hotel, but here in the lower district, this is the best we’ve got."

He gave a bitter laugh. "The upper district’s security is airtight. The lower district is the only place we can infiltrate and survive as undocumented residents. But unless you’re born with upper-district citizenship, it’s nearly impossible for lower-district residents to obtain legal status up there... Oh, there is one way—genetic modification. We considered sending someone to participate in the genetic modification program, but after running the numbers, we abandoned the idea."

Ye Wang paused. "Why abandon it?"

The colonel said, "My colleagues' assessment shows extremely high risks, with a high likelihood of death or permanent disability... Oh, I have an evaluation manual here. Would you like to see it?"

He pulled up an outdated file from his communication device.

This was a document unfamiliar to Ye Wang.

Although he also belonged to the Federation, he was in a completely different department from the colonel responsible for undercover operations. Unlike Ye Wang and his aides, who often joked around, the colonel and his team only reported valuable intelligence to their superiors—such as movements of the Imperial army or the deployment of new weapons. Internal decisions like canceling a plan would never be transmitted via electronic files.

Ye Wang's superficial understanding of the Gene Modification Plan was far shallower than the colonel's deep knowledge.

Ye Wang lowered his gaze and flipped through the document.

The first line read in bold letters: "Strongly recommend against implementing the 'Proposal to Obtain Upper District Citizenship Through Gene Modification.' Reason: Extremely high risk. I take full responsibility for the following statements."

Beneath it was the signature of the recommender.

The colonel said, "A member of our team—a Federation MD and genetic engineer."

Ye Wang continued reading.

"According to observations, the first batch of Gene Modification Plan participants numbered nearly 3,000, with only 600 survivors. Covert monitoring of twenty individuals revealed varying degrees of sequelae, listed as follows:"

[Medical Report Tone]

"Song Yue: Blindness, severe leg decay, amputation surgery."

...

"Xiao Liu: Systemic organ failure."

...

It was practically a record of misery.

Ye Wang lowered his eyes. "Did these people not receive proper treatment?"

The colonel chuckled. "Major General, we're in the Empire now, not the Federation."

After sharing intel, Ye Wang gave a final instruction before leaving: "Track someone for me. If there’s any movement of his in the Lower District, let me know."

The colonel asked, "Who?"

Ye Wang replied, "The Empire's Star—Jiang Qi."

He left the safehouse.

After the delay at the outpost, Ye Wang stopped by a supermarket to maintain cover. By the time he returned home, Jiang Qi was already there.

Warm light filled the villa. Jiang Qi was watching TV on the first floor. When he spotted Ye Wang, he stood up and reached out to take the shopping bag from him. "Good evening, sir."

Ye Wang replied, "Good evening."

He studied his "wife" with interest. Jiang Qi had changed into loungewear and slippers, his entire figure wrapped in soft fabric—the fierce Jiang Qi from the fighting ring seemed like nothing more than an illusion.

So, Ye Wang raised the plastic bag higher. "Not so fast. Guess what’s inside?"

Jiang Qi instinctively reached out, but the movement pulled at his wound on his abdomen. His brows twitched slightly before relaxing again. He lowered his gaze. "I don’t know, sir."

In a place Ye Wang couldn’t see, he surreptitiously checked his clothes. Good—no bloodstains showing.

After returning home, Jiang Qi used the showerhead to wash away the bloodstains on his waist and abdomen. Pei Gu's home had the most advanced med-pod, so there were no first-aid supplies on hand, but the treatment fluid was expensive. Afraid of being discovered, Jiang Qi didn’t dare use it without permission and only hastily bandaged the wound, just enough to stem the bleeding.

The cold water bit into the wound a little, but compared to his days in the lab, it was nothing.

Fortunately, Ye Wang didn’t sleep with him, so the injury could stay hidden for a while.

Ye Wang: "Guess what I got you? Your favorite."

"..."

"Something I like?" Jiang Qi thought coldly: "Guns, knives, inhibitors for genetic mutations."

Seeing his lack of cooperation, Ye Wang simply shoved the plastic bag at him: "Fine, take a look yourself."

Jiang Qi obediently opened it and froze on the spot—it was a large bucket of pink liquid. Not deep pink, not grayish pink, but the just-right baby pink, like the color of a little girl’s princess dress.

On the bucket was a line of colorful text: "Golden milk source from 40° south latitude, paired with carefully selected strawberries from 34° north latitude. Contains over 5% real milk and strawberry juice. Smooth as strawberry milk, turning the treatment pod into a milk bath, so your kid won’t fight treatment."

Jiang Qi: "...?"

Ye Wang smiled: "Don’t you like strawberry milk? Well, today while shopping, I happened to see this new concentrated treatment fluid for children—strawberry milk flavor—total coincidence. What do you think?"

"..."

Thanks, but no thanks.

Jiang Qi’s eye twitched: "It’s... it’s nice, sir."

Ye Wang: "Do you like it? You said you liked strawberry milk, didn’t you?"

"..."

Talk about shooting himself in the foot, Jiang Qi bit back a sigh: "I... I do, sir."

Ye Wang: "Good. Wanna test-drive it?"

Jiang Qi took a step back: "Try... try what?"

Ye Wang: "The treatment fluid, of course. Take it for a dip. If you like it, we’ll make this our go-to from now on."

"..."

Jiang Qi: "N-no need, sir. Treatment fluid is expensive. Seems like a waste."

Ye Wang: "It’s just an experiment. How is that wasteful?"

He eyed Jiang Qi, amused: "Or is it that your thing for strawberry milk isn’t genuine?"

"..."

"Of course it’s genuine, sir," Jiang Qi surrendered.

He followed Ye Wang upstairs and lay flat in the med-pod, nervously clutching his pajamas like a fish on a cutting board.

Ye Wang adjusted the machine, eyeing his stiff, rigid posture—as if he’d just been dug out of the ground—and tutted. "Strip. I won’t peek, and this treatment fluid isn’t transparent anyway. Those fuzzy pajamas of yours would be hell to clean if they got dirty."

That much was true. The treatment fluid was designed to smell/feel like strawberry milk, like a literal milk bath. Once submerged, nothing would be visible from the outside.

Jiang Qi could only mumble, "Yeah." He braced himself as the pink liquid bubbled up around him—cloyingly sweet, like surrender.

He loosened his robe ties, glancing sideways in Ye Wang's direction.

—Not that he was afraid of being seen; this body was covered in scars, hardly worth looking at. He just didn’t want his wounds noticed, to avoid unnecessary complications.

Ye Wang merely turned his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the compass as he focused on adjusting the machine. He heard faint rustling.

It was Jiang Qi removing his shirt. Ye Wang kept his eyes lowered, not looking up even slightly. In his line of sight, he only saw the fleece sleep pants drop to the floor, followed by two lean, well-defined legs stepping out, bare feet pressing against the ground. Then, with a long stride, Jiang Qi stepped into the med-pod.

Ye Wang kept his eyes downcast. "In? I’ll start adding the treatment fluid now."

The commander never once looked Jiang Qi's way the entire time, playing the perfect gentleman—utterly unlike someone who had just been to a nightclub.

Jiang Qi smirked to himself before letting out a faint, compliant hum.

The pink solution filled the med-pod, the concentrated solution mixing and heating in proportion, releasing the sweet fragrance of strawberry milk. Jiang Qi sat halfway in the pod, watching as the treatment fluid rose past his calves, then his thighs, then his waist, until it reached his collarbones.

It was soothing.

The treatment fluid was warm, like a warm milk bath, even soothing the swollen, numb wounds slightly.

Ye Wang asked without turning, "Can I look now?"

"...Yes, sir."

Ye Wang then picked up the breathing mask and handed it to Jiang Qi. "Lie back. I’ll activate the pod."

Jiang Qi secured the mask and lay back.

Once again, he sank into an enclosed space. Darkness closed in like rising water, and memories of suffocation and near-death resurfaced—only to be quickly suppressed this time.

The lab had reeked of harsh chemicals and pungent disinfectant, enough to give anyone a headache. Now, the scent of strawberry milk filled his nose.

Overwhelmingly sweet, almost bitter, dizzying, yet somehow comforting.

Jiang Qi knew he wasn’t in the lab.

The med-pod was expensive medical equipment, and the treatment fluid was an even pricier consumable. The basic version alone cost a fortune, costing a month's salary for an average upper-city resident. The flavored and colored variants were absurdly expensive—there was no way the lab could afford such high-end treatment fluid.

And so, lying in the nutrient solution, Jiang Qi suddenly felt drowsy.