Chapter 7: It’s Okay, Try Again

Chapter 7 No Big Deal, Try Again

The alpha's fingers lightly tapped the edge of the desk, the sound of fingertips meeting wood echoing distinctly in the silent room.

The motion wasn’t heavy, yet it carried an undeniable sense of control.

A crate of nutrition packs.

“Pretty thrifty.”

The words were ambiguous, the emotion behind them unreadable.

Somehow, Song Yuqing’s social media account had been dug up, and even his entire whereabouts from the day before had been pieced together and posted on the forum.

Almost no privacy left at all.

Because of that post claiming Song Yuqing couldn’t even afford nutrition packs, thirty percent of the students at Victor United High were sending him harassing messages.

—Baby, want to cheat?

—I’ll pay to be the other woman, give you money, and won’t make a scene in front of your husband, how about that?

—Your husband is such a miser. If I had a wife as pretty as you, I’d spend all my money on you.

After being interrupted by these messages for the umpteenth time while trying to look at a map on his old phone,

Song Yuqing: “…”

So annoying.

88: “Baby…” Don’t give up on living, get your act together.

But before it could finish, Song Yuqing spoke up, “Don’t talk for now.”

88’s attempt to call him ‘baby’ failed, and it shut up guiltily.

88 thought Song Yuqing would block everyone, but instead, it saw him edit a message and send it to every person who had messaged him.

System 88 leaned in to look and almost had a heart attack.

—Room 3216. Come.

88: “?”

Song Yuqing, are you there? Dude, are you even straight? Are you sure you haven’t always liked men?

That tone—like he was calling a dog—what did Song Yuqing think they were?

Yet they couldn’t help but imagine, looking at Song Yuqing’s photo, him stone-faced, beckoning them over with a hook of his finger.

Giving them a cold look, distant and careless.

All their excitement, all their anticipation, hit a wall when they saw “3216.”

Because 3216 was Pei Huai’s dorm room, and Pei Huai was not someone you wanna cross.

If they upset Pei Huai, they’d be in for a world of hurt for a long while to come.

Not many were eager to experience Pei Huai’s mental power sparring sessions.

But Song Yuqing had reached out to them—if they didn’t go, he’d probably be disappointed. Maybe he’d chosen 3216 on purpose, hoping to find an alpha who could protect him from Pei Huai’s bullying.

It was a night of weighing their options and restless excitement for the alphas.

Meanwhile, in the hospital room, Qi Ran was looking down, his long black hair shading the gloomy, cold look in his eyes.

Song Yuqing’s contact information was right there on display on his phone screen.

Qi Ran had gone and added Song Yuqing after all.

qr: “Where are you?”

T-T: “Spot me some cash, I’ll pay you back when I have it.”

T-T: “I’m your father, lend it to me.”

Qi Ran: “…”

After transferring three thousand new dollars to Song Yuqing with a blank expression, Qi Ran’s pockets were cleaner than his face.

Song Yuqing, wearing a black baseball cap, was climbing over the wall, his hands gripping the edge with smooth practice. The hem of his shirt lifted in the wind, showing a sliver of pale, slim waist.

Lean but tough, delicate and white.

On his waist were suggestive red marks left by Pei Huai’s grip, like red plum blossoms against snow.

88 covered its face—this was a real pro, too far gone.

Song Yuqing jumped down from the wall, having climbed out of the school, and made a beeline for his destination.

Once off school grounds, his walk got noticeably springier.

Although this world was high-tech, roughly twenty or thirty years ahead of the one he came from, it was developed but not to the extent of a star-faring age with mechs.

Song Yuqing had seen plenty of futuristic concepts before, like mental power-controlled mechs.

Simplified a bit, it could be boiled down to alphas using mental power to control robots.

It required designing software, hardware, and the use of mental power sensors. Theoretically, it wasn’t that hard, but actually making it work was tough.

Still, there was no rush—he could take his time designing it.

For now, what he needed to do was make a batch of small robots to sell to the saps at school.

Song Yuqing found a cyber cafe.

Cool-colored neon signs intertwined in the mist at the entrance, throwing fractured light patterns on the glass walls.

Song Yuqing got a terminal in the corner—fifty new dollars for the night. 88 watched as he spent eight solid hours playing games.

88 stared at the ceiling—this was it, his host didn’t care about the protagonist, wasn’t playing the stepmother role right, preferred gaming and playing the troublemaker, and even borrowed money from the protagonist.

While Song Yuqing was focused on gaming, the dormitory was going crazy.

“Baby, you smell amazing.”

Pei Huai’s face was ice-cold as his mental power spread out, bearing down hard directly like a steamroller crushing the mental power of those alphas.

Pei Huai’s mental power even blew a cabinet door right off.

The alpha's head instantly felt like it was being pricked by needles, a scream choked in his throat by the overwhelming mental suppression.

While he was away, Song Yuqing actually dared to bring so many alphas back to the dorm.

Flirting with all these alphas—that's so like Song Yuqing.

Someone turned on the light, and only then did Pei Huai fully see the scene inside Room 3216: a whole dozen alphas crowded around Song Yuqing’s bed.

But Song Yuqing was nowhere to be found in the room.

These alphas were clutching Song Yuqing’s blanket, dividing up his clothes, and obsessively sniffing the cold, unique fragrance that belonged solely to him.

A bunch of shameless alphas, completely manipulated by Song Yuqing, even getting aroused by his clothes.

“Get over here and explain—where is Song Yuqing?” Pei Huai stepped on an alpha’s fingers, ruthlessly crushing the bones.

Penta kill!

The black baseball cap hid most of the beta’s face, revealing only a pale chin and lightly colored lips, cold and restrained.

The blue light from the screen cast a cold glaze over the beta’s eyes, the curve of his lowered eyelashes casting crow-feather shadows beneath them.

His pale wrist moved, faint blue veins visible beneath the skin.

Slender fingers clicked the mouse as his in-game character once again cleared the health bars of the opponents, bringing up the game’s results screen.

Another paid gameplay session ended. Song Yuqing took off his headset, tilted his head slightly, his eyes lazy and relaxed, not forgetting to provide emotional validation to the client: “You played really well, sis.”

A hidden camera in the corner only managed to capture the beta’s pale neck.

The cool glow of the mechanical keyboard traced the alpha’s throat as he secretly swallowed.

Who would have thought you could run into a beta like this at an internet cafe? His slender frame, hovering between youth and adulthood, that pure yet cold look made people's hearts itch with desire.

Just sitting there playing games seemed like an invitation.

On the third day, leaving the internet cafe, Song Yuqing felt like his head was about to burst. A cold breeze blew, the dampness in the air rising, and he finally sobered up a little.

Song Yuqing weakly muttered, “Close my eyes and all I see are Err_0xFFFFF error dialog boxes.”

88: “...”

Three days and nights without sleep, alternating between paid gaming and learning programming, programming until tired then taking more paid gigs—no wonder your brain’s fried.

But the earnings weren’t bad—100 New Coins per hour for paid gaming and boosting. Song Yuqing had a good attitude and patience. Though the first few sessions paid less, later clients with more money tipped him a modest few thousand.

Having earned 9,000 New Coins, Song Yuqing was in a pretty good mood. After repaying Qi Ran’s 3,000 New Coins, the rest was his startup capital.

Song Yuqing turned into a narrow alley. It had just rained, the air thick with moisture, so thick it felt like it could clog your breathing.

The alpha licked his teeth, carefully following, afraid his prey would run. Now was the time when the prey was most vulnerable. Just hold on tight, and then…

The alpha began imagining dragging the prey into the alley, hearing him make enticing sounds.

He’d just heard the little beta’s voice during the game—simple commands, but coming from him, it was thrilling.

The little beta had a good temper; even when teammates fed kills, he’d gently comfort, “It’s okay, try again.”

Maybe if he caught him, violated him, he’d also say, pitiful and unresisting—It’s okay, try again.

Footsteps echoed in the alley, splashing through puddles, soaking his pants legs.

Song Yuqing didn’t speak, slowing down slightly as if annoyed, most of his attention caught by his increasingly soaked pant legs, completely unaware of the figure drawing closer and closer behind him.

He turned into an even darker alley.

The alpha seized the opportunity and lunged.

But he lunged at empty air, instead feeling a dull pain on his head. The person hitting him moved swiftly; he didn’t even have time to react or fight back.

Dim yellow light filtered in from the adjacent alley. Song Yuqing looked down at him coldly before squatting, smiling gently but speaking with a cold tone: “Following me?”

Blood blurred the alpha’s vision. Lifting his head, he saw the beta’s strikingly beautiful face through a haze of red.

His long eyelashes dipped slightly, fragmented light catching on them.

Pale and fragile, yet beautifully divine.

The alpha’s heart raced, adrenaline surging through him. As if bewitched, he stared up at Song Yuqing from the ground like a dog, swallowing hard: “Sorry.”

Song Yuqing: “...”

Psycho.

Hard to imagine a stalker apologizing.

This world really is crazy.

Song Yuqing lowered his gaze, lost in thought. The alpha stared at him expectantly: “Aren’t you going to say ‘it’s okay’? Maybe you could tell me, ‘It’s okay, try again.’”

88: “You really got him going.”

Song Yuqing: “...”

Song Yuqing gave him another solid hit, knocking him out, then stopped and walked away.

The first light of dawn. Song Yuqing arrived at a scrap recycling station, spent 2,000 New Coins, and gathered a pile of controllers, microcontrollers, and sheet metal suitable for his small projects.

Other components he needed could be scavenged from the school lab.

Song Yuqing transferred another 3,000 New Coins back to Qi Ran.

Qi Ran was in study hall when he saw the transfer notification. He lowered his head, wanting to ask where Song Yuqing had been, but in the end, he held back, his clear black eyes clouded with shadow.

What was he to Song Yuqing? How could he deserve to pry into Song Yuqing’s affairs?

Just as Qi Ran was about to put his phone away, it was snatched by an alpha sitting behind him.

Qi Ran: “Give it back.”

Pei Huai didn’t want to deal with Qi Ran now; he took the phone and left.

Pei Huai went to the rooftop while Pei Luo blocked Qi Ran’s path.

The previous chat records had already been deleted by Qi Ran. The only recent record was Song Yuqing transferring 3,000 New Coins to Qi Ran.

Had Song Yuqing disappeared these past few days to work and support Qi Ran, this pretty boy?

So poor he was practically a beggar, yet still supporting this freeloading pretty boy.

He only keeps in touch with that pretty boy, Qi Ran.

Is Song Yuqing addicted to playing stepmom?

Pei Huai was in a terrible mood and felt like stringing Qi Ran up and giving him a beating.

Doesn't Song Yuqing care a lot about Qi Ran? He even threw hands for Qi Ran.

If he snags Qi Ran now, will Song Yuqing show up?

Since he cares so much about Qi Ran...

Pei Huai was scheming, his fingers unconsciously typing a line of text on the phone keyboard.

Song Yuqing had just hopped over the wall.

Hearing the notification sound from his phone, he coolly pulled it out to check the message.

Qi Ran: "Stepmom, you still want me?"

Author's note:

Qingqing: ? Another one lost it?

Qi Ran: Is that your stepmom? Who told you you could call her that?