Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The Broodmother was annihilated, and the War Department's starship set off. Since a bunch of family bugs had boarded, this trip wouldn't head straight to the front lines, but instead return to the War Department's home planet as planned.

The farther they got from the Purification Department, the more relaxed Yor felt.

In the monitoring cabin, he was lounging lazily in a sleep pod, browsing the test subject support forum while listening to Taste chatter on.

Yes, Taste was there too.

Apparently, given Taste's recent run of terrible luck—getting cut in half on the battlefield, then nearly dying again and again from a huge tear in his mental sea—Dexter had, for the first time ever, granted him permission to enter the monitoring cabin and keep Yor company.

Taste gladly accepted this important duty, then proceeded to badmouth his brother as usual.

"He was on guard outside the Broodmother's nest—how could he not know what happened to the war bugs they sent in? When I got sent in, he didn't even give me a heads up!"

"Sure, he brought you over in time to save me, but that was way too dangerous! The Purification Department was still there! If they'd caught you..."

Even though Taste was noisy, his voice had so many ups and downs—it was lively and entertaining.

"Mm."

"Is that so?"

"Really..."

Yor just had to give him half his attention, responding occasionally, and Taste would keep rambling on with all his energy.

Back on Blue Star, when Ling Yue was home alone, he used to leave the TV on—not even watching it, just wanting background noise so the room wouldn't feel so empty.

Now Taste served that same purpose.

As for Yor himself...

After swallowing that fragment of the Broodmother's mental imprint and getting a little payback on the Purification Division Lord, he felt refreshed—but immediately noticed that familiar aching sensation creeping back.

Luckily, the test subject support forum was a thing now, with tons of test subjects sharing their experiences.

After reading a few posts, Yor quickly figured out he was dealing with what the forum called "pheromone imbalance"—in simple terms, the Broodmother genes were taking over again.

The symptoms were obvious: his waist around the brood sac was sore and weak, his honey glands were swollen and sore to the touch, and if he didn't deal with it soon, they'd get painfully swollen. And the most annoying part...

During this time, he'd really crave male bugs.

Like right now—even though Taste was ranting about his brother, that meant he kept bringing up Dexter's name.

Every time he said it, Yor couldn't help his thoughts drifting to Dexter.

"...Dexter was standing guard outside the nest..." Guarding in name only, but really sneaking peeks at the monitoring room's supply data...

"...his mental sea was falling apart, and Dexter didn't even tell me..." Dexter's mental sea was all clean and clear, but it was full of bad thoughts like "eat me"...

Speaking of eating—that day Dexter was lying there naked on the cold floor, that high-tier male bug build, those muscles, those lines...

Yor rubbed his fingers together: "Mm... Dexter feels so..."

Taste's passionate ranting came to a screeching halt. He looked like a chicken with its neck wrung, staring at Yor in disbelief.

Realizing he'd accidentally said that out loud, Yor felt a bit embarrassed—but Taste's pheromones were just too much...

No matter how cute he was, he couldn't stop the pheromones from screaming "This one's useless! This one's useless!" inside Yor's head.

Yor cleared his throat, trying to push those messy images out of his head.

"Nothing, keep going." He held his terminal up a little higher, pretending nothing had happened.

Taste wasn't so easily fooled. He squinted, leaning his face in close to Yor's like a hound catching a weird scent: "What did you mean by 'Dexter feels'? Feels what? Have you touched him? When? Where? How come I didn't know about this?"

The questions came at him rapid-fire, and Yor's eyes started to wander.

He dropped his eyes, staring hard at the terminal screen, fingers scrolling through the forum aimlessly: "...I meant, Dexter's slacking off at work..."

Taste was even more confused. "What fish? Where'd a fish come from?"

Damn alien bugs. Damn cultural barriers.

Yor switched the subject without missing a beat. "Your pheromones are way too loud."

Taste was immediately distracted. He lowered his head and sniffed himself hard, looking bewildered: "I don't have pheromones."

Taste definitely had pheromones—but losing the ability to sense pheromones meant he also couldn't put out pheromones that male bugs could pick up, and couldn't use them to project pressure and scare enemies in combat anymore.

But the pheromones the Broodmother picked up were totally different.

Every time Taste got close, that "useless trash" reminder buzzed in Yor's head, loud and annoying.

But that did remind Yor of something.

He switched back to the forum and typed "pheromone imbalance relief" into the search bar.

There were all kinds of methods.

Some said cold compresses, some said neutralizing shots, and some said just go find a male bug to take care of it...

Yor skipped that last option completely.

He scrolled down a few pages and found a post labeled "cheap DIY." He clicked in: warm compress on the brood sac area, plus a low-concentration pheromone neutralizer, twice a day for a week to ease the symptoms.

Neutralizer. He kept searching.

The War Department's med bay had some, but... he was broke.

Taste was still mumbling next to him when Yor suddenly spoke up: "Taste, those bugs with mental sea damage like yours—if I helped fix them up, would they pay me?"

"Of course they would!" Taste answered without thinking. If they didn't get it fixed, they'd die—only an idiot wouldn't pay for that. But...

"You... aren't you scared of exposing your mental power?"

Yor was quiet for two seconds.

The War Department seemed different from the Purification Department, but at the end of the day, they were all bugs.

"...Forget it." He put the terminal down, rolled over, and buried his face in the sleep pod's soft cushion, his voice muffled. "I'll figure out another way."

Taste tilted his head, watching him for a moment, then leaned in and whispered: "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You're definitely not okay." Taste's tone was sure. "You've had that look on your face ever since we got on the starship."

His expression looked like he was about to cry.

So what? It's not like he could afford the medicine anyway.

Yor buried his face deeper into the cushion.

Just then, the cabin door slid open, and Dexter walked in carrying a tray.

Taste shot up from his chair like he was spring-loaded, standing at attention, his expression instantly switching from "I'm worried" to "I didn't do a thing."

Dexter didn't even glance at him, instead addressing Yor, who had looked up at him: "Here's your nutritional meal—see if it's to your liking."

This was the most popular meal combo among the dependent bugs in the cafeteria.

Yor glanced at it—perfectly normal grilled meat and veggies, way better than the squirming novelty dishes Taste had ordered.

He sat up from the cushion and took the tray. "Thanks."

His fingertips brushed Dexter's, and they both froze for a second.

Yor quickly pulled his hand back, grabbed the drink from the tray, and took a sip.

It was sickeningly sweet, ice cubes clinking against the cup.

Taste's gaze darted between the two of them, and three seconds of silence hung in the air.

"What are you two hiding from me, exactly?" Taste finally couldn't hold it in anymore, a hint of whine in his voice. "Why are you two acting so weird?"

Seeing Yor with his head down pretending not to hear, Taste jabbed a finger at Dexter's nose. "Just now Yor said something like 'Dexter feels...'—what's he feel like?"

Yor couldn't play dumb any longer. On top of that, with his pheromones out of whack, he couldn't help but flash back to Dexter lying on his side that day. The red at the tips of his ears spread all the way down his neck.

Dexter paused for a moment, but still ignored Taste. Instead, he knelt down in front of Yor.

It was the same familiar double-knee kneel, that grave-worshipping posture that made Yor's mind wander for a second—until Dexter's next words snapped him back.

"So... wanna watch me take a shower?"

Yor clapped a hand over his mouth, then realized—he hadn't even said anything!

He stammered out, "What?"

Dexter also realized he'd been a bit out of nowhere. He explained softly, "Last time you said not to take off clothes casually."

But showering was a different story.

Taste's eyes were practically popping out of his head.

His mouth hung open, his finger moving from Dexter's nose to the back of his brother's head. His lips trembled for a long time, but nothing came out.

Dexter knelt perfectly upright, showing no embarrassment, his expression as calm as if he were giving a work report.

He just raised his head slightly, and in his eyes looking at Yor, there was nothing but anticipation and eagerness.

Yor felt his brain short-circuit for a second.

He wanted to say "no need," wanted to say "is that even something to say," wanted to say "Taste is still here"—and that last thought made him swallow his words.

Taste was still right there.

"...You... stand up first." Yor's voice was a little shaky.

Dexter looked a little disappointed. He stood up, hands hanging at his sides, like a big dog waiting for its next command.

Taste finally cracked. He struggled for a moment, then spat out the most vicious word he could think of: "...Pervert!"

Dexter remained unfazed. "I'm just asking. It's not like I'm forcing him to watch."

"What's the difference?!"

"The difference is, the choice is Yor's."

Taste was speechless.

He felt like something was off, but couldn't quite say what.

Yor buried his face in his hands and let out a deep sigh.

His gestation sac wasn't just sore—it was tingling... The heat of his pheromone imbalance and the images involuntarily popping into his head left him a restless mess.

Dexter was talking to Taste, but kept his eyes on Yor the whole time. That gaze was overwhelming, and Yor felt completely exposed.

"...Get out." Yor squeezed the words out through his fingers. "Both of you, out."

Taste huffed, grabbed Dexter's arm, and dragged him out.

Dexter stumbled a bit from the pull, but stopped at the cabin door. "If you need anything, just let me know." He paused. "Anything at all."