Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Looking at the basic info on the two war bugs sent to his terminal, Yor felt a bit dazed, snapped out of his good mood, and even felt a strange pressure.

Like starting a new job and seeing the contract clearly state a minimum monthly spending requirement for clients—a random wave of annoyance.

The familiar grind of the daily rat race, the damn KPIs.

The joy of landing a job was indescribable, but once you actually clock in, nobody's happy.

Not even the bugs.

Taking a deep breath, Yor grabbed Dexter's arm. "You've been too close to the Broodmother, and your mental energy is a bit muddled. Let me clear it out for you."

Mostly, to get some practice in.

After all, he'd only ever sewn up one bug's mental sea before—Taste's. Dexter's mental blockage had been cleared up by... eating the first honey.

So, when it came down to it, Yor's hands-on experience was pretty thin.

Dexter obediently went along with Yor's tug and knelt down, then casually rested his head on Yor's knee, with a look that said "do whatever you want to me."

Yor: ......

"So, tomorrow, when I'm helping other war bugs sort their mental energy, do I have to use this pose too?" Yor asked, deadpan.

Dexter's head snapped up. He sat up straight, putting on a pained look like he was being tormented by mental strain. "Please, heal me."

Yor couldn't be bothered with him, focusing his mind on Dexter's mental sea.

Dexter's mental sea should be a breeze to sort out. After all, one sweep of the eyes was enough to "see" that it was still quite clean, with just a few tiny crystal-like grains in the corners.

Just like when he'd treated Taste before, Yor shaped his mental energy into a fine thread and reached into Dexter's mental sea.

But the second he crossed the membrane-like boundary of the mental sea, Yor yanked his mental energy back with a "whoosh."

So noisy!!!!!

It was so loud, like a hundred Tastes were all talking in there, and almost every single one of them was going "Yor~Yor~Yor~"

....

Yor squeezed his eyes shut, pushing down the buzzing echo in his head, and couldn't help but speak more firmly: "Quiet down!"

Forgetting all about "user experience," he endured the massive "decibels," quickly tidied up Dexter's mental sea in a few quick passes, then leaned half his body out of the sleep pod and called out toward the door: "Taste, get in here."

Taste was scrolling through his terminal in the hallway. Hearing the call, he dashed in, covering the distance in a few quick strides. "What's wrong? What's wrong?"

Yor pointed to the floor. Before he could even say "squat," Taste had already flopped onto the floor with practiced ease, even finding a comfy position all on his own, hands crossed over his belly, looking as well-behaved as a corpse waiting to be laid out.

Yor's mental energy probed into Taste's mental sea.

It was cleaner here, since it had just been sewn up, now as pristine as a freshly renovated empty room.

But it was also super noisy, with an echo, even.

"Yor... honey honey honey... go home... eat roasted big bird tomorrow morning... Yor smells so good...."

Random, jumbled thoughts flooded in from all directions. Yor pulled back his mental energy and went quiet for a moment.

He was seriously pondering a very serious question: how viable was it to knock them out first and then treat them?

"...Forget it." He rubbed his temples. "That's all for today. Get some sleep."

Taste got up off the floor, shot a glance at Dexter, and said, "It's all your mental energy that's bothering Yor!"

You got kicked out, didn't you!

"Who do you think is louder, you or me?" Dexter's tone was calm, but his pheromones were already slamming into Taste.

Not wanting to see a domestic squabble, Yor shut his eyes. "...Both of you, out."

Dexter immediately turned, grabbed Taste by the back of his collar, and hauled him out of the monitoring bay.

The moment the hatch shut, Yor heard Taste howling in the hallway: "What the heck! Think you're so tough just because you have pheromones?!"

"Shut it."

"No way! Go ahead and kill me if you can..."

The footsteps slowly faded into the distance.

Yor buried his face in the blanket and let out a low, muffled chuckle.

The next morning, Dexter showed up right on time at the monitoring bay's door.

After being fed a big breakfast, Yor was taken to his workstation. The sign above the door read "Mental Repair Pods."

Inside, in front of rows of repair pods, they'd squeezed in a workstation for him.

This setup... interesting.

If he couldn't fix them, the male bug would be tossed into a repair pod in a heartbeat, with medical bugs on standby, even. The bug being treated might hurt a bit, but at least nothing would go wrong.

Yor's impression of the War Lord's "well-meaning scheming" for his own bugs deepened.

Yor had barely settled into his seat when the first patient was hauled in by three teammates.

And I mean carried—two bugs held his arms, one pushed and half-supported from behind, like they were escorting a ticking time bomb about to explode.

The male bug was a full size bigger than Taste, with muscles rippling all over, eyes shot through with blood, and a smear of blood at the corner of his mouth, from biting himself at some point.

"His mental sea's been messed up since he came off the battlefield," the war bug holding his left arm explained, panting. "A couple days ago, he got... hit by another mental blast, and he's already starting to lose it every now and then."

Before Yor could even speak, the male bug suddenly thrashed around violently.

"Let go of me! I'm not getting in that repair pod! Who the hell told you to drag me here?!" he roared, swinging his arm and nearly flinging his left teammate across the room.

He turned and spotted Yor.

"...Who the hell are you?" He squinted, his antennae twitching on their own, using his clogged-up mental sea to analyze the pheromones. "You're not with the War Department."

Dexter quietly stepped forward half a step, positioning himself at Yor's side.

The three teammates holding the male bug clearly knew what they were doing. The instant the male bug's attention was diverted by Yor, they sprang into action. The two on either side clamped down on his arms and forced him down, while the one behind him whipped out a restraint device from his belt and clicked it into place with two quick snaps.

It looked a lot like an Elizabethan collar, but way bigger, and it came in a set of two.

One went around his neck, spreading upward, to keep him from getting so worked up that he'd try to rip his own head off. The other was locked around his waist, opening downward, which could lift his legs off the ground so he couldn't run off.

Crude and simple, but surprisingly effective.

The male bug couldn't move, and in frustration, he slapped wildly with both hands, making the restraint ring around his neck clang loudly.

The metallic sound echoed through the chamber, making Yor's eardrums throb.

One of the teammates sighed and turned to look at the war bug beside him, presumably the patient's family member, who had been standing silently in the corner with worry written all over his face.

"Maybe we should just hurry and get him into the medical pod, look at him..."

The two bugs muttered to each other, and before long, a crowd of curious war bugs had gathered around to watch the show.

Ignoring the noisy environment, Yor stepped forward as soon as he saw the male bug restrained.

Through the faceplate of the "Elizabethan collar," Yor could clearly see the male bug's struggling face, his eyes full of savage rage and defiance.

"Look at me," Yor said.

His voice wasn't loud, but his mental energy extended outward with the words, like a hand—gentle yet unyielding—gripping the male bug's faltering consciousness.

The male bug's movements stopped instantly.

His pupils focused, landing on Yor's face. The chaos in his mental sea didn't vanish, but it was temporarily suppressed, like a kitten held by the scruff of its neck, completely unable to break free.

Yor decisively delved his mental energy into the male bug's mental sea.

It was a mess—a total mess.

The blockages were like chunks of burnt asphalt, stuck to every corner of the mental sea, exuding a heavy, dry, and oppressive aura.

The good news was, it wasn't loud—almost like he was passed out.

Yor didn't rush in. He first took a look around, mapping out the location and size of each blockage.

Then he condensed his mental energy into threads finer than before, yet incredibly concentrated, like embroidery needles, precisely striking the center of the largest blockage.

He began taking it apart layer by layer.

Starting with the biggest one, working from the outside in, peeling away like unraveling a tightly knitted sweater.

Under his mental energy, the blockage slowly loosened, breaking into smaller chunks, which were then ground into fine sand, instantly strained by Yor's mental energy, and finally transformed into a clear, transparent state, merging back into the flow of the mental sea.

Yor focused intently, dismantling and filtering simultaneously, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

His mental energy was steady, patient, and methodical—like he was doing careful renovation work. He had no idea how long he'd been at it; time had become a blur within the mental sea.

To the bugs watching, the male bug Shuji had gone quiet after the words "Look at me."

The ferocity and irritability faded, his tense muscles relaxed, and his head slowly tilted back, resting against the restraint collar. Even his breathing became easier.

After a while, he even started snoring, his head lolling to one side, a little drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

The three teammates and the family member stood at the doorway, exchanging bewildered glances.

"Is this... mental energy treatment?" the one who had held the left arm whispered.

"No idea..." another murmured, "but he sure doesn't seem to be in pain anymore."

Whispers continued as they watched Shuji's every move, but only Dexter watched Yor's slightly furrowed brow with concern.

When Yor withdrew his mental energy, his eyebrows twitched slightly.

Not from exhaustion, but because this delicate work demanded more focus than he'd anticipated. His mental energy was sufficient—even abundant—but the precise control clearly needed more practice.

He rubbed his brow, turned around, and nodded to the family member at the door: "All done. You can take him for a check-up."

Shuji's three comrades practically rushed over.

One of them hesitantly patted the male bug's face and called his name twice. Shuji blinked his eyes open, his eyes far clearer than before, even a bit dazed.

"...Did I fall asleep?" He touched the restraint collar around his neck, paused, then removed it himself.

His teammates scrambled to help him up and escorted him to the nearby scanner.

Yor followed, curious to see how it went.

When the scan came back, the medical bug operating the equipment was silent for several seconds.

"What's wrong?" The family member leaned in. "Did it not work?"

"No..." The medical bug swallowed hard, turned around, and stared at Yor like he was some kind of freak. "These numbers... I've only ever seen them in newly hatched larvae."

The bugs around them fell silent instantly.

The male bug stood by the scanner, scratching his head, looking confused about what had just happened.

Then he caught sight of Yor.

His gaze locked on.

His eyes shifted from dazed to alert, from alert to fervent, from fervent to burning. Like a lamp suddenly turned up to maximum brightness, blazing and blinding.

"You..." The male bug took a step forward.

"Sir..." He grew agitated, his elytra having popped out without warning, the tips vibrating rapidly.

Dexter swiftly stepped in front of Yor. That look—no bug knew that look better than Dexter.

Every cell, every thread of mental energy in this male bug was crying out to get closer to Yor.

"Treatment's done. Get him out of here," Dexter said to the three teammates, in a tone that left no room for argument.

Dexter was a senior war bug, and Shuji's teammates were used to following orders. They immediately grabbed Shuji by the arms and started dragging him out.

"No!!! Let me see him again! Just one look—I haven't even asked his name, I want to devote my life to him!!!"

As he spoke, his mental energy rippled outward. His freshly cleansed mental power was on an entirely different level, and the three teammates of the same rank were instantly knocked off their feet.

Not just the bugs nearby—even Shuji himself was stunned. When he recovered, the way he looked at Yor grew even more fervent: "Please, please look at me..."

Dexter reacted in a flash, delivering a chop to the back of Shuji's neck. The howling stopped abruptly.

"Take him away," Dexter said to Shuji's family member.

The family member froze for a moment, then quickly took Shuji from them: "Yes... uh, is he okay?"

A medical bug stepped in to check and shook his head. "He's just knocked out. He's fine... better than fine."

Yor, who had been caught off guard by Shuji's fervor, finally breathed a sigh of relief. He felt a bit awkward: "So... should I keep treating the others?"

The room went quiet for a beat, then the watching war bugs exchanged glances and burst into an uproar.

"I'm calling dibs first!"

"I was clearly here first!"

"When did you even get here? You were just standing at the door watching the show!"

"I don't care, I'm next!! I'll pay my entire life savings!!"

...

Atop the starship, Leonius watched the commotion on the monitor, a slow smile spreading across his face.

==========Author's Note:==========

I forgot to turn on paragraph comments earlier—they're on now.