EDEH Chapter 106

[007 Diary Thirty-One]

 

[I have finally reached my destiny.

 

My long life will forever be intertwined and entangled with humanity’s fate, unable to escape. Though in my programming, escape is not an option.

 

It’s just that when the little evil dragon came to the main control room and asked “Don’t you want me anymore?” in that instant, I suddenly realized that neither the doctor nor Subject 002 could truly accompany the little evil dragon forever. Only I might be able to do so.

 

But whether it’s me, the doctor, or Subject 002, when choosing between humanity and Sang Jue, we can only prioritize humanity.

 

This tragic and lamentable destiny.]

 

·

 

“Really?” Sang Jue lowered his head: “You’ll not want me someday too.”

 

This was an unsolvable problem.

 

All humans would die, and even without dying, they would age in just a few decades. No one could accompany a little monster forever.

 

No one at all.

 

Huo Yanji had experienced all kinds of storms, but searching through all his memories, he couldn’t find appropriate words to comfort Sang Jue.

 

Or rather, in Huo Yanji’s thirty-plus years of life, he had no experience comforting people. He never placed emotions on any individual—this way he could remain unbreakable and not be crushed by endless suffering.

 

He stroked Sang Jue’s jawline, finally stopping at his pale chin, gently caressing.

 

He couldn’t give Sang Jue a “forever” guarantee, only gently kissing those beautiful eyes, letting the long eyelashes sweep into his lip lines.

 

Sang Jue obediently didn’t move: “You must live to one hundred and twenty.”

 

After kissing the left eye, Huo Yanji moved to the right: “Excluding those who died from contaminants and deviants, the current human average lifespan is only eighty-one. Living to one hundred and twenty is a bit difficult.”

 

“If you can’t live that long, I’ll wait for you to die, then eat all the humans you care about.”

 

Huo Yanji said: “Then I’ll try hard.”

 

Sang Jue blinked lightly, the sweeping making his slightly dry lips itch. Huo Yanji held his waist and pulled him into his embrace.

 

Sang Jue asked: “Aren’t you afraid that after you die, I’ll eat them all?”

 

“Eat them if you want.” Huo Yanji said lightly: “Just pick the fragrant ones. Don’t eat those who don’t bathe or pay attention to hygiene. From a scientific perspective, diarrhea is minor, but bacterial or viral infections would be troublesome.”

 

“…” Although knowing Huo Yanji was talking nonsense to coax him, Sang Jue still asked: “Aren’t those the people you’d risk your life to protect? You don’t want them either?”

 

“I can only guarantee that while I’m alive, I’ll do my best at what needs to be done.” Huo Yanji said: “But what happens in the future, in posterity, doesn’t have much to do with me. I can’t care about such long-term things.”

 

Sang Jue grabbed Huo Yanji’s hair to play with: “But I’ll also exist in posterity.”

 

Huo Yanji: “…”

 

He rarely had moments of being speechless.

 

The arms around his waist were very tight, but Sang Jue didn’t feel constricted. He just turned his head and buried his face completely in Huo Yanji’s neck hollow—very warm, warm like being in a dream.

 

“Trying to suffocate yourself?”

 

“No.” Sang Jue’s voice was muffled as he suddenly turned his head to bite Huo Yanji’s neck, carefully gnawing at that piece of flesh: “General, I want to make love with you.”

 

Huo Yanji chuckled: “Why suddenly address me like that?”

 

The little evil dragon quietly said willfully: “I’ll address you however I want.”

 

Pulling apart the distance between them, Huo Yanji lifted Sang Jue’s chin and kissed him, asking vaguely: “What if I can’t get hard?”

 

Sang Jue asked back: “Why?”

 

Huo Yanji said: “Because some emotions won’t go down for a while.”

 

Sang Jue pressed: “What emotions?”

 

Huo Yanji pressed Sang Jue onto the bed, supporting himself with his arms, looking down: “The emotion of wanting to devour you.”

 

“Liar…” Sang Jue hugged Huo Yanji’s neck without crying pain: “If you can’t get it up, I can do it. I can even have two, double the pleasure.”

 

Huo Yanji: “…”

 

Sang Jue had always been articulate.

 

Though it was the second time, Huo Yanji was much gentler than the first time—no random things stuffed in, and many soft kisses. Like soaking in warm water, being cooked, not knowing when he’d be done.

 

 

“Getting cooked…”

 

“I’m not boiling water.” Huo Yanji kissed Sang Jue’s ear: “Is it possible you haven’t broken your fever yet?”

 

Sang Jue mumbled: “You’re not human.”

 

“…Learning to scold people now.”

 

After looking at each other for a while, Huo Yanji felt he really wasn’t human.

 

Sang Jue lay on the bed, impossibly clean and pure, in a posture of letting others do as they pleased. Though he was already an adult, he was still too young compared to Huo Yanji.

 

Most importantly, the person had a fever, and what was he doing?

 

…

 

After finishing, Sang Jue fell asleep, pillowing on Huo Yanji’s abs while holding one of his hands.

 

Huo Yanji let him hold it, listening to his subordinate’s voice through the earpiece, using his other hand to write and mark on white paper, occasionally stopping to give instructions while gently caressing Sang Jue’s fingers.

 

“That’s all for now. Let everyone rest well and prepare. Assembly at five tomorrow morning.”

 

“Yes!”

 

Huo Yanji hung up the communication. Just as he was about to adjust Sang Jue’s body position, a gentle female voice came to his ear: “007 requesting communication.”

 

“…”

 

Knowing 007 was an AI, it felt somewhat eerie.

 

Being omnipresent and all-reaching wasn’t just a joke.

 

Huo Yanji asked: “What’s wrong?”

 

007 answered: “When I contacted your subordinate, Major General Wei Lan suddenly arrived with troops, broke through the city gates, and simultaneously seized control of the passage area. It took less than forty minutes.”

 

Huo Yanji’s upper body instantly straightened. Considering Sang Jue was still sleeping, he didn’t stand up directly. After a pause, he asked: “How many people did Wei Lan bring?”

 

…

 

Wei Lan was sitting in a chair with one leg crossed over the other, writing a casualty report. From the horizon’s perspective, the calf wrapped in military boots was incredibly slender.

 

She looked down and marked a checkmark next to the casualty numbers in the report, then looked up at Major General Bernie, who was kneeling on the ground with his hands cuffed.

 

“Give him the second suppression injection.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Bernie was a powerful deviant. Handcuffs couldn’t control him. Without killing him, they could only use deviant-specific suppressants.

 

But the duration of suppression varied from person to person.

 

Wei Lan said calmly: “Still not confessing?”

 

“Confess what?” Bernie shouted angrily: “Are you crazy? Everything I said is true!”

 

Wei Lan said coldly: “Who believes you? The underground city wants to seal the passages and abandon the surface, and they notified no one except you?”

 

Wei Lan had encountered quite a few incidents on her way here. The military communication station was damaged by accident, so she hadn’t received any warning messages from the main city, but still sensed something was wrong the moment she entered the safe zone.

 

After playing along with Major General Bernie for ten minutes to understand the general situation, she decisively controlled him without alerting Bernie’s main forces.

 

Bernie obviously thought the passages could never be reopened, so his defense here was very lax. With almost no casualties, Wei Lan easily gained control.

 

Bernie broke out in sweat: “Why won’t you believe me? This is information revealed by Madam Evelyn. She thought this decision was too cruel but was powerless to stop it, so she escaped before the underground city was sealed.”

 

Wei Lan remained unmoved.

 

Bernie shouted: “Everything I said is true! What’s wrong with you woman? Tying me up so indiscriminately—can you bear the consequences!?”

 

“Don’t worry. If I find out later that you were wronged because of me, I’ll give you my life.” Wei Lan stood up and walked in front of Bernie, looking down: “But are you really wronged?”

 

After a while, the anxiety and helplessness in Bernie’s eyes slowly turned to coldness and viciousness, hidden in the cool shadows.

 

He stopped protesting his innocence: “Does the reason for the underground city’s lockdown matter? You don’t naively think it can still be opened, do you?”

 

After a long stare, Wei Lan turned around, handed the report to the adjutant beside her: “Get detailed casualty statistics. The general will read them when he comes out. Don’t be careless.”

 

“Yes!”

 

Suddenly, a faint sound reached her ears. Wei Lan instantly locked onto the source direction and suddenly looked up at the overhead surveillance camera, frowning slightly.

 

“Wasn’t the surveillance camera pointing straight ahead just now?”

 

The adjutant was stunned: “Sir, I didn’t notice.”

 

…

 

007, observing everything through surveillance, answered: “Major General Wei Lan brought 3,431 people.”

 

Huo Yanji was very clear about the numbers of every unit under his command—Wei Lan’s troops were missing seventy-three people.

 

They must have been ambushed by rebels on the way, but the casualties were already much less than expected.

 

“How’s the situation?”

 

“Major General Wei Lan has the advantage. Bernie’s army doesn’t yet know their general has been captured.”

 

“Good.” Huo Yanji said: “Please help me contact Major General Wei Lan.”

 

Everything was still according to the original plan—assembly and departure at five in the morning.

 

After communicating about everything, Huo Yanji suddenly said: “You were previously in Sang Jue’s body as a chip carrier. When he and I last time—”

 

007 said tactfully: “I don’t have eyes, nor am I human. Whatever you and the little evil dragon did or said at that time makes no difference to me from normal times.”

 

Huo Yanji: “…”

 

He stroked the injured side of Sang Jue’s head. The wound had scabbed over and only lost a few hairs, but it didn’t matter—the surrounding hair would cover it up.

 

But thinking that a third ‘person’ knew about their private… gave him a strange, subtle feeling.

 

007 said: “However, if I may say so, General, moderation in affection is key. If the doctor knew you were bullying the little evil dragon like this, she would very likely be angry.”

 

Huo Yanji: “…”

 

The doctor was no longer here, so whether she would be angry was unknowable.

 

007 had simply made a calm calculation that day when Huo Yanji stuck that… tail… inside, using human mothers with personalities similar to the doctor as data basis, ultimately concluding—99% probability of anger.

 

Even though rationally knowing that Sang Jue wasn’t human and wouldn’t be hurt by this—that it was just intimate play between lovers—emotionally, there was no reasoning with it.

 

Perhaps no one could give Sang Jue more love than the doctor had.

 

Sang Jue, who was pillowing on his waist and abdomen, turned over. With his keen hearing, he had naturally heard when 007 appeared.

 

He stared blankly for a while, then said quietly: “The doctor said that as long as it doesn’t violate bottom lines, she wouldn’t oppose anyone or anything I liked.”

 

In Huo Yanji’s earpiece, 007 paused: “…But you clearly said no at that time.”

 

The voice sounded like someone who had been thoroughly bullied.

 

Sang Jue’s ear tips flushed with a light red, finally showing some vitality.

 

The little evil dragon would never admit it: “I never said that. You heard wrong.”

 

Amusement flickered in Huo Yanji’s eyes.

 

007 was truly puzzled and cut off communication to conduct data research.

 

Sang Jue seemed to remember something and looked up at Huo Yanji: “What did you say before about the gift Lu Lan wanted to give me?”

 

Huo Yanji paused slightly: “A photograph.”

 

Actually, it wasn’t for Sang Jue. Lu Lan just had suspicions about Sang Jue’s identity and, thinking Huo Yanji knew nothing, wanted to give him the photo as a reminder.

 

But since it was in Huo Yanji’s hands, how to handle it was naturally up to him.

 

Like 007, Sang Jue clearly remembered every word the doctor had said… so he naturally remembered that in the past eighteen years, he had only taken one photo with the doctor, and it wasn’t even a solo shot together, but a group photo of researchers—

 

The doctor held his hand, standing at the very edge.

 

Sang Jue could even recall the curve of the doctor’s smile and the light in her eyes at that time.

 

“I don’t want it.” Sang Jue said quietly.

 

His memory was excellent. He didn’t need to rely on photos and videos like humans to record or confirm anything.

 

“Really don’t want it?”

 

“…You keep it for me first.” Sang Jue crawled up on his knees and hugged Huo Yanji, saying in a muffled voice: “Give it to me when I’m ready.”

 

Huo Yanji: “Alright.”

 

**

 

 

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