Side Story 2: Inhibitor
The following day, Lu Zhian went alone to the biotechnology company hidden in a high-end office building without telling Xiao Yuan.
After the receptionist announced the arrival, a young man in a dark red suit with a slightly sinister air came out to greet them. When he saw Lu Zhian, a hint of unsurprised amusement flashed in his narrow eyes.
“Designer, a rare guest.” Wen Ji smiled, as if he had expected him to come.
When Lu Zhian saw the company information yesterday, he realized that he knew Wen Ji and had even been cooperating with him. They could be considered acquaintances.
Lu Zhian had no interest in exchanging pleasantries with him. He slammed the empty syringe he had brought onto the coffee table in front of Wen Ji, his eyes cold: "You dare to let him use something like this so casually?"
Wen Ji raised an eyebrow, far from being intimidated, but instead enjoying Lu Zhian's suppressed anger with great interest, and slowly said, "Have you read his report? How do you think he managed to maintain that 'normal' appearance in front of you?" He deliberately emphasized the word "normal," with a hint of sarcasm.
Lu Zhian's expression darkened further.
Wen Ji shrugged, seemingly finding it amusing. He stood up and lazily gestured for him to come with him. "Come with me. I'll take you to see the doctor. He happens to be here today."
Wen Ji led Lu Zhian through several quiet corridors to an office marked "Special Physiological Research Center".
Pushing open the door, one enters a simple yet professional medical space. Behind the desk, a man in a white coat, with a gentle and calm demeanor, is looking down at a document. He looks up when he hears a noise.
"Dr. Mu, this Mr. Lu is here for President Xiao." Wen Ji introduced casually, then walked to the sofa and sat down, his posture relaxed, but his eyes remained fixed on Mu Zhao.
When Mu Zhao saw Lu Zhian, a knowing glint flashed in his eyes; he had already anticipated this. He put down the documents, stood up, took a thick report from the filing cabinet, and handed it to Lu Zhian.
“Mr. Lu, please have a seat.” Mu Zhao’s voice was gentle and soothing, but his professionalism was unquestionable. “This is Mr. Xiao Yuan’s comprehensive test report and physiological analysis.”
Lu Zhian took the report, his fingertips slightly cold. He opened it; inside were complex charts, hormone level data, and glandular imaging. Mu Zhao's calm voice sounded from the side, explaining to him:
“As you can see, Mr. Xiao has a fully developed special gland in his body, which we call the ‘pheromone gland.’ It periodically secretes highly influential pheromones, causing him to enter a ‘susceptible period.’ During this time, his nervous system is in a state of high excitement, exhibiting a strong sense of territory, destructiveness, and aggression. At the same time,” Mu Zhao paused, using precise and objective language, “he will have a craving for intimacy and marking far beyond the norm. This is essentially a pheromone-driven instinct seeking deep comfort and connection. During the susceptible period, his pheromones will leak out uncontrollably in large quantities.”
Looking at the abnormally fluctuating curves on the report, Lu Zhian recalled Xiao Yuan's occasionally unusually hot skin and uncontrolled strength.
“Normally, a full susceptible period will subside within a week,” Mu Zhao continued, his tone tinged with a serious concern. “But Mr. Xiao’s case is special. According to monitoring, he has long lacked a soothing pheromone that can effectively resonate with him, which has caused his susceptible period to not only be more severe in terms of symptoms, but also to be significantly longer and more unstable. Individuals like him, who possess high concentrations and high activity of pheromones and corresponding physiological and psychological traits, can be classified as ‘Alpha’.”
Lu Zhian looked up from the report at Mu Zhao, his voice hoarse: "So, that inhibitor..."
“Inhibitors can suppress pheromone peaks to some extent, helping him maintain necessary rationality and behavioral control to avoid uncontrollable consequences,” Mu Zhao explained. “But this is only symptom management, not a fundamental solution.”
The office was silent. Wen Ji sat on the sofa, resting his chin on his hand, a faint smile playing on his lips, as if he were enjoying a good show.
Mu Zhao observed Lu Zhian's tense profile, adjusted his glasses, and continued, "Physiologically speaking, there exists another type of individual called 'Omega.' Their pheromones can resonate with Alphas with a high degree of specificity, effectively sensing and soothing the Alpha's agitation and distress during their vulnerable periods. However, there is an undeniable biological fact here," his tone became serious, "that Alphas' pheromones and physiological characteristics have the ability to impregnate Omegas, regardless of gender."
Lu Zhian's knuckles turned white from clenching his fists, his lips pressed tightly together, and he became even more silent. Those fragments of memories, so intensely possessed, almost ingrained in his very bones, overwhelmed him.
Mu Zhao looked at him and finally made the judgment based on the existing information: "If you are completely unable to sense Mr. Xiao's pheromones and cannot elicit any physiological soothing response... then, based on the current classification, you are very likely to belong to the 'Beta' category. In the current social structure, the vast majority of ordinary humans belong to the Beta category. They do not possess the strong pheromones and dominance of Alphas, nor do they have the obvious periodic 'heat cycles' and corresponding fertility abilities of Omegas. Betas also secrete pheromones, but the concentration is extremely low, and they are usually released unconsciously, making it difficult to actively control or form strong and effective biological signal interactions."
Lu Zhian slowly closed the report and placed it back on the table. A cold sensation spread from his fingertips to his heart.
Therefore, Xiao Yuan was bearing the waves that he could not perceive on his own.
He stood up, not looking at the report again, nor at Wen Ji beside him who had a playful expression, but simply nodded to Mu Zhao, his voice low and hoarse: "Thank you."
He turned and left, his silhouette appearing somewhat frail in the corridor's light.
After the door closed, Wen Ji stood up from the sofa, walked to Mu Zhao's side, naturally wrapped his arm around Mu Zhao's waist, rested his chin on Mu Zhao's shoulder, and chuckled: "See? I told you he would come. This little designer cares about that snow leopard more than I thought."
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