Chapter 94 New Year’s Day Extra
When Hill and the Marshal travel to the modern era
Hill and the Marshal's time travel was a complete accident. They suddenly encountered a spatial collapse, an accident with a probability of one in ten thousand in the technologically advanced age of the Zerg. It just so happened that Hill and the Marshal encountered it.
At the last moment, Hill buried his head in Marshal Celtic's arms, his heart filled with a mixture of fear and peace.
He feared the approach of death, yet felt a strange sense of déjà vu, a feeling stemming from his numerous brushes with death during his youth.
But this time he was not alone; Marshal Celtic held him tightly the whole time.
"Death will step into my body first, and I will be waiting for you ahead."
His promise reassured Hill somewhat; with Marshal Celtic behind him and in front of him, he was no longer afraid.
As the final collapse engulfed him, he thought that if death is a long sleep, then sleeping in love is not painful at all.
However, he did not die. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the middle of nowhere. The trees were not much different from those on a normal habitable planet. There were grasslands and forests, and strangely shaped mountains in the distance.
Fortunately, they stayed together tightly and did not separate.
Celt looked at the wrecked airbags on the ground and made a decision: "This will likely alert the local inhabitants. I don't know the specifics of the situation here, so I'll take you away first."
As he spoke, he knelt before Hill, revealing his strong, reliable back and the prominent lines of his bones.
Hill disliked wearing shoes and was barefoot. Without hesitation, he climbed onto Celtic's back, wrapped his arms around Celtic's neck, and pressed his heart against Celtic's. Marshal Celtic always seemed to have a strong vitality, which greatly alleviated his fear of the unfamiliar environment.
Half an hour after they left, several staff members arrived, scribbling and drawing with pens in their mouths, relieved.
"This meteorite landed in the park, which is quite close to the residential area."
"Luckily no one was hit, we're really lucky."
"Hmm, isn't this shape a bit strange?"
"Aren't there many strange meteorites out there? You expect a perfectly square one to fall down?"
"Don't you think this looks a bit like a human figure?" The person hesitated, squatted down, and gestured with their hands.
"Then he must be Yao Ming, and he's quite tall."
"No matter who it is, they'll all turn to charcoal if they come down here."
After exchanging a few words, the group put up a sign to protect the scene and got into their car to go back for lunch.
"Don't you guys feel like someone's watching us?" The more perceptive one turned his head uncomfortably, a faint intuition in his mind.
“This is an open space. The nearest mountain is more than 500 meters away. You’re always so paranoid. You should go see a psychologist sometime.”
The car sped away, and at least five hundred meters away on the mountain, Celtic frowned thoughtfully.
These people all seem to be male? They are relatively short and don't have pheromones, so they don't seem to be Zerg.
The mode of transportation isn't a flying machine; it's from a planet with low-tech capabilities?
"Marshal, is this not a Zerg planet?"
Although Hill wasn't as perceptive as the female insects, the mental power of an S-class male insect could still reach a great distance, and he also heard the conversation of these unknown races.
"No matter where you are, I will take good care of you, so don't be afraid."
Even though he had been married for many years and had done everything, Hill couldn't help but blush slightly. He nodded and said, "I believe you."
For so many years, Celtic has taken good care of him. Even when he was very busy, he never made Hill feel unhappy. Even his adoptive father could not find any fault with him.
Celtic lifted Hill up a little higher, making his back more stable, and calmly walked down the mountain.
Regardless, they must enter society. Celts can survive in the mountains and forests, but male crickets need clean water, suitable food, and a soft living environment, which they must obtain from society.
Celt quickly discovered that this was a human-led race, similar in size to the Zerg males, but unable to transform into Zerg wings, and with many differences in their social structure.
This is an unfamiliar world. Most of the people around me have black hair and black eyes, wear simple and convenient clothes, and the currency for acquiring resources is mostly stored on mobile phones that resemble quantum computers.
However, these require proof of identity.
He and Hill are undocumented.
Without identification documents, one cannot participate in legitimate work or pay taxes. What kinds of jobs involve mostly cash transactions and do not require identification?
The answer is black money.
Celt is an insect with very strong mobility. Coupled with his tall and imposing stature and powerful aura, he looks like someone you don't want to mess with. Most people would immediately think he must be a gangster.
He quickly became familiar with the mixed crowd in the area and found a way into the black and gray industries in just two nights.
—Go fight in underground boxing matches.
This is a dangerous job. There's no need to sign a waiver of liability because he looks like a foreigner who has illegally entered the country. And since this place is by the sea, if he dies, just throw him into the sea, and there will be no way to prove it.
Hill's spiritual threads spread widely, and the chaotic streets were mostly dilapidated and densely populated. Everyone who could run away had run away, and those who remained were people who couldn't be moved.
Celtic just said he was going to look for a job, but how can he find a good job without legal status?
The night rain pattered softly, and Hill, wearing Celtic's coat, looked worried.
There are elderly people doing handicrafts late at night to supplement their family income, teenagers walking wearily through the alleys after a long day at work, and vendors arguing in front of fruit carts over a few cents.
Although Hill had never experienced hardship as a child, he was prepared to endure it.
Having just arrived, with no status and no money, he wouldn't hold Marshal Celtic back. He would also learn to save money, not buy expensive things, and reduce his material desires. He even had some cooking experience before.
I think I just overheard some old men passing by whispering that the vegetables are cheapest around 5 or 6 pm. It will definitely be tough at first, but he can endure hardship. Once he has explored the world thoroughly, he will go out and earn money. He can use his spiritual threads to heal people.
But since there are no spiritual threads in this world, he might be captured as a monster, which made Hill somewhat distressed.
Hill was preoccupied with how to save money in his life and felt that he had overheard a lot of practical life tips. Then, thirty minutes later, a car stopped outside and Celtic got out of the car after changing his clothes.
Much later, Hill learned that the car was a Bentley.
"Have you found a job yet? It's okay if you haven't..."
Hill spoke softly, preparing to comfort the determined Celt.
“Found it.” Celt bent down, and Hill reached out and was picked up by him with perfect ease.
The driver waiting outside looked shifty and paused for a moment when he saw the tall man holding a delicate-looking boy. He quickly realized what was happening and opened the car door for him.
"Hey, is this your younger brother? Does he have some kind of leg problem? Can't he walk? Is it serious? Don't worry, our boss has plenty of money. As long as you do a good job, treating his illness is a small matter."
Look at him, what a great henchman! Ruthless and taciturn, his actions are clean and efficient. He has no status or background, so he can be manipulated by anyone. More importantly, he has a weakness!
“My leg is fine,” Hill replied.
The driver's string of words came to an abrupt halt. He looked at the rearview mirror, bewildered, and asked, "Then why did you carry him into the car?"
Can't you walk if you're not sick? Do you think you're a princess who needs to be carried?
Celtic tightened his grip on Hill's waist, indicating that he didn't need to answer and there was no need to talk to him.
Hill blinked and, as expected, fell silent. He was unfamiliar with the place and didn't trust anyone else.
“It’s raining outside,” Celtic replied simply.
driver:"???"
Hill snuggled closer to Celtic, not understanding what he was surprised about. It was raining outside, and he didn't have any suitable shoes, so of course he needed Celtic to hold him.
Only after delivering Celt to the house the boss had just sent out did he shakily pick up his phone, light a cigarette, take a deep drag, and shout, "Boss, that really masculine and fierce guy you just hired, he's gay!"
How could he be gay?!
The image of poverty flashed through Hill's mind only briefly before he moved back into a spacious and bright house near the city center, with a magnificent night view downstairs. He was placed on a clean table, and Celt knelt down to wipe the rainwater that had accidentally dripped onto his feet.
The difference was too great; Hill was still a little dazed.
"You found a job so quickly? Is the job dangerous?" Hill pursed her lips.
He was aware that it was a high-risk, high-reward situation.
"It's alright, it can be resolved in two hours, and I can spend the rest of the time with you."
In reality, those low-level combatants could be dealt with in less than a minute, but sometimes it's necessary to fake a fight, which does take some time.
For Celtic, this was a very easy job.
Celt rose to fame in the underworld and quickly gained significant reputation and influence. Many people bet on him to win, but wouldn't it be a losing proposition if everyone bet on him to win?
The boss above him told him to fake a loss, which was a skill in itself. Marshal Celtic, who had never lost a game in his life, was beaten for half an hour for the first time he had ever faked a loss.
There's no way around it; if he hadn't played for so long, his loss would have seemed too fake, and no one would have believed it.
The high returns from faking losses were also significant; that very night, the boss made a fortune and drove off with a trunk full of money for him.
But Hill, in the spectator area, shed tears of heartache. He looked at the bruises on Celtic's body that would fade away overnight, buried himself in Celtic's arms at night, and used his spiritual threads to bind Celtic tightly, sobbing in Celtic's embrace.
Salty tears fell on Celtic's chest, and the little male insect tenderly kissed the wounds on his body.
He asked Celt, "Does it hurt?"
It didn't actually hurt that much. He had suffered severe injuries that tore half his body apart before, so this was nothing compared to those. But Hill had never seen those horrific injuries before, only this time did he see them.
Celtic sighed and stroked Hill's long silver hair: "With you here, I don't feel any pain."
Hill pulled Celt into his arms, secretly resolving that he too would earn money and not place the burden of supporting the family on a mere insect like the Marshal.
Celtic's eyes darkened, and he made up his mind in advance to remove the boss from his position.
The old man had been refusing to issue him and Hill identification documents. He had originally planned to figure out a few more details before doing so, but now that he had made Hill cry, that was an unforgivable sin.
Determined to earn money, Hill went out the next day. He didn't know how to apply for a job without identification, so he could only focus on looking at every job posting.
You need experience, but that won't work; I don't have any.
A first degree is required, so this won't work either.
This requires playing a musical instrument, which I can do! But you need to have a graded certificate, which I don't have.
Hill's eyes lit up and then dimmed, then went completely dark. He had been walking all afternoon and still hadn't found a suitable job.
He sighed, went to the milk tea shop next door, chose his favorite milk tea, paid in cash, and stood on the roadside somewhat dejectedly.
A cup of milk tea costs 30 yuan, and many people earn less than 30 yuan per hour. How can such a salary support the marshal's family and prevent him from doing dangerous work?
Hill looked worried, wondering if he should never drink milk tea again. But Marshal Celtic said that he should buy whatever he liked, and that if he didn't, he would feel that making money was meaningless.
Hill was struggling with his thoughts when he suddenly felt something flash in the glass, catching his eye.
He subconsciously frowned and wanted to leave, but someone rushed out from inside: "Hey! Young man! I'm an agent from Tianxing Entertainment! Are you interested in participating in our talent show?"
The jobs I've come up with are all illegal, and I can't find anyone.
"The preliminary round reward is 5,000! If you pass the second round, it'll be 30,000! There's no upper limit for the final election!"
Hill, who was about to leave, immediately turned around: "Really?!"
"Of course it's true," Lin Jian said, holding his chest and panting. He was tall and had long legs, so he walked fast. Lin Jian almost couldn't catch up with him. "Let me tell you, you're going to be famous. My god, the most popular guy right now, Qiao Jing, he's not even half as good-looking as you."
"Making money in the entertainment industry is fast."
How fast?
Facing Hill's pure gaze, Lin Jian patted his chest and guaranteed, "In China, besides the printing press, we're the fastest at making money."
That should be faster than Marshal Celtic, right?
Hill looked doubtful: "But there's a problem with my identity."
"Smuggling yourself in, huh? So what? Once you become famous, we'll take care of everything. This is our agreement, all the artists in our company have to sign it. It's normal to get a share of the income. We'll talk again once you become famous."
Hill flipped through a few pages and, finding nothing amiss, left his name on them.
Sear.
Lin Jian: What an innocent kid, he dared to sign it without even reading the agreement.
Hill: Anyway, it wasn't signed with my real name.
Both left satisfied. Hill didn't hide the fact that he had found a job. Celt had been coming home late lately, but every night he would come back with an explanation and bring him a gift.
“I have a feeling that person isn’t a good person, but it’s okay. He said he would pay me if I participated in the early stages. I don’t even have identification, so how can my signed documents be valid?” Hill nestled in Celt’s arms, her eyes crinkling.
Celt chuckled briefly, stroking Hill's soft, long hair, and said indulgently, "Yes, Your Highness is very clever."
"If you like it, you can use this name when you apply for an identity document in the future."
Hill was indeed very handsome, with deep blue eyes, silver hair, and a refined and dashing appearance. As expected, he became an instant sensation. Even before the general election, his fan base was growing rapidly. In addition, the fact that he had never had any news or scandals since childhood, despite the advanced internet, added to his mystery and successfully piqued everyone's curiosity.
How could such a mysterious and handsome young man suddenly appear out of nowhere?! We have to dig up some dirt on him! Even foreigners are no exception!
There really wasn't one, which is so frustrating! The level of attention skyrocketed.
In the entertainment industry, beautiful women are often in danger. Many people had their eyes on Hill, but Lin Jian never agreed. He told others that he was a good person, but in reality, he was waiting for a good partner.
Once they finally hooked a big shot, they quickly and efficiently dealt with Hill.
Fortunately, he remembered that Hill was fast, so he gave Hill some liquid beforehand. Hill was a little tipsy and was led by Lin Jian into a warm private room. It was very noisy inside. He pressed his forehead and a pair of hands reached out to him.
"Are you feeling dizzy? It's a bit noisy in here. I booked that private room inside. Would you like to come and rest there?"
The man was upright and had a good demeanor; no one could tell he harbored such sinister intentions. Hill was helped to his feet and staggered toward the bedroom.
The man had clean-cut features, and Hill looked somewhat familiar with him. It wasn't until they entered the room that the man revealed his sinister nature, locking Hill's wrist to the edge of the bed.
"I wanted to do this the moment I saw you in the audience. You're really hard to get. Why did you pretend to be so high and mighty after I asked you out so many times? Now you're in my bed, aren't you? I've locked you up, let's see how you run away."
The man lewdly patted Hill's face, leaving a mark on her cheek, and couldn't resist kissing her.
Hill tried to dodge but was viciously pulled back to face him. Just as that disgusting face was about to touch him, the door to the room was kicked open.
The next kick landed on the man's waist with inhuman force, slamming him against the wall with several cracking sounds that were indistinguishable as to whether bones were breaking or the wall was splitting.
Celtic, wearing a black trench coat and smoking a cigarette, with sharp and ruthless features, bent down and twisted the handcuffs with a snap.
He picked up the dazed Hill, stomped on the leg of the oblivious man, and the sound of bones cracking was chilling.
"I've said it before, you can't take Hill away from me. You couldn't last time, and you can't this time either."
The man behind her kept wailing. Celtic carried Hill into the car, and Hill was already sobbing uncontrollably, choking back tears as she sobbed.
“Right here.” Hill snuggled against Celt’s heart with a touch of stubbornness, knowing he wouldn’t be rejected.
He didn't want to wait, not even for a minute.
He was used to being pampered, and Celtic would always satisfy his desires and make him feel comfortable whenever he wanted. How could he possibly suffer like this?
He felt an indescribable flame surging within his body, burning his muscles and bones, and he couldn't bear the discomfort for even a moment longer.
Actually, there were times when he felt bad before, but it was different. Now that Celtic is by his side, he can't stand any grievances.
Celtic reached out and brushed aside Hill's sweaty hair, planting a kiss on his forehead. He had cut his hair short for the draft, making him look clean and neat, with a touch of youthful naiveté.
The underground parking garage was empty, so no one saw a long, slender hand, damp and pressed against the glass, occasionally producing noticeable vibrations.
"Hmm, what if... someone comes and sees us?"
Do you want to be seen?
"No... I don't like it..."
"Of course it will happen, so baby has to be patient."
"Hmm..."
Lin Jianxin was ruthless; he used a very strong dose of the drug. Hill was in a state of turmoil all night, constantly worried that someone would come, yet unable to resist the thrill of walking a tightrope.
It wasn't until midnight that the effects of the drug finally began to wear off, and no one entered the underground garage until Celtic started the car.
Hill felt unwell the next day and stayed in Celtic's arms until after noon. When he woke up, he saw Lin Jian's bombarding phone call.
Lin Jian roared in the voice chat: "You actually dared to hit President Bo?! And you dare to run away?! Xi'er, have you forgotten who made you famous? Do you know how much the breach of contract fee is? Twenty million! You wait! You wait!"
He screamed in the message, but when Hill called back, no one answered.
He only vaguely felt that the CEO Bo looked familiar, and when he opened the trending searches, he found that the top trending topic was that Bo Teng, the CEO of XX Entertainment, died in a car accident last night.
There was also a photo on it, and when he clicked on it, he found it was a familiar face.
—Albert.
No wonder he looked familiar. He wondered if Albert remembered the Zerg, but it was impossible to verify now; he was just a cold corpse.
Hill went back to work because he felt he should handle the contract himself and not bother Marshal Celtic.
On the first day back, the boy from the same audition group told him mysteriously.
“Our company was acquired, and Lin Jian, who was in charge of us, was fired. It’s said that he owes a huge amount of high-interest loans, which is why he’s been relentlessly exploiting us to get us on TV shows.”
"We don't even know who our new agent is."
"We've been notified of the new agent! It's a top agent in the industry!"
Wow, who bought our company? They're so wealthy and powerful!
"There's a variety show airing this afternoon, and the new boss seems to be coming. Xier, quickly familiarize yourself with the script, don't leave a bad impression on the big boss!"
Hill was too tired from yesterday's night to be very interested in these things. He has very strong mental power and can memorize a script with just a glance, so he doesn't need to put in much effort.
This meant that although he memorized the script, he couldn't understand it, and when he lost the game according to the script and changed into the sailor uniform, he was still completely confused.
The Zerg are a very feudal and conservative race. Even though there is no distinction between male and female Zerg after arriving in this world, Hill is certain that he only likes men, or more precisely, Celts. He has not studied the clothing of women in this world.
He had no idea the skirt would be so light, so thin, and so...short.
He instinctively tried to pull his skirt down to cover his fair legs, which only earned him gasps and laughter from the others.
"This is the punishment for losing the game. You'll have to dress like this for the rest of the show," the host teased him with a mischievous smile.
Hill instinctively looked towards a certain spot, knowing it would be useless, but this time he actually saw Celt in the audience.
Celtic crossed his legs, wearing a sharp black suit and an expensive black wristwatch. His hawk-like eyes were fixed on him, and when he saw Celtic looking over, he switched legs and pressed them down slightly.
Hill wanted to bury his face in the ground in shame, but Celtic showed no intention of helping him out.
There was no other way, so Hill had to finish the entire program wearing this overly short skirt. The thirty-minute program felt like thirty hours. During the intermission, he returned to the dressing room, but the makeup artist who was supposed to touch up his makeup never arrived.
The man who entered was Celtic, dressed in a sharp suit. He picked up Hill and placed him on the dressing table, then stroked the dejected little male.
"It looks great."
Hill pursed her lips, not wanting to talk to him.
Celtic looked down; the skirt was indeed very thin and short, and you could see the undergarments if you got close.
For some reason, he thought of a certain food advertisement that said it was ready to eat as soon as you open the lid.
He used the tip of his nose to lift the short, thin fabric.
Hill pushed twice but dared not make a sound. In the end, she could only bite her arm and let tears of suppressed emotion stream down her face.
He pressed his hand against the female insect's hair roots, and Celtic's hair seemed as cold and hard as the insect itself, pricking his palm painfully.
"You only have fifteen minutes, hurry up."
The break time was limited, and he couldn't waste too much time; he still needed to touch up his makeup.
His response was even more outrageous from Celtic. Hill gave a soft "hmm," then had to raise his hand to cover his lips, glistening tears welling in his eyes.
Celtic was punishing him for his inattentiveness, which he didn't want to do, but it was work time.
......
"What do we do now?" Hill leaned on the dressing table, a trace of blood still lingering in the corners of her eyes. "It's too late to wear it."
I should have taken it off. After all that fooling around, it was already unrecognizable. Just looking at it makes me feel ashamed.
“Then don’t wear it.” Celt had already tidied himself up. Compared to Hill’s messy appearance, he was still impeccably dressed, strong and calm. He simply grabbed Hill’s calf and removed the unnecessary items.
The wrinkled, soaked fabric was folded neatly and put into the pocket.
Should I just put it in my pocket?
A hint of shame crossed Hill's face; she avoided looking, yet couldn't help but steal glances.
“You put it in your pocket,” Hill said softly, pursing her lips. “What am I supposed to wear?”
“I won’t wear it.” Celtic pulled out a tissue: “Pull it open.”
Hill's eyelashes fluttered, and he did as he was told.
It took half a pack of tissues to clean up the little boy. Celt lifted him off the dressing table, and he leaned weakly against Celt. Celt held Hill's waist with one hand and carefully straightened the pleated blue hem of his skirt with the other.
A crumpled skirt is not easy to restore, but Celtic restored most of it as if straightening out a mess.
It really looks great, making her legs appear tall and slender. Every part of her looks like it was made by nature, and it doesn't affect her ability to do anything.
Finally, I took out a tissue to wipe between my fingers, completing the final step.
After tidying up, he kissed the apprehensive little male insect: "There's no one outside."
Author's Note:
Happy New Year everyone!! Never mind, I need to eat something sweet first [cat emoji]
There was no one around, and no one to wear anything, so I had to go out empty-handed in my sailor uniform. [cat emoji]
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