Chapter 14
The optimal distance for exchanging information with a male insect is 1.5 to 3 meters. This distance is not likely to frighten the male insect, while still allowing you to display your composure.
Eric calculated the distance with great precision: four meters, three meters!
Eric took a deep breath, preparing to speak. For some reason, he seemed to smell the male insect's pheromones—a fresh and sweet scent. Only the pheromones of high-level male insects could spread so far, making female insects unconsciously thirsty.
Good afternoon, Your Excellency.
"Beep beep—"
At that moment, the quantum computer on the arm suddenly emitted an untimely vibration.
She really wanted to crush him, but her instincts as a female soldier still made him subconsciously open up.
This is the latest order issued by the military: there are abnormal fluctuations in the nearby star system, and the 61st Team is urgently dispatched to conduct surveillance and search.
Team Leader: Eric.
At the same time, Hill's personal computer also lit up.
Hill's personal terminal has only one name pinned to the top: Marshal.
Marshal: Come up here.
As simple as ever.
The Marshal had indeed seen him! Hill's heart pounded. He looked toward the floor where the Marshal was and immediately set off. After taking a couple of steps, he felt it wasn't right not to reply, so he turned back and politely said, "Is there anything we can talk about another time? I have urgent business to attend to and need to leave now."
"Of course..."
Your voice was very obedient, and Eric even stuttered a little. The insect's gaze followed the male insect completely until his figure disappeared at the elevator entrance, and he was still unable to come back to his senses.
He used to hear married female insects talk about how male insects seemed to be bewitched, and he completely believed it was due to pheromones. But after meeting you today, he suddenly realized that those military females made a lot of sense.
Many of the female soldiers present almost started cursing.
"Damn it, why did it have to happen at this time?!"
"These damned star beasts should all be smashed to pieces!"
"None of my business. Damn, I'm going back to the dorm."
"So eager to get back to the dorm? Did you just take a picture of your back? Share it with me—"
A few questions were interspersed among them: "According to the military's schedule, it should be the 4th and 32nd teams this time, so why is it Eric's 6th team?"
"Something unexpected might have happened. Isn't that normal in the military? Poor Eric, he's so upset he's gone mad, not moving at all."
"It's also possible that it's because it's too close to you and can't move now."
A burst of ambiguous laughter erupted downstairs at the military headquarters. Eric, usually hot-tempered, remained silent, his face flushed.
11 p.m.
After completing his extra patrol, Eric quickly returned to the warship and learned from his colleagues that Lord Male Insect had not come out since entering the building at dusk.
So after taking a shower, he rushed downstairs to the building, waiting for their reunion.
Every time the elevator rang, he subconsciously straightened his military uniform collar, his piercing gaze fixed on the upper floors of the building, hoping that the handsome male was watching him from behind one of the windows.
Hill was indeed watching him from the Marshal's office window, though probably not in the way Eric wanted.
He was completely encircled in the marshal's arms, his waist held firmly by the marshal's strong arms, and the movement of the marshal's other hand forced him to look out the window.
The one-way viewing glass has been removed, and the warship's nighttime environment simulates the ecology of the capital planet, with natural winds blowing, and gusts of natural wind blowing on his sweaty hair and every part of his body.
The marshal's palms were large and rough, and very warm. His movements were forceful but not rude, as if he were handling a task meticulously. The protruding veins caused a shiver when they were rubbed together.
The marshal was born a commoner female insect. He achieved an S+ grade in every course at the Imperial Military Academy and steadily rose through the ranks of the military on his own merits.
Not only in terms of strategic combat and personal fighting ability, but also in terms of how to serve the male lord, he is S+. Unfortunately, no male insect has ever experienced this before. Hill is the first.
The marshal was more like maintaining a weapon, inspecting every inch of it, starting from the scabbard, including its size, color, and hardness, to ensure it met his standards.
Then he began to examine the practicality of the weapons. Compared to idealism, the marshal preferred pragmatism, and anything that was not good enough was quickly discarded by the marshal.
Fortunately, Hill should have met the Marshal's requirements.
There were puddles on the ground. Five hours had passed since the Marshal finished his work at 6 p.m. During that time, except for a short period when the Marshal was dealing with unexpected official business, Hill had stayed by the Marshal's side the whole time.
"Ugh, so sour... Marshal..."
Hill's abdomen was sore, but the Marshal perfectly demonstrated the female insect's endurance and strength, and so far he had no discomfort.
This had happened many times already, and he was starting to get fed up, but the marshal still showed no sign of letting him off the hook.
The marshal's hands were constantly carrying out the female insect training course. At first, it was very comfortable, but now it was becoming unbearable and even somewhat torturous.
Hill reached out to brace himself against the glass, only to find that the glass had been removed at some point, leaving him with nothing but emptiness. His mind cleared slightly.
By 11 p.m., most of the lights inside the warship had been turned off, which is a good sign that the situation is not currently one of emergency or wartime conditions.
Under the sparse lights, female soldiers patrolled and went about their duties; they could be spotted as soon as they heard a sound and looked up.
His groin area felt swollen and sore, and he was certain that the next thing that came out wouldn't be normal; it might be—
The natural wind seemed to be constantly agitating him, making him tremble uncontrollably.
"Marshal, it's so cold. Shall we go inside?" His voice was already a little hoarse, and he spoke in a low voice, afraid of disturbing the patrolling robots.
The little thing was beautiful, and had reached its limit. It lowered its head, begging for mercy and acting coquettishly. Its voice was soft, and its downcast eyes seemed to be covered with a layer of damp mist, but it did not resist at all, letting him do whatever he wanted.
Celtic did not answer, his hand gestures clearly revealing his ferocity.
Hill bent over in discomfort; he had almost...
Is the marshal a little angry?
He hasn’t said a word since he came up. The marshal is usually quiet, but he’s never been like this before. And even when they were in close contact since six o’clock, he never kissed him.
This wasn't the case before. If he had chased after the marshal with a clingy, affectionate kiss, the marshal would usually have been forcefully pursued and won back.
Why?
I deliberately chose the time and place to pick up the marshal from get off work, following the textbook instructions. Shouldn't it have been a wonderful evening, according to the textbook?
While battling the waves of rising water, Hill tried hard to think that he must have done something wrong.
Where is it?
With no glass in front of him to support him, Hill could only support himself on the Marshal's arm. The bulging veins on his arm were as taut as steel, and the sweat made it difficult for him to hold on, causing him to keep sliding down.
The young male insect, feeling embarrassed and unable to bear it, lowered its head.
He looked down and suddenly saw a female insect standing straight in front of the silver elevator platform downstairs, dressed in a white formal military uniform, who looked somewhat familiar.
It was the female soldier who spoke to him that afternoon!
Bright said they were trying to strike up a conversation, asking for his contact information—yes, they were planning to ask for his contact information, but, but—
"Hmm, no, Marshal, no contact information—" She hadn't even noticed him; she was only thinking about the Marshal.
Hill tentatively tapped the personal terminal, but his fingers were too slippery, and he had to tap three times before he could open it: "Only... Marshal..."
An ice-blue screen was projected into the void, displaying everything to Celt without reservation.
The male insect's personal terminal was surprisingly clean, with only the insect's name at the top, unlike the Imperial male insects which were overflowing with contact information and various female insects waiting to be selected.
Celtic's gray eyes swept sharply across the screen, his voice flat and even: "From this angle, it will fall on his face."
What face? Hill was not quite in his right mind, and it took him a long time to understand what the marshal was talking about.
Yes, yes—
But Celtic gave him no chance to hesitate, his hand suddenly tightening around the insect, causing the young male to completely lose control.
He could be more patient, but if it was something the marshal liked and wanted, he would be willing.
Hill completely gave up struggling, abandoning all the shame he had felt over the years. He closed his eyes, unable to bear looking. He would cooperate with whatever the Marshal liked, as long as it was the Marshal.
Time dragged on. Hill could almost hear the rapid, clear ticking of the clock. He couldn't imagine what the female soldier downstairs would do, what would happen if the warship's surveillance cameras caught it, and even more terrifyingly, what if the female soldier looked up and saw...
In that instant, Hill felt all the upbringing and rules he had followed for the past decade vanish, and all he could hear was the crystal-clear ticking sound. He entrusted everything to the Marshal.
Very well-behaved.
This attitude of giving everything and having complete control pleased Celtic.
Hill felt the Marshal lower his head and kiss him forcefully. He tentatively kissed back and was not rejected.
Is the marshal no longer angry?
The young male insect slowly opened his eyes. His abdomen was still sore and twitching from the long time that had passed. The marshal's movements were no longer cold and forceful; he began to skillfully finish off his prey.
The glass that was just there didn't fall down; at the last moment, it rose up and is now slowly flowing down the transparent one-way viewing glass.
A large, warm hand covered his throbbing abdomen, bringing him unprecedented comfort and warmth.
So it really is because of that female soldier? Is he jealous? The marshal cares about him, and probably even likes him a little?
Noticing the male insect's even more passionate return kiss, Celtic's eyes darkened, and he forcefully pulled the little creature back onto the sofa...
At midnight, a new day begins.
The little male insect curled up on the sofa, covered with the marshal's uniform, and fell asleep from exhaustion.
Celtic reached for a tissue and wiped the wetness from his hands.
The robot silently cleaned the large puddle of water in front of the glass window, and more lights went out. Downstairs, Brigadier General Eric still stood stubbornly, like a silent tree.
Brigadier Generals have the right to travel at night; in other words, Eric can wait here overnight.
Celt turned on his personal computer and restarted the robot patrol in the core area, which had been paused. He quickly finished dealing with the military affairs that had piled up over the past few hours on the computer. After the robot finished cleaning, it brought in a glass of water as instructed by the marshal.
Male insects need to be replenished with water.
Celt got up and picked up the male insect. One by one, the cold lights outside the Marshal's office began to turn on. The lights were too bright, and the little male insect was too tired. He buried himself in the Marshal's arms and fell asleep, breathing in the Marshal's gunpowder pheromones.
Adult male insects rarely lack female pheromones in this way.
Celt controlled the rise in pheromone concentration, his cold gaze sweeping over Eric standing downstairs.
He was destined never to meet the male insect he desired, because there was a special passage leading from the marshal's office to the core control room.
Author's Note:
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