Chapter 8
Electricity is a scarce resource in the dungeon. In addition to maintaining the massive core hub, all electricity costs a high price, and sometimes even with a high price, the lights are dim and blurry.
The underground power supply facilities are old, and the yellowish lights flicker.
Through the not-so-soundproof door, one could faintly hear the noisy roars and curses. This place was filthy and depraved, where all the basic principles of civilized society had been abandoned.
Hill was pressed against the doorknob, the rotten handle digging into his waist, a little cold. Never before had the little male insect in such a shabby dwelling subconsciously wanted to groan but immediately swallowed the sound.
The rooms in these underground hotels are usually not very soundproof.
Just like the male insects' chirping that he had heard outside the door, the passage outside the door was bustling with insects, and the high-level female insects had powerful hearing, which was not something that a single door could block.
They'll hear it...
Hill felt his mind was becoming somewhat confused. All he could see was the marshal's powerful silhouette and the faint, rising insect patterns. In the dim light, these patterns looked even more sensual.
"Hmm..."
He no longer understood how things had gotten to this point. The moment the mantis-like, slender female insect mentioned exchanging males, Hill's spine was truly taut, and even his hidden tail hook almost popped out.
If he had scales like some kind of fish species in interstellar space, he would definitely have already broken them off.
And then? He only remembered a crimson light appearing in the darkness, and the male insect surrounded in the middle emitting a slightly hoarse, lustful voice, chuckling softly, "Want to try?"
A pungent pheromone explosion erupted, carrying the intense scent of blooming sage. Crimson ash fell, landing on the female insect's broad back, causing her to tremble from the pheromone stimulation.
Hmm, like this—
Hill was being pushed forward, and his nose accidentally bumped into the marshal's chest, catching a whiff of the pungent smell.
That was the scent left by an A-grade adult male insect in its fq phase. Perhaps it was that male insect that caused the Marshal to lose control.
A drop of sweat slid down the marshal's neck, where veins bulged, and fell into the hollow of his breast. Hill mustered his courage and leaned in to kiss the drop of sweat. At the same time, the fresh scent of slightly unripe bergamot exploded out.
To cover up that smell, the marshal must only have his scent on him.
If he can successfully advance to the next level, he can easily get rid of this smell. Now he needs to work a little harder...
Unbeknownst to him, Celtic's pupils had suddenly contracted, like a wild beast in the night staring intently at its prey.
The little male was pressed against the moon's chest, trying his best to suppress his breathing. His nose would occasionally brush against the sensitive spot, as if he was trying to struggle against it, both willingly and unwillingly.
He needs to breathe.
During mating, females will hold onto their males tightly; this is an instinct of the Zerg, and even marshals are no exception.
Sensing his resistance, Celtic showed no mercy and forcefully pushed him back down.
Hill got what he wanted, and felt the warmth of the Marshal.
It quickly replaced all the smells around the marshal, so even if he suffocated, it wouldn't matter.
Under the dim light, the young male insect stretched out its long, white neck, and the fine golden hair behind its earlobes was damp. Its green ghost-like eyes were also misty with moisture, and soon physiological tears welled up from the corners of its eyes.
But she still bit her lip, determined not to make a sound.
Celtic grabbed the noble man by the neck and ripped him off just before he could bear it any longer.
"Hmm..."
The male insect emits a short syllable before being swallowed in the next moment.
Hill: "......."
At first, she wanted to open her eyes in disbelief, but then felt too afraid to do so, and opened her lips to accept it.
The marshal's invasion was so intense that he felt suffocated, left only with endless despair and decline...
The unripe bergamot pheromones spread, attracting insects with an inexplicable allure. Many female insects had already gathered at the entrance, their mouths dry as they listened to the faint sounds coming from inside.
"Pheromone is really powerful."
"When did the new male insects arrive in the underground city? Why haven't I seen them being auctioned?"
"Dream on. How many stars would this kind of good stuff cost per night? Can you afford it? You'll only get a chance after you've had your fill of it."
The female insects gathered in the corridor, spewing vulgarities, when suddenly a powerful pressure erupted from behind the iron gate.
The female insect that had been cursing the most recently suddenly knelt down with a thud, her knees hitting the stone surface; judging from the sound, she probably had a fracture.
The pheromones of female insects repel each other. The stronger the female insect, the stronger its pheromones. S-class female insects have a certain area of control field. Female insects with too large a difference in level may not even be able to stand up under this strong pressure.
Without a doubt, the one enjoying the male insect inside was a powerful, high-ranking female insect.
The remaining female insects immediately moved away from the door, leaving only the female insect kneeling at the doorway, trying to get up by supporting herself on the ground. She only managed to lift half of her knee and failed.
"grass--"
The brown-haired female insect cursed, and the pressure inside the door suddenly increased, causing her other leg to slam to the ground.
Now the female insect dared not curse anymore, her face turning bright red. She angrily yelled at another female insect in the distance, "Andrew, you stupid insect, why aren't you pulling me away?!"
Once another female insect pulled the one with the fractured bone away, the passage was empty of insects, and Hill, who had been trembling inside the door, was finally relieved.
——
The male insect is physically weak and cannot withstand the female's unrestrained demands, so each time it ends with him falling into a deep sleep.
Of course, it can be ignored inside a warship with a constant temperature all day long. It doesn't matter if you throw it on the ground after use, as there will naturally be robotic insects to take care of it.
But that won't work in the rudimentary underground city; leaving it on the ground might make it sick the next day.
The cramped space contained only a sofa bed. The little male insect was curled up on the sofa, casually covered with a black trench coat, and breathing unevenly.
Celtic sat on one side of the sofa and lit a cigarette.
The crimson flames burned in the darkness, yet could not illuminate those emotionless, gray eyes.
out of control.
His self-control is declining, and his physical genes and racial instincts have been suppressed to the extreme. Any external stimulus could trigger an explosion at any time.
When Amos proposed exchanging males, an uncontrollable urge to kill arose within him. This was due to the anger and loss of control he felt towards the other females who coveted his male, and his urgent need to prove that the male belonged to him.
This is the nature of female insects, a terrifying nature, even if it's just an insignificant male insect used for amusement, or even if it's only been used three times.
The breathing beside me paused for a moment; the male insect had woken up.
The light was dim. Hill struggled to open his eyes, and a dim, yellowish light shone on the silhouettes around him.
He is a marshal.
The marshal took off his overcoat, revealing a shirt of the same color underneath. The cuff buttons were torn off somewhere, the collar was ripped open, his arm muscles were bulging, and his chest was full and bulging, subtly stretching the shirt.
His waist and back have sharp, clean lines, and he is always ready to strike, even when he is relaxed. He is more powerful than the marshals on recruitment posters and more real than the marshals on video websites.
Celt, of course, noticed that the male insect had woken up. According to the Imperial female insect's rules, Your Excellency the Noble Male Insect may not be able to stand the smell of smoke. Upon seeing Your Excellency the Male Insect, please extinguish this item containing harmful substances immediately.
While Celts might maintain a facade of civility for other male insects within the empire, there was no need for them to do so for a mere pet.
The scarlet ash burned to its end, teetering on the verge of falling.
Unexpectedly, the little male insect suddenly stretched out his hands, and the extinguished ashes fell into his palms.
His fair and beautiful palms, which appeared even in the darkness, trembled slightly, and his green pupils blinked gently, clearly indicating that he was in pain.
A rough knocking sound came from outside the door: "The potion has arrived."
The crimson light in Celtic's eyes disappeared, and he stood up, his tall figure blocking out the dim light above.
"Stay here." The voice was authoritative and cold.
“Okay.” Even though the marshal couldn’t see him, Hill nodded obediently.
It wasn't until long after the marshal left that he realized he was still foolishly holding the position of catching the ashes. He had just woken up and was still a little dazed. His only thought was that if he didn't catch the ashes soon, they would fall on the marshal.
I never imagined that this slight burning sensation would be completely insignificant to the female insect.
He seemed particularly dim-witted whenever the marshal's affairs came up.
Hill tried to cover his face, but when he moved, he found the marshal's clothes covering him, and a faint smell of gunpowder enveloped him.
He glanced outside subconsciously, and only after confirming that the marshal had left did he grab his trench coat and take a deep breath. He couldn't help but roll around in bed. The marshal must be worried about him!
No one likes the smell of gunpowder on the battlefield. The marshal's pheromones were rated by a group of male insects as the type they least wanted to come into contact with, and it was even said that just smelling them would give them nightmares.
It was filled with war, killing, and madness; even female insects would avoid this smell.
But Hill liked it.
Five years ago, on a winter night, he escaped countless death chases in the marshal's arms. Later, he suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder for a year and needed synthetic pheromones similar to the marshal's to fall asleep.
So tired, satisfied but so tired, he drifted off to sleep again amidst the reassuring pheromones of the insect.
When I woke up again, there was a loud banging on the door. It wasn't the marshal; it was the scent of a strange female insect.
Who are you?
Hill sensed something was wrong but didn't open the door. Instead, he stood behind the door and asked.
"Oh, you're awake so soon? You've got good stamina, huh?" A sneer came from outside the door, then the voice quickly turned cold, and the female insect kicked the door open.
"Your female insect has pledged you to our boss—"
Author's Note:
The most sour thing is getting jealous without realizing it [rabbit head with upright ears]
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