Early morning, Baal opened his eyes.
The biological clock cultivated over years of military life woke him up before dawn. However, he didn't rush to get up. Instead, he remained lying flat, quietly inspecting the restless energy within his body.
His rampage levels had indeed been suppressed, but the poison still lurked deep within his meridians, waiting for an opportunity to strike back.
Baal's eyes darkened slightly. This toxin was incredibly tricky; not only could it induce a male's rampage, but it could also perfectly evade conventional biochemical tests.
For Kieran to dare make a move in broad daylight under everyone's watchful eyes, he must have been fully prepared. He had to figure out its composition as soon as possible, or else it would remain a ticking time bomb ready to detonate at any moment.
He reached for the military optical computer by his bedside.
The screen lit up, displaying an unread, urgent encrypted file at the top. The sender was Gary.
Baal frowned and tapped it open. The massive gold-rimmed crest of the Imperial Royal Family at the top of the document stung his eyes.
The content was extremely official: A joint dispatch from the Imperial Royal Family and the Academy of Sciences stated that, to express deep condolences and support for the Federation Military's soldiers fighting the Zerg, they were specially dispatching the Chief Academician of the Imperial Academy of Sciences and Director of the Central Hospital, Chiron, to serve as a senior medical advisor. He would head to the Sirius Galaxy defense line to provide technical support and medical aid for a month.
Baal stared at the name Chiron and let out a cold sneer.
Since when did those old foxes in the Empire suddenly turn into philanthropists? Normally, if the Federation wanted a high-precision medical pod from the Empire, they had to go through over a dozen rounds of negotiations, getting fleeced so badly that the Empire would practically charge them by the gram for every single screw.
But now, they were directly packing up and sending over their most precious Chief Academician?
Moreover, from what he knew, Chiron was a doctor who saved lives on the surface, but behind the scenes, he was a core strategist in the Empire's highest decision-making echelon.
His every move influenced the interstellar political landscape. Why would he drop everything to come to the front lines?
Baal turned his head, his gaze falling to his side.
On the large bed, Jiang Lijin had wrapped herself up tightly like a silkworm pupa, revealing only half of her fluffy head.
The fringe planet where this base was located was extremely cold year-round. To save energy, the space station's climate control system was set rather low at night. She was afraid of the cold and had fought so fiercely for the blanket last night that she had forcefully pushed Baal to the very edge of the bed.
Seeing her sleeping so soundly, the coldness in Baal's eyes unconsciously dissipated a little.
He could guess with his toes that Chiron himself had orchestrated this document. Under the grandiose guise of military exchange and saving lives, he was blatantly coming to the Federation's front lines to steal his woman.
Baal's grip on the optical computer tightened, his eyes growing dark and murky.
Ordinarily, if a top medical expert came to work for free, he would welcome it with open arms; it was something one could only wish for. But right now, this expert was coming for his wife.
That made it highly disturbing.
Agree? That would be inviting a wolf into his house.
Refuse? That would make him look guilty and insecure. Besides, he actually needed Chiron right now; he needed him to cure the toxin in his body.
As for the skill level of the military medical officers... they were fine for treating physical trauma like broken arms and legs, but when faced with this kind of complex neurotoxin targeting the spiritual sea, they were essentially helpless.
Baal leaned against the headboard and pinched the bridge of his nose. No matter what Chiron was plotting, this was his territory!
Approved. Arrange the highest standard of reception; don't give the Empire any excuse to find fault.
After replying to Gary, he switched his contacts, found the avatar of the base's Chief Medical Officer, and sent a brief command.
Command room in one hour. Bring your best toxicology analysis equipment.
Having done all this, Baal tossed the optical computer back onto the nightstand, producing a soft click.
The silkworm pupa beside him stirred.
Jiang Lijin struggled to poke her head out from the pile of blankets, her eyes heavy with sleep and her hair a messy bird's nest.
She had actually slept quite well last night. There were no midnight rampages, no sudden outbursts of madness, and the oversized hot water bottle next to her radiated just the right amount of heat, allowing her a rare, peaceful night's sleep.
Jiang Lijin yawned, her voice carrying the huskiness of someone who had just woken up, and turned to look at the man leaning against the headboard. Morning, Commander-in-Chief.
Baal looked at her, his golden vertical pupils unreadable. Morning.
Greetings out of the way, Jiang Lijin cut straight to the chase: I'm hungry.
For the past three days, she had been surviving on the portable food Tinia had stuffed into her hands earlier. The young master was generous; even the portable rations were specially made by a high-end restaurant under the Yunlan Group, and the taste was absolutely impeccable.
But there would eventually come a time when it ran out. She wasn't sure how long she would be staying at the base, so she needed to save some as a reserve.
Where is your military cafeteria? Take me there to broaden my horizons. Jiang Lijin threw off the covers and climbed up nimbly.
Baal looked at her expectant eyes and shattered her illusions. The base doesn't have a cafeteria.
Jiang Lijin froze. What?
No cafeteria, Baal repeated. Only a supply depot.
Then what do you guys normally eat?
Nutrient fluid.
An expected yet despair-inducing answer.
You can't possibly drink that stuff every day, can you? Jiang Lijin's eyes widened in disbelief. Three meals a day, drinking it for every meal? With no variety?
Nutrient fluid is efficient and convenient, and it provides all the energy needed for combat, Baal stated the objective facts. Eating requires chewing and swallowing, which wastes a lot of time. On the ever-changing battlefield, every second is a matter of life and death. A high-grade nutrient fluid takes five seconds to drink and keeps you full for three days.
Jiang Lijin frowned as she listened.
During her time on Valoran, Tinia had spoiled her palate completely, constantly finding new ways to gather rare ingredients and make delicious food every day. It was easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to go from luxury to frugality.
You too? she asked, refusing to give up. As the grand Commander-in-Chief of the Federation, shouldn't he have some privileges? Having a private kitchen wouldn't be too much to ask, right?
Me too, Baal replied crisply, completely dead-ending her hopes.
Jiang Lijin fell back onto the bed in despair, staring lifelessly at the gray ceiling. Fine, nutrient fluid it is.
When standing under someone else's eaves, one must bow their head. She couldn't very well starve herself to death in this godforsaken frontline base.
Baal looked at her scrunched-up face and couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.
He stood up and straightened the belt of his black silk bathrobe.
A few days ago, the Second Fleet was clearing a battlefield in a combat zone on the edge of the Sirius Galaxy, Baal began slowly, his voice deep. The ecological environment of that planet is quite nice. It wasn't completely polluted and retained some primordial vegetation.
Jiang Lijin's ears twitched. There was hope.
While the logistics unit was cleaning up the Zerg corpses, they conveniently killed a few Panhorn beasts that had strayed into the battlefield. Baal's smile deepened as he watched her ears perk up, and he continued, The meat was tested by instruments—it's non-toxic and rich in high protein. They shipped a few back and froze them in the logistics department's cold storage. Originally, they were intended to be used as raw extraction materials for high-grade nutrient fluids.
Jiang Lijin's eyes lit up, sweeping away her previous gloom. Panhorn beasts? Are they tasty?
"No one has eaten it," Baal told the truth. "Everyone is just drinking nutrient fluids."
"What a reckless waste of good food!" Jiang Lijin slapped the bedboard and sat right up, looking utterly heartbroken. "You have meat but choose to drink nutrient fluids? Is everyone in the military out of their minds?"
Baal ignored her complaints. "I will have someone bring some over later, and I will roast it for you."
Jiang Lijin froze.
He was going to roast it? She looked the cold-faced man standing before her up and down.
An image automatically generated in her mind: Baal wearing a floral apron, holding a spatula, expressionlessly stir-frying... No, the mental image was too blinding. She quickly deleted it from her brain.
"You?" Jiang Lijin's eyes were filled with suspicion. "Commander-in-Chief Baal actually knows how to barbecue? Don't end up poisoning me."
"Wilderness survival training is a mandatory course in the first year of the military academy." Baal's tone was calm, completely unfazed by her doubts. "On a barren planet with no supplies, building a fire to roast meat is a fundamental survival skill. I have even roasted and eaten the insectoids. The meat of a mere coiled-horn beast won't be a problem for me."
Roast... roast insectoids?!
Her mind uncontrollably flashed back to what she had seen on the starship on her way to the base: the hideous compound eyes of the insectoids, their severed limbs oozing green slime, and their carapaces covered in sharp barbs...
