Top-Tier Omega: Chasing Alpha to the Crematorium – Chapter 86

I Want to Kill You

The spaceship’s bulkheads gleamed under the refracted light of the nebula. Zhan Nansheng sat by the viewport, her fingers mindlessly tracing the rim of her cold coffee cup.

Ever since Lin Sheng left, her thoughts had been like the meteor fragments drifting outside the window, unable to find a place to land.

            

“What are you thinking about?” Wu Lan’s voice came from behind her, raspy with sleep.

Zhan Nansheng’s fingers tightened slightly, the coffee cup feeling hot in her palm.

“Nothing,” she replied without turning around, her gaze stubbornly fixed on the starry expanse outside. “Just watching the stars.”

            

Wu Lan walked over, carrying the scent of the body wash Zhan Nansheng knew so well. She naturally reached out to touch Zhan Nansheng’s forehead, but the moment her hand neared, Zhan Nansheng flinched away.

“You’ve been very tense lately.” Wu Lan’s hand hovered in the air, her brow furrowing.

Zhan Nansheng finally turned her head, her gaze sweeping over Wu Lan’s face. “Have I?” She offered a hollow smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Maybe… I just haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

            

Wu Lan scrutinized her before suddenly reaching out to grab her wrist.

Zhan Nansheng reflexively tried to pull away, but she was pinned down even harder. She could feel Wu Lan’s thumb pressing against her pulse point—the precise placement didn’t feel like an accident.

“Your heart’s beating very fast,” Wu Lan said, narrowing her eyes. “You’re lying.”

            

“Wu Lan, you…” Zhan Nansheng’s throat tightened. The surging fury made her want to confront Wu Lan right then and there, but when the words reached her lips, she only managed to squeeze out: “It’s nothing. I was just thinking about my father.”

Wu Lan’s expression softened slightly, but her fingers didn’t loosen their grip. “Don’t think about that. We’re safe now.” With that, she gently kissed Zhan Nansheng’s cold fingertips.

The kiss sent a shiver down Zhan Nansheng’s entire body.

            

How could this liar say these things so calmly? She yanked her hand back, pretending to tuck her hair behind her ear to hide her trembling.

“I’m a little tired. Let’s go rest.” She stood up, her movements so rushed she nearly knocked over the coffee cup.

Wu Lan watched her thoughtfully, her expression turning incredibly complex.

            

When they lay down to sleep, they lay close together, but silence stretched between them once more.

Instinct told Wu Lan that the Eldest Miss¹ was acting very strange.

Her fingers tapped a rhythmic beat against the side of the bed, a minor habit of hers when she was thinking. Zhan Nansheng stared at those slender fingers, remembering how gently they had once caressed her skin.

            

“Wu Lan…” she suddenly spoke, only to stop herself.

“Hmm?” Wu Lan looked up, her gaze finally meeting hers.

Zhan Nansheng opened her mouth, the question trembling on the tip of her tongue—’Do you love me?’

            

But in the end, she couldn’t ask it.

“…It’s nothing.” She turned her back to Wu Lan and lay down.

Wu Lan watched her silently, her eyes full of complicated emotions.

            

After a long while, she reached out and covered Zhan Nansheng’s hand. “Nansheng,” she murmured, “did something happen? You’re really off today.”

Zhan Nansheng held her breath as the fury in her chest began to simmer again.

Yet, at this moment, she didn’t dare voice her rage. She was terrified that all of it was true. She feared that everything before her would vanish like a bubble, and feared even more… that once the truth was laid bare, she would be left with nothing at all.

            

“No matter what happens, I’ll be with you.” Wu Lan’s voice was very soft, yet it carried the weight of a solemn vow.

Zhan Nansheng’s eyes suddenly burned hot.

She wanted to believe those words. She wanted to believe them so desperately it was driving her mad.

            

But she only quietly withdrew her hand and got up. “I’m tired. Let’s sleep.”

Wu Lan’s eyes flickered. She frowned deeply but didn’t say anything more.

A long time passed, and Zhan Nansheng’s breathing evened out, suggesting she had fallen fast asleep.

            

Wu Lan gently lifted Zhan Nansheng’s arm from around her waist and slowly stood up.

The corridor’s sensor lights flickered on one by one with her footsteps, illuminating her taut jawline.

Song Qingpei’s loss of contact had filled her with intense anxiety. She truly couldn’t afford to wait any longer.

            

Wu Lan stopped outside the communications room. Her finger hovered over the lock for a few seconds before she finally input the passcode.

“Verification successful,” the mechanical female voice chimed, gratingly loud in the dead silence.

The blue light of the activating communicator reflected on Wu Lan’s face as she quickly entered the frequency code.

            

“Wu Lan?” Ming Yu’s holographic projection appeared on the screen, her tone laced with worry. “Are you out of your mind? Contacting me now?”

“Ming Yu, where’s Qingpei?” Wu Lan asked urgently.

Ming Yu’s expression instantly darkened. “You didn’t know?” Her gaze was grave. “Zhan Li captured her three days ago.”

            

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Wu Lan demanded.

“What use would telling you have been?” Ming Yu let out a bitter laugh. “You’re currently fleeing across the galaxy with Zhan Nansheng, barely able to save your own skin.”

“How is she now?” Wu Lan pressed. “Where’s she being held?”

            

Ming Yu fell silent for a moment before pulling up the data. “Special Confinement Area, Basement Level 7. They haven’t used torture on her yet, but Zhan Li has given a final deadline…” She trailed off.

Wu Lan clenched her jaw so hard her molars ached.

She knew Zhan Li’s methods all too well. That man excelled at making people wish they were dead.

            

“I have a plan,” Ming Yu said in a low voice. “I can lead a team to launch a forced raid—”

“No,” Wu Lan interrupted flatly. “You can’t openly fall out² with Zhan Li just yet. We still need you to mobilize the Third Fleet.”

“Then what do you propose we do?” Ming Yu frowned. “We can’t just stand by and watch Qingpei die.”

            

Wu Lan’s breathing grew heavy. She turned to look at the cabin door and lowered her voice. “We can use Zhan Nansheng as a bargaining chip.”

Ming Yu’s holographic projection froze.

“…What?”

            

“Zhan Li might not care about Song Qingpei, but he can’t ignore his own daughter.” Wu Lan’s voice was cold to the point of cruelty. “Tell him that if Song Qingpei loses even a single hair, he’ll never see Zhan Nansheng again.”

From the other end of the communicator came the sound of Ming Yu sucking in a sharp breath. “Wu Lan, are you serious? That’s Zhan Nansheng! She feels—”

“I know,” Wu Lan cut her off, her eyes freezing over. “But this is the most effective method.”

            

Ming Yu fell silent for a long time before finally whispering, “Thank you.”

Wu Lan twitched the corner of her lips but didn’t reply.

Click.

            

A faint mechanical sound came from the doorway.

Wu Lan’s blood froze instantly.

She slowly turned around and saw that the door, which should have been locked tight, had somehow been left slightly ajar. Now, it was pushed wide open, revealing Zhan Nansheng’s pale face.

            

Time seemed to stand still.

Wu Lan watched as Zhan Nansheng stood barefoot, wearing only a loose-fitting nightrobe, staring daggers at her.

Ming Yu’s projection cut out immediately, leaving behind a room filled with dead silence.

            

“…Nansheng.” Wu Lan’s throat tightened, but she forced her voice to remain calm.

Zhan Nansheng didn’t speak. She just stared, her chest heaving violently as if she would completely lose control at any second.

“You heard everything?” Wu Lan asked, her tone bordering on indifferent.

            

Zhan Nansheng’s fingertips trembled.

Then, she smiled.

The laughter was incredibly soft, yet it sounded like shattering glass, piercing Wu Lan’s eardrums.

            

“I heard it,” Zhan Nansheng whispered. “So, I’m just a bargaining chip after all.”

Wu Lan’s jaw clenched.

She should keep acting. She should use even more brutal words to crush Zhan Nansheng’s remaining hope, and yet—

            

—she couldn’t bring herself to say them.

Caught completely off guard, Zhan Nansheng suddenly snatched up the metal cup from the console and threw it at her with all her might!

Bang!

            

The cup scraped past Wu Lan’s temple and slammed into the wall, emitting a harsh clank. Warm blood trickled down Wu Lan’s temple, dripping onto her white clothes and blooming into dark stains.

Wu Lan didn’t dodge.

“You lied to me,” Zhan Nansheng said, her voice shaking, each word spat out from between her teeth. “From the very beginning, you’ve been lying to me!”

            

Wu Lan reached up to wipe away the blood, expressionless. “Yes.”

Zhan Nansheng’s breath hitched.

She lunged forward, grabbing Wu Lan’s collar, her nails nearly digging into Wu Lan’s flesh. “And those nights?!” Her voice suddenly spiked, cracking with a broken tremor. “You said you loved me—was that a lie, too?!”

            

Wu Lan let her pull her collar, her gaze as cold as an abyss. “What else?” She sneered. “Did you honestly think I’d fall in love with Zhan Li’s daughter?”

Zhan Nansheng’s pupils shrank violently.

Wu Lan stepped closer, her tone ruthless. “You’re nothing more than a useful tool. Naive, easy to trick. A little kindness, and you became completely devoted—”

            

Slap!

A harsh slap struck Wu Lan across the face.

Zhan Nansheng’s hand shook, her palm burning hot.

            

Wu Lan’s head turned to the side, a trace of blood seeping from the corner of her mouth, yet she was still smiling.

“Done hitting me?” Wu Lan licked the blood from her lip and looked up at her. “Do you see reality clearly now?”

Zhan Nansheng’s chest heaved. Tears welled in her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall. She stared intently at Wu Lan, as if she wanted to carve this face into her very marrow, only to gouge it out with her own hands.

            

“Why?” her voice rasped. “Why do this to me?”

Wu Lan fell silent for a moment.

Then, she slowly raised her hands, grasping Zhan Nansheng’s wrists, and pried open her clenched fingers one by one. Averting her eyes, she said, “Because I need a bargaining chip to threaten Zhan Li.”

            

Zhan Nansheng’s pupils contracted slightly, as if she still couldn’t accept it. “That’s impossible! You said you loved me…”

“It was a mission requirement,” Wu Lan’s voice cut like a knife. “Gaining your trust was the only way to take you away.”

Zhan Nansheng stared fixedly at her, trying to find even the slightest crack in her armor.

            

But Wu Lan’s expression was cold and hard as iron, showing not the slightest sign of wavering.

“Haha…” Zhan Nansheng suddenly burst into a wild, manic laugh. “My father wants to use me for a political marriage, and you want to use me as a stepping stone… What do you all take me for?!”

Wu Lan looked at her and said nothing.

            

“Speak!” Zhan Nansheng lunged forward again, grabbing her collar. “Look at me! Tell me!”

Wu Lan finally looked up, her eyes filled with a cold indifference Zhan Nansheng had never seen before. “Does it matter? Now that you know the truth, shouldn’t you be glad you saw me for who I am sooner?”

Zhan Nansheng felt as if she had been struck by lightning. She stumbled back a few steps, on the verge of collapsing. “I want to kill you…” her voice trembled uncontrollably. “I’ll kill you…”

            

Wu Lan stood quietly. She even took the initiative to draw her laser pistol, placing it into Zhan Nansheng’s hand. Word by word, she said, “Do it.” She pointed to her own forehead. “Right here. You’ve had professional training; you know how to make it a clean kill.”

Zhan Nansheng stared hard at her, her lips quivering.

After a long silence, the gun clattered to the floor.

            

“Why? Why didn’t you keep lying to me… I would rather… I’d rather have never known…”

Wu Lan’s voice trembled almost imperceptibly, but the words she spoke were sharper than any blade. “Because the play is over. A rift has already formed between your father and Qin Mian. I’m going to trade you to get Qingpei back. You have no more use to me.”

Zhan Nansheng stumbled back two steps and fell to her knees, as if her heart had been pierced right through by those words.

            

Wu Lan expected her to cry, to break down, to become hysterical—but Zhan Nansheng just remained there, slowly raising her chin as tears finally spilled over, though her eyes were terrifyingly cold.

“Fine,” she whispered. “Wu Lan, you’re good. Very good.”

Zhan Nansheng slumped onto the floor. She didn’t say another word, like a puppet whose soul had been ripped out, passive as Wu Lan locked her away in the spaceship’s confinement room.

            

Stepping out of the confinement room, Wu Lan slowly slid down to the floor. With her back against the cold metal wall, she let her body sink, silently burying her face in her arms without making a sound.

The blood was still flowing.

After a long time, as if she had finally regained her composure, she pressed her hand hard against the wound.

            

The pain cleared her head.

Wu Lan wiped the bloodstains from her face. The wound on her temple still throbbed, but she had already treated it with medical gel, leaving only a dark red trace behind.

Calming her breathing slightly, she contacted Ming Yu once more.

            

The moment Ming Yu’s holographic projection appeared, she noticed the injury on Wu Lan’s forehead and asked urgently, “Wu Lan, what’s the situation on your end?”

“Everything’s under control,” Wu Lan said, her voice impossibly calm, as if the fierce confrontation from moments ago had never taken place. “Zhan Nansheng is locked in the confinement room. She won’t pose a threat anytime soon.”

Ming Yu’s brow furrowed imperceptibly. “She… knows everything?”

            

“Yes,” Wu Lan replied curtly, her fingers tapping mindlessly against the console. “It’s better this way. Saves us the trouble of keeping up the act.”

Ming Yu stared at her for a few seconds, opening her mouth as if to speak, but stopped.

In the end, she only sighed softly. “We don’t have much time. Zhan Li just sent another ultimatum. If he doesn’t see her in forty-eight hours, he’ll subject Qingpei to torture…”

            

“I know,” Wu Lan cut her off, her eyes as sharp as blades. “That’s why we have to act quickly. Do you think the odds of swapping Zhan Nansheng for Qingpei are high?”

Ming Yu pondered for a moment. “It’s hard to say. Although Zhan Nansheng is his only blood heir, Zhan Li’s always been cold and ruthless. He might not necessarily succumb to our blackmail.”

Wu Lan paused, analyzing, “I met with Qin Mian earlier. He’s highly ambitious. Perhaps we can leverage his rivalry with Zhan Li to pressure him. Since it’s currently a critical phase of the election, I doubt Zhan Li would dare stir up too much trouble.”

            

Hearing this, Ming Yu said, “Even if Zhan Li agrees, there’s still immense risk. He’ll likely set an ambush at the exchange. He won’t let Qingpei go easily.”

The corner of Wu Lan’s mouth curved into a cold arch. “Which is why we need a contingency plan³. How many people can you mobilize on your end?”

“At least two hundred members of the Third Fleet can provide covert backup,” Ming Yu lowered her voice. “But I’ll need twenty-four hours to prepare.”

            

“That’s enough.” Wu Lan stopped in her tracks, her gaze turning deep. “I’ll take Zhan Nansheng to our designated coordinates—the Dark Reef Star Region. The terrain there is highly complex, making it perfect for both ambushes and retreats.”

“Alright, let’s go with that,” Ming Yu said rapidly. “I’ll arrange for two assault teams to lie in wait near the jump point to cover your escape.” She paused. “Wu Lan, are you sure you want to go through with this? Zhan Nansheng…”

“She’s just a bargaining chip.” Wu Lan’s voice suddenly lost all warmth, as if she were deliberately burying her emotions.

            

Ming Yu fell silent for a beat. “I’m just worried about your state of mind. You and Zhan Nansheng…”

“There’s no ‘me and Zhan Nansheng.'” Wu Lan turned around abruptly, a flash of agony crossing her eyes before it was swiftly replaced by icy resolve. “A mission is a mission. Personal feelings shouldn’t interfere with judgment.”

The communications room fell into a brief silence.

            

Ming Yu eventually nodded. “Alright. See you at the Dark Reef Star Region. Keep your channel encrypted.”

“Understood.” Wu Lan terminated the connection, and the holographic projection vanished.

Standing there, she was suddenly hit by a wave of dizziness.

            

The wound on her temple started to throb again, but compared to that, the ripping sensation in her chest was far harder to bear. Zhan Nansheng’s eyes, brimming with hatred, kept flashing in her mind.

Wu Lan forced herself to pull her thoughts together and proceed with the task at hand.

Now, she needed to call President Zhan Li to negotiate. If Zhan Nansheng found out, she would probably hate her to death.

            

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