Insectoids: The Job of the Males

Chapter 67

Hidden Boss Character

Translated by boilpoil
Edited by boilpoil

Wei Zhuo has certainly seen Cheng Zhaoci’s genuine smile, which is quite different from this ‘happy but I have to hold it in so I’m only smiling politely by raising the corners of my lips a little’ approach. Wei Zhuo is actually somewhat creeped out.

“Group Captain!” A soldier calls out to Wei Zhuo, and asks when he has his attention, “do you think your family could use a new concubine?”

Wei Zhuo quickly reassembles the parts he’s maintaining, and flicks the safety off, giving aim in one fell swoop.

That soldier, who was only joking, immediately raises his hands in defeat, “uh w-w-w-wait, calm down!”

Meng Yuele also stops Wei Zhuo from doing anything rash, while yelling at that dumbo, “fuck off! What the fuck were you doing leering at another’s xiongzhu in front of his cijun?!”

“You are wrong. My xiongzhu is excellent. It is normal to fall for him,” Wei Zhuo calmly exposits.

“Well if you’re so rational, why don’t you put that damned gun down first?!”

“I’m simply testing the parts out,” Wei Zhuo looks away, and puts down his weapon, “and I do not object to others being concubines for my xiongzhu.”

“Huh?” Meng Yuele shudders, wondering how much psychological damage Wei Zhuo is currently undergoing.

“As long as they can beat me in a solo fight,” clarifies Wei Zhuo.

Meng Yuele sighs in relief. Phew, that’s the Wei Zhuo he knows.

“He’s the grade S male? He came to retrieve Wei Zhuo that day, then?” Sun Wushe has already turned off the stream in front of him, and is leaning back in his chair, “Mr Cheng Zhaoci came here, huh?”

In the very midst of danger.

Jin Yue’s face is quite gloomy. He does not speak.

Sun Wushe seems rather caught up on the whole thing, “I thought… I actually thought he might cry and mourn for a while,” instead, looking at what he actually did this time, if anything did happen to Wei Zhuo, he might have put his life on the line and fought them head-on.
As one, single, solitary male.

He really didn’t know much about grade S males and their behaviour, but…

“The Federation has declassified some records on grade S males. Even recordings,” Jin Yue suddenly speaks up, “just now,” and he has just finished watching them, just like many citizens of the Federation, he presumes.

“If the little ugly thing really was going to avenge his beloved and fight us, we might actually be screwed,” Jin Yue ignores Sun Wushe, who’s clearly still mired in his own thoughts, and turns to leave.

The Readers’ Gala has finally ended after an entire day. Cheng Zhaoci is now rubbing his face, given his muscles are terribly tense from maintaining a smile all day, “ah, it was so tiring to stand around.”

“Oh really? Weren’t you happy?” The Zhou brothers are looking at him with rather equally inscrutable expressions.

Zhou Luoluo then takes a deep breath to reset, and speaks up, “I want to ask something.”

“Yeah?” Cheng Zhaoci sits up; the three of them are already sitting in their transport right now, and Zhou Luoluo has this serious expression on his face.

“In the afternoon, the government has declassified and publicised the records of the lives and achievements of several prominent grade S males. They are nowhere as simple as ‘good at drawing comics,'” Zhou Luoluo takes a deep breath. His hands are still trembling ever so slightly. He cannot help himself, knowing he is sitting next to some kind of hidden boss character in a game, the kind capable of destroying worlds over. He asks, “when you were signing your name and interacting with your fans, was that gentle attitude and amicable atmosphere what you felt deep down inside? Or was it actually acting?”

The grade S males… They’re all emotionless – heartless and crazed conflict creators. Zhou Luoluo is seriously concerned – that Cheng Zhaoci was only pretending to be enjoying himself.

“I was only acting polite,” replies Cheng Zhaoci. Hey, if he was smiling to the true degree of how happy he was at the sight of confused fans, it’d probably be even more dramatically discordant with his own image.