Chi Zhan gave a slight shake of his head. The motion sent a wave of dizziness through him, and he hurriedly grabbed the nearby railing for support. The gesture was subtle enough that Tao Ran didn’t notice.
“Quick, drink some of this.” Tao Ran handed him a bottle of nutrient solution.
Chi Zhan took it. His fingers were still trembling from the earlier combat, but he managed to twist the cap open with some effort.
“Thanks.”
“Good thing you won. If that little punk had beaten you, we’d never hear the end of it. I know Omegas are supposed to be protected, but how can someone be so damn annoying? Seriously, he’s impossible to like.” Tao Ran’s expression was indignant. But then, his tone shifted, brightening with excitement. “Anyway, Chi-Chi, you might actually make it into the Royal Secretary Corps! His Highness the Crown Prince was in the assessment chamber just now—he watched the entire match!”
Chi Zhan’s hand paused mid-turn. His composed expression cracked into one of unguarded surprise.
“The Crown Prince… was already here?”
Instinctively, he glanced toward the viewing stands. But a floating privacy screen blocked the sightlines—nothing could be seen beyond it.
Wherever the royal family went, the area would be cleared and isolated. Regular people weren’t permitted to glimpse them at will.
As for the assessment just now, only three words came to Chi Zhan’s mind:
A complete disaster.
Whether in reaction speed, combat technique, or adaptability, his performance… had been dismal.
Nothing like his usual training sessions.
And worse, all of that had unfolded right in front of the Crown Prince. Even though he’d won, his appearance had been a mess—hardly impressive by any measure.
It looked like his chances of being selected as a secretary officer this time were next to nil.
Chi Zhan let out a quiet sigh in his heart.
The nutrient solution had a thick texture and a faint, indescribable taste. It was packed with all the essential nutrients a human needed. For military academy students, convenience and functionality took precedence over flavor.
But still, it tasted awful.
And in such a disheartened mood, the bitterness seemed to deepen.
Chi Zhan sipped slowly, only finishing about half the bottle before setting it aside. He had no desire to drink more. Fortunately, that was enough—the earlier wave of weakness had passed, and he could probably endure the upcoming physical training.
The lingering fatigue in his body, he figured, must just be from overtraining lately.
The combat assessments continued.
Principal Rhodes occasionally stole glances at the Crown Prince beside him, hoping to glean some clue from his micro-expressions.
But there was nothing to read.
The Crown Prince rested his chin on one hand, his expression unreadable. There was no sign of who, if anyone, had caught his interest. As the minutes ticked by with no change in his demeanor, it started to look like disinterest. Rhodes had no choice but to quietly reshuffle the order, placing their school’s “elite” students upfront in hopes of rekindling the Prince’s attention.
“Your Highness, these are some of our most promising graduates,” Rhodes said as he adjusted his glasses and brought up an electronic file, flipping the screen toward the Prince. “Especially this one, Moy. He’s an Omega, but his performance across the board has been stellar.”
The military academy had always maintained close ties with the royal family. If a student were chosen by them, it would be a great honor for the principal as well—a mark of institutional prestige.
But the Crown Prince didn’t open the file. Instead, he asked, “The Intelligence Division students… they’re mostly Beta, right?”
Rhodes wasn’t sure if that meant the Prince was interested or not. He replied cautiously, “As Your Highness knows, the Intelligence Division is quite specialized. Most of its students are recruited from orphanages across nearby planets, and yes, the majority are Beta. Though due to certain special requirements, there are some Omega students as well.”
The Prince finally opened the file, giving it a cursory glance. Then, he suddenly chuckled. “Rhodes, this ‘top student’ of yours—is that only based on written exams? Secretary officers aren’t just desk workers anymore. While that might’ve been true in the past, I’d prefer someone with balanced capabilities.”
Rhodes wiped the sweat off his brow.
“Yes, of course, I understand.”
The Prince flicked through the files with a finger, skimming quickly—until he suddenly stopped.
A young man’s image appeared on the transparent screen. He was dressed in a formal, deep-black combat uniform. His skin was strikingly pale, his posture upright, and his lips pressed into a subtle line as he looked toward the camera, clearly uncomfortable being photographed.
His features weren’t the type that would stun at first glance—someone you could easily lose in a crowd. Like still water—colorless, tasteless, unassuming.
He looked utterly harmless.
And yet just moments ago, he’d been fierce as a wild cub, like a little leopard ready to pounce.
“That one is…” Rhodes noticed the Crown Prince had paused for a few seconds. He was about to explain, but the Prince casually flipped past the page, cutting him off mid-sentence.
“Your Highness, that was the academy’s second-ranked student—Chi Zhan. He’s a Beta, and his performance is also very strong,” Rhodes added, though his tone lacked the urgency he’d shown earlier for Moy. He tested the waters, “You arrived just as he was taking the exam. What did you think of him?”
“Mm.” The Crown Prince considered it for a moment, as if unsure how to answer. Eventually, he said, “Not bad.”
He didn’t sound particularly interested.
There were only ten profiles in the Prince’s file—representing the top ten students in the academy. It didn’t take long to flip through them. Then the Crown Prince asked, his voice flat, “That’s all?”
“If you’d like to see more, I could—”
“No, that won’t be necessary.” The Prince flipped back to a certain page and tapped his knuckle lightly on the armrest. “Send me a full report on him.”
The page he returned to… was Moy’s.
Rhodes exhaled in relief. As expected. He should’ve known better—how could an Alpha possibly resist an Omega? Choosing an Omega was practically etched into Alpha instinct, a rule written into their bones. Even the Crown Prince couldn’t escape that fate.
In this society, human beings would gradually undergo secondary gender differentiation at the age of eighteen, becoming Alpha, Omega, or Beta.
Alphas were born to lead. They held higher social privileges, had stronger physiques, and were overflowing with energy. Omegas, meanwhile, were rare and highly fertile. Since differentiation, they would enter heat two to three times a year—periods that could only be soothed through physical connection with a compatible Alpha.
