SGT CH111: He Surrendered His Crystal Core and Abilities

◎No one knew the utility of a psychic crystal core better than Mousse.◎

【Scumbag Gong Value -15】

【Current Scumbag Gong Value: 46】

Mousse woke up, saw the notification on the screen, and was a little stunned.

So, just saying “I like you” could drop the Scumbag Gong Value by this much?

His gaze fell on Aix, who was bringing him clothes by the bedside.

Should he try saying it again?

“I like you.”

Mousse tilted his head up and said.

Aix paused slightly in putting down the clothes, then raised his hand to start unbuttoning his own shirt.

Halfway through, as if remembering something, he persuaded with a troubled expression:

“We should also exercise some restraint.”

Mousse: “???”

Restraint regarding what?

He glanced at the screen again.

The Scumbag Gong Value didn’t budge.

Alright, it seemed it could only be triggered once.

Sure enough, loopholes couldn’t be exploited.

Mousse wasn’t exactly disappointed, though.

Aix liked him, Aix belonged completely to him—this put him in a good mood.

Even if he were to be eaten by Aix right now, he would be very willing.

Either kind of “eat” was fine.

However, he was a little hungry now.

“What’s for breakfast today?”

Mousse peered toward the dining table while getting dressed.

Aix also lowered the hand that was unbuttoning his shirt, feeling a slight regret in his heart.

But he quickly adjusted and answered attentively:

“Freshly squeezed fruit juice, fruit pilaf, fruit and vegetable salad…”

Mousse: “?”

Did we raid a fruit den?

“Where did so many fruits come from…”

Before Mousse could finish his sentence, he saw it.

Every fruit-bearing mutated plant inside the RV was laden with heavy fruits.

The fruits of mutated plants were formed by the convergence of their own energy and were their most important essence.

The fruit of a high-level mutated plant was almost equivalent to a small crystal core.

Mutated plants would not bear fruit easily.

Even back at the base, they would only produce a few a day for Mousse to eat.

Of course, Mousse couldn’t eat more than that anyway.

But now, in less than a day, the fruits they produced could be packed into crates.

“What on earth happened?” Mousse was astonished.

“Nothing… just… felt like bearing fruit.”

Aix’s gaze drifted, feeling somewhat guilty.

These mutated plants carried his spiritual consciousness and could be considered a part of him.

Usually, when they bloomed unrestrainedly at Mousse, it already embarrassed Aix greatly.

Now they all bore fruit simultaneously, and so many…

Both flowers and fruits were reproductive organs of plants.

From flowering to fruiting was like conception.

This feeling was as if a part of his spirit had become “impregnated” after Mousse told him he “liked” him.

Fortunately, Mousse only felt surprised and didn’t think in that direction.

Aix glanced at the oblivious Mousse and touched his own stomach with a strange feeling.

He didn’t know whether he should be glad that as a male, especially a lifeless zombie male, he himself wouldn’t experience a state similar to “pregnancy.”

Mousse moved closer to observe the condition of the mutated plants, then turned back to ask Aix:

“Bearing so much fruit must consume a lot of their energy, right? Do they need energy replenishment? Like… feeding them some crystal cores?”

These mutated plants were grown to protect Mousse, so of course, the higher their level, the better.

Usually, when they were at the base, Aix never shorted them on crystal cores.

Under his feeding, the highest-level mutated plant was already approaching A-rank.

Now that they had left the base and Mousse had his personal protection, the mutated plants’ utility wasn’t great.

Aix didn’t plan to keep raising them like before.

Not digging out their crystal cores for Mousse to play with was already out of consideration for Mousse’s feelings toward them.

“No need, they will hunt for themselves.”

Saying that, Aix casually picked up a pot of mutated morning glory, opened the car window, pulled it out by the roots, and threw it out.

Mousse was dumbfounded.

He hurriedly looked outside.

The mutated morning glory that landed on the ground quickly took root. Its root system spread out, and the stems and leaves on the ground grew rapidly, forming a sea of flowers stretching for several kilometers.

A branch quietly climbed up along the RV window, gently hooked Mousse’s finger, bloomed a small pale pink flower, and lightly enveloped Mousse’s fingertip.

Aix threw the mutated plants out pot by pot. Turning back to see this scene, the tips of his ears, which had long lost body temperature, instantly burned hot.

He strode forward, rescued Mousse’s finger from the morning glory’s tendrils, and slammed the window shut with a snap.

“These plants are too shameless.”

Aix held Mousse’s hand carefully, gritting his teeth as he cursed.

Whenever they had a chance, they would cling to Mousse to take advantage of him, displaying their reproductive organs at the drop of a hat, akin to molestation.

Aix felt that these mutated plants carrying his spiritual consciousness completely ruined his image, thus feeling doubly humiliated and annoyed.

“Huh?”

Mousse didn’t understand.

“They are very friendly.”

“Yes… friendly…”

Aix couldn’t explain and even had to help cover it up, praying in his heart that Mousse would never know the truth.

Suddenly, he thought of something and hurriedly asked:

“When I wasn’t around, did they bully you?”

He used to leave the base often for missions, ranging from a few days to a few weeks, unable to guard Mousse all the time.

During those times, did the mutated plants do anything to Mousse…

Aix’s heart rose to his throat.

Mousse shook his head.

“I told you they are very friendly. They even help cover me with a blanket at night.”

“Cover with a blanket?”

“Yeah, they’re very good. Sometimes when I fall asleep in the courtyard, they wrap around me and act as a blanket to cover me. It’s just that too many flowers bloom, and pollen gets on me, always making my nose itch.”

Aix’s suspended heart completely died.

Maybe he should just dig out their crystal cores and give them to Mousse to play with.

Under Mousse’s prevention, Aix’s plan to extract crystal cores was ultimately not implemented.

He could only take time to teach these mutated plants to correct their behavior.

Aix: Blooming is a very private matter; you can’t bloom at people casually.

Mutated plants: Understood, only bloom flowers for Si-Si in private.

Aix: You can’t sprinkle pollen on people; it’s too obscene.

Mutated plants: What is obscene?

Mutated plants: Can’t help it at all; as soon as Si-Si looks over, we sprinkle.

Mutated plants: Clearly, you also sprinkle “pollen” on Si-Si, so much every time; we saw it all.

Aix: Don’t always cling to Mousse.

Mutated plants: Why? You cling to Si-Si all the time.

Mutated plants: We are you; if you cling, we cling.

Negotiation failed.

Better to just burn them all.

Flames ignited in Aix’s palm.

“Aix?”

Mousse vaguely felt a trace of unease and poked his head out the window to look, just in time to see the firelight in Aix’s hand extinguish.

Looking again at the mutated plants around Aix, Mousse panicked a little.

Did Aix discover that he was going to use the mutated plants against him?

Mousse got out of the car quickly, put the main branches of the mutated plants into flower pots, and carried them back into the car.

“This is heavy, let me.”

Aix put away his ability, took the flower pot from Mousse’s hand, and helped him move them.

Mousse hesitantly let go, following beside him, observing his expression.

Still that expressionless, icy look; nothing could be discerned.

Aix was too reserved, and after becoming a zombie, his emotional fluctuations were even fewer.

It seemed only when he was embraced and entered by him would that icy, calm surface melt, revealing a more fragile and soft interior.

“I don’t want the psychic crystal core anymore.”

Mousse said suddenly.

Aix paused, looking back at him in confusion, his brows deeply furrowed.

“Why?”

Mousse had already tried absorbing crystal cores other than psychic types, but none could trigger an ability.

A psychic crystal core was his last hope to trigger an ability.

Mousse had once cared extremely about this.

He had engaged in cold wars with him several times.

He even almost broke up with him because of the psychic crystal core.

Perhaps not “almost.”

Aix thought of the look in Mousse’s eyes when he shook off his hand in the car that day…

He never dared to face it, but knew clearly in his heart that at that moment, Mousse really wanted to give up on him.

Aix believed the biggest problem between them was that psychic crystal core.

As long as he brought back the psychic crystal core for Mousse, they could return to how they were before.

The crystal core Mousse cared so much about, was almost obsessed with, the crystal core that separated them by life and death.

How could he suddenly say he was giving up?

Aix thought of something, and his expression changed slightly.

“You already know.”

“Mn, a psychic ability user. Your mission target for this trip.”

Mousse lowered his eyes, fingers brushing over the scar on his wrist, somewhat unsure how to face it.

He couldn’t accept Aix attacking an innocent ability user for his sake.

If this was the only choice, he would rather give up the chance to restore his ability.

Seeing that Mousse wasn’t willing to look at him anymore, Aix gritted his teeth and turned his head away, saying in a low voice:

“I know if I do this, you won’t forgive me. But, a psychic crystal core is your last chance to trigger an ability. I know how much you care about this chance.”

Mousse interrupted him:

“Since you know I care, why did you choose to give the crystal core to someone else back then?”

Now he wanted to remedy it in this way, not hesitating to burden himself with human lives to satisfy him… It was merely moving himself.

Under the car’s interior lights, Aix’s face was pale.

Back then, he couldn’t defend himself.

Now, he still couldn’t defend his human self from back then.

That was a decision he made himself.

Even if now, having become a zombie with all his humanity tied solely to Mousse, he couldn’t agree with that decision.

Aix could only recount his thoughts at the time through memory.

“At that time, the healer was scratched by a zombie and showed signs of infection. Only a psychic crystal core could stabilize his consciousness.”

Different crystal cores had different effects.

Just like absorbing a fire crystal core could make one feel hot in the cold winter.

A psychic crystal core could clarify one’s consciousness and was the best medicine against the zombie virus.

Aix said: “Without that psychic crystal core to save his life, he would likely have mutated into a zombie.”

Mutating into a zombie, losing thought and reason, was equivalent to death.

Mousse certainly knew the utility of a psychic crystal core.

No one knew better than him.

Mousse raised his eyes to gaze at Aix, who was earnestly explaining to him, and suddenly felt somewhat awful in his heart.

Actually, as early as when Aix gave the crystal core to someone else, he had guessed the inside story.

Rationally, he knew Aix was right to do so.

Nothing was more important than human life, especially a teammate who fought alongside him—how could he not save him?

But emotionally, he uncontrollably felt sad.

Back then, Aix was scratched by a zombie and developed a high fever.

The wound not only didn’t heal but also oozed black blood with corrosive effects.

His psychic ability screamed danger madly, urging Mousse to stay away.

Mousse didn’t leave. He cut his own wrist, took out his crystal core, and surrendered it to Aix.

He gave his own crystal core and his own ability for Aix, losing all abilities from then on, losing all future choices, becoming a dodder flower that could only live by relying on Aix.

And Aix, knowing clearly that he needed a psychic crystal core, turned around and gave the obtained crystal core to someone else.

Even with the most legitimate reason, even if it was the most reasonable choice, it couldn’t soothe Mousse’s heart.

Instead, it made all his emotions clog up in his chest, with nowhere to vent.

Because once he showed a little negative emotion, it would be disregarding human life.

He had no standpoint to be angry.

He could only bear all the emotions himself.

He didn’t get angry at Aix, nor could he take his anger out on others.

He just closed himself off.

Perhaps what he cared about wasn’t that crystal core.

But the discovery that Aix put others before him, that he was no longer Aix’s first choice.

Mousse’s fingers unconsciously stroked the scar on the inside of his wrist, and tears suddenly fell.

He really wanted to ask Aix if he had thought of him when he gave the crystal core away.

“What about me?”

Mousse asked softly with blurry tear-filled eyes:

“When you gave that crystal core away, did you remember that I also needed it?

“Now that you insist on taking that psychic ability user’s crystal core, have you considered whether I would be willing to accept it?”

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