Chapter 78

2017, Los Angeles.

"Ralph, we've got a new case." The glass window was tapped, and Xia Qing looked up to see his blue-eyed American colleague Carl standing at the doorway of the workspace.

The 22-year-old Chinese doctoral researcher, dressed in a researcher's white coat, was seated in front of a computer, processing data from an omega's mark-erasure surgery collected earlier that morning. He was the youngest member of the experimental team and also its leader.

This was a three-month summer project personally led by Xia Qing, involving a five-member team conducting clinical trials on a patent at the LSA North America Research Institute, where his doctoral advisor, Professor Monroe, worked.

The project stemmed from Xia Qing's highly practical research during his graduate studies, focusing on the mechanisms of pheromones' effects on human respiratory function. As unique exocrine hormones tied to secondary genders, pheromones exerted complex influences on human physiology. For instance, when a dominant alpha exerted pheromone suppression on an ordinary alpha, it could briefly inhibit the latter's respiratory function.

Thus, in surgeries or treatments involving glands or pheromones, risks and difficulties increased significantly. Recently, Xia Qing had been collaborating with LSA's Secondary Gender Experimental Center to test his research findings and equipment in clinical surgeries, providing critical reference data for actual procedures.

Xia Qing stood up, the Californian sunlight streaming through the window and casting a glow on his face and shoulders, making his amber eyes glow vividly. "An emergency surgery?"

The LSA Experimental Center itself admitted many critically ill patients, so Xia Qing and his team were often notified of scheduled clinical surgeries. But a sudden case like this likely meant the center had urgently admitted a severe patient.

"Gland damage, plus *Pheromone Disorder*. And you’ll never guess what else is special about this case," Carl said animatedly. At 32, with a lean face, a hooked nose, and slightly shorter than Xia Qing, he was a research obsessive.

Another member in the workspace was Julie, a brown-haired female alpha, and Philip, a Black male alpha, both of whom also stood up. Julie remarked, "Pheromone Disorder is already rare enough. What else could be special?"

Carl raised an eyebrow and declared triumphantly, "A prime alpha."

Everyone was taken aback. Philip immediately grabbed his lab coat from the chair and headed for the door. "A prime alpha with *Pheromone Disorder*—that’s practically a breakthrough case. Is the patient already here?"

Carl stepped aside to let him pass. "Arriving in ten minutes. AGB arranged an emergency transport—an Officer is personally escorting him. If we leave now, we can get there a few minutes early to calibrate the equipment."

Julie hurried out with a folder in hand. "I’ll get Eli to drive."

Eli was the fifth member of the team, a French researcher. Carl nodded, then turned to the prime alpha in the room. "Ralph, what’s wrong? This case might be the key to wrapping up our summer work."

"Nothing," Xia Qing shook his head. "Let’s go."

August in Los Angeles felt like the peak of summer—blinding, scorching sunlight dominated the world, and stepping outside meant being instantly engulfed in suffocating heat, like invisible flames licking at the skin.

Fortunately, their research institute was part of the same complex as the Secondary Gender Experimental Medical Center, so driving to the main building’s underground parking lot took only five minutes.

Xia Qing stood in the immaculate elevator cabin, watching the floor numbers flicker. Behind him, Carl was still discussing the incoming patient’s details with Julie and the others. "Previously, this alpha underwent closed therapy combined with daily medication to maintain pheromone levels at 0.1 micrograms—functionally comparable to a beta baseline.

"But about 24 hours ago, he forcibly released a high concentration of pheromones. After losing control, half his gland was surgically excised by an external party. He’s likely now experiencing secondary sex characteristic destabilization."

Philip grimaced. "If that’s the case, preserving the gland will be extremely difficult."

Xia Qing, standing at the front, put on a mask, his expression calm and tone detached. "With *Pheromone Disorder* and gland damage, the best course is total gland resection. Even then, the rapid drop in pheromone levels could trigger systemic organ collapse."

As soon as he finished speaking, the elevator arrived at the designated floor. The doors slid open, revealing a usually quiet hallway now swarming with personnel. Medical staff in sterile scrubs moved in and out of the operating room, but most striking was the group of six or seven AGB Officers in tactical formalwear, their expressions grave and exuding palpable tension.

At the forefront stood a tall female alpha Officer. Her tailored black suit accentuated her cast-iron stoicism as she crossed her arms, staring fixedly into the emergency room.

The research team froze—over the past three months, they’d participated in emergency cases brought in by AGB, but never had they seen so many Officers present at once, let alone two or three high-ranking ones among them.

"Did they deliver an international fugitive or something?" Carl muttered jokingly behind Julie.

By then, medical staff designated for handoff were waiting along the hallway. The research team quickly split up—Xia Qing and Carl went to sterilize and enter the emergency room to maneuver the apparatus, while the other three headed to the observation room outside the operating theater to monitor and collect data via computer.

Since Xia Qing and Carl weren’t part of the surgical team, they didn’t need the rigorous sterilization required of the lead surgeon. After donning aseptic surgical gear and gloves, they entered the operating room through the inner automatic door.

Yet the moment the door opened, even the ordinarily unshakable Xia Qing stilled momentarily—the operating room was in chaos. The surgical team stood in standby formation with their hands raised, while nurses and med-techs crowded around the operating table. And among them were three AGB Officers, struggling to restrain a man in a white shirt firmly against the table.

The lead surgeon, Dr. Jin, was quite familiar with Xia Qing. Seeing Xia Qing arrive, he exchanged a knowing look. Xia Qing observed the struggling man, a flicker of confusion passing through his eyes before he nodded in understanding and asked, "Is it delirium?"

The doctor, as fully masked as Xia Qing with only his eyes visible, nodded. "This patient has a severe history of delirium during treatment in Ward 17. Now, with his gland damaged and impacted by his own pheromones, the delirium has been reactivated. Unfortunately, sedatives are ineffective on him."

Karl, standing nearby, was fascinated by the man on the operating table. The patient appeared East Asian—lean yet tall, face-down, hiding his features. Not only did he have a laceration on the back of his neck where his gland was, but his limbs and torso were also injured. He was thrashing wildly, trying to rise from the table. An AGB Officer wrestled tightly with his shoulders and head, while two other Officers restrained his lower body, using their combined weight to hold him down.

Karl couldn’t hide his surprise. "The injured is an AGB Officer?"

Another attending physician, also East Asian, sighed. "Yes. The patient was tortured by armed militants—half his gland was cut out. Now, we have to restrain him for administering IV anesthesia under restraint before removing the gland entirely."

Karl murmured, "That means his pheromone levels will crash from peak to undetectable during the procedure, and his respiratory function will be severely impacted." His tone carried an inexplicable excitement—this was the perfect data sample.

"Go calibrate the equipment," Xia Qing said nothing else.

The research team's instruments were set up on the left side of the operating room, requiring them to pass the table. Xia Qing remained composed as he stepped forward. Just then, the patient on the table, lost in a psychotic episode, erupted into another violent struggle, nearly throwing off the Officers restraining him. Xia Qing heard a low growl in Chinese: "Let me go!"

Xia Qing paused mid-step. He hadn’t expected this Officer to be Chinese.

For the first time in the operating room, the 22-year-old Xia Qing, clad in a sterile gown, found himself momentarily distracted. He lifted his gaze to see the delirious patient straining with every ounce of strength to rise from the table. Veins bulged in his arms as his wounds tore open from the struggle. Blood soaked not only his white shirt but also the uniforms of the restraining Officers, the operating table, and the floor.

Xia Qing still couldn’t see the patient’s face, obscured by blood and hair, but he heard the delirious ranting—a mix of furious curses and incoherent apologies, making the scene even more gruesome.

Through the thick mask, Xia Qing caught the patient’s pheromones—intensely rich, like an overblown bouquet, mingling with the beeping alarms of the monitors, as if marking a curtain call for some grand tragedy.

Xia Qing finally stepped forward, skirting the bloodied table to reach the equipment. As Karl operated, the patient’s blood pheromone levels and respiratory data were accurately recorded. Xia Qing then focused on monitoring heart rate, blood pressure, and other vital signs.

Within two minutes, commotion erupted behind him. Xia Qing glanced back to see nurses finally securing the frenzied patient to the table with restraints.

The three AGB Officers who had initially restrained their colleague now stood exhausted by the table, their hands and uniforms drenched in his blood.

The youngest Officer at the forefront looked the most disheveled. He stood rigidly by the table, his pale face streaked with crimson, staring blankly at the seizing patient. His piercingly bright eyes were the only hint of emotion in an otherwise blank mask.

Just then, Karl, assisting with intubation, accidentally bumped into the Officer and muttered a complaint about why he was still there. Hearing this, Xia Qing’s eyes darkened imperceptibly. He turned slightly and murmured to a nearby nurse, "Escort the family out. Comfort them."

The busy nurse noticed the Officers’ somber mood and approached, gently urging them to leave so the surgery could begin.

The young Officer slowly snapped out of his daze. He looked at the prepping medical staff and suddenly asked in English, "Are you removing the gland now?"

The assistant surgeon replied calmly, "Yes. It’s the only option."

"Will he have no pheromones after this?" the Officer pressed.

"None," the doctor answered.

No gland meant no pheromones—the question was so obvious Karl raised an eyebrow.

An experienced Black head nurse, sensing the Officer’s distress, stepped in to usher him out. "Sir, the surgery is about to begin. Please step outside to give the doctors space."

The young Officer didn’t resist. After one last lingering look at the alpha seizing on the table, he turned and left quietly.

Dr. Jin finally exhaled in relief and glanced at the monitors. "Let’s begin."

The surgery lasted a marathon five hours. Xia Qing monitored the equipment while acutely aware of the pheromones in the air fading like a retreating tide.

The scent was unfamiliar, leaving Xia Qing unmoved. As the procedure neared its end, the surgeon said wearily, "Without the gland, his entire life will be rewritten."

Unknown side effects. Lifelong medication. Xia Qing knew the surgeon wasn’t just referring to social identity but the biological toll as well.

As the doctors performed the final sutures, the research team had already collected the data, so Xia Qing and Karl stepped out of the OR first.

While heading to the pre-op area to change out of their scrub suits, Xia Qing noticed only one AGB Officer remained outside—the female alpha who had led the team earlier. Her expression was stern, and the two passed by each other without exchanging glances.

Xia Qing removed his mask, changed out of his scrub suit, and walked into the adjacent observation room in his laboratory coat.

"Finally, it's over. I really thought that prime alpha wouldn't make it halfway through," Karl said as he walked over and shook hands with Eli, who was seated in a chair.

Philip was coding the vitals and remarked, "Our real-time data guided Dr. Kim during the procedure. This operation was truly a success."

"Ralph, look at this waveform pattern—textbook perfect," Eli turned to the peak-alpha, whose expression remained indifferent. "This prime alpha just saved us a month's worth of work."

Karl shrugged and added, "Well, he's not a prime alpha anymore. Just a beta now, isn't he?"

Julie frowned. "Let's hope he survives the upcoming temperature dysregulation syndrome."

An alpha without glands and a beta were fundamentally different. Their physiological mechanisms diverged drastically, and an alpha unable to regulate pheromones could easily lose control of their body temperature, leading to severe, even fatal complications—hence the term "temperature regulation failure."

Eli seemed unconcerned. "Surviving the surgery was already lucky. Looks like we’ll get even more meaningful data now."

Karl leaned against the back of his chair and chuckled softly. "If only we had more cases like this earlier. Would've halved our workload."

"Is this how you approach life sciences?"

A voice as cold as ice suddenly cut through the room.

Karl froze, then slowly turned to see the peak-alpha standing at the center of the room, staring at him expressionlessly.

Facing this researcher a decade younger than himself, Karl and Eli’s expressions darkened. Julie instinctively tried to diffuse the tension, awkwardly saying, "Hey, it’s all for the sake of life science."

Xia Qing turned his head slightly at the sound, his gaze indifferent. "Respect for life is the foundation of science. If anyone makes such remarks again, I will have them removed from the project stat."

Karl’s face flushed with anger. His breathing grew heavy as he glared at the young research lead. "You have no right to make that decision. First, we’re not involved in the surgery. Second, the patient’s condition has nothing to do with us. And third—how I speak is my freedom. My words neither harm the patient nor compromise the data. My contributions have always been of absolute value."

"Your claim that your words have no negative impact is a narrow judgment," Xia Qing replied calmly. "I believe your remarks today constitute disrespect toward the patient and disregard for life, violating the experiment’s purpose. This is just a warning."

"Spare us the moralizing," Karl sneered. "Don’t tell me you're sympathizing just because that beta today was Chinese."

"Ralph, though his situation is tragic, Karl and I were just joking. The work environment is so tense—we were just trying to lighten the mood," Eli interjected, forcing himself to meet Xia Qing’s gaze.

"Next time, immediate removal."

With that, the peak-alpha slammed the files down on the table. The loud impact sent a jolt through everyone in the room.

As Xia Qing pushed the door open to leave, he saw the hospital bed being wheeled out in the distance. The waiting female alpha immediately rushed forward, bending down with an unexpected vulnerability breaking through her usual cold demeanor.

The 22-year-old Xia Qing stood still, watching from afar. For some reason, he couldn’t conjure the face of the person lying on that bed at all.

Meanwhile, Karl muttered furiously from behind the door:

"You don’t even know him!"

---

2022, Hong Kong.

"I know you."

Xia Qing stood in the empty hospital room, his amber eyes piercingly bright as they locked onto the alpha Inspector at the door. In that instant, a cruel and terrifying story took shape in his mind. He seemed to catch that cloyingly sweet pheromones again—then found himself back in that cold OR, witnessing that lifeflow slowly, irrevocably drying up. But back then, he hadn’t known who it belonged to, what it meant. And so, he had felt not a trace of sorrow or regret.

For the first time, the prime alpha whose life had become a blank slate due to lost memory felt the cruelty of fate so viscerally. It was as if some unseen, mischievous force had deliberately wrapped a blade in sugar and placed it in his grasp, only to guide it straight into that person's chest.

And the cruelest part was that by the time he realized it, all of this had already passed—far, far too long ago. The belated pain no longer crashed over him like a tsunami, but instead became a terrible, absurd, and pitiable festering wound, destined to linger as an eternal, unresolved agony in the years to come.

But fortunately, at least in this very second—when the blood-soaked story connected its beginning and end—the 28-year-old Xia Qing saw his past self, coldly observing from the sidelines, and a tidal wave of hatred erupted in his chest.

Zeiss, standing nearby, was about to say something more, but the next moment he froze in place, his gaze flickering with shock.

In the silent hospital room, the prime alpha lifted his face, a single tear sliding down his pale cheeks—this time, the 28-year-old Xia Qing could finally recognize with clarity that this pain no longer belonged to anyone else, nor to any moment in the past.

It belonged solely to himself, here and now.