Against the Algorithm

Chapter 48: Checkups and Consequences

"You'd send me to her?" Pang whispered, stricken.

"If you can't listen to your Captain and Boss," Sicheng replied calmly, "then you can face the Number One Harpy and see if you fare better."

"I'm being sacrificed," Pang hissed, clutching his form like it was a holy relic. "They're sacrificing me to the Dragon Matriarch."

Yao, hiding a small smile behind her hand, leaned over just enough to pat his shoulder. "You'll survive."

"Barely," Pang mumbled. "Someone save me a steamed bun for the afterlife."

"Start with steamed broccoli." Sicheng smirked faintly, already turning away.

The ride back to the base was unusually calm. No one was arguing over aux cord control, no one was trying to smuggle contraband snacks in their hoodie pockets (though Pang sat in the corner by the window, mourning what could've been) , and even Yue was scrolling his phone in near-silence—mostly, anyway.

Yao sat beside Sicheng, curled slightly toward him with a soft blanket draped across her lap. It wasn't until the quiet hum of the bus had lulled her mind back into full awareness that Yao blinked and sat up slightly. "Wait..." she murmured aloud, her brows furrowing slightly. "Coach Kwon... wasn't at the appointment today."

Sicheng tilted his head slightly. "No, he wasn't."

"And he wasn't at the last one either," she continued, now visibly surprised. "Why didn't I notice that before?"

From the seat across the aisle, Lao K let out a dry snort and didn't even look up from his phone. "That's because Coach Kwon's a full-blown health nut," he muttered, tone flat with amusement. "You didn't know?"

Yao blinked. "Wait—seriously?"

"He's the real deal," Lao K confirmed. "Dude barely eats out. No late-night meals. No snacks unless he made them himself. Doesn't even look at energy drinks."

"Doesn't touch sugar," Lao Mao added from up front. "And he runs five miles before we're even awake."

"I saw him eat a salad with no dressing," Yue chimed in with mild horror. "Just leaves. And tofu. Like a rabbit. But with judgment."

Pang groaned from where he was still curled dramatically against the window. "He's the health standard none of us can live up to..."

"That's why Madam Lu didn't schedule him," Lao K finished, glancing briefly over. "She probably ran his chart once and went, 'Yep. That one can live to be 110. Moving on.' "

Yao blinked slowly, processing all this, before leaning toward Sicheng again. "I thought he was just really boring at lunch."

Sicheng smirked. "He's focused."

"He eats quinoa," Yue muttered. "Voluntarily."

There was a beat of silence before Pang sighed heavily. "I've been replaced," he whispered. "By a man who eats steamed kale."

Yao giggled softly, resting her head against Sicheng's shoulder. "At least Coach Kwon's not in danger of getting sent to Madam Lu."

Pang whimpered. "Don't remind me."

The moment the team stepped back into the base, shoes off, jackets shrugged onto hooks, and the comfort of their familiar chaos returning, Lu Sicheng's voice cut through the hallway with sharp, Captain-level authority. "Alright. Everything unhealthy, processed, or remotely resembling Pang's hoard of sodium-laced regret—toss it."