He didn't write a single word.
Just kidding.
My dwindling sanity and blurred bottom line successfully stopped me at a critical moment. I thank them, otherwise, when I wake up, I'm afraid I will despise myself to death.
But. . . I looked down and found that Axiu had not calmed down yet.
"Do you want to. . ." I was a little excited, but also hesitant, "do you want to solve it?"
His body stiffened, and I saw him grit his teeth and shake his head from the side. He slowly let go of my hand, clenched it into a fist, and deeply pinched his nails into his flesh. Then he recklessly slammed his waist against the bathtub wall.
Axiu groaned and immediately collapsed in pain. The short nails left several blood marks in his palm.
I took a cold breath, as if I could feel his pain.
I was stunned. I never thought Axiu could be so ruthless to himself. In addition to shock, I was also a little worried. What if he hurt himself badly?
The therapy device didn't say it could treat that thing. However, Axiu seemed to not care at all. This self-torturing behavior even made him show a fierce and happy expression on his face, as if it could prove that he would not be bound by sudden desires. His tense muscles also relaxed in an instant.
I opened my mouth, but suddenly forgot what I wanted to say.
I thought for a while but couldn't remember, so I gave up.
I took out a sticky note from my pocket and forcefully handed him a pen, then lifted my chin and said, "Okay, let's do something else. I have a few questions to ask you."
Axiu knelt at a distance from me, bowing his head and staring at the pen.
It was an ordinary steel pen that could be found everywhere in the shops on the capital star.
Nowadays, paper is made from special minerals mined from the original mineral star, which is thick and hard. The blunt pen tips that used to be popular cannot leave clear writing on it, so pen tips have become sharper, especially steel pens.
Someone had done research before. If an alpha used all their strength and quickly stabbed a steel pen that could be bought on the market, the sharp pen tip could directly pierce a mouse's neck.
After the experimental video was released on the star network, it aroused a lot of dissatisfaction and concerns from families with or planning to have children, who were worried that such dangerous pens would affect their children's safety. The voices of resistance spread throughout society, mainly from omegas.
Alphas didn't care. They never lacked omegas, and naturally wouldn't lack a child. So in the end, this matter was left unresolved.
The news reported that after multiple experiments, it was determined that only strong and healthy adult alphas could achieve the desired effect by using all their strength to strike the weakest and most vulnerable part of a mouse. Therefore, the threat to children is not as great as rumored, and the public can reduce unnecessary worries and panic.
Axiu looked at the pen for too long, so long that I became a little impatient.
What's so good about a broken pen?
I checked the time on my light brain and found that my favorite game live stream was about to start. If I continued to dawdle, I would miss it. So I bent my fingers and knocked on the bathtub wall, and asked in a not-so-good tone, "Can you write?"
He remained silent, but tightened his grip on the steel pen. His pen-holding posture was somewhat unfamiliar but very standard. Much better than mine.
Axiu's fingertips were exposed in front of me, and I noticed that his nails were short, with uneven and rough edges, and there were several cracks on the nail bed, as if they had been split by excessive force.
But his hand was still very attractive.
Not the delicate and slender kind of beauty, but the beauty of distinct bones, broad palms, and full of strength. I remembered the feeling of his hand grabbing my back during intense exercise, with rough palms and calluses on his fingertips. Although his nails were not long, scratching me still hurt a bit.
. . . I couldn't help but have some wild thoughts.
However, Axiu was already ready, looking up at me with a slightly furrowed brow and a serious expression that couldn't be more serious. I cleared my throat and began to ask questions.
"What's your name?"
. . .
"Do you have any family, or are you alone?"
. . .
"Where are you from? Why are you hiding in the alley?"
. . .
"What about your injuries? Who did them?"
. . .
I propped up my chin and looked down at him. Axiu was kneeling in the bathtub, holding a pen in his hand. The tip of the pen had been hovering over a spot on the paper for too long, and the black ink had spread out in all directions, leaving a stain that was very conspicuous on the blank note. He didn't write a single word.
As expected.
Luckily, I was mentally prepared for this, otherwise I might have been driven crazy by his unresponsive and tight-lipped demeanor.
Since he didn't want to answer any serious questions, I shook my leg and pressed down on his thigh, leaning forward and tracing my fingertips along his neck, circling around to the back and lightly rubbing it twice.
The distance was too close, and I could clearly see his neck trembling.
"Surely you can answer this one, right?"
My tone sounded a bit flirtatious, but I didn't mean it that way. I just couldn't control myself and wanted to push him a little.
"You better hurry," I moved to the front again, pretending to grab the two metal rings, and leaned in close to his ear, lowering my voice, "I'm not a patient person, if you take too long. . ."
A-Xiu suddenly dodged backwards, glaring at me with his eyes, his sharp teeth almost grinding together.
I chuckled lightly and stuck a new note on his open chest, feeling the warm and elastic skin through the paper. I know the feeling there is extremely good.
"Write it down."
Wasn't I threatening him?
I just wanted to understand better the metal ring that was clamped onto him through the person involved, so I could come up with a solution.
It's just that maybe the person involved doesn't like my overly straightforward and direct approach.
But I can't help it.
My favorite game livestream is about to start in less than half an hour, so I'm in a hurry.
Ashu was half-leaning on the edge of the bathtub, bowing his head to write, his gray-white hair softly hanging down, blocking the note paper so I couldn't see what he was writing.
But it's okay, there's no need to rush things.
I straightened out my messy robe and planned to blow dry my hair first. Although it wasn't dripping anymore, it was still damp and uncomfortable against my face and neck. I got up and walked to the sink, taking out the hair dryer from the cabinet. As I blow-dried my hair, I turned to look at Axiu.
He was still writing, but each stroke seemed to take a long time, and he wrote slowly and laboriously. His hair was also wet, messy and sticking together, with the ends dripping water.
Although the room was temperature-controlled, I didn't have a sadistic tendency to mistreat a small dog by leaving him with wet hair.
I blow-dried my own long hair until it was almost dry, then walked over and aimed the hair dryer's nozzle directly at his head.
I turned the power up to the maximum, and the sudden blast of hot air made Axiu instinctively close his eyes, his messy hair swaying in front of his forehead. His eyelashes were also light-colored, long and thick, like small brushes, and were blown down by the wind.
He nervously adjusted for a few seconds before opening his eyes and looking at me in surprise.
I whistled at him, as if playing the rogue: "Are you done writing?"
Axiu knelt in the bathtub, his hair soft and drooping, with a few unruly strands standing up on his head, swaying in the wind, looking very obedient and submissive.
I held out my hand in front of his eyes, and he paused his writing and handed me the note without hesitation.
That's more like it. I was very satisfied with his cooperation and looked down at the words on the note. Axiu's handwriting is very beautiful. It is said that one's handwriting reflects their personality, and it really matches his appearance with strong and powerful lines. However, there are a few strokes that are not very smooth, probably because he hasn't written for a long time.
Originally, I looked at it with curiosity and a narrow-minded attitude, but as I kept looking, I slowly pursed my lips.
. . . I really didn't expect that the teasing joke I made was actually true.
The metal collar he wears uses some special technique to fit the curve of his neck, tightly and seamlessly. It allows for eating, airflow, and even gasping and moaning, but it does not allow for speaking or vomiting.
It also comes with the function of electric shock and automatic contraction, which is both a punishment for Axiu and a means for those people to better satisfy their desires.
It is indeed missing a metal chain.
"Unless you're hanging from the chain," I slowly read aloud, "you can't speak?"
Axiu was lying on the edge of the bathtub, half-closed eyes, looking very tired. I looked at him and he nodded slowly.
"What about other functions? Do they also rely on a metal chain?" I continued to ask, pointing to the unfinished half-word on the note, watching his head move up and down again.
No wonder he had such a big reaction when I hooked the collar and made a metallic collision sound. It turned out to be deliberately trained. Before the brain even becomes aware, the body has already firmly memorized every command.
"So where is your chain that controls you?"
He looked up with a hint of self-deprecating mockery in his eyes. Axiu shook his head, grabbed a new piece of paper, and wrote a word very hastily.
". . . all of them?"
What does that mean? I was a little confused for a moment. He noticed and lowered his head to write a few more strokes.
[Anything will do. ]
I took the paper and stared at the words, feeling indescribable. Then I turned to look at Axiu. He looked dejected, as if he had already fully accepted the fact that he had been brought home by a strange alpha.
Anything will do.
Any metal chain will do.
Any person. . . will do. In my heart, there is still some conscience that has not yet been extinguished. I rubbed the half-dried ink on the paper and felt a little sorry for him.
Author's note:
After being silent for so long, I am finally able to speak. It is a relief.
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- The End -