After Fusheng lost consciousness, his ghost seemed to fall into a bizarre hallucination.
The hallucination told him that he was now among the Zerg.
Zerg? Were they edible? Fried Zerg or grilled Zerg? He wouldn't accept them boiled, though he could stomach dirt at this point.
Evidently, they were not for eating. This was a Zerg world where females far outnumbered males. The male-to-female ratio had always been imbalanced, historically maintaining a ratio of about 1:200. Because males were scarce, the Zerg had always held males in high esteem and females in low regard, and males could take many females as spouses. Males were divided into five ranks from E to A based on pheromone strength, while females were divided into five ranks from C to SS based on the strength of their spiritual power. Females were further split into sub-Zerg and ordinary females; unlike the tall, strong, and mentally powerful ordinary females, sub-Zerg were smaller in stature and more favored by males.
The Zerg worldview was more feudal than any ancient dynasty, completely shattering Fusheng's limited sense of reality.
The hallucination flickered like shadows in the light, moving entirely beyond his control, which made Fusheng frantic and irritable. He had no interest in these ethereal scenes—damn this first-person perspective that refused to be commanded! After a fit of ghostly wailing, he gave up on trying to control the hallucination. He even wanted to find a chair, sit down, do a nice split, lazily pull out a bag of melon seeds, and spit the shells and his saliva into this hallucination, preparing to experience the life of some perverted Zerg.
That was until a familiar face appeared in the hallucination.
The little white-haired one—oh, he should be called Alvano.
The hallucination finally ended. What a foolish, wretched illusion. Everything fell into endless darkness. Fusheng wanted to smash a chair into the face of this piece-of-shit hallucination.
The protagonist of the hallucination was named Chris Fusheng. What a perverted and short life. This bug, Chris Fusheng, really had a charmed life. Why him? Why wasn’t it him? Why?
The frantic jealousy in Fusheng’s heart threatened to tear him apart. Just because this piece of shit Chris Fusheng was a pervert and a sadist? Actually, he was a pervert too; he was also a sadist. He loved torturing malevolent spirits—how could that not count as being a sadist? Plus, he was a mad ghost—the little ghosts around him always said so, though he didn't agree. He could go on a rampage for an entire night without stopping, and his ghostly wails were quite melodic. He... he had many other merits too; there was no need to list them one by one. He really wanted Chris Fusheng’s life.
He was far more perverted than Chris Fusheng; Chris Fusheng wasn't even worth his toe. Heavens, this wasn't right. This should have been his. After all, he was perfectly suited for this perverted Zerg world. He really was a pervert—give it to him!
Fusheng thought gloomily, a crazy, perverted smile spreading across his face. He wanted it so badly that he opened his mouth to chomp hungrily at the air. He wanted to devour all the air around him. He ate, and ate, and ate... he devoured it all. Finally, having eaten all the surrounding air, excellent! There was a suffocating beauty to it.
His mind cleared for a moment, but then it grew hazy again. Why? Why did Chris Fusheng have so many Zerg doting on him, treating him like a treasure, while he had nothing? Even his father had been willing to spend 2.5 million Star Coins to redeem that piece of shit—why didn’t he have such luck? At least he wasn't some stinking piece of shit. He didn’t envy Chris Fusheng; he was just jealous.
The black mist surrounding Fusheng solidified, champing at the air in the void. He had seen the rest of the contents, but Fusheng didn't care. He only saw that everyone loved this stinking piece of shit, Chris Fusheng, and his perversion. Fusheng was already wondering if he wasn't perverted enough. Their names were only one character apart, yet their fates were so different.
Fusheng thought for a second and concluded it must be that he wasn't perverted enough, or his ghostly wails weren't pleasant enough. It couldn't be any other reason. He thought for another second; he wanted Chris Fusheng's life—the life force in both the physical and metaphysical sense. This was the first time—no, the countless time—the thought of wanting to claim a life had risen in his mind. He wanted to replace their fate.
Because there were too many people, and this bug had a better life than him. He didn’t even glance at the ones with miserable lives, like the Zerg females—they were all miserable, especially the pitifully tortured Alvano. He preferred to linger around people with good lives, watching them be happy and laughing joyfully. He would follow along, grinning, though his face was twisted and his laughter was shrill and sinister. You didn't even need to hear the sound; just looking at Fusheng’s twisted, ferocious face told you he was filled with resentment.
Because of this little hobby of his, his resentment grew heavier every day, wrapping his entire ghost body in black mist. Fusheng even felt smugly that it kept him warm, though ghosts didn't fear the cold. Ghosts within a five-hundred-mile radius could smell this sour stench. The little ghosts born within a hundred miles of Fusheng were so terrified they wished they could crawl back into their bodies or be reincarnated on the spot.
Fusheng was in his usual state now, sour and bitter. What a pity, perhaps it was just a void hallucination. Fusheng felt a pang of regret and lamented in his heart—he was nearly ready to shed a basin of hot tears to quench the tiny fire in his heart. Don't let him see Chris Fusheng, or he wouldn't be able to resist gnawing Chris Fusheng's brain clean so that his ghost could move in. Fusheng thought viciously, and the black mist around him clawed and danced as if it wanted to tear something apart.
But the surroundings were a void. Fusheng suddenly opened his eyes from his meditation. His eyes were blood-red, shimmering with wisps of black mist. With a wave of his hand, carrying uncontrolled ghostly power, the dark and void hallucination shattered instantly.
A familiar white light replaced the darkness; it was somewhat blinding. He instinctively raised his arm to shield his eyes. His wrists seemed to be locked by something; as he moved them, the chains made a crisp, metallic clinking sound. He tried to move his legs but found they couldn't move either, tightly locked to the bed.
Feeling the familiar ceiling above and the tactile sensation of lying down, he knew he finally had a body.
"Hehehehe..." Fusheng was so happy he wanted to let out another frantic ghostly wail. But someone seemed even happier than him, which he could not allow. An urgent, joyful voice interrupted his wailing.
"Your Excellency, you are finally awake! How are you? Is there anything uncomfortable?"
Fusheng’s expression turned cold immediately. He looked at the brown-haired female Zerg by the bed and coldly spat out a single word: "Scram."
They were interrupting his daily activity—ghostly wailing.
"Fu... Your Excellency Fusheng, I..." The brown-haired female Zerg was startled and terrified, stammering as he tried to explain. Before he could finish, a red-haired female Zerg pulled him behind himself.
"Your Excellency, I am Cohen, your attending physician." Cohen said with a smile, pointing to the name tag on his chest. "Your Excellency, is there anywhere that feels uncomfortable since you woke up? Tell me, will you? Once I know, the pain will just fly away." Cohen looked at Fusheng, smiling kindly, his tone like he was coaxing a child. Little males of the Zerg were always fond of being coaxed, and since Your Excellency Fusheng had only just come of age, he was naturally a little male cub.
"Are you talking to me, Your Excellency?" Fusheng restrained the frantic joy in his heart and asked tentatively. He couldn't believe it; his wish had actually come true! He was even more effective than the turtle in a wishing well. This was much faster than reincarnation—he had grown up to eighteen in a single blink.
Cohen saw the male’s trembling body and assumed he was afraid. Savage Space Pirates wouldn't call a male Zerg "Your Excellency"—perhaps the poor male had even been beaten.
"Yes, Your Excellency. You are a noble male of our Zerg race. You are in the hospital now and are safe. Don't be afraid, Your Excellency." Cohen looked at the frightened male with pity, thinking that those damn Space Pirates, not even sparing such a small male, must be brought to justice.
Cohen looked at the medical staff behind him and the tall military females at the door, thinking there were too many bugs and they had frightened the timid male. He explained to Fusheng, "Don't be afraid, Your Excellency. These are all female Zerg here to protect your safety. No one would dare to harm you."
This red bug was really talking to him. Fusheng’s body shook even more violently.
"Keep calling me that," Fusheng said, suppressing his frantic voice. The smile on his lips couldn't be stopped, and the chains on his wrists rattled loudly as his body trembled.
The female Zerg in the room were baffled, looking at the clearly manic male, feeling anxious and unsure which words had stimulated the sensitive male. Was it the mention of the Space Pirates? Cohen felt a bit remorseful and blamed himself.
"Your Excellency, you..." Before Cohen could finish, he was interrupted by Fusheng’s satisfied and manic tone.
"Yes, keep calling me that."
Cohen and the others finally understood Fusheng’s meaning. Although the male's order was inexplicable, for such a small request, they would certainly satisfy the poor male.
A small request? Hopefully, Cohen would still think so later.