words, no matter what the object is.
"Talking about what?" he asked.
"Anything is fine!" Yasha showed a big smile, "I want to know about you."
329 is an exile, a felon, in his thirties, working three jobs. His schedule is very full, very full, and there is nothing to talk about except work. And if Asha can regulate his schedule with water, electricity and transportation, of course she knows the minutiae of those jobs.
"There's nothing to say." 329 thought for a while, and finally replied, "You should know everything."
"Knowing it's different from saying it yourself," Asha said. "Can you talk about... the past?"
"I don't remember." 329 blurted out.
He doesn't remember much, really, really, nothing left. He pursed his lips, folded his arms defensively, stepped back slightly, and slammed his back against the door. The room was small and there was no room to retreat. Yasha waved her hands hurriedly, shook her head frequently, and said repeatedly: "Then let's not talk about this! I didn't mean to make you unhappy!"
"I really don't remember." 329 repeated, "I had the surgery and it was a success."
If felons are no longer thrown out of shelters, how can we ensure that these criminals will no longer cause harm
There is a control system on the collar, which can stop all criminal acts. Before putting on the collar, felons undergo a minor surgery. Some people are born with bad embryos, and surgery can correct them. Some people are just bewitched by others. Surgery can erase those memories and make the infected soul pure and innocent again.
It's not one of those ancient amputations that turn people into idiots or even have life-threatening memory slices. They just lose part of the bad stuff and just get corrected and helped. The operation destroys the person who committed the crime in the past, and the person left behind will not have the idea of crime again.
"Tell me about myself!" Yasha changed the subject abruptly, "A few days ago I played 'full load' with a new drone, and my mother praised me."
"Oh..." 329 said dully, "That's good."
"I've been learning this since I was eight years old." Yasha smiled quite complacently. "Actually, I would rather drive a field machine, but they won't let me, saying it's dangerous. No wonder, I've grown up and no one The plane has never crashed once, nor has it encountered a flock of mutant falcons."
Only then did 329 realize that what Yasha said was not about playing simulated battles in the machine. She was talking about manipulating drones to hunt mutant creatures outside the sanctuary, "full load" is a full warehouse, full of prey for a drone.
Unlike folk hunters who must make a living from it, drones are a casual game for the rich and powerful.
"It's very dangerous." 329 said.
"It's not that dangerous, if the driver is good enough." Yasha said, "I'm very good!"
"No matter how powerful you are, you may encounter accidents, but you only have one life." 329 said.
"But there are many people who are not afraid of accidents!" Yasha argued, "Some people can get in and out of mutant creatures and dense artillery fire, smash the statue of the archon and escape successfully, and his plane is unexpectedly powered. Not enough!"
It seems that there is such a thing, 329 has a vague impression. The Archon statue is hundreds of meters high and they had wanted it to be the symbol of the sanctuary. But an airplane, a civilian-modified airplane, knocked off the face of the statue, and the sculpture was never built.
"I didn't know you supported the revolution." 329 said, not seriously.
"No." Yasha laughed. "But the pilot is very good-looking, and the plane looks handsome when it shuttles through the laser. Besides, that statue is stupid anyway. Who would put such a big self on the road?"
329 couldn't help laughing, even if he only had a vague memory, he still remembered that it was a major event that shook the entire shelter. Asha talked about the knocked-off face of the Consul statue, as if talking about how an ugly portrait was damaged, and her tone was very relaxed, as if it was not as noteworthy as the good-looking pilot.
"He's still in trouble, that pilot." 329 squinted his eyes and recalled, but didn't remember much, "If not, there should be reports now."
"That's right." Yasha lowered her head, and cheered up after a while, "But a fallen eagle can also be turned into a beautiful specimen."
"Or a mass of rotten flesh." 329 broke the stage.
"No, as long as you take good care of it." Yasha said firmly, "Even if it is broken, restoration technology can make a mass of carrion look as beautiful as it was when it was alive-not yet, but the research institute will always invent it, as long as they Focus on that."
She was so confident, as if accidents and natural laws would yield if she wished. If it were someone else, the arrogance born with a silver spoon in her mouth would have been disgusting, but Yasha spoke too frankly, and she also had a tone of seeking approval, just like when she said "I am very good". This is very strange, like showing off and showing favor, reserved and eager, as if a child puts all her toys in front of you, holds her head up, and looks forward to your praise and admiration.
She is really too young.
Yasha sat on the bed, the edge of the bed was a bit high for her, her feet couldn't reach the ground, and her heels dangled in the air, dangling around. She raised her face, and turned her head wherever 329 walked, like a sunflower. It was evening now, and the afterglow of the setting sun penetrated through the gaps in the building and fell on her, making her red hair more brilliant, like a fox with fiery red fur. The green-eyed fox stared at 329 as though he couldn't get enough of it.
329 thinks of a beef ad.
A cow advertises a beef restaurant, declaring that he wants to be cooked by the restaurant because the chefs here are skilled and love to cook. When 329 saw the ad, he felt that the ad was really stupid and full of human assumptions—for a slaughtered animal, is there any difference between the meat being cooked with enthusiasm or thrown directly into the trash
By now, he had subtly understood the mood of that virtual cow.
"Shall we start?" he asked.
Yasha froze for a moment, then nodded happily.
4. The second time
329 went to get the condom, Yasha grabbed his hand.
"I don't want to use this." She complained coquettishly, "I want to go directly inside you."
329 paused for a moment, and Alpha called out his health certificate. The inspection time was just earlier today (the nobles only need a scan for their physical examination, which is very convenient and fast), and there are only avatars as usual.
"I'm not necessarily healthy," 329 said.
Yasha moved her finger and projected 329's medical examination report last month on the wall. "In good health", "pass", "qualified".
"I got fucked after that," 329 said. "One or two times, they didn't wear a condom."
"But last time I scanned you, after you fell asleep." Yasha stuck out her tongue, as if she was sorry for not telling him, and only for not telling him, "You are healthy, and I will give you back You're vaccinated, you won't get anything."
"I didn't know there was a vaccine for STDs," 329 said.
"Yes." The girl giggled, "It's just that the cost is too high to promote."
Regarding the treatment of mild radiation sickness, there has been no progress in these years, and venereal diseases have been cured, and even vaccines have appeared. Probably because of mild radiation sickness only low-level scavengers are infected, and the upper class are more concerned about whether they can happily do whatever they want.
It sounds like raising a stray animal, 329 thinks, providing food and companionship when he is in a good mood, although there is no intention of raising it, but he must be vaccinated first - otherwise he will be too dangerous and dirty, even as a pastime nothing. Should you be happy that you have lost your fertility long ago? If not, she would probably have to bother with neutering him.
Yasha looked at him expectantly, there was no tension in that expectation, she was just waiting for him to agree quickly.
329 nodded, he couldn't do anything except nod.
He lifted Asha's skirt and pulled her panties up to her knees. He didn't dare to pull her underwear to the ground or throw them on the bed, but Yasha kicked off her shoes hastily, took off her panties and threw them on the bed. The girl was wearing white stockings, and 329 knelt down between her legs, holding her in his arms, and the legs wrapped in stockings rested on his shoulders.
Her legs are as small and light as her own, a kind of lightness with well-proportioned flesh and blood, not the malnourished emaciation that is common in 329. The two feet moved on his shoulders from time to time, because of the pleasure, it seemed to be playing. Sometimes 329 wants to put his hands under her armpits, lift her up, shake her, and weigh her. This kind of thinking is unreasonable and unnecessary. The girl is healthy, like a pocket plant, or just not yet in bloom.
She doesn't taste any peculiar smell, and even has a scent of shower gel, which almost makes 329 suspect that she just took a shower before meeting each other. Maybe it's because she's still young, maybe that's the case for an alpha from a wealthy family who just came of age, who knows. As an alpha, she seemed too delicate and tender, standing on the dividing line between a child and an alpha, she didn't know what she would look like in the future.
It's not that 329 thinks she's going to be rude... a cruel alpha doesn't have to be rough, they just don't care.
The young alpha panted with his neck raised, his neck curved in a graceful arc. She bit her lower lip suddenly, lowered her head, and stared at 329 again. her gaze