Quick Transmigration: Only You Are the Desire of My Heart

.........

My arms, which had been suspended in a sling, had lost all feeling due to prolonged lack of blood circulation. My back was still burning with pain.

and after?

Xi Hanzhou recalled the memories slowly, but even after many years, they remained clear.

Later, they seemed to become each other's closest confidants. They spent countless days and nights entwined in each other's arms.

He was getting closer and closer to the core of the Song family, and Song Qingyin seemed to be no longer on guard against him.

Two years later, after another passionate and intense encounter, he copied her genetic information and accessed the core database of the Song family's mecha, the latest achievement developed by the Song family over generations. From then on, the two were separated by death.

Countless times in the dead of night, he would think of her. He would remember the feeling of her calloused fingertips tracing his back, her kisses tinged with the smell of alcohol, and her rare moments of vulnerability and exhaustion.

Guilt, like a poisoned vine, clung tightly to his heart.

But he kept telling himself that.

She tormented him, ruined him. He took away the Song family's secrets, making her taste the bitterness of losing what was most important to her.

A tick for a tick.

They've settled their score.

But it wasn't until he saw her again that he understood a truth: some things cannot be calculated.

*

The afternoon sun lazily streamed into the apartment, illuminating every tiny speck of dust in the air.

Song Qingyin was leaning back on the sofa, idly flipping through a paper book from ancient Earth. The pages were yellowed and smelled pleasantly of ink, but she wasn't reading a single word.

Su Che was carefully wiping a vase not far away with a soft cloth. His movements were gentle, and he dared not make a sound. He would only occasionally look up and steal a glance at her with the eyes of a small animal.

"Host, stop pretending. I know you're upset." Qingyu's voice rang in her mind. "Why don't we go take a look? What if your little toy gets broken? Where are we going to find another Omega with S-level mental strength? They're a rare breed, on par with giant pandas from ancient Earth!"

Song Qingyin ignored it, her fingertips lightly tracing the pages of the book, making a rustling sound.

"Do you even know what romance is?" she thought coldly. "If a cat catches a mouse and kills it right away, what's the point?"

[...] Qingyu choked for a moment, "But what if the mouse gets snatched away by another cat?"

"Ah."

As she was speaking, Song Qingyin's personal terminal on her wrist vibrated. She looked up and saw an encrypted email from the highest level of access in Blackstone Prison.

She clicked on it casually, and lines of cold text came into view.

"...During the interrogation, trainer Z-7 suffered a severe backlash of mental energy, resulting in permanent damage to his mental sea, and has been rendered unusable... Target G3701 is in stable condition and shows no signs of mental breakdown...Given the target's extreme danger, ordinary interrogation methods are ineffective, and we hereby request the initiation of the 'Five-Level Formatting' procedure to completely eliminate his resistance..."

Song Qingyin's gaze lingered on the words "five-level formatting," and her eyes narrowed slightly.

The so-called formatting is to use intense mental shock to turn a person's brain into a blank sheet of paper, erasing all their memories, emotions, and personality, turning them into a living dead who can only breathe.

A most thorough kind of destruction.

[What the hell! Can't take this anymore?! You're just going to delete your account like this?!] Qingyu immediately exploded, [Host! They're going to destroy your rare collection!]

Song Qingyin didn't speak, but the atmosphere around her noticeably cooled down.

She slowly closed the book in her hands, making a soft sound. Su Che, who was wiping the vase, was startled, her hand trembled, and the vase almost slipped from her grasp.

"Sister Qingyin..." he called out timidly.

Song Qingyin's fingertips tapped lightly on the terminal screen, as if she were considering something. Her excessively beautiful face revealed no emotion, only a hint of offended coldness flashed deep in her eyes.

When did it become anyone else's business to decide what to do with her things?

Do you want to turn him into an idiot?

We also need to ask her if she agrees.

[Yes, yes, that's it! Host, hurry and save him!] Qingyu rubbed her hands excitedly. [A beautiful woman saving... no, a dragon saving a knight! This kind of contrasting cuteness is sure to be a hit!]

Song Qingyin rolled her eyes inwardly and finally stood up.

She walked into the dressing room, and Su Che followed closely behind, his face full of worry: "Sister Qingyin, are you... going out?"

Without turning around, Song Qingyin precisely pulled out the only out-of-place bright red trench coat from among rows of dull-colored uniforms.

"Mm," she responded softly, draping her trench coat over her shoulders.

The bright red color made her skin appear even paler, and she looked like a blazing fire burning in the snow, dangerous yet alluring.

As she walked toward the entrance, she typed a reply on her terminal and sent it to Blackrock Prison.

The content is very simple, consisting of only four words.

—"Application rejected."

After sending the message, she didn't even look at the result and simply opened the apartment door.

"I won't be home for dinner tonight."

The door closed behind her, blocking Su Che's worried gaze.

The hovercar was already waiting downstairs. Song Qingyin got into the back seat and reported a coordinate to the intelligent system.

"Destination: Blackrock Prison."

Outside the car window, the city lights rushed past. Song Qingyin looked at her expressionless face reflected in the glass, and the corners of her mouth curved upwards very slightly.

Not just anyone can touch her things.

.........

Blackrock Prison, Warden's Office.

The atmosphere was as heavy as lead. Warden Karl, a burly, menacing retired general, stared at the four large, bright red characters on the screen with a grim expression.

— The application was rejected.

"What right does she have!" Karl slammed his fist on the metal table, making a dull thud. "Target G3701 is an S-class war criminal as determined by the Alliance, and the execution of 'Level 5 Formatting' is the final decision of the Military Committee! What right does she, a mere trainer, have to overturn it!"

The adjutant standing to the side answered cautiously, "Sir, it's Her Excellency Siren. Her authority... reports directly to the Alliance's highest intelligence department, and she has veto power when dealing with special targets."

“A special target?” Karl sneered. “He’s a key figure in the rebels, commanding numerous battles. How much effort did the Alliance go through to capture him?! He’s not some pet kept in her backyard!”

As soon as he finished speaking, the office door was silently pushed open.

A cool fragrance wafted in before anyone entered. Song Qingyin, wearing a fiery red trench coat, walked in with an air of nonchalance, as if this were not a heavily guarded prison, but her private reception room.

She came alone, and the composure of arriving alone was itself an extreme form of arrogance.

“Warden Karl,” Song Qingyin’s gaze swept over his angry face and landed on the screen in front of him, her tone languid, “It seems you have a problem with my decision?”

Karl met those smiling, alluring eyes and felt a chill run down his spine. He couldn't sense any oppressive pheromones, yet he felt a strange coldness on the back of his neck. This woman's reputation was practically taboo among the league's higher-ups.

“Sir Siren, I am merely following orders,” Karl replied firmly.

"Military order?" Song Qingyin walked to his desk, extended her fair finger, and lightly tapped the surface. "Before you, nine A-level trainers applied to carry out military orders, and what was the result? Nine destroyed mental seas and one unharmed prisoner."

"Oh, I forgot, today is the tenth."

She paused, her fingertips tracing the cold tabletop as if caressing a lover's skin.

“You call this an interrogation, I call it a waste. Now, I’m in charge of G3701. If you have any objections, you can appeal to the intelligence department.” She casually shut down all of Karl’s words. “But I suggest you hurry up, because by the time the appeal process is over, I might already be leaving this place with his ashes.”

Karl's face instantly turned a deep liver color.

【Host, you're so arrogant, I love it!】Qingyu was giving Song Qingyin a huge shout-out in her mind.

Song Qingyin didn't look at him again, turned around and walked towards the door, leaving behind only an unquestionable command.

"Take me to him."

The corridor leading to the deepest interrogation room was quieter than the last time they came. When the guards saw that red figure in the distance, they were like mice seeing a cat, wishing they could embed themselves into the wall.

"Beep—Identity confirmed. Welcome, Sir Ren."

The heavy gate slid open again.

Xi Hanzhou thought he had gotten used to the smell of blood and despair, but when that familiar, bone-chilling fragrance wafted in, his heart still involuntarily contracted.

He struggled to open his eyes.

Song Qingyin stood at the door, backlit, her fiery red trench coat like a blazing flame burning through the darkness.

She approached step by step, the sound of her high-heeled military boots hitting the ground striking his nerves with each precise step.

Xi Hanzhou looked at her, his eyelids trembling.