Clingy! The Sickly but Beautiful and Strong Alpha Is a Loyal Puppy Who Needs Pampering - Chapter 7

In one of the vast laboratories at the research institute, various instruments emitted disorderly beeping sounds.

Long tubes connected to cylindrical glass containers filled with green liquid. Inside them lay men and women with closed eyes, their mouths covered by breathing apparatuses, surrounded by floating transparent bubbles.

The forty or fifty researchers observing the subjects immediately turned when they saw Bei Yin: “Sister Bei.”

Bei Yin nodded. “How’s the brain tissue and heart restoration progressing?”

“All eighteen were successfully restored yesterday.”

Bei Yin took the gloves handed to her by a researcher. “Let’s begin.”

When a Beta died, as long as their brain tissue and heart hadn’t necrotized, field medics would swiftly extract and preserve these organs—along with the memories stored in the brain—using specialized containers.

Then, primarily through manual labor supplemented by specialized equipment, the brain tissue and heart would be transplanted into an artificial body.

Finally, machinery would activate the connection between the new body and the preserved memories, allowing the deceased to be reborn in a new body with their old memories intact.

After about half a month of rehabilitation to adapt to the new body, they could return to the battlefield.

This was the “Memory-Transfer Resurrection” technology.

While academics preferred this term, the common name for it was simply—Human Resurrection.

Due to physiological constraints in Alphas and Omegas, only Betas—who lacked scent glands and couldn’t detect pheromones—could undergo the procedure.

Mastering this technology instantly elevated a doctor’s status and authority.

The forty-something admirers watched Chief Researcher Bei with reverent eyes as she demonstrated the procedure while explaining it step by step.

Others would guard such knowledge jealously, yet Sister Bei was teaching them hands-on.

It was like personally handing them the tools of their livelihood, earning genuine respect and admiration.

Bei Yin didn’t think much of it.

While this technology seemed extraordinary in District 6, it was commonplace in District 1.

In fact, she’d heard rumors that researchers in District 1 had already developed resurrection techniques far more advanced than memory-transfer.

Most importantly, she couldn’t stay in District 6 forever, and the kind-faced but ruthless Shen Yasi wouldn’t let her leave easily.

By training dozens of skilled successors, she would become less indispensable.

Bei Yin completed one procedure in under ten minutes. While taking a water break, she overheard two recent graduates discussing:

“With today’s technology, we could mass-produce robots. So why do we still rely on humans as the main combat force? Wouldn’t robots be more efficient?”

Bei Yin walked over with a faint smile. “They are indeed more durable and efficient, and can even be implanted with independent thinking systems. But ultimately, they still prioritize issued commands.”

“For example, a soldier would prioritize saving lives over completing a mission, whereas a robot would prioritize the mission over human lives. That’s why they can only serve as supplements—they can never replace flesh-and-bl00d humans with emotions and desires.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. “Right! So, we need to master resurrection technology quickly, so no more parents have to mourn their children!”

Bei Yin clapped her hands cheerfully. “Alright, let’s get back to work.”

…

Some procedures were quick, while others were complex and time-consuming. It wasn’t until 1 AM that Bei Yin finally emerged, rubbing her sore neck.

“Sorry for the wait. You must be hungry?”

Ruanruan had been sprawled bored across a table, but at the sight of her, she sprang up like an excited puppy finally seeing its owner return.

“Not hungry! You worked hard, sis.”

Seeing the beautiful face full of exhaustion, Ruanruan raised her hand to massage her shoulders.

Bei Yin sat on the chair but mischievously leaned to the left.

She glanced back and, sure enough, the tall, long-legged Alpha drooped her head with a pitiful expression.

“Pfft—my left side is sore. Massage the left, thanks.”

Ruanruan instantly perked up.

She swept her slightly curled hair aside and pressed her thumb along the edge of Bei Yin’s scent gland, kneading with just the right pressure.

As she continued, Bei Yin felt faint traces of pheromones seep from the fingertips at the back of her neck.

The scent of cold snow that drifted into her senses wasn’t strong—just the faintest whisper.

Like a kitten’s tail, it brushed against her gland teasingly, stirring waves of tingling numbness.

At such a minuscule concentration—barely a fraction of a percent—it couldn’t even stir a flutter in her heart.

So, she didn’t stop the little leopard’s playful behavior.

Instead, she became like a perfumer, savoring the pheromones she adored.

But then, the little leopard grew increasingly mischievous, and the pheromones thickened.

In no time, the air around them was saturated with the mellow aroma of cold snow and wine.

Bei Yin steadied her slightly dizzy head. Her gland warmed faintly, and her heart tightened and raced uncontrollably.

It… also smelled better and better. Instinctively, she craved more of the Alpha’s clean, refreshing scent.

Bei Yin exhaled a heated breath. “I’m feeling a little… unwell.”

Hearing this, the pheromones stopped flowing.

Ruanruan pulled a small bottle of suppressant spray from her pocket and spritzed half of it, masking both her own scent and the lingering traces in the air.

Then, she crouched in front of Bei Yin.

As Bei Yin steadied herself, she lightly tapped Ruanruan’s forehead with a finger. “You’re the one acting up, yet you’re the one looking all pitiful now?”

“Wuu…”

Bei Yin scowled. “You released pheromones at thirty percent concentration—what if it triggers my heat early?”

“Hmm?” Ruanruan tilted her head. “No way, it was only two percent.”

Bei Yin: “…”

Bei Yin: “Impossible.”

Her gland had never tasted pheromones before, so she wasn’t particularly sensitive to Alpha scents.

Like that time when that rotten cabbage released thirty units, she only felt the effects then—though she immediately blocked it with a device.

—A genius invention from her darling girlfriend in the research institute’s weapons division, custom-made to repel that scumbag’s pheromones.

But it could only block sixty percent.

A one-of-a-kind device in the world—after all, she was probably the only Omega who despised other Alphas.

Ruanruan immediately understood. “It really wasn’t anywhere near thirty percent—just two, teasing you a little.”

“This… this… this…”

“Clearly, it’s because you’re sensitive to my pheromones. Extremely sensitive. Even the tiniest bit and—”

She didn’t finish, just tilted her head with a soft smile, her eyes brimming with the satisfaction of being uniquely needed.

Bei Yin rubbed her forehead in confusion. “Well… I do really like your pheromones.”

But to this extent??

Ruanruan licked her little fangs. “Not just ‘really’—you adore them.”

“Little devil.”

“Hehe~ Do you want more pheromones now, sis?”

Bei Yin followed her instincts. “I… didn’t get enough just now. But keep it under one percent.”

“Okay.” Ruan Fei gazed at her like a devout believer. “Just say the word, and I’ll give you anything.”