After the ambush, the atmosphere inside the lifeboat felt a little stiff.
The four of them seemed separated by an invisible membrane.
No one wanted to speak first.
We’ve got this pathetic thick barrier between us now!
After her internal complaint, Ella subconsciously glanced at Dieyi.
After all, with last night’s unforgettable experience, even if she didn’t want to admit it, Dieyi was currently the person she was most familiar with.
Familiar to the point she didn’t even want to think about it.
She rubbed her hands together—a very unnatural gesture of anxiety.
“What do we do now? Dieyi, the ship is gone… A lifeboat like this won’t last very long, right…”
Her tone was odd, as if something was stuck in her throat—unable to be spat out or swallowed.
She didn’t know how to handle her relationship with these three anymore.
According to her gradually recovering memories, she was actually quite familiar with the three of them.
Back when they were still just little bugs, they used to sit together playing cards every day.
Of course, he (back then) lost most of the time. Zhuluo, whose emotional module wasn’t fully developed, played like a computer and crushed him every time.
But Dieyi had also said that the version of her controlled by the Insect Nest will had done many terrible things to them.
And she couldn’t even remember the specifics—like a blackout where you refuse to believe the drunk person in the security footage is you.
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh?”
Not only did Zhuluo freeze for a second, even Ella herself was stunned.
The words had slipped out faster than she expected, bypassing her brain’s filter entirely.
She lowered her head, staring fixedly at the lifeboat’s floor.
“I was bewitched by the power of the Insect Mother and stopped being myself… I did a lot of wrong things… I hope you can… forgive me…”
Her voice grew softer and softer.
Please! Accept my apology! Please! Be the bigger person and let bygones be bygones! What’s an Insect Mother?!
Never heard of her… I’m just a weak, helpless little pitiful thing…
Honestly, she was very lost about the future.
The swarm was no longer soldiers she could fully trust.
As the Insect Mother, if she couldn’t trust her own swarm, she was no different from an ordinary person.
In this perilous sea, she might have to rely on the three in front of her to survive.
It was time to start living off them.
Unless, in the future, she could find a way to truly control the swarm on her own.
“Now you know to apologize.”
Dieyi’s voice drifted over from across the way. She clearly had no intention of accepting it easily; her tone was still full of barbs.
“Ella, all this time in the past, you abused your power over us, didn’t you? Treating us like objects to modify, use, and discard as you pleased.”
She touched the wound that was still seeping blood.
When her fingertip brushed the spider-silk bandage, she winced in pain, revealing two sharp little fangs.
Then she turned her face away, her pink hair covering half of it, no longer looking at Ella—probably because she didn’t want to.
“I’m sorry…”
Ella said it again, even softer this time—quiet enough that only she could hear it.
Looks like she had done quite a lot back then.
But she couldn’t keep her head down forever. She was the Insect Mother—well, at least she used to be.
Suddenly, she thought of something that might break the icy atmosphere.
“That said, why did you do those things to me last night, Dieyi!”
“Me?!”
Dieyi’s eyes widened for a split second. A flicker of guilt flashed through her pink pupils.
Her lips moved as if organizing her words or buying time.
“Fine, fine!”
She finally spoke, her voice carrying a “whatever, let’s just say it” kind of bluntness.
“That was just an impulsive decision! You were too sweet! I couldn’t hold back, okay!”
The corner of Ella’s mouth twitched.
“This is all your fault, Ella! Who told you not to optimize out our sexual desire back then! Don’t blame me!”
As Dieyi said this, a blush spread from the tips of her ears all the way down her neck, mixing with her pale, bloodless skin.
Ella looked at her.
The more she looked, the more the corners of her mouth curved upward.
( ̄︶ ̄)
The arc wasn’t large, but it was extremely smug.
“Oh~”
She deliberately dragged out the syllable.
“I think I get it now. So the reason you turned me into a girl wasn’t just because you liked it better?”
Her voice was exaggeratedly sweet, so cloyingly sugary it could make your teeth ache.
Someone, give my ears a drink of water—it’s too sweet.
“Hehe~”
“Tch.”
Dieyi clicked her tongue and turned her face the other way, this time with even more force. Her pink hair nearly slapped Yiwen in the face.
Hahaha! She clicked her tongue! I was right!
Ella laughed heartily in her heart. I thought you were some deeply vengeful person, but it turns out you just wanted to jump me, huh~ Women~ huh~ People~ huh~ Living beings~ huh~ Organic matter~
She placed her hands on her hips and lifted her chin high. Her silver hair fluttered in the sea breeze.
Since she had already become a girl, she didn’t mind using this sweet face to make a punchable expression.
After all, it wasn’t her choice—might as well use it.
As the saying goes, only men truly understand men. With this face, she believed she had what it took to run for the world’s cutest creature.
“Your Majesty.”
Zhuluo’s emotionless voice came from the stern.
“The humanoid insect maiden we brought from the Insect Nest shows signs of waking. You can go check on her.”
“Oh! You mean her?”
Ella’s eyes lit up.
She turned and spotted the transparent culture container in the corner of the lifeboat.
The container wasn’t large—about the size of a small suitcase.
More than half of the culture fluid remained, glowing with a faint blue fluorescence in the morning light.
The blue-haired humanoid insect maiden floated quietly inside, hands folded over her abdomen in the pose of a carefully preserved ancient corpse.
Her skin looked even fairer after soaking in the culture fluid—almost translucent, with fine blood vessels visible beneath.
If these three hadn’t blown up her Insect Nest, she would have already adjusted her to the point of waking.
It’s all their fault!
Well, even if she said that, Ella was already quite happy just to have a chance at their forgiveness—even if she hadn’t fully gotten it yet.
She squatted beside the culture container and tapped the glass wall with her finger.
The person inside didn’t react, but a few more small bubbles rose from between her strands of hair than before.
“Soon, soon. If I could tweak the settings a bit, she might wake up very quickly.”
She muttered to herself, then stood up and returned to her seat.
“So why didn’t you optimize out our sexual desire back then!”
“How would I know! That was all the Insect Nest will’s fault! It had nothing to do with me!”
“Stop it, you’re just a pervert! That one thing was one hundred percent your own will!”
“I’m not!”
“You are!”
“I’m not!”
Dieyi and Ella went back and forth, their argument growing more and more ridiculous, their tones increasingly like elementary school kids fighting.
Yiwen sat in the middle, licking her fangs with her tongue.
In the gaps between their bickering, Ella noticed that Yiwen’s fangs seemed longer than normal—like a vampire’s.
The atmosphere inside the lifeboat gradually warmed up amid this strange, back-and-forth exchange of absurd banter.