Bite marks

 

It is two o'clock in the afternoon.

 

Caesar has finally regained consciousness, thanks to the suppressants. His physician speculates that his susceptible period early may have been due to food. After all, Caesar has just returned to Florence and needs to adjust his sleep schedule. There are still traces of the Omega woman's blood on his uniform and teeth. He cannot deny that her pheromones were a perfect match for him, an unbelievable sensation.

 

However, her race causes Caesar to frown. Under the rule of the Imperial Federation, all races are treated equally and without discrimination. No matter where they come from or to which country they belong, they will not face unfair treatment as long as they join the Empire.

 

Except for Asti.

 

Since the establishment of the Empire, Asti has been labeled as dangerous, unruly, and terrifying. They are not permitted to attend public schools, reside near other communities, work in government-related jobs, or participate in crucial industries such as education, healthcare, the military, electricity, and IT.

 

Asti lives in their small communities in every city, attending schools exclusive to their kind and performing laborious jobs such as laundry and car washes. They are born with a stigma and a label, forced to live in slums or inexpensive apartments, unable to access high-paying jobs, and relegated to generations of selling cheap labor.

 

Asti has been directly linked with dirty, stupid, and evil labels for centuries. The former prime minister was open-minded and advocated peaceful coexistence with the Asti, calling for improved living conditions. But, radical Asti took the opportunity to murder him during his inspection, expressing their anger.

 

Caesar came from a privileged background, his father being the well-known Duke of Salleri. Following the prime minister's assassination, the Duke of Salleri, along with members of the House of Lords, passed a law requiring the Asti people to have a visible mark on their faces to prevent them from assuming false identities and committing dangerous acts.

 

However, last night, Caesar, who was out of control due to his restless hormones, made a temporary mark on an Asti girl without even knowing her name or identity.

 

Closing his eyes and gripping his glass, Caesar asked, "Have they not found her yet?"

 

"I'm sorry, Caesar," replied Arthur, his capable assistant who had been with him for over a decade. "We were too shocked yesterday and didn't expect her to hide back in the prime minister's residence."

 

Yesterday evening, Arthur waited for Caesar at the agreed-upon back door and was surprised to see Caesar holding a girl. By then, Caesar was almost irrational due to his restless hormones and could erupt at any moment. This state was too dangerous, and Arthur and the driver failed to inject him with a temporary sedative. They had to call for backup, and four people barely managed to control Caesar. In the chaos, the girl quietly ran away.

 

"It's okay," Caesar said. "I will see the prime minister tonight."

 

They could not confirm the Omega girl's identity, especially since Caesar did not mention her ethnicity. The Salleri family, to which Caesar belonged, existed even before forming the Federation Empire. The royal family had granted them the highest honor and hereditary titles, and the Salleri family had produced many outstanding politicians and military leaders. At the same time, the family firmly supported laws that restricted the Asti people. In the eyes of most nobles, the Asti people were no different from dirt.

 

After calming down, Caesar began to ponder. Could the Asti person living in the official residence be the child of the Black Organization's core members?

 

Over a decade ago, the Black Organization caused a great commotion by assassinating the previous prime minister. Some of its key members were apprehended and subsequently sentenced to death as a warning to others. In a display of humanity and consideration of international public opinion, the offspring of these core members were not executed. Instead, they were placed under strict surveillance within the official residence. They were given a gentle education from a young age in the hopes that they would reform and choose the right path.

 

Caesar quenched his thirst with a glass of water. If the girl from the previous night were indeed one of these individuals, it would present a severe predicament.

 

This issue was far more complex than Caesar had initially assumed. He received a summons from the prime minister that evening to discuss the matter in depth. In the stillness of the late night, Caesar silently entered the prime minister's residence in a black automobile. Unlike the previous day and today, no one hindered his entrance, and his vehicle was permitted to drive straight in, a privilege exclusive to the Salleri family.

 

The official residence was tranquil as water in the evening, adorned with verdant foliage and illuminated by patrol lights atop the tall, slim towers. The sizable circular stained-glass windows emitted a brilliant radiance, and through the mist-enveloped glass, Caesar gazed at the neighboring cedar forest.

 

There was a marked increase in the number of soldiers patrolling at night, their hands firmly gripping their guns as if happened some unforeseen event.

 

As it turned out, the prime minister informed Caesar of shocking news. A spy suspected of being an Asti resident had been caught transmitting messages to the Black Organization from his official residence. However, no concrete evidence was yet to support this, making it difficult to convict the suspect. The prime minister had entrusted Caesar with full authority to handle the matter and requested that he interrogate the suspect and resolve the issue within three days.

 

Time was of the essence, and the warden promptly took Caesar to the prison where the suspect was being held. The spy was incarcerated in the closest prison to the prime minister's residence, and the conditions were deplorable. There were still some damp spots on the ground, remnants of blood that had just been washed away with a high-pressure hose.

 

Caesar's black military boots pressed onto the moist ground, and he could distinctly perceive the bloody scent in the air as if he could hear the cries of those who had perished in the interrogation room. Caesar loathed unsanitary places and asked the warden, "Have you resorted to torture yet?"

 

The warden expressed his regret. "No, we have been waiting for your arrival."

 

Caesar donned black gloves, and his military cap had already been removed, exposing his glistening silver hair. In the gloomy prison corridor, "Asti residents are very cunning," Caesar remarked. "If you don't resort to flogging them, they won't divulge the truth."

 

The warden was aware of the deep-seated hatred that the noble lords of the Salleri family harbored toward the Asti people. Furthermore, General Caesar had recently brutally quelled a group of rebellious Asti people. Thus, the warden asked, "Shall I prepare the whip for you, sir?"

 

Caesar fixed him with a penetrating stare and countered, "Is it necessary for me to carry out such acts myself?"

 

The warden's eyes rested upon Caesar's black gloves, and he realized that the distinguished general likely disdained to get his hands soiled with the Asti people's blood. He comprehended and acquiesced to Caesar's suggestion, "Ah, in that case, General, why don't you retire outside for some rest? There is no need for us to continue interrogating the prisoner. We can ask the court tomorrow to carry out the death penalty .."

 

Caesar traversed the filthy and damp prison, his black military boots splashing in the puddles left behind by high-pressure water hoses. The odor of blood was heavy in the air, and he could hear the screams of those tortured in the interrogation room. As he strode forth, he suddenly halted and peered into the darkness. Amidst the putrid atmosphere, there was a faint hint of jasmine, a pure and unadulterated fragrance that should not have been present in this squalid location.

 

Caesar addressed the prison warden, "What lies in that direction?" gesturing towards the source of the jasmine aroma.

 

The warden replied, "Oh, that's where we're detaining the spy from last night."

 

Caesar's countenance became solemn, and he strode resolutely towards the origin of the jasmine scent. He could hear the soft weeping of a familiar voice. In the dimly illuminated cell, he found a fragile Omega woman seated on the floor, her chestnut hair and eyes shimmering in the darkness. Her white garments were insufficient to cloak her form, and the refreshing fragrance of jasmine was entirely out of place in the foul dungeon. She was secured with weighty shackles about her neck, wrists, and ankles, and her dainty frame appeared burdened by chains.

 

Caesar stared intently at the contusions and bite marks on her neck, and some were still seeping with fresh blood, which was the bit on the previous night.