Abandoned Omega: Wanted by the Bigshots in the Military Academy

As they walked out of the elevator, they heard Aaron Xavier’s muffled, low chuckle.

Apparently, he was amused by his own recent thought.

You couldn’t blame him. To avoid blocking the way, Zoe Pierce and the others had moved to a corner.

The light from the elevator didn’t reach their location. When he glanced outward, he saw the stark white light of the corridor falling on their faces.

It was undeniably eerie.

It became even funnier when, after he spoke, he saw Zoe Pierce shoot him an annoyed glare.

The horror movie had officially become a comedy.

After a few laughs, everyone grew serious.

The unlit corridor was like a path leading to an unknown abyss.

In the end, they didn’t let Zoe Pierce walk in front; Nathan Lockwood took the lead instead.

The air in the long-unventilated corridor was stale and unpleasant. The only sound was the group’s footsteps on the floor.

The several-hundred-meter distance took only a few minutes to cross.

They soon came to a large door.

Without needing to be told, Chase Shaw stepped forward and skillfully began manipulating the electrical signals.

Meanwhile, Miles Sherman scanned the surroundings for a power distribution box.

A place this utterly dark, an abandoned laboratory, would typically have had its power cut manually.

He walked toward a corner and pressed a spot on the wall, revealing a hidden electrical panel.

Chase Shaw was also quick on his end. In the blink of an eye, he had managed to open a small gap in the large door, just wide enough for a person to slip through.

Inside, it was just as pitch-black.

But then Miles Sherman made a move. Everyone heard a short BEEP, and then, before their very eyes, the once-dark corridor was instantly illuminated by bright lights starting from the elevator.

In just two seconds, white light strips on the ceiling liberated everyone from the darkness.

Even the laboratory beyond, which had been pitch-black, was now brightly lit.

After their eyes adjusted for a few seconds, Zoe Pierce and the others could finally look into the laboratory properly.

Compared to the laboratory in the cave from the joint examination, this one was clearly much larger and visibly better equipped.

The instruments inside looked somewhat dated, but back in their day, they would have been state-of-the-art.

The construction cost for the entire research lab must have been astronomical.

A thought suddenly flashed through Zoe Pierce’s mind. ’How did they get so much money?’

Ever since they learned of this organization, they’d found labs it had funded everywhere, on different planets no less. The required manpower and resources would have been immense.

That included the starship that had attacked her, all those modified starships, and the many mechas that Betas could pilot. Any one of those things would have cost an astronomical sum.

This was definitely not the kind of capital that could be amassed through ore trading like Arthur White’s operation.

A terrorist organization like this couldn’t possibly have a tax revenue stream like the Federation to support military, public, and other expenses.

They must have a stable source of income to provide a constant infusion of funds.

Nathan Lockwood was standing beside Zoe Pierce when he felt a tug on his sleeve. He lowered his gaze to look at her.

Zoe Pierce scanned the enormous space as she asked, "Nathan Lockwood, has the military ever investigated the income of the Beta council members?"

Nathan Lockwood glanced at her, frowning slightly. "No. Why?"

Zoe Pierce explained her thinking. Nathan Lockwood’s brow furrowed even more deeply. Her idea was sound; they had completely overlooked this point all along.

These expenses would have nearly drained the entire cash flow of the Lockwood and Shaw Families. They might have even required all of Aaron Xavier’s wealth and the connections of Miles’ Residence.

And even that might not have been enough.

Even the output of an entire planet might not have been enough for this research.

High-precision instruments are the most expensive.

"There can’t be that many manufacturers for this kind of experimental equipment, right?" Zoe Pierce said, pointing casually. "They can’t possibly have a complete supply chain, can they?"

’Even if they could manufacture it all themselves, what about raw materials? Where would they get those from?’

’The hard work isn’t daunting; what’s daunting is having no leads.’

Nathan Lockwood understood what Zoe Pierce meant.

Just as his family had many business partners, so did the Shaw Family.

The Federation has anti-monopoly laws. No matter how large a company gets, it can’t become an exclusive provider. You always have to leave a piece of the pie for others.

Only a few companies produce precision experimental instruments.

And all sales must be registered.

"With this many labs, they can’t have used a different front for every purchase," Nathan Lockwood said, following Zoe Pierce’s line of thought. "So we can focus on the buyers from these few instrument companies."

"Purchase records from the last ten years where the legal representative is likely a Beta," Zoe Pierce added.

They were already well aware of the organization’s complete obsession with secondary genders.

They would never operate under the name of an Alpha or an Omega.

"Let’s look around first." Seeing the entire laboratory laid out before them, Zoe Pierce quickly shifted her attention back to the present situation.

The group split up and began to search the area.

This room seemed to be a records office for all sorts of data. Basically, all the useful information was gone, leaving behind only some useless forms and papers.

It was useless.

Zoe Pierce finished searching the last drawer in her corner, then stood and shook her head at Miles Sherman and the others.

Miles Sherman and Nathan Lockwood also shook their heads.

A minute later, Chase Shaw also came up empty-handed.

Only Aaron Xavier, who was flipping through a small, kraft-paper notebook, spoke. Seeing the others straighten up, he said without looking up, "I found a journal over here. It doesn’t have much data, but it mentions several failed experiments."

The others gathered around as Aaron Xavier turned to the first page.

Star Calendar 4003, 7.1.

Day 136 in the experiment group. No means of outside contact. The experiment failed again. I can’t help but use this most primitive method to record my feelings.

Even though I knew from the start that joining this experiment meant giving up worldly pleasures, this environment, the daily failures... it’s all plunged me into a deep sense of frustration.

I used to be so proud. As a Beta, I managed to get into an academy that only opened its doors to Alphas and some Omegas, despite a mere five-percent acceptance rate.

And I went on to pursue advanced studies, even furthering my education.

But now, I truly doubt whether I have the ability to change any of this.

Can I really change the future for Betas, like I once dreamed I could?

I’m not sure.

Are Betas really inferior to Alphas?

This was the first entry. Just as Aaron Xavier had said, it contained no experimental data, but it wasn’t completely meaningless, either.

In just those few short lines, the author conveyed a palpable sense of self-doubt.

What was informative, however, was the date.

Counting back 136 days from this date, they could pinpoint when an experiment began. And surely, there would be more fragments of information about this experiment to come.