Chapter 7

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Mark and Marrling arrived at a secluded spot in the woods, where a camp-like area buzzed with energy. The camp was alive with laughter, music, and the enticing aroma of grilled food wafting through the air. As they stepped into the clearing, Mark felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. He grimaced as he heard Katie's voice, teasing him through the transmitter that had been surgically implanted in his skull earlier that day.

—Looking good there, Xeney. Real cute. Just a reminder: whatever you think is automatically transmitted as speech.

Mark mentally groaned, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. —You're telling me this now?!

—You didn’t ask about it, and I forgot to mention it. Sorry, but not sorry.

“Something the matter?” Marrling asked, glancing over her shoulder at him, her expression curious.

“Not really allowed to say,” Mark replied, trying to keep his tone light.

“Something from above?” she pressed, sensing his discomfort.

“Yeah,” Mark admitted, nodding slightly. “Pretty much.”

“Got it,” she said with a knowing smile. “Well, let’s enjoy ourselves.” With that, she took the lead, guiding him deeper into the lively camp.

As they entered, Mark noticed that the male presence was scarce, with most of the group consisting of enthusiastic females engaged in animated conversations. They were buzzing about who could impress the Alpha, and Mark couldn’t help but feel a mix of amusement and anxiety. His inherent outgoing nature kicked in despite the pressure; he decided to join one of the groups.

“Hey! I hear you all talking about the man of mystery himself,” he said, flashing a confident grin.

One of the girls, with bright blue hair and a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, turned to him. “Yeah! I hear you’ve caught his eye. Not that you have a chance with all of us here,” she teased, crossing her arms playfully.

“Actually,” Mark said, his competitive spirit ignited, “how about we make a wager?”

“Oh? Someone is feeling lucky,” she replied, her interest piqued. “Depends on what you have in mind.”

“How about a cooking contest?” he suggested, raising an eyebrow with a challenge.

The group erupted in laughter, clearly entertained by the idea. “Alright, you’re on! But let’s make this interesting,” the girl said, stepping closer. She reached out to stroke Mark’s cheek, a playful smirk on her lips. “Here are the terms: the winner gets a night with the Alpha, and if you lose...” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “You become my little fem toy. How’s that sound?”

Mark felt a surge of adrenaline. “Agreed,” he replied, a confident smile spreading across his face. “Let the best cook win.”

As the stakes were set, the other girls cheered and chattered excitedly, their attention fully on the brewing competition. Mark could feel the anticipation in the air, igniting his competitive edge. He was ready to prove himself, not just as a potential rival for the Alpha’s attention, but as someone who could hold his own in a world that had turned upside down.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, then,” the blue-haired girl said, already gathering supplies for the challenge.

Mark took a deep breath, ready to embrace the chaos of the night ahead. He might have entered this camp as an outsider, but he was determined to leave with a win—one way or another.

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Mark was known for his culinary skills, and this evening was no exception. With the pressure of the cooking contest hanging over him, he turned to Katie for some recipe ideas. After considering various options, he decided to make Kalmk, a dish inspired by a recipe he had stumbled upon, likely penned by someone from the Architects. He poured his heart into the preparation, ensuring every detail was just right.

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