TL: Hua

Chapter 54

Shen Que and the two injured team members were sent to the medical capsule. Members of the First Guard continued their search for traces of the silver-haired Zerg near the pier, while technicians from the Seventh Guard began tracing the Zerg’s movement path using footage captured by the relay vehicle. Meanwhile, Ji Xuan and Pei Yingye, upon returning to the sightseeing ship, learned what had transpired at the original exchange location.

The man in black and the pilot who was trading with Zakun were both puppets sent by the silver-haired Zerg to divert attention. Just as Zakun stepped forward to negotiate and attempt to confirm the other party’s identity, the man in black revealed his purpose without hesitation.

“So, he guessed right; this really was a trap,” the man in black had said.

“They knew all along that the Azure Bird Guards had set an ambush at the exchange point?” Pei Yingye asked.

The investigator sitting across from him nodded.

Afterward, the man in black drew his gun and fired, but for some reason, the muzzle strayed slightly, allowing Zakun to narrowly escape. Members of the First Guard behind them immediately moved in to protect Zakun. Seeing that the situation could no longer be delayed, Ji Jingche immediately ordered the net to be drawn over the communication channel. Following that, gunfire erupted simultaneously from both the east and west directions of the container terminal.

Subsequently, Ji Xuan and Pei Yingye received orders to support Shen Que, as they were the team closest to that area.

The raid at the transaction location went smoothly, but the man in black lost his ability to move shortly after being arrested.

“He was parasitized,” the investigator said. “Before the interrogation could even finish, an A-grade Zerg ripped through his back and crawled out, attempting to flee, but we shot it dead on the spot.”

Pei Yingye remained silent for a moment. He originally wanted to say that the possibility of an A-grade Zerg with parasitic abilities appearing within the five major galaxy systems was minuscule, but thinking of that S-grade silver-haired Zerg, it felt as though nothing was impossible.

The investigator was primarily there to ask the two of them about their encounter with the silver-haired Zerg. The two recounted everything faithfully, only pausing for a brief moment when repeating the final words spoken by the Zerg before its departure. However, since Shen Que was also present and likely heard those lines, it couldn’t be hidden anyway, so they ultimately chose to speak out.

The investigator also sensed something and frowned instantly. However, he quickly closed his recording notebook and said, “Thank you both for your cooperation. I won’t disturb you further.”

Before leaving, the investigator informed them that Ying Xun had recently handed full responsibility for this matter over to Ji Jingche. The Azure Bird First Guard would exert all efforts to track the whereabouts of this Zerg, so the two didn’t need to worry further about its escape. Given their outstanding performance in this operation, they would be personally commended by Ying Xun upon returning to the North Star Fortress, and the report would be sent back to Mars Military Academy. Their field training assessment scores and honors would certainly be substantial.

Pei Yingye said with a beaming smile, “Then many thanks to all the officers.”

But in truth, neither he nor Ji Xuan were people who cared much for such empty titles.

What truly caused concern and lingered in their minds was the bizarre attitude displayed by that Zerg and the unknown plot that seemed to be hidden behind it.

The investigator sent someone to arrange a rest area for the two of them. Though not large, it was enough to wash off the dust and get a good night’s sleep. Just as Ji Xuan closed the bathroom door, he heard a simultaneous sound in the room. It seemed Pei Yingye had gone out.

His hand paused on the lock, but before long he guessed Pei Yingye’s destination. Ignoring it, he turned to undress and switched on the shower.

The warm stream of water washed down, calming his cluttered thoughts.

On the other side of the sightseeing ship, Pei Yingye walked through the long corridor and arrived outside the command room.

He raised his hand and knocked; with a soft “beep,” the metal door slid open.

Just as he expected, the meeting in the command room had just concluded, and only Ying Xun remained inside. Seeing his arrival, Ying Xun showed no surprise or other emotion, merely raising a hand to point casually at the seat beside him. Pei Yingye walked straight over and sat down.

“I guessed you would come.” Ying Xun’s sitting posture was rarely relaxed, propping up his head as he studied him. “Time was too tight back at the fortress to ask. Why did you run off to North Star without a word? Ah Yun never mentioned you were coming.”

“He was too busy roasting me. As soon as the annual assessment was announced, his call came through—General, I feel it’s necessary to report this behavior. Can’t I have any privacy?” Pei Yingye lounged in the chair without any proper posture, bracing his toes against the table leg to spin the chair half a turn. “Besides, I thought you would have guessed long ago where I’d go.”

In the accident four years ago, Pei Yingye was trapped in a simulation pod for a month. After being “rescued,” he remained unconscious for five days before waking up, having lost all memory of that month.

The position North Star Fortress held in his heart was incredibly complex. Aside from telling Ji Xuan it was the “best in the Alliance,” there was actually a deeper layer of emotion.

Back then, after he woke up, Ying Xun had a heart-to-heart talk with him. He said he could help Pei Yingye seek the truth behind the accident, but as for the lost memories, doctors had no solution; it could only rely on Pei Yingye himself. In truth, Pei Yingye didn’t know what was in that lost memory. Perhaps it was just an insignificant period of difficult survival in a jungle, but it was something that belonged to him after all. To have it vanish so unclearly left him in denial. Even if it were something unimportant, he had to remember it first before he could judge its lack of importance.

So, he had to come. Perhaps there would be a chance to remember what happened; even if not, he could gain a little capital to continue his search.

“Remember my analysis from back then?” Ying Xun’s finger tapped on the smooth tabletop, his voice as gentle as a night breeze. “I said then that one of the targets of the Zerg attack on North Star Fortress might have been you, but now… perhaps it’s Ji Xuan.”

“I will protect him.” Although Ji Xuan probably didn’t need his protection.

Ying Xun watched him quietly. When Pei Yingye said those words, his posture was still not serious, but those eyes, inherited from his lover, were more earnest than ever before.

He was stunned for a moment, then suddenly gave a tender laugh, teasing, “Twenty-one years old… it really is the time to be chasing after an Omega.”

“I was a bit surprised when you agreed so readily to go undercover with him to approach Zakun in that capacity. In my impression, our Xiao Ye was a troublemaking little monkey; I didn’t think that after not seeing you for six months, you’d become this obedient.”

Pei Yingye casually crossed his legs and said dismissively, “It’s alright, but I can’t compare to someone who, at seventeen, displayed his peacock-like plumage in Major General Ying’s StarNet private message, and at eighteen, spent a fortune to buy a mecha that had been used in a parade and was only for display.”

“He even told you about that?”

A rare flash of bewilderment crossed Ying Xun’s face, followed by a helpless, wry smile as he cursed softly, “…No filter on that mouth of his.”

“You’re far away at North Star Fortress with so many affairs, and he can’t see you all day. Even a video call depends on your mood. He has nowhere to vent, so he either tortures Echo or tortures me. Isn’t it normal for him to go over old stories again and again?” Pei Yingye said recklessly, “Anyway, what are sons for if not for fathers to play with?”

Ying Xun gave him a look that was half-annoyed and half-amused.

“However, I heard Zakun mention a game that was launched four years ago.” Pei Yingye straightened up slightly this time. “I looked it up before coming here. It was a holographic game called ‘Nine Days and Nights Across the Sea.’ Dad even invested money in them back then. General, do you have any memory of it?”

Ying Xun shook his head. “You know I’ve never been interested in those things.”

“Do you think there’s a connection between this game and that Zerg? Or do you think Ah Yun and…”

“No,” Pei Yingye said. “Because I found out that I also obtained testing credentials back then, though it was through the connection of a certain investor.”

Ying Xun arched an eyebrow, listening quietly as he continued.

“Zakun said Ji Xuan looks very much like the antagonist boss of that game, so I specifically checked the models and illustrations released by the game team at the time—” Pei Yingye paused, taking a deep breath. “Actually, it’s not just the looks… Father, do you think such a coincidence exists in this world?”

Ying Xun asked, “You say ‘not just the looks,’ what else besides that?”

“The name,” Pei Yingye said. “The antagonist in the game is also called—”

–

Ji Xuan had just finished blow-drying his hair.

One downside of a world without cultivation was exactly this: hair that could previously be easily dried using internal energy now had to be dried bit by bit with a blower, taking a significant amount of time every time. He was actually considering whether to cut it a little shorter; it would not only be easier to manage but also more convenient for daily activities.

It was just that he seemed to have grown accustomed to his current appearance, and if he really had to do it, he felt a bit reluctant.

Besides, a certain someone seemed to like his hair very much; otherwise, he wouldn’t have made that expression when he saw the short version of it in the full-domain simulation.

In fact, he had guessed it long ago. The first time that person washed his hair, he complained while murmuring, starting from “three thousand strands of black hair, ten feet of soft red dust[1],” all the way to his own waist, which had grown sore and numb from bending over for half an hour, yet his hands never stopped.

Ji Xuan put down the hairdryer and was about to send a message asking Pei Yingye when he planned to return when he heard a knock at the door.

Standing outside was a member of the First Guard.

“Trainee Ji Xuan.” The team member saluted. “Zakun refuses to cooperate with the interrogation. He keeps demanding to meet the Omega who captured him. Therefore, the General has sent me to invite you over.”

–

When Ji Xuan arrived outside the temporary interrogation room, both Ying Xun and Pei Yingye were there.

He greeted Ying Xun, who responded with a nod.

Zakun’s fearless voice came through the monitor: “Have that Omega come and interrogate me personally; otherwise, I won’t say a single word.”

“Sometimes I really wonder if this guy has some kind of special fetish,” Pei Yingye said, stepping over to Ji Xuan’s side in a few strides. “If you don’t want to go, just say so. The General is reasonable and won’t force you.”

Ji Xuan glanced up at him. There was no emotion in those dark eyes. He didn’t respond to Pei Yingye immediately but instead turned his gaze toward Ying Xun, who was the one in charge.

Receiving his gaze, Ying Xun nodded, echoing Pei Yingye’s words: “If you feel uncomfortable or have any concerns, we can use other methods. If you are willing, don’t worry, I will go in with you.”

Ji Xuan thought for a moment and said, “Then let’s meet.”

To be interrogated by a general of the Alliance personally, by any measure, could be considered an honor for Zakun.

A team member stepped forward to open the door for them. Ji Xuan and Ying Xun walked in, one after the other.

The lights inside the interrogation room were a sickly, pallid white, and the chilly air smelled of disinfectant. Zakun was secured behind a metal table by heavy shackles. His normally meticulously groomed hair was a disheveled mess. The areas of his waist and abdomen that had been grazed by bullets were bandaged, but his clothes were still stained with dried blood.

Ying Xun gestured for Ji Xuan to take the inner seat, then sat down beside him.

“I heard you wanted to see me,” Ji Xuan spoke playfully. “What? Is there something you’re still not reconciled with?”

The height of the chair had been deliberately lowered, forcing Zakun to tilt his head back slightly just to meet Ji Xuan’s eyes.

Perhaps because he had arrived in a hurry, or perhaps out of simple disinterest, Ji Xuan’s long hair wasn’t tied up; it draped loosely over his shoulders and back. The harsh lighting traced the sharp contours of his features. His dark, vivid eyes seemed to blur into a hallucination within Zakun’s vision under the cold, white glow.

Wearing a pitch-black combat uniform, his aura was both similar to and worlds apart from when he was undercover on the starship. He looked like a high-and-mighty statue of a deity looking down—cold, detached, and possessing a hint of disdainful, wicked charm.

“…” A momentary look of daze appeared on Zakun’s face. Soon, he grinned again. “You were finally willing to come.”

Ji Xuan arched an eyebrow. “Mhm. So, whatever you have to say, say it quickly. Let’s save everyone some time.”

Zakun stared at him, his gaze tracing Ji Xuan’s face without reservation. “Before I speak up, I want to know your name. ‘Lin Yan’ isn’t your real name, is it?”

Ji Xuan remained expressionless, merely watching him in silence.

A bizarre stillness suddenly fell over the interrogation room. The atmosphere felt as though it lasted for a century, or perhaps only a few short seconds.

“Ji Xuan,” he finally spoke slowly. “That is my name.”

Zakun’s eyes widened. The two people present could even see his pupils constricting violently.

He murmured Ji Xuan’s name several times, the smile on his face freezing before uncontrollably widening.

“Ha… for such a coincidence to actually exist in this world.”

[1] “Three thousand strands of black hair, ten feet of soft red dust.” I’m not going into too much detail. These are actually two separate but similar idioms used to express the reflections on life, emotions, and worldly affairs. So, he’s basically just complaining about life and the chore of washing hair.

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