SZAR Chapter 47

Secretary Lin didn’t react immediately.

He pointed at the Luban lock. “This?” Then at Chu Ci. “You?” He twirled his finger in the air a couple of times, confused. “What do you mean?”

Chu Ci said, “I can serve as the guide. Nuo Wei trusts me. I want to go onto the lie detector with him.”

Secretary Lin was silent for a long moment. “This thing hasn’t been tested. Your mental strength isn’t enough. The tribunal won’t agree.”

Chu Ci was a high-ranking male. He could calm the mental seas of countless female zergs in revolt; he was the empire’s walking treasure. His safety was of the highest priority in the empire. Not to mention whether this ‘guide’ had ever been clinically tested or whether it even worked, the tribunal would never allow a high-ranking male onto the interrogation platform.

Secretary Lin looked at him, expression tinged with sorrow. “Give up, Your Excellency. The mental sea is an extremely delicate component. The Central Tribunal’s lie detector could cause irreversible damage to yours. They will not agree.”

This was the first time Secretary Lin had addressed Chu Ci as “Your Excellency.”

Secretary Lin had never married and maintained the dignity of a military captain. Though he knew Chu Ci’s identity and treated him with courtesy, it was more because of the rigid pressures of society than genuine respect.

But as he got to know Chu Ci better, his estimation of him rose. From a mere colleague, then the brutal and violent male of a former superior, to someone insightful and capable in the industry, and now, watching Chu Ci insist on joining the interrogation, Secretary Lin had to raise his judgment yet another level.

This was a male unlike any other in the entire star system.

He sighed inwardly. No wonder the formerly cold and indifferent Major General had fallen so completely.

Back then, Secretary Lin had watched coldly, thinking the Major General’s actions were like a moth flying into a flame, certain that he would soon be consumed. But now…

Secretary Lin fixed his gaze on Chu Ci: This male was not fire. He was a calm, gentle lake, carefully catching the Major General and holding him safely.

Still, no matter how much he lamented, Secretary Lin had to emphasize the facts: “Your Excellency, there’s no point in trying. The tribunal will never approve.”

Chu Ci looked at him. “How can this be called a pointless attempt?”

The chance of mental sea collapse could drop from 78.65% to 13.06%, and the chance of death from 26.18% to 0.00%…

Even without considering the drop in mental sea collapse, just looking at the death probability, from over one in four to none, how could Chu Ci not try?

Hidden from Secretary Lin, Chu Ci’s hand trembled slightly inside his sleeve.

He knew there was a mortality rate in the lie detector test and had seen Nuo Wei’s signed consent, but he hadn’t realized it was this high, 26%, over a quarter, more than twice the odds of drawing an SR card in a game.

Nuo Wei had never told him.

Chu Ci refused to dwell on the possibility. He couldn’t accept losing the future with Nuo Wei.

Nuo Wei was his only bond in this world since his awakening. He was the ‘cat’ Chu Ci had nurtured carefully, finally coaxing him from cautious reserve to this clingy, intimate state. Through countless trials and adjustments, they had grown inseparable. Chu Ci had poured more love into him than ever before, and if he lost Nuo Wei, he could never love another the same way again.

He couldn’t accept it.

If anything happened to Nuo Wei, he would never forgive himself.

Perhaps in the zerg society, it was normal for a male to remarry after his female died, but not for Chu Ci. It was like a family that raised one pet and could never fully welcome a second, the love and care could not be divided equally. Without Nuo Wei, Chu Ci was doomed to a lonely life.

Even if the death rate could only drop by 1%, he had to take the risk.

He grabbed Secretary Lin’s shoulder with a grip so strong it hurt. “I’m going. I have to go.”

Secretary Lin looked at him. The male’s eyes were deep and shadowed, like a storm gathering in a dark pool. He drew a deep breath. “But the tribunal will not agree, and your mental strength might not be enough.”

“Then I need you to find me media,” Chu Ci lowered his gaze. “I will force them to agree.”

………………

That afternoon, on the same day as the Pamir media storm, Chu Ci, at the center of the whirlwind, registered a personal StarNet account and completed real-name verification.

The morning’s live broadcast and news had drawn massive attention. The interstellar public was intensely curious about this extraordinary male. Within the first hour of Chu Ci’s verification, his follower count broke ten million and continued to grow exponentially. Countless users flooded into his personal account, and private messages overwhelmed his inbox.

Yet Chu Ci did not post a single word.

He was like the eye of a typhoon at the center of a vortex, silently gathering strength for an even greater storm.

Meanwhile, Stellar’s official account released a statement claiming major progress in mental sea research. They posted a long string of incomprehensible data, summarized in just simple words:

⟦ Guide Accompanies Lie Detection, Greatly Reduce Death Rate ⟧

Behind this topic, Stellar provided a report chart with experimental data. The horizontal axis represented the guide’s mental power level, and the vertical axis represented accident probability.

From the chart, it was clear that when a guide joined, the lines made a sharp turn. As the guide’s mental power increased, the two lines gradually converged, finally disappearing into coordinate zero.

Coordinate zero — that is, zero probability.

The moment the topic appeared, Chu Ci retweeted it and @tagged the Central Interrogation Room.

His personal homepage was clean and bare, even emptier than a monk’s rice bowl. Countless female zergs were waiting there for updates, so when he suddenly posted this, it was like throwing a spark onto dry kindling, the discussion instantly exploded.

⟬ What does this mean? Why would a male share a post about a guide? ⟭

⟬ Major General Nuo Wei is about to take the lie detector, right? His male lord wants to act as the guide? ⟭

⟬ No way, this is absurd. Look at that graph’s horizontal axis, the x-axis is the level of mental power. The point where it starts taking effect is almost equal to an A-rank female’s mental power. Even if Nuo Wei’s male lord is an A-rank male, there’s no way he could manage it, right? ⟭

Across the interstellar, male zergs are weaker than females in every respect, including mental power. Guidance works through pheromones, but inside the lie detector, pheromones cannot transmit. The guide’s mental sea connects directly to the subject. Nuo Wei was once S-rank; even though he’s now B, the dead parts remain, forming collapsed regions like black holes.

If a female’s mental sea is a stormy ocean, a male’s is merely a mountain stream. The ocean’s waves can easily engulf the streams, dragging them into a pitch-black quagmire, leaving them either insane or broken.

Even though Chu Ci is an A-rank male, he isn’t qualified to be Nuo Wei’s guide.

At the same time, the tribunal replied to Chu Ci’s @. Their official response read: ⟬ We’re sorry, Lord Chu Ci. We understand your concern, but under current circumstances, we cannot find a suitable guide for Major Nuo Wei. He trusts very few people. Erwen is unreachable, and you may not withstand the consequences of acting as his guide. ⟭

The interstellar’s netizens responded exactly as expected.

Although they had predicted that a male could not serve as guide, the tribunal’s formal denial still left many spectators a bit disappointed.

On QuQi’s forums, discussion threads were building taller and taller.

⟬ So what does it mean that Nuo Wei’s male lord shared that post? Should we take a look? ⟭

⟬ …He can’t be expecting a random trusted person to drop from the sky and guide him, can he? ⟭

⟬ Not to mention, Major General Nuo Wei is known in the military as a high-and-mighty figure. Who does he even trust? ⟭

⟬ Who knows? Maybe he doesn’t even trust his own male lord. ⟭

⟬ Hahaha, so naive, upstairs. How many female zergs would trust a male? Without pheromone control, they wouldn’t even have time to hate. ⟭

Chu Ci slowly moved the cursor, reading all these comments.

His first-phase goal, building momentum, was almost complete.

Although Chu Ci was an A-rank male with high status, he had no real authority; he was “noble but not respected.” Male power largely came from support by the Male Zerg Protection Association, but if Chu Ci had asked the association to let him act as guide, they would have refused, citing the risk.

The tribunal was famously stubborn and would never set a precedent for him. To get them to agree, Chu Ci first needed power in the public eye.

These comments were that power.

He needed attention, buzz, the expectations of thousands on StarNet. He needed legitimacy for acting as guide. He wanted public opinion to become his spear and sword, forcing the tribunal to consent.

After the failed expedition, anger on StarNet ran high, a boiling sea of resentment. By voluntarily stepping into the spotlight, Chu Ci absorbed a huge portion of attention. If the discussion grew larger, the tribunal, and even higher authorities would have no choice but to let Chu Ci act as a vent for the people, redirecting their focus.

A male voluntarily guiding a failed major, whether he succeeded or failed, was a perfect topic.

Chu Ci exhaled slowly.

Now, he had to execute the second part of his plan: retesting his mental power level.

Nuo Wei was an S-rank female, Chu Ci an A-rank male. The gap in mental power was enormous. Acting as his guide with the current difference was almost a guaranteed death sentence.

No one wanted to watch a story with a predetermined ending. Not to mention whether the tribunal would agree, if Chu Ci just went as he was, StarNet’s public opinion would be overwhelmingly negative: “Overestimating himself,” “Ant trying to shake a tree,” “Praying mantis stopping a chariot.”

Even before considering the netizens, when Chu Ci brought this up, Secretary Lin was taken aback: “You want to retest your mental power? You think your level is too low?”

The former captain’s handsome face twisted into a frown. Looking at Chu Ci as if at a madman, his tone light but incredulous, his expression said it all: “Chu Ci, you’re already A-rank!”

The interstellar’s very few A-rank males, what comes above them? S-rank?

An S-rank male zerg?

“Wait a moment.” Secretary Lin held his forehead. “Your Excellency, I know you and the Major General are very close, and you’re anxious, but you can’t just throw yourself at anything in desperation. Do you think this is some old novel? A poor female falls for a rich male, and when someone tries to separate them, he yells, ‘I’m S-rank!’ and suddenly breaks through on the spot? That’s… not how it works.”

Chu Ci glanced at him. “This isn’t a sudden breakthrough.”

From the moment he woke up in the hospital, after that foggy haze in his mind cleared, Chu Ci should no longer have been A-rank.

He still remembered his adult-level tests. Back then, he couldn’t even do addition or subtraction within fifty, his mind a total mess, but even then, he still got an A.

If that counted as A, then now, having remembered everything, completed a full human higher education, nearly finishing a master’s degree, holding multiple papers, mind perfectly clear. What rank should Chu Ci be?

Secretary Lin’s face darkened as he stared at Chu Ci like he was looking at an alien. “No, Your Excellency… this is really crazy. You’re the center of attention across the whole Star Network. If you retest your rank now, everyone will know by tomorrow.”

Chu Ci turned to him. “Isn’t that perfect?”

He had been worried the attention wasn’t enough.

Secretary Lin wanted to argue. He truly thought Chu Ci’s plan was completely impossible, but because he genuinely wanted to save the Major, he had gone along with Chu Ci’s madness. Now, though, Secretary Lin regretted it.

If Chu Ci accidentally made himself a laughingstock, when the Major General came out, he’d probably want to kill him.

Chu Ci had already reached the doors of Stellar Group, about to step onto the aircraft. He stopped, looked back: “Come on, what are you standing there for?”

Secretary Lin’s face was ashen. “Your Excellency…”

Chu Ci paused, staring at him. “You don’t believe me?”

Secretary Lin said, “It’s not about belief. This… this whole thing is too unreal. It just… can’t happen. You know that, right?”

How many S-rank males are there in the whole interstellar galaxy?

Chu Ci looked at him without expression, then suddenly raised his light-brain. Secretary Lin thought he was finally going to give up and was overjoyed, only to see Chu Ci hold the light-brain in front of him and ask, “Stellar Group owns shares in our company. Have you heard of the mental power testing game my company developed?”

He meant the one he had played before—《Space War》

The game, though low-resolution and simple in rules, and with plain visuals, which Chu Ci had mocked as an arcade style from the last century was extremely difficult to play. It required watching all directions at once, listening carefully, dodging enemy fire while calculating projectile paths. Players had to multitask, with attention, reflexes, and operational awareness all required.

And this, coincidentally, was exactly one of the standards for evaluating mental power levels.

The reason this “half-finished” mini-game dared to call itself a mental power test was not without merit. Legend had it that in ancient times, male zergs were as sharp as females. Their physical strength was weaker, but their mental strength was even greater. The strongest among them could pilot ancient fuel-powered ships through space, aiming missiles by hand to destroy enemies, navigating through vast asteroid fields.

Just like in 《Space War.》

Chu Ci turned to Secretary Lin and, with Secretary Lin’s astonished gaze on him, revealed his highest score.

On the center of the light-brain screen was a metallic-glossed laurel, with two golden olive branches extending to firmly encircle the score plaque.

11,218 points.

This was Chu Ci’s top score while he had been at the hospital with Nuo Wei. He had been restless and couldn’t focus on work, just wanting to kill time with a game, so he hadn’t played seriously. Given enough time and a quiet environment, the score could have been even higher.

Secretary Lin’s eyes moved down; below the score was a line of small text:

[ Congratulations. Your mental strength is on par with ancient S-rank males. ]

He blinked, dumbfounded.

Chu Ci had already stepped one leg onto the aircraft. He turned to Secretary Lin, tilting his head and pointing at the aircraft.

“Shall we go?”