Chapter Twenty-Nine

The young man had a rather thin figure, his complexion was pale—one could even call it deathly white—and his lips were pressed tightly together. There was a certain aristocratic air about him, and though he stubbornly tried to maintain his composure as he looked at his opponent, the fear and anxiety in his gaze betrayed his true feelings.

Watching his adversary struggle to rise, Ye Chong contemplated whether he should strike him a few more times to completely eliminate any fighting capacity and truly set his mind at ease. After a moment’s thought, Ye Chong spoke slowly, “I accept your surrender, but you need to come out of your mecha first.” Without the mecha’s protection, Ye Chong was confident that, at most, three blows would be enough to finish him off. Yet, he had never intended to kill them; his only aim was to protect himself from harm. Besides, if he wanted to survive, he needed these two—he was utterly unfamiliar with everything on this starship.

If the other refused to cooperate, Ye Chong would not hesitate to subdue him first; he would not leave any potential threat that might cause him trouble.

Unexpectedly, the other replied without the slightest hesitation, “Alright!” He dared not waver even for a moment; the man before him was ruthless, every move lethal, and the difference in strength between them was vast. He had no bargaining chips on his side, and surrender was the only option left to him. Number Two, too, was a decisive person—since surrender was inevitable, she chose to do so quickly, lest the man’s anger be directed at her young master, the last thing she wished to see.

The young man, meanwhile, watched Number Two with intense curiosity. Number Two had served as his bodyguard for years, always appearing in this form, and he had long since grown used to it. He had never seen what Number Two looked like outside the mecha.

Number Two moved with practiced efficiency, swiftly storing her mecha into the subspace.

The young man was petrified the moment his eyes met Number Two’s. He had never imagined that the person who had loyally protected him for so many years was, in fact, a woman—and not just any woman, but one of rare and striking beauty! Her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, her face was charming whether she smiled or frowned, and her sapphire eyes were as mesmerizing and deep as the night sky. She had a tall figure; the tight-fitting suit accentuated her proud curves and devilish body, and her long, shapely legs could make any man swallow hard.

Though he had grown up in a noble house and met countless beautiful women, he still found himself captivated by Number Two, his gaze fixed on her.

Ye Chong, meanwhile, mused to himself, Not bad, the mecha seems to be controlled by neural waves.

In a calm voice, Ye Chong said, “Throw me the spatial button for your mecha.”

Number Two had been watching Ye Chong’s expression since earlier. Although she had never shown herself in public, she had absolute confidence in her looks. In her family, all those like her—girls adopted and trained from childhood to serve as personal bodyguards for important family members—were beauties chosen from thousands, and she was the most outstanding among them, dazzlingly beautiful. Their instructors had told them that their appearance and bodies were their last weapons; used wisely, they could even turn the tide of fate.

Yet, in that instant, all her confidence in her beauty collapsed. This terrifying man before her was completely indifferent to her presence, as if she didn’t exist at all. Did she truly have no allure whatsoever? Fortunately, the appreciative look in her young master’s eyes gave her some comfort. She had served him for five years and knew him well—he would never harbor any ill intent toward her; in his eyes, it was pure admiration.

She hesitated briefly, then removed an exquisitely crafted bracelet from her wrist and tossed it to Ye Chong.

Ye Chong caught it and fiddled with it for a moment, deftly extracting its micro energy comb before putting both items into his pocket. Watching his practiced movements, all hope in Number Two’s heart vanished. Even with such an overwhelming advantage, this man remained so cautious—he was truly terrifying.

Ye Chong gestured for her to come over.

Nervous and uneasy, Number Two stepped up to him.

Without hesitation, Ye Chong untied the rope from himself and bound her tightly, warning, “You’d best not have any funny ideas, or else…” His actions were rough, as if he were tying up some mutant creature, showing no tenderness at all. The pain brought tears to Number Two’s eyes, but the murderous intent in Ye Chong’s warning sent a chill through her heart.

Ye Chong then walked toward the young man.

Number Two couldn’t help but shout, “What are you doing? You promised me you wouldn’t hurt him! Please keep your word!” Her voice, now out of the mecha, was clear and melodious, like the music of the heavens.

Ye Chong didn’t even turn his head. “Hurt him? That’s not my intention—for now. But I’ll feel safer if I tie him up too.”

Ye Chong approached the young man, who lifted his chin proudly, challenging Ye Chong with a stubborn glare. The color had returned to his face, and he appeared much calmer now.

Number Two inwardly cursed; she should have remembered her master’s obstinate nature and only hoped he wouldn’t provoke the other party into harming him.

Ye Chong paid it no mind; if he were the one being tied up, he wouldn’t feel much better than the young man did. Though the boy looked delicate and frail, Ye Chong, ever cautious, bound him tightly as if wrapping up a rice dumpling. On the garbage planet, every mutant creature had its own unique abilities; judging an enemy by appearance alone was the most foolish thing one could do.

Ye Chong’s actions were anything but gentle. The pampered young man had never suffered such rough treatment and could only stifle his moans of pain, while Number Two watched in distress.

Finally, Ye Chong could relax and sat down on the floor without any concern for his image.

Number Two examined this almost inhuman man before her: he wasn’t tall, his skin was a healthy wheat color, and his features were ordinary except for his remarkably spirited eyes. His black hair could only be described as disastrous, clearly the result of a malfunctioning automatic haircut machine. His body was well-proportioned, with no bulging muscles, completely at odds with the terrifying strength he possessed—utterly deceptive. As for his age, she couldn’t say for sure; he seemed young, but his hardened demeanor and indifference to life and death gave him a sense of world-weariness. His clothes were old and worn, resembling those from a government relief camp. Yet, judging by the way he had removed the energy comb from her mecha earlier, he was clearly very familiar with mecha technology. Would someone from the relief camp know how to handle a mecha?

Ye Chong spoke: “Alright, who are you two?”

The two captives exchanged bewildered glances. Number Two cautiously asked, “You don’t know who we are?”