Chapter Thirty-One

The three of them arrived at the spot where Mu had crashed in.

Naturally, all three wore pressure suits, including the one who had earlier been mistaken for a member of the Beast Tribe. In truth, Number Two and the young master were both eager to witness Ye Chong enter space without a suit—a mix of curiosity and, secretly, the hope that if his blood vessels burst and he perished, it would be a most delightful outcome for them both!

Unfortunately for them, Ye Chong paid no heed to Number Two’s instigations. He donned the pressure suit obediently, unwilling to draw unnecessary attention by standing out too much. The more he blended in, the longer he could survive—this much he understood well.

Number Two felt a pang of disappointment. The man before her showed none of the impulsiveness or restlessness typical of youth; instead, he was composed and experienced. This was what troubled and unsettled her most.

Since the suits were required, the ropes that had bound Number Two and the young master were removed—but not before Ye Chong had delivered a stern warning.

Though the corridor was a vacuum, the gravity matrix had been restored, so walking felt much like normal, not the helpless floating from before. The corridor lights were all on, illuminating every detail in a brilliant white.

When Number Two and the young master saw Mu, their expressions could not have been more different.

Under the lights, Ye Chong finally saw the scene clearly. It was obvious Mu had crashed in from the middle of the corridor. The immense speed had resulted in terrifying energy: the heavy armor of the starship had not stopped Mu’s advance, and a gaping hole had been smashed through it. After breaching the hull, Mu’s momentum had run out—half of the mech was inside, half wedged outside. Now Mu looked like a giant scallion stabbed askew into the ship’s metallic soil.

Number Two’s eyes blazed with fury. So this was the true culprit! The disaster he had brought was catastrophic: apart from herself and the young master, everyone else on board was dead. The ship was severely damaged, unable to travel, now reliant on rescue from passing vessels. But in the endless void of space, how likely was it to encounter a ship at all? The hope was slim. If space pirates appeared, none of them would escape enslavement—her own fate, given her looks, would likely be even worse.

She did mourn her fallen comrades, but that alone did not make her resent Ye Chong. What mattered most was the young master’s safety—it was paramount, above all else! Trained since childhood under harsh discipline, she viewed human relationships with a cold detachment. Excelling within her organization, she had held the position of Number Two for a long time. From early on, she had been designated the young master’s personal guard and indoctrinated with the belief that his safety outweighed everything. Over the years, this conviction had become deeply rooted, as unchanging as her code name.

Yet the man before her had endangered the young master—how could she not be enraged?

Ye Chong noticed her anger but felt no guilt. Whether or not he was the true culprit was, in his view, irrelevant. Everyone was responsible for their own survival; if you couldn’t protect yourself, that was your problem. Like prey before a predator—would you expect mercy? Ye Chong felt no qualms about playing the predator; in fact, he relished it. He had no desire to be slaughtered like herbivores. The principle he lived by was the most fundamental law of nature, as reflected by the mutated creatures of the Junk Star—not any human law or morality. In his mind, such concepts simply did not exist.

The young master, meanwhile, was enthralled by the strange mech. His face, usually pale, was flushed red with excitement. “My god! It’s beautiful! Magnificent! The creator of this must be a genius!” he cried, throwing himself onto the mech, caressing its surface like a lover, lost in ecstatic admiration.

Ye Chong ignored the mad youth, inwardly calling for Mu, but the mech remained unresponsive, as if in deep sleep. Melancholy overtook him. After more than a year together, the bond between him and Mu ran deep. To Ye Chong, Mu was not merely a mech, but both mentor and friend. Mu had shown him the outside world for the first time, and under Mu’s guidance, his strength had grown beyond measure. This mission, perilous as it was, had posed no real threat to Mu—Ye Chong knew, though Mu had never said it, that Mu had taken the risk solely for his sake, and it was because of him that Mu was damaged.

He gazed blankly at Mu’s once radiant frame, now dulled and scarred. In his mind, Mu’s armor had seemed the strongest in existence, yet now it was battered and torn. Pain stabbed at Ye Chong’s heart. He took off the pendant hanging from his neck—unused since the time he had cut his own finger. Mu disliked staying in subspace, and Ye Chong enjoyed Mu’s constant company. He had never expected the first time he would use the pendant to retrieve Mu would be under such circumstances.

Number Two stood behind Ye Chong, her expression shifting. Ye Chong seemed lost in thought, defenseless. Now would be the perfect moment for a sneak attack—she might even kill him in one blow! But if she failed, both she and the young master would face his most furious onslaught. Remembering Ye Chong’s ferocity, Number Two’s heart skipped in dread. Attack? Or not? She hesitated. The memory of his ghostlike speed and superhuman strength made her heart clench with fear.

Ye Chong, oblivious to her struggle, sighed and stored Mu in subspace.

The young master, still atop Mu, was stroking the mech’s surface with shining eyes, uttering cries of amazement. Suddenly, as Mu vanished, the boy fell with a startled cry, having not expected the ground beneath him to disappear.

His yelp snapped Number Two from her indecision. Seeing the young master falling, she twisted her waist and sprang forward with sudden force. But someone was faster. She saw only a blur, and Ye Chong had already grabbed the young master by the back, leaving him suspended and flailing in panic. Ye Chong glanced at Number Two, then casually tossed the boy into her arms.

She caught him at once, shooting Ye Chong a grateful look while gently comforting the shaken young master in her embrace.

Without looking back, Ye Chong said, “Enough. We’re heading to the control room.” The unmistakable authority in his tone left Number Two with no room for hesitation. She had no desire to cross this unfathomable man again—being tied up was a thoroughly miserable experience.

Clutching the young master, Number Two followed closely behind Ye Chong. The boy had yet to recover from the fright, his face ashen.

Who was this man? Even with her limited insight, Number Two knew the mech he had just stored was extraordinary. Anyone in possession of such a machine could not be ordinary themselves. A superhuman body, astonishing speed, and a mech unlike any other—just who was he?

Full of doubt, Number Two trailed behind Ye Chong.