Chapter Forty

Looking at the scene behind him, Ye Chong was startled out of his wits. Right now, he was like a honey-soaked beehive, with a dark swarm of wasps in hot pursuit. For the first time in his life, Ye Chong truly felt what it was like to poke a hornet’s nest! Not daring to dwell on it, Ye Chong pushed his speed to the limit. At this moment, all he could do was pray that the pirate leader's flagship he had commandeered was good enough; otherwise, if he were caught, he had no doubt his only fate would be to be torn to shreds by the furious pirates.

Fortunately, the ship’s performance far surpassed that of ordinary spacecraft—no wonder the one-eyed former leader had cherished his life so dearly. This time, Ye Chong was the one to benefit!

Ye Chong piloted the pirate ship at breakneck speed, while the pirates gave relentless chase. Some of them even boarded mechs and clung to the ship, firing at him without pause. Shotguns, heat rifles, laser sniper rifles, and even particle cannons battered the hull, but whatever modifications the former pirate captain had made, the barrage left barely a mark. Only the laser sniper rifles managed to leave faint pinprick holes in the armor.

Meanwhile, the pirates’ new chief—Iron, the trusted lieutenant of the late one-eyed leader—was beside himself with regret. Why had he ever made the ship so formidable in the first place?

Realizing their weapons posed no threat, Ye Chong was elated. Gradually, the distance between him and the pirates grew—this ship was clearly faster than any other in the fleet!

With the crisis temporarily averted, Ye Chong finally allowed himself a sigh of relief. He switched the ship to autopilot, only then feeling the exhaustion weighing on his body. His hands in particular burned with sharp pain. Sinking into the soft command chair, a heavy drowsiness swept over him. The tension of the previous hours finally released, and Ye Chong could no longer resist—he drifted into a deep sleep.

When he awoke, six hours had passed.

The stench of blood still hung in the control room, making Ye Chong frown in distaste. He grabbed the pirate captain’s corpse and casually tossed it into the garbage chute. As he walked over to the skinny strategist by the wall, he was surprised to find the frail-looking man still alive. Impossible—Ye Chong knew the force behind his punch; even someone as robust as the one-eyed captain wouldn’t have fared well, much less this weakling.

A thought struck him. Ye Chong undid the strategist’s clothing and discovered, as expected, a pale-yellow garment interwoven with countless black threads.

He removed the garment from the strategist’s body—its toughness was impressive. No matter how hard Ye Chong pulled, it refused to tear. Intrigued, he hurriedly put it on himself. He tried punching his own chest; to his surprise, instead of pain, he felt only a brief warmth. Suddenly, Ye Chong understood—the garment must disperse any impact across the entire surface.

What a lifesaver! Ye Chong was delighted, carefully putting it on as his innermost layer. Of course, he couldn’t help but wish for a full-body version.

At that moment, the strategist groggily regained consciousness, finding himself half-naked and shivering. Terror filled his face. “You… you… please, don’t come any closer, sir! Spare me, I beg you…” Seeing Ye Chong’s cold gaze, the strategist gulped nervously, then stammered, “S-sir, it’s my first time, p-please, be gentle!”

Ye Chong could no longer contain himself—he stiffened, then fainted on the carpet, froth at his lips.

Watching Ye Chong’s hand move toward his knife, the strategist’s face drained of color. He pleaded desperately, “Have mercy, sir, have mercy! If you spare my life, I’ll follow you loyally, serve at your side, brave any danger without hesitation!”

Ye Chong slowly drew his knife and said indifferently, “Oh? Give me one reason not to kill you.”

Sweat poured down the strategist’s brow, but he ignored it and replied hurriedly, “I’m extremely familiar with this region. If you let me live, I guarantee I can help you shake off those pirates! I know all the local pirate gangs, and I’m no stranger to running errands or doing dirty work…” As he spoke, his nerves settled and his words began to flow, becoming more and more eloquent.

Ye Chong’s mind turned. He was indeed a stranger to these parts—if he kept blundering around like a headless fly, the pirates would catch him for sure. Perhaps keeping such a subordinate wouldn’t be a bad idea.

The strategist, astute as he was, noticed Ye Chong’s expression shift and felt a surge of hope.

Having decided, Ye Chong gave the strategist a cold glance. “You make a good point. You can keep your life. But if you ever do anything you shouldn’t…” With a flick of his wrist, Ye Chong’s knife flashed like a black bolt of lightning—thud! It embedded itself in the wall, missing the strategist’s cheek by a hair and sinking in up to the hilt.

A chill swept over the strategist’s face. Only when he realized he was unharmed did he dare to breathe again. But when he looked back at the knife buried in the wall, his heart leapt into his throat. Such terrifying strength! The ship’s walls were made of ultra-high-strength low-carbon plastic—heat rifles could barely dent them—yet his new master’s blade had gone in as if they were paper!

It was only when Ye Chong declared him spared that the strategist’s heart truly settled, and he hurried to bow in a show of loyalty.

He had his own calculations. Though he was the number two in the Redhawk Pirates, he knew it was only thanks to the former boss’s trust. Compared to Iron, the third-in-command, he lacked real authority among the men. Now that the boss was dead, the brothers would surely rally around Iron. He had always been at odds with Iron; there was no place for him in the Redhawk Pirates anymore. Staying meant certain death.

This new master was no easy character either—especially that cold, indifferent look when killing. It made the strategist’s blood run cold. This was a man who killed without blinking, his hands stained with countless lives—though in truth, Ye Chong had been misjudged. It was true he killed without hesitation, but to say his hands were stained with many human lives was unjust. Growing up on a junk planet, struggling to survive among mutant beasts, Ye Chong saw little difference between people and mutated creatures. To him, killing a person was no different than killing a beast.

Ye Chong frowned and waved away the torrent of flattery. “None of that from now on. Tell me—what’s your name?”

“My name is Baili Nan, sir!” the strategist replied respectfully.