A Guide to Raising Snake Spirits - Chapter 39

Nozomi sat upright, bracing himself for whatever grand revelation Ms. Tsukino Hana was about to drop, only for a frantic beeping alarm to cut her off.

An electronic voice drifted from the console.

“Warning! Warning! Hull has been locked.”

The ship’s AI assistant dutifully informed them that they had acquired a few “little tails,” yet the starship continued to cruise along at a leisurely, steady pace.

Nozomi stood up and glanced at the completely unmanned cockpit. Question marks practically materialized over his head in physical form.

Nozomi: “?”

Nozomi: “You turned on auto-pilot and didn’t even bring a pilot with you?”

Hana averted her eyes, looking sheepish. “Haha, well, staff has been a bit tight lately. It is what it is.”

The AI assistant’s warning grew increasingly shrill. The black-haired Guide didn’t have time to banter with his mother; he knit his brows and scanned the control cabin. Unable to control his volume, he shouted, “You dared to fly a two-person starship all by yourself?”

Hana shouted back, “Budget was limited! We’re making do!”

Nozomi nearly fell to his knees in exasperation.

The radar on the starship was screaming now. The black-haired Guide lunged for the pilot’s seat, his hands flying as he toggled a row of switches in rapid succession.

The Black Mamba surged out of his mental realm, using its snout to help its master press buttons on the far side while wrapping its tail around the control stick.

If the students in Teacher Mitsuki’s class saw the Black Mamba’s agile maneuvers, they would have felt utterly inadequate and offered to donate their own hands to the snake.

Nozomi’s fingers blurred across the keyboard. He skipped the non-essential steps, and for the buttons he couldn’t reach, the snake used its head to jam them down for him.

But no matter how good his piloting skills were, a starship designed for two people was built that way for a reason, featuring a dual-layer OS and an independent weapons system.

Biting at their heels were four high-performance combat starships, bristling with firepower. Nozomi was certain they weren’t on auto-pilot, nor were they being flown solo.

The Guide’s mind raced. His mother clearly couldn’t fly, which left two other people in the ship.

In the midst of the chaos, Nozomi looked up and yelled, “Mengmeng, can you fly a starship?”

“I never took the elective! Ahhh!” Bian Mengmeng was pinned against the back of her seat, her face contorted as the ship performed a series of high-difficulty rolls, her loose hair plastered across her face.

She gripped her seatbelt with her eyes shut, screaming in pure regret, “If I’d known, I would have taken the course!”

Just as the Guide was about to call out to Bairishi Qing, the Sentinel had already grabbed the handrail, pulled himself over, and taken the other pilot’s seat, clicking his harness into place.

Nozomi quickly remapped a portion of the controls and swiped the display over to Bairishi’s side.

“Take these. It’s similar to the basic C28-6 model. Handle the weapons system as you see fit, just shoot whatever lights up. Save those three super-cannons on the right-rear hull for me.”

Nozomi’s hand flicked the rudder, and the starship dodged a missile shown on the radar with a sharp, unconventional angle.

Although Bairishi Qing had performed excellently in the simulation system, the Guide didn’t expect him to do much, so long as he didn’t accidentally fire a shell into their own hull.

Nozomi was working himself into a frenzy. “Mom! Didn’t you plan an escape route when you kidnapped us?!”

“I did! Look at the destination address on the screen!” Ms. Hana shouted from the passenger seat.

The four-ship squad behind them was clearly well-trained, surrounding Nozomi’s ship in a tactical formation. Their crossfire trajectories were calculated with precision, simultaneously blocking off every possible escape route.

Nozomi piloted the ship through a series of feints to bait out their ammunition, several missiles grazing past them with terrifying proximity.

The ship his mother had brought wasn’t as fast as the pursuing squad; it was only Nozomi’s erratic, unpredictable maneuvers, flicking left and right, that kept them alive.

Beads of sweat began to form on the black-haired Guide’s forehead, sliding down his nose and dripping onto the control panel. He didn’t even have time to wipe them, his eyes locked onto the screen with burning intensity.

Now, the nearest starship had almost caught up to their tail.

Under extreme tension, Nozomi’s mind became exceptionally clear.

In less than ten seconds, they would be within the firing range of the ships behind them. Unless the enemy pilots were mentally incapacitated, their missiles wouldn’t miss. Nozomi and the others were looking at a total hull failure and certain death.

His mom, Mengmeng, Bairishi, and himself—they would all be turned into stardust. Honestly, it might have been better to stay as test subjects in the research center.

Is there any other way? Nozomi’s hands didn’t stop moving as his brain searched for an answer.

If only he had another pair of hands, the weapons system…

The Black Mamba reared its body up next to the console.

Nozomi’s peripheral vision caught the screen, and he caught the moment Bairishi Qing fired a missile that forced the enemy back. It hit the mark perfectly, right in the spot the Guide had just been thinking about.

In the middle of the chaos, Nozomi glanced at Bairishi. The Sentinel was operating the weapons system with a stoic expression, his movements so practiced they didn’t look like those of a first-timer on a real craft.

The Guide’s spirits lifted, and he began to form a plan.

Nozomi raised his voice to the Sentinel. “Bairishi Qing, coordinate with me. When I say fire, launch those three super-cannons on the right-rear flank.”

The gray-haired Sentinel: “Got it.”

Nozomi steered straight toward the position he had scouted, and as expected, the enemy starship gave chase.

Bairishi provided covering fire in the meantime, tearing a hole in the four-ship formation. The Guide pushed the ship to full throttle, pulling a sharp turn that resulted in a literal drift through space.

The pursuing enemy ship was desperate to catch them, putting its position perfectly within range.

“Fire!”

Brilliant sparks burst from the starboard side of the black starship. Three super-cannon shots fired in succession, hitting the target dead center.

“Nice!” Nozomi couldn’t help but shout.

The hit enemy ship began trailing black smoke as it plummeted, exploding into a magnificent display of fireworks.

The remaining three ships tried to regroup, but they were no longer as seamless as they had been as a team of four.

The Guide regained his confidence and began to gain altitude, preparing to shake them off entirely upon exiting the atmosphere.

However, behind the remaining three ships, another fleet appeared.

The radar began to beep again, showing a much larger, higher-performance fleet appearing ahead of them as well.

Nozomi: “…”

Nozomi nearly ground his teeth to dust in frustration. They had just dealt with one behind them, only to be blocked from the front. They were sandwiched, trapped with no way out.

Bairishi gave the Guide a silent look.

Nozomi simply pushed the control stick all the way forward, charging ahead with the momentum of someone intending to ram straight into the enemy fleet.

Just before impact, Nozomi yanked the hull upward. The stick was so heavy that the veins on the back of his hand bulged with the effort. The Black Mamba also lunged forward, using its serpentine body to help Nozomi pull. The starship performed a near-perfect right-angle turn, ascending vertically.

Expecting the two waves of ships to swarm them, the Guide didn’t even stop to catch his breath before looking back at the screen.

The fleet that had appeared in front of them began firing shells as if they cost nothing, drowning the research center’s ships behind Nozomi in a colorful rain of missiles.

The research center’s ships fired back a few weak, scattered rounds before being torn into fragments without any ability to resist.

It was a textbook demonstration of how skill is futile in the face of absolute fire suppression.

Nozomi felt a surge of silent annoyance. He let go of the rudder, leaned back into his seat, and announced emotionlessly, “…We’re doomed. Get ready to die.”

Ms. Hana, however, unbuckled her seatbelt and stood up with a smile. “They’re one of us.”

Nozomi: “…?”

As soon as Hana spoke, a communication request appeared on the ship’s screen.

Nozomi pressed accept, and the figure of a woman with resolute features appeared. She had short, fiery red hair and a mature appearance, but her eyes were bright and spirited. Her brows were thick and straight, and her thin lips were pressed into a firm line.

She spoke, her voice deep and steady, “Leader, we are waiting here as requested.”

Nozomi’s eyebrows shot toward the ceiling.

Hana smiled with great dignity, appearing like a completely different person than she did in front of Nozomi. She folded her hands in front of her. “Thank you, General.”

The two exchanged a few brief words about their next destination before hanging up.

Seeing the crisis averted, Nozomi simply engaged the auto-pilot. The starship drifted lazily in the middle of the large fleet, flying with extreme arrogance since it was surrounded by escorts.

Nozomi crossed his arms and leaned against the inner wall of the ship. “Mom, what exactly is your identity?”

Hana knew the location of the research center, had secured such an expensive starship, and now this fleet that appeared out of nowhere seemed to belong to her.

Hana let out a deep, dramatic sigh. “It seems I can’t hide it from you anymore.”

Nozomi: “Did you even try to hide it? You suddenly pull a ship like this out of thin air, is there any other explanation?”

“Actually, I am the supervisor, person-in-charge, or rather, the leader of the ‘Special Star Legion Doesn’t Handle Business So We Are a Grassroots Organization Doing It Ourselves Flying Across the Star Sector Specialized Army,'” Hana said with a straight face.

Nozomi rubbed his temples. “Drop that name that even you can’t say properly.”

“Fine, the name isn’t important.” Hana shrugged, giving a playful wink with her radiant face. “Nozomi, you really aren’t getting any cuter as you grow up.”

“After all that, you’re basically the leader of an unofficial, illegal army, aren’t you?” Nozomi said darkly. “You’re essentially a criminal.”

Bian Mengmeng cried out from the side, “Oh my god, Nozomi, your mom is a Rebel Leader!”

Nozomi: “…”

“That sounds so harsh,” Hana laughed. “We’re the good guys.”

“Oh? Doing what exactly? Do tell.”

“Actually, the thing I’ve been busy with all these years is the Tianyou Research Institute, or more specifically, the Fengyun Corporation above it.”

At this point, Hana’s expression turned serious.

“It has been conducting human experiments for a long time, ignoring ethics, ignoring the law, and disregarding human life.”

“Your father used to be an employee under them, too, though I managed to fish him out,” Hana added with another smile.

Nozomi stared at his mother, lost in thought. “So, those interstellar trips you two took before… they weren’t just simple vacations?”

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