A Guide to Raising Snake Spirits - Chapter 41

As Shiraishi Haru massaged Mizuki Nozomi’s hand, the Guide’s breathing gradually steadied. Shiraishi felt a weight settle on his shoulder; Nozomi’s head had tilted over, his hair brushing against Shiraishi’s cheek with a slight, ticklish sensation.

Nozomi’s long, raven-black lashes cast a shadow over his face, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Even with his hand still resting in Shiraishi’s, the Guide had already drifted off into a light, sweet snore.

Shiraishi carefully placed Nozomi’s hand back onto his own lap and looked up to meet Yue Zirong’s gaze.

A smile of vague meaning played across his mother’s face, carrying a hint of teasing.

The Sentry said nothing, and Yue Zirong tactfully remained silent. Even Bian Mengmeng had closed her eyes to rest; as a technical Guide, running around like this had left her utterly exhausted.

The starship fell into a peaceful silence.

Through the small porthole, Shiraishi looked out at the pitch-black void of space, dotted with a few flickering stars of varying colors. Due to the refraction of the glass, the stars weren’t particularly bright; if one wasn’t paying attention, it looked like nothing but darkness.

The universe often makes one feel small, empty, and lost, but the heavy weight of Nozomi on his shoulder reminded Shiraishi exactly where he was. The Guide had become his anchor in the cosmos.

No matter how many people were on the Special Star, those truly connected to Shiraishi could be counted on one hand. Memories create connections between people, but the bond between a Sentry and a Guide transcends memory, it belongs to instinct.

The class monitor and the others were friends, but a friend is ultimately different from a Guide.

He wanted to take responsibility for Mizuki Nozomi.

Since Nozomi had reached back and grabbed hold of him, how could Shiraishi ever bear to let go?

A jolt of turbulence signaled their landing.

“Wh—are we there?”

Bian Mengmeng was startled awake. She rubbed her bleary eyes and hurriedly wiped a bit of drool from the corner of her mouth.

Nozomi heard the commotion but was reluctant to open his eyes. He had fallen into such a deep sleep that his eyelids felt glued shut. Furthermore, the shoulder he was using as a pillow was at just the right height and comfortably broad, tempting him to stay exactly where he was.

“We’ve arrived,” Yue Zirong said softly. “The starship has landed.”

“Mm.” Shiraishi’s response, conducted through his body, sounded muffled and resonant in Nozomi’s ear.

Wait? Shiraishi’s voice?

Nozomi’s brain sluggishly processed the information.

The thing under my head right now is the Sentry’s shoulder.

Nozomi snapped awake with a start, his face still bearing the red mark from where it had been pressed against Shiraishi’s shoulder.

“Xiao Xi is awake too. You slept on Xiao Haru’s shoulder the whole way,” his mother added with a beaming smile, adding fuel to the fire. “And Xiao Haru was kind enough to let you use him as a pillow without a single complaint.”

Nozomi: “…”

The Guide’s mind wavered between feeling like he should say something and feeling like it was better to say nothing at all. He instinctively turned his head, locking eyes with Shiraishi’s calm green gaze.

Nozomi’s throat felt tight, and his vocal cords, fresh from sleep, weren’t quite working yet.

Fortunately, the opening of the hatch saved him. From outside, they could hear the exclamation of Bian Mengmeng, who had followed Yue Zirong off the ship first.

“Whoa—it’s huge!”

Inside the ship, the Guide said to the Sentry, “Shall we head down?”

Yue Zirong’s base was far more professional than Nozomi had expected.

He had assumed her base would be tucked away in some remote forest, but it was incredibly modernized.

Outside the starship was a massive spherical dome, currently wide open to receive the returning vessels. As far as the eye could see, there were at least several hundred high-performance, advanced starships.

Through the open roof, the sky glowed with a purplish hue, making it crystal clear to Nozomi and the others that this was not the Special Star.

“It took quite a bit of effort to find a planet with a suitable atmosphere,” Yue Zirong said, standing beside the ship with one hand in her pocket, looking heroic and capable.

“How long did it take you?” Nozomi asked.

“Finding it took a few years. The construction and modification were the hard parts—that took decades,” Yue Zirong replied.

“We’ve currently divided it into four major zones: Residential, Research, Military Training, and Equipment,” she said, waving the terminal on her wrist. “Xiao Xi, I’ve sent the map to your terminal. You won’t get lost, will you?”

Nozomi: “You have a network here too?”

“Yes, we built our own internal network on the planet. But the distance from the Special Star is too great; only specific equipment can contact people there.”

Nozomi tapped his terminal and saw the file his mother had sent.

Nozomi: “…”

He suddenly realized, does this mean he forgot to ask Professor Qiu Shui for a leave of absence? The students of the Special Class had lost their flight instructor again. His professional ethics pricked at his conscience.

The Guide turned to ask Bian Mengmeng, “Mengmeng, did you tell Professor Qiu Shui that we escaped?”

Bian Mengmeng, who was distracted by the sheer scale of the base, snapped back to attention and said sheepishly, “Ah, no, I completely forgot about that…”

“What do we do? Will Professor Qiu Shui be worried?” she fretted.

Nozomi: “Hmm…”

Although his mother said they could make contact, Nozomi reconsidered. The Tower was the backer for the research institute. How much was the Tower involved? How many teachers knew about it?

Regarding Qiu Shui, their homeroom teacher, Nozomi wasn’t sure where she stood. She had helped him get into the institute, but entering the institute had played right into Professor Zhang’s hands.

Furthermore, according to Bian Mengmeng, Xiang Heng and the other two had been rescued by Professor Qiu Shui. Did one woman really have that much power?

Unsure of Qiu Shui’s stance, Nozomi decided it was best to prevent any leaks for now.

He smoothed out his sleep-mussed hair, holding a hair tie in his mouth while he pulled his hair back, talking to Bian Mengmeng at the same time.

“Well, Mengmeng, wait until you return to the Special Star to let Professor Qiu Shui know you’re safe. The commotion we made blowing up the institute was pretty big; she should be able to guess it was us.”

“You’re right. Let’s do that then,” Bian Mengmeng nodded, realizing the awkwardness of the situation.

In terms of closeness, Qiu Shui was her former teacher and she trusted her deeply, but she had also overheard the conversation between Yue Zirong and Nozomi. The fact that Yue Zirong hadn’t locked her up was already very generous; letting information slip out now was out of the question.

“Mengmeng, I’ll have this lady take you to the living quarters first so you can freshen up,” Yue Zirong said gently, using her thumb to lightly wipe a smudge of dust off Bian Mengmeng’s face. “It’s been hard on you, running around with these two.”

“It’s okay…”

Being treated with such intimacy made Bian Mengmeng so nervous she didn’t know what to say. She blinked, looking at Yue Zirong with an anxious air.

Another capable-looking blonde lady stepped forward and led Bian Mengmeng onto another transport vehicle.

Nozomi crossed his arms and said, “Mom, is there something else you wanted Shiraishi and me to see?”

“Exactly. My son is as sharp as ever,” Yue Zirong nodded with a smile. “It’s better if she knows a little less about certain things.”

Yue Zirong continued, “Over the years, I’ve rescued some… well, you’ll see when you get there.”

Nozomi and Shiraishi followed his mother onto a transport. During the ride, she began introducing the layout of the base.

“The residential area is mainly divided into two parts. One is the general district where logistics personnel and the families of soldiers live. The other is closely linked to the research district.”

Nozomi asked, “Did you put Mengmeng in the general district?”

“Yes, you can go visit her in a bit,” Yue Zirong said. “But what I’m taking you to see now is a separately designated section. Once you see it, you’ll understand why it was planned this way.”

Through the window of the transport, Nozomi caught a glimpse of the planet’s original landscape—strange, unfamiliar plants and rolling green hills. Yue Zirong had built a small city right on the plains.

White western-style buildings gradually came into view.

“We’re here. This is also our base’s hospital,” Yue Zirong said.

The entire structure looked remarkably like the hospital on the Special Star, but on a much smaller scale. It looked more like a row of residential buildings connected by hallways, and it wasn’t very tall—only five or six stories.

Yue Zirong led Nozomi and Shiraishi out of the transport and through the main entrance.

A passing doctor in a white coat greeted her, “Leader, you’re here?”

Yue Zirong’s smile was only halfway up when the doctor added, “Dr. Mao was just looking for you. Oh, look, she’s right over there.”

“Wait, don’t tell her I’m back yet.”

Yue Zirong returned the smile, but Nozomi could tell—this was the face his mother made when she had a guilty conscience.

She kept her expression neutral, but her pace noticeably quickened as she led the way. She had barely made it a few steps before a voice rang out from the other end of the hallway.

“You’re just in time.”

The newcomer looked to be about the same age as Yue Zirong, wearing the same coat as the previous doctor, with her long hair pulled back into a practical high ponytail. She walked with a brisk, flying gait and grabbed Yue Zirong’s arm with a grip like an iron pincer.

“We’re low on medical supplies. Buy another batch and send them over.” Her words were as blunt as her actions; she was clearly someone used to research, direct and to the point.

“You know how it is, the budget has been a bit tight lately…” Yue Zirong said with a smile.

“You’re the leader. If you don’t solve this problem, who will? If you really can’t cough up the money, just say the word. I’ll wash my hands of this right now and stop treating everyone on this floor. How does that sound?”

“I’ll have the finance department approve it as soon as I get back.”

The newcomer let out a barrage of words until Yue Zirong surrendered. Only then did the woman shift her gaze to the two juniors behind Yue Zirong.

“Are these your sons? Both of them?”

Nozomi didn’t know what to say for a moment.

She quickly dismissed her own guess. “No, I’ve seen your husband. One of them doesn’t look like him. Genetic mutation?”

“No, no,” Yue Zirong waved her free hand, her other arm still firmly in the woman’s grasp. “One is enough. The black-haired one is my son, and the other is his Sentry.”

“Oh, Mizuki Nozomi, right?” She tilted her chin up. “Your mom mentions you quite often. I’m Mao Qingsheng, a friend of Yue Zirong’s from the military academy. Now, as you can see, I’m the head of this hospital.”

Dr. Mao kept talking at her own pace.

“Your parents’ genes are decent; two ordinary people managed to produce a Guide. How is your compatibility with your Sentry?”

“Ahem, this is your Auntie Mao,” Yue Zirong said, her arm still trapped. “Her medical skills and research are incredible. A miracle worker.”

“Hello, Auntie Mao,” Nozomi quickly interjected.

“Alright, I have things to do, so I’m off.” Dr. Mao let go of Yue Zirong’s arm. Before leaving, she turned back specifically to remind her one last time: “Remember to approve that budget!”

“I won’t forget.” Yue Zirong hurried her along as if she were escorting a deity away.

Yue Zirong rubbed her arm. “Let’s keep going. What I want to show you is right ahead.”

After the brief interruption by her mother and her friend, Nozomi followed with a lighter heart until Yue Zirong stopped in front of a room.

After pushing the door open, Yue Zirong handed a stack of documents from the desk to Nozomi.

“You didn’t go through all this trouble just to make me read a thesis, did you?” Nozomi looked at his mother with deep suspicion.

Yue Zirong shrugged. “Xiao Xi, you really are getting more suspicious. Just look at it; Mama isn’t lying to you this time.”

Nozomi gave her another skeptical look and began flipping through the papers. His expression grew increasingly grim, and his reading speed picked up. By the time he reached the last page, he slammed the folder shut with a snap and remained silent for a long moment.

After a while, the Guide turned to ask Shiraishi, “Do you want to see?”

“If Xiao Haru wants to see, he can,” Yue Zirong said, leaning against the desk after giving the documents to Nozomi.

The Sentry met Nozomi’s eyes. The gravity and lingering shock in the Guide’s grey-blue eyes were palpable, signaling that these documents contained nothing pleasant.

Shiraishi reached out and took them. He flipped through them nearly as fast as Nozomi had. When he closed the folder, his facial expression remained calm.

Nozomi waited for Shiraishi to put the documents back on the desk before asking his mother, “…Are these all victims of the Tianyou Research Institute?”

“Not just them. There are victims from other institutions under the Fengyun Enterprise umbrella as well.” Yue Zirong sighed, pulled open a drawer, tossed the documents inside, and shut it with a bang.

“Most of the failed subjects were destroyed or abandoned internally. Most of those who survived don’t have long lifespans.”

“So, most of these are indigenous people from other planets used as testing grounds, or experimental subjects from the Special Star who were transferred to other planets.”

In the documents they had just read, one file for a Sentry had been accompanied by a gruesome, bloody photograph.

Nozomi was in a terrible mood. He couldn’t help but steal a glance at Shiraishi’s reaction.

Would the Sentry be triggered by this? Had he also been subjected to these kinds of experiments?