A Guide to Raising Snake Spirits - Chapter 50

“An Siwen.” Perhaps eager to shed the “nanny” label, the young Sentinel added a belated introduction.

“What are you two doing here?”

Mu Xiabing cried out. He was also tied up and found it difficult to get up, so he wallowed awkwardly on the ground, rolling in the dirt. Looking at the way Mu Xiabing was staring at him, Mitsuki Nozomi suspected that if the boy could, he’d have lunged forward to shake him.

“You go first, how did you get here?” Nozomi said unhurriedly. He had also picked up some dust while rolling on the floor earlier, but he remained perfectly composed.

“You…” Mu Xiabing was at a loss for words.

An Siwen spoke up for him, keeping it brief. “We took a starship out and got captured.”

Nozomi smirked. “It seems the young master’s bodyguard isn’t very competent, then.”

“Let me guess, did the young master insist on an independent adventure, only to run into space pirates?”

An Siwen frowned and turned to the gray-haired Sentinel. “Aren’t you going to control your Guide?”

“Why would he control me? It’s more likely I’m the one controlling him,” Nozomi said, raising an eyebrow with an air of pure arrogance. “If I hadn’t stopped him, your young master’s arm would be broken by now.”

Shiroishi Haru chose that moment to demonstrate the flexibility of his hands. The rope the slave traders had used to bind him lay limply on the ground, torn as easily as if it were paper.

An Siwen glanced disapprovingly at the broken rope. “Doing that will only make them more vigilant. Originally, they would have just thought we were a weak species and wouldn’t have taken extra precautions.”

Unfazed, Nozomi revealed his own hands. The wrists that should have been bound behind his back were free and nimble, and he even held a section of perfectly intact rope.

While the Sentinel relied on brute force, the Guide won through pure technique.

“When they come back later, we’ll just put on a show and pretend again,” Nozomi replied easily.

An Siwen: “…”

He fell silent, his expression essentially saying: Fine, you two can do whatever you want, just don’t drag my young master down with you.

Mu Xiabing opened his mouth to say something, but remembering how Nozomi had threatened them with a gun before, he swallowed his words, leaving only a pair of eyes that glared indignantly at Nozomi.

He also shot a sneakily resentful look at An Siwen, seemingly complaining about why those two could relax their hands while he still had to remain tied up.

“Alright, stop glaring.”

Nozomi shook his head at Mu Xiabing, deliberately waving his hands in front of the boy’s face to stir up more resentment before smiling. “Our escape pod was salvaged by them. How long have you been caught?”

An Siwen took a moment to soothe Mu Xiabing with a look before answering.

“Not long, maybe about three days.”

“It really hasn’t been that long,” Nozomi noted, glancing at Mu Xiabing. Even through the survival suit, he could see the boy’s eyes were still somewhat spirited, showing the level of exhaustion one might have after pulling an all-nighter, but otherwise fine.

If it had been longer, the young master’s state wouldn’t be this lively. He could tell Mu Xiabing’s mental fortitude wasn’t exactly top-tier.

The four of them could have sat down for a game of mahjong. Just as they sat on the ground to exchange information, a rustling sound came from the neighboring cell.

Nozomi’s words faltered, and he smoothly switched to hand signals: 【Someone’s next door?】

He used the standard sign language used in the Tower. An Siwen understood it, and while Shiroishi Haru hadn’t studied it for long, he knew the common signs.

Haru signaled back with a “1,” indicating there was only one person next door.

The only one who didn’t understand was Mu Xiabing. The look on his face was one of pure irritability, the kind felt by someone who couldn’t follow the conversation, couldn’t join in, and couldn’t even open his mouth to ask.

An Siwen said, “They aren’t from the Special Species Planet and can’t understand us. You can keep talking.”

Nozomi remarked, “The young master went to school, right? He doesn’t even know such simple sign language?”

At this moment, Mu Xiabing was like a muzzled, agitated Chihuahua—furious, but unable to bark. Finally, his face nearly turning blue from holding it in, he said in a haughty tone:

“Not everyone needs to go to those ‘ordinary’ schools.”

Nozomi was genuinely surprised. In the public eye, members of the special species were expected to enter the Tower, which acted as a powerful official management agency. For Mu Xiabing to refer to the Tower as an “ordinary school” suggested the young master might have a rather unique background.

“Please, I’ve already apologized once for what happened at the shooting range. Can you stop provoking him?” An Siwen sighed.

Nozomi waved it off with a smile. “Alright, alright, let’s talk business. Who’s next door? Do you know anything?”

“A traveler. Doesn’t understand our language,” An Siwen answered calmly.

“I once secretly peeked over the wall. It’s a humanoid creature. Doesn’t look like it has high combat capability or any professional military training, unless it’s like us Sentinels, hiding its true strength behind an unremarkable exterior.”

“For the first two days after arriving, he kept shouting,” An Siwen continued. “Coincidentally, I took a minor in the language he was speaking, but aside from gathering that he’s a traveler and hearing things like ‘let me out,’ ‘help,’ and ‘mommy, I want to go home,’ I didn’t hear anything useful.”

Despite saying it was useless, An Siwen began to mimic the cries, doing so vividly and even capturing the accent of the alien race.

Nozomi suppressed a laugh and nudged Shiroishi Haru with his elbow.

In his opinion, this An Siwen was quite the character.

Haru silently took Nozomi’s hand and held it firmly.

Ever since Nozomi said they could “try things out,” the Sentinel had become fond of these small physical gestures, as if every part of the Guide held an immense attraction for him.

The way his eyes focused solely on Nozomi’s movements was becoming increasingly blatant.

Nozomi let him, continuing the conversation with An Siwen naturally. “Then why isn’t he shouting now?”

An Siwen: “The slave traders took him away yesterday. There hasn’t been much movement since he returned.”

Hearing this, Mu Xiabing shuddered for no apparent reason.

Nozomi caught the reaction out of the corner of his eye. He raised an eyebrow and turned to ask, “Is there something your bodyguard didn’t mention that you know about?”

An Siwen opened his mouth to answer for Mu Xiabing, meeting Nozomi’s gaze with a composed expression. “It’s nothing major, just that Xiabing caught a glimpse of something when the neighbor was brought back.”

Nozomi narrowed his eyes, studying them thoughtfully.

It seemed An Siwen wasn’t entirely honest either and was willing to withhold information. It made sense; in a strange and dangerous place, one couldn’t even fully trust friends or family, let alone two strangers they’d only met once and had a conflict with.

Fortunately, Mu Xiabing was the type to wear his heart on his sleeve.

“Did the slave traders use torture, or did they ‘harvest’ something from our neighbor?”

Nozomi spoke slowly with a smile, keeping a close eye on Mu Xiabing’s expression.

When Nozomi mentioned the word “harvest,” he noticed Mu Xiabing’s face turn two shades paler as he shrank back behind An Siwen.

The smile on Nozomi’s face widened.

“It seems our poor cellmate is missing some parts, and it’s scared our young master.”

“Bodyguard An, are you keeping this quiet because you hope that when those white-haired monsters come to pick fruit, they’ll choose me and my Sentinel first?”

As Nozomi laid out An Siwen’s intentions word by word in a light tone, An Siwen’s expression soured slightly, though he still maintained his composure.

“You don’t need to think like that. At the very least, we are from the same planet…”

“Whatever.”

Nozomi shrugged, having no patience for An Siwen’s excuses. He said unhurriedly:

“I’ve already thought of a way out. I can cooperate with you, or I can leave you behind.”

“Even without your help, my Sentinel and I can get out. Conversely, if you don’t cooperate with me, can you still escape?” Nozomi said with a beaming smile, looking as if he were truly considering their best interests. “If Bodyguard An had a way, I doubt he’d have been stuck here for three days watching a cellmate lose his parts, right?”

An Siwen remained steady, but Mu Xiabing stole a look at his bodyguard.

“Besides, there’s no point in hiding that bit of intel. My Sentinel can jump just as high as you, he’ll see for himself in no time.” Nozomi patted Shiroishi Haru’s shoulder, showing off their resident powerhouse. “Not only is he stronger, but he’s also much more handsome than you.”

Nozomi’s first point was serious, the second was pure teasing.

An Siwen: “…”

He really couldn’t argue with that. Shiroishi Haru was handsome, otherwise Mu Xiabing wouldn’t have been so eager to approach him in the first place, leading to this whole mess.

Hearing this, Mu Xiabing subconsciously glanced at Haru. When his eyes met the Sentinel’s features, he remembered the terrifying aura the man had displayed at the shooting range and quickly retreated back into his shell.

An Siwen truly felt like he was dealing with hopeless material. If Mu Xiabing still had the heart for such thoughts in this situation, An Siwen really felt like giving up; some people were just too heavy to carry.

An Siwen: “We’ll see.”

Nozomi laughed. “Fine, we’re in no rush. But once we leave, the opportunity is gone. If you want to get out then, you’ll have to find your own way.”

The exchange of information ended on a sour note. Nozomi waited for his terminal to continue analyzing the data, and the two groups occupied separate corners of the small cell.

Night fell.

A Sentinel could stay wide awake for seven days straight, but a Guide needed to conserve energy. Nozomi leaned against the wall, drifting off, while Shiroishi Haru kept watch. He wasn’t just watching for the white-haired monsters, but also for their two “fellow countrymen” who were clearly not of one mind with them.

The monsters had come by once two hours ago to throw some items inside.

When they appeared, Nozomi had wrapped the rope back around his wrists to maintain appearances. Once they left, he showed off his nimble hands again, irritating Mu Xiabing once more.

Mu Xiabing’s eyes were practically spitting fire, a mixture of jealousy and grievance swirling in his gaze.

Nozomi gave them a polite smile as a greeting before glancing at the items the monsters had tossed in.

It was a piece of deathly white meat from an unknown creature, hard enough to be used as a weapon to bludgeon someone. It was likely meant to be their food.

However, Nozomi was wearing a mask on his survival suit, and the extreme cold of the planet made him wary of removing his helmet. Having no interest in the white meat, he curled back up to save his strength.

Haru acted as a willing human cushion, possessing just the right amount of firmness and solid muscle.

After dozing for a short while, Nozomi was jolted awake by a piercing scream from next door.

He opened his eyes in the darkness. The first thing he saw was Haru’s profile, illuminated by the faint light from the corridor. The Sentinel’s lips were pressed thin, and his green eyes glowed with a faint, feline shimmer.

Haru was staring intently at the scene outside the cell.

Realizing this, Nozomi also turned his gaze toward the corridor.

The first thing he saw was the massive, flickering black shadow of a white-haired monster under the lights. It shifted positions, and the screams became even more ear-piercing.

Nozomi held his breath slightly.

First appeared a humanoid creature being held aloft in the air, followed by two white-haired monsters shuffling past.

Nozomi guessed this was the poor cellmate who was “missing parts.”

The light held by the monster revealed the neighbor’s appearance.

It was wearing a tattered survival suit, and its exposed blue-green skin had turned white from the cold. Even across species, the terror and panic on its face were unmistakable. There was a crudely bandaged wound on its neck.

The cellmate writhed constantly, trying to break free from the monster’s grip. Small, animalistic cries squeezed from its throat, fragmented and incoherent. It sounded like a small mammal having its throat constricted, desperate and utterly shrill.

With one large hand, the monster easily choked the screams back into the creature’s throat.

In the shadows nearby, Nozomi could vaguely make out Mu Xiabing’s silhouette. The young master’s shoulders seemed to be twitching with fear.

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